Heartbreak's A Bitch!

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Heartbreak's A Bitch! Page 8

by S. M Phillips


  “Mel,” I say disapprovingly. I know the pair of them love to bicker, but she’s going way too below the belt for my liking today.

  “Oh, she knows that I love her really.” She smiles with a dismissive wave of her hand and rolls her eyes at Rachel again. “I’m just trying to get my head around this whole situation.”

  “Yep, and I love you too. So much so, one of these days I might just lace your coffee with a teeny, tiny bit of arsenic.”

  “Mwah.” Mel shoots her a kiss and I really want to smash their bloody stupid heads together.

  “Pack it in girls. You’re really not helping matters.” I thought they were supposed to be here to support me, not to frigging point-score against one another.

  “No? Maybe he will.” I look at Rachel as her eyes grow wide and a humongous grin takes over her whole face. Oh, I know that look. I’ve witnessed it plenty of times before. It’s a look that says ‘oh boy are you in for it now.’

  I don’t even need to look behind me to know exactly who’s stood a few feet behind me. Bloody hell, I can sense him and I can even smell him too. Every single hair on my body is raised and on edge, tingling with need and anticipation of what might happen.

  And then my stomach drops. I look like shit. Absolute cow-turd. All I wanted to do this morning was vacate my personal pity party, get some fresh air and some adult, well, let’s just say conversation for argument’s sake, nobody likes to get all political, do they? So, up I got and off I popped to Rachel’s, only to find Mel already waiting for me with a concerned expression on her face, yet laden with a bunch of holiday memorabilia.

  For fuck sake. Why is this happening to me now? I haven’t even brushed my hair and I don’t have a single ounce of make-up on my pale and delicate looking skin. At just the thought of how dreadful I must look, my hands automatically reach out for the scraggily ends of my shaggy bob and I silently pray to everything that’s holy that my waves pass off as sexy and not screaming lazy, trampy bitch, which in all honesty is what I really am.

  “Holy mother of…”

  “Melody,” Rachel says sternly, abruptly stopping anything unladylike escaping her mouth.

  “Who. Is. That?” Mel asks and her mouth is hanging open and she doesn’t even have the decency to hide it, either. She’s got zero shame as she practically drools over my very own Thor.

  “Ladies.” He croons, his voice deliciously deep and sending a multitude of shivers running through my body as he walks straight towards our table. I catch a glimpse of him and my God, he’s just perfection. I’ve never known anything like it.

  “But, what about Matt?” my nasty little devil decides to pipe up and remind me of my dirty and slutty ways.

  “What about him?” I silently argue back.

  “You weren’t thinking too much about Noah while you were shagging the shit out of Matt, were you?”

  “I’m single you little shit. I can do who and what the hell I want, when I want.”

  “So, we can see. I guess It looks like someone’s really making up for lost time, aren’t they?” He continues, trying to goad me further.

  “Oh, piss off.” I argue back again, trying to defend my silly, reckless actions. I can’t believe that I’m arguing with myself over a man and a bloody penis of all things. When the hell did my life become so complicated?

  “Hi.” Mel swoons, a flirtatious tone very evident, bringing me right back to the here and now. I watch, slightly amused as he smiles politely at her, and then almost instantly his eyes fix themselves firmly back on mine and my poor heart does a little flutter.

  “Emily.” He nods and I bite down on my bottom lip, absolutely certain that my cheeks are now a lovely deep shade of crimson. As much as I’d love to reply back to him, the words just won’t come and all I can muster is a goofy half smile.

  Way to go, Parker.

  As Noah makes his way towards the counter, Melody elbows me sharply in the side. “Ow. What the bloody hell was that for?” I scowl, gripping my side to try and stop the pain.

  “Like you really need to ask? What was that?”

  “What?” I’m trying my best to play dumb, but I already know that she’s not going to have any of it. She wants answers. She’s like a flaming vulture when she wants something, this one. There’s just no stopping her.

  “That. You. Him? I’ve only been away for a week and so far you’ve been suspended and now you’ve got some seriously hot as fuck business guy leering all over you.”

  “Oh, give over. You make it sound so much more dramatic than it actually is. Also, he wasn’t leering, he was just being polite.”

  “Polite my arse. Anyway, I thought you were supposed to be crap at all this dating malarkey?”

  “I am.” I shout out in disbelief, while holding my hands up to show my innocence. “You should have seen the weirdo who I ended up with last week. Absolute fruit loop, he was.” I’ll never, ever forget how he’s scared me for life. To be fair, since him I haven’t looked at my own nipples the same. “Plus, to make things even more interesting, bloody Rachel’s only gone and set me up on Tinder, hasn’t she? Honestly, Mel, I can’t even. I mean, I’m sure most of them have to be fake.”

  Some people on there really are destined to be single for all eternity, yet others have either nabbed some innocent soul’s picture from google or they’re clearly cheating on their poor, innocent wives, or girlfriends because looking like that, there’s no frigging way that they can be single.

  “Oh, please tell me you haven’t. Bloody hell, Emily. I go away for a week…” She sighs disapprovingly at me.

  “I’m only curious, plus it’s a laugh that I could really do with right now.” I watch her closely, but she still eyes me disapprovingly.” Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m gonna meet someone on there and we’re going to run off into the sunset and live happily ever after, is it? You’ve got to think logical here, Mel.”

  “Well, I guess it’s worked for some people. I just don’t like it, personally it’s not for me. You could end up with a right weirdo, or psycho. But, then again, if you could meet someone like that,” she swoops her head over towards Noah’s direction again and I smile knowing exactly where her mind has wandered off too, “well, in that case, I’d be all for it.”

  I can’t help but laugh at her, she’s so bloody old fashioned at times. “Well, I didn’t stumble across him on Tinder. In actual fact, Rachel set me up with him on a blind date.”

  And with that, for what feels like the hundredth time this morning, Melody’s jaw hits the floor and I feel a little smug on the inside. I just love what this girl does to my ego.

  I say my goodbyes to Rachel and Mel reluctantly, but I’ve got my routine smear appointment due in an hour and if I don’t leave now, then I never will and being the good girl that I am, it’s not something that I really want to miss and put to chance.

  “I’ll call you later,” Rachel says as she pulls me into a tight embrace and I breathe in the familiar scent of DKNY. I don’t know if it’s Rachel, or the familiar scent, but it instantly puts me at ease and makes me feel right at home. My very own human comfort blanket.

  “Me too.” Mel agrees. “But first I’m going to head to the office to see what I can find out. That bitch better hope she doesn’t bump into me, especially today of all days. She’s got a lot to answer for, that much I am sure of.”

  “Is that really a wise move? You’ve been absent all morning.”

  “Jetlag. What can they do, really?” She shrugs. Nothing ever phases that woman at all. Sometimes I wish I could be more like her.

  “Oh, Emily before you go, Noah asked me to give you this.” I look around for him briefly and he’s nowhere to be seen. How did I not see him leave? Great, I bet he’s no longer interested in me now because I resemble a wild, feral drowned animal. Way to go, Parker, you’re really doing a fantastic job today, aren’t you?

  “Well, you’ve obviously left some kind of impression on him.” Rachel teases.

  Obviously. Not.


  I look down as Rachel places a rectangular box into my hand. I haven’t got a clue what it could be, but the deep charcoal wrapping paper feels very rich and thick under my touch.

  “Looks like you’ve got a thing for packages this week, girl.” I inwardly groan as I’m suddenly reminded once again of the un-opened package on my kitchen table, courtesy of Tyler. Tyler the twat.

  “Rach…” I warn.

  “Don’t worry about it now.” She says empathetically and with that I squeeze her a little bit tighter. Mel doesn’t need to know about it, not yet anyway. I’d never get out of here if that happens. Mel would have me marching back to my house just to grab it so that she can see what’s inside. Actually, I’d probably go as far to say that she’d open it herself; with or without my permission.

  “Right, girls,” I say again as I look at the time on my beautiful apple watch. “I’m really going to have to love you and leave you.” I give both of my friends one last kiss and dart out of the door, with Noah’s gift firmly clenched in my hands.

  “Miss Parker, please.”

  My vajayjay squeezes in protest. Who needs to do pelvic floor excercises when this is the reaction you get at the thought of a horrific plastic scope being shoved up you. There isn’t any amount of lube that will ever make it comfortable. A violation, that’s what it is.

  I know that I need to have it done, that it’s only five minutes of discomfort and being degraded is completely worth it when you look at the bigger picture, but by heck, it doesn’t make it any easier.

  You know you’ve hit a bloody bad patch when you shave especially for the doctor’s office. Ugh, I’m really not looking forward to this at all. Yes, I know that they see foofs all the time, but not mine. Actually, putting aside my recent behaviour, I’m usually quite selective when comes to who sees my lady garden.

  “Oh, you weren’t that selective with Matt.”

  Brilliant, once again the devil has decided to rear his ugly frigging horns.

  I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do about this whole Matt situation. Bloody hell, it shouldn’t even be a situation. But, it is and there’s not much that I can do about it. Should I call him? What would I even say? “Oh, hey. Thanks for a rocking time, how about we just get on with life and pretend like it never happened?”

  I don’t want it to be awkward between us the next time that I see him. Saying that he’s already acting like nothing’s happened anyway as I’ve not heard from him at all over the weekend. Usually, he’d send something, or give the odd poke. Yes, Matt still pokes people. Why I’ll never know, but it’s true. I’m sure he must be the only person that still uses that feature on Facebook.

  I guess the bottom line is that I mustn’t be up there with his high standards of a shag. I’d love to say the same about him, but it was pretty enjoyable, to be fair. Whether that’s because of how long I’ve gone without sex or not, I’ll never know. But it was pretty much rather enjoyable all the same.

  No more than fifteen minutes later, I’m in, scraped and back out again, all my dignity well and truly out of the window. Well, what I had left of it anyway, which was hardly any after this past weekend’s reckless antics.

  I nod my head to Sandra, my Mum’s best friend and head medical secretary of our Doctor’s practice as I leave. At least I can rest easy with the knowledge that within the next ten minutes or so Sandra will be straight on the blower to my Mum telling her just how much of a good girl I’ve been. Patient confidentiality doesn’t really stretch all that far between those two, especially when it comes to things like routine smears. In all honesty, I don’t think it stretches all that far between the two of them anyway. Thank God, I’ve never had any embarrassing sexual complaints. Jesus Christ, if I did then there’s no way that I’d ever hear the end of it. Plus, I like to live my life just happily plodding along, safe in the knowledge that my Mamma still believes me to be one hundred percent virginal and completely untarnished.

  To be fair, it was getting pretty close where I could have applied to be one of those rogue Nun’s if I’d have gone without the good stuff any longer. Vinnie’s a trooper and all, but there’s just something about a hot solid piece of man-meat that really gets the blood pumping.

  Just like that, Matt creeps into my mind again. No matter what I do, I just can’t seem to shift him out of my head for long. Maybe me and alcohol shouldn’t be friends. It’s such a bad influence on me, always egging me on to make the wrong choices in life. Making me think that it’s an amazing idea at the time, only for me to realise the next day that none of it was really the best option.

  Seriously, what am I going to do about this whole Matt situation? I knew the whole thing was a bloody bad idea. Every single fiber of my being was telling me that something like this would happen. I guess it’s fair to say that I’ve been living a lie for the past twenty-nine years. Ladies be warned, it’s not just men that think and act with their Genitalia. Us girls and our vajayjay’s are pretty rebellious too.

  I know that it’s not big and it’s definitely not clever, I mean come on, just look where my carefree and reckless behaviour has gotten me so far, and I’ve not even been doing it all that long. I’ll tell you where, absolutely nowhere, except feeling like a used piece of meat and that’s not a nice feeling at all.

  My phone buzzes to life in the back pocket of my jeans causing me to jump right out of my thoughts and straight into the back of a rather large and stocky guy. “Sorry.” I mouth quietly while my head faces down towards my flats.

  “Hey, I know you?” He questions with certainty, yet his voice doesn’t sound all that familiar.

  I look up and take in the man stood before me and I can honestly say, hand on heart that I haven’t got the foggiest idea as to who he is. “Nope, I’m sorry. I don’t think you do.” I reply as politely as possible while trying to wrack my brains. Surely, I’d remember the guy if I knew him?

  “It’s Emily, right?”

  “Uh-huh.” I reluctantly nod my head and feel like I’m auditioning for the part of Winston the dog in those bloody car insurance adverts. I’d probably pass as a good nodding dog with the way I feel right now. I’m totally confused and this stranger is watching me expectantly, patiently waiting for a big fat light to flash behind my eyes as the recognition kicks in. Well, I’m afraid he’s going to be stood here for a ridiculously long time if that’s the case.

  “Are you trying to be funny? It’s me, Scott?” He continues and I can’t help but detect a teeny, tiny hint of desperation in his voice. “Scott-Scott…”

  Pursing my lips together tightly, I try my best to think long and hard as to whether our paths have ever crossed before, but again I’m coming up blank. To tell you the truth, I’m pretty weirded out that he knows my name. That right there should be sounding all kinds of alarm bells. “Well, Scott-Scott, I’m really sorry to say that I don’t have a clue who you are,” I say apologetically and a tiny part of me feels a little bit gutted for the guy. He looks just like I felt when I found out that Santa wasn’t real and it utterly destroyed me to know that it was really my Mum throwing back all the mince pies. I don’t know how she hid all those bloody calories, either. Clearly, I didn’t get those happy genes or her magical super powers.

  All too quickly his whole posture changes before me. Gone is his warm happy smile, instead, it’s replaced by a sharp and ferocious scowl and his body is all hard and ridged and I feel scared, which isn’t something that I have ever felt outside in broad daylight since I was a little girl.

  I really want to put one foot in front of the other, to get away from this weirdo, but then at the same time I can’t help but feel rude. God knows why, I was as happy as happy can be walking down Oxford street, ready to grab a bite to eat from Marks’ before heading back home to enjoy the rest of my day being a jobless and lonely old bum. But then again, I guess nothing is ever plain sailing, though, is it?

  Now I’ve got this guy invading my dancing space and I don’t like it one bit. For the
love of God, he doesn’t seem to take the hint. Johnny Castle would not approve of this Scott-Scott’s attitude, let me tell you. I bet he’d be just the type to stick baby in the corner too.

  See, this is how I know that I don’t know this guy. There’s no way on earth that I would ever be able to associate with people like that. My Mamma definitely didn’t raise no fool, or whatever it is that they say.

  All too suddenly, his left hand moves at super, fast speed and reaches inside his jacket pocket at the right hand side. “Oh shit.” I’ve watched movies and everyone knows that there’s only one thing that’s hidden inside there, like ever. Death is coming for me and there’s nothing that I can do about it. I’m well and truly screwed.

  Has someone hired a hit-man out on me? It’d make bloody sense, wouldn’t it? Random guy approaches an innocent young girl on the street and just so happens to know everything that there is to know about her. Said random guy then tries to leer innocent, young girl in and then… Boom. Gone, just like that. Never to be seen or heard from again.

  Maybe if I cried out for help, made a couple of pleaful screams here and there, cause some kind of scene, maybe it would scare him just enough to back off. Hmm, or maybe that’s what he’d expect me to do. I guess he must be some kind of professional, after all.

  Realising that my fate now rests in Scott-Scott’s hands, I take in a deep, long and what’s most likely going to be my final breath and silently pray that it’s all done as quickly and as pain-free as possible. No one really likes an overly dramatic victim at the best of times, and I don’t think my fellow passers-by would feel any differently.

  “Look…” He snaps at me, yet my eyes remain firmly fixed on my Primarni specials. Now, they might be the cheapest pair of shoes that I’ve ever purchased but by heck, they’re definitely the most comfiest. To be fair, I half expected them to fall apart a long time ago, but no; these little beauties are holding on nice and strong, the set of troopers that they are.

 

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