Lean On Me (Take My Hand) (14 page)

And
‘knowing’ was a good idea…
why?

“Fuck
I need a smoke. Wait – I can’t sm… well maybe I can. But what if…”
ARGGGGGGH!

“Let’s
just find out first,” Holly said in a soothing voice. “Besides, you shouldn’t
smoke anyway. It’s bad for your complexion.”

Crinkling
the top of the bag closed between my fingers, I nodded reluctantly.

“Okay.”

**********

“Have
you done it yet?”

“No.”

So,
there I was, sitting on the toilet with my pants down and my knees apart,
staring at a white stick in my hand that I couldn’t summon the courage to piss
on.

“Do
you need me to get you some water? Might help you need to go,” Holly called
through the door.

“I
do
need to go. I’m holding it in.”

“
Why?
”

“Because
I don’t want to do it!” I snapped.

“Right,
I’m giving you
one
minute to pee on
that stick before I barge in there and tickle your belly till it comes out
against your will.”

It’s
times like these I can’t help thinking how awesome it would be to have working
legs – so I could
kick
people.
Hard.

“Thirty
seconds gone. Don’t think I won’t do it!”

“FINE!
I’ll do it now!”

Here goes nothing…

Or a very big fucking something…

I
took the little blue cap off the white stick as stated in the instructions that
I read through a million and four times. You know, they even have a little
diagram showing you ‘where to aim it’ in case you’re a moron who doesn’t know
where your wee comes from. And then I did it. Not much to describe. Shove hand
between legs, start weeing, hope you hit the absorbent tip and then whip it out
after five seconds.

Again,
as per the leaflet stuffed inside the box, I put the cap back on, laid it flat
on the edge of the sink and noted the time on my watch. I had three minutes to
kill, so I did the essentials – wiped my drips (TMI? Sorry), hitched
myself up on the rail by the toilet so I could pull my pants up, lifted myself
back in my chair and washed my hands – thoroughly in case I ‘missed’
while I was aiming.

Looking
at my watch again, I noticed only a minute had passed. Still, impatient to get
it over with I picked the stick back up and planned to stare at it until I had
my answer. Maybe if I gave it the evil eye, the second line would be too scared
to show up…

I’d
read through that instruction leaflet over and over until my eyes wanted to
bleed. Three minutes it said.
Three.
So
why the fuck when I picked it up after ninety seconds was my result ready and
waiting to smack me in the face? I wasn’t ready for Christ’s sake! Three
minutes. It said I had three fucking minutes to prepare myself!

“Can
I come in?” I can’t even remember if I answered Holly, but nevertheless she
came in anyway. “Well?” she asked nervously, keeping her distance as if I were
a live grenade about to detonate. I looked up at her, took a deep breath and
handed her the stick – not even considering the fact I’d just pissed on
it.

“Let’s
just say life is about to get a hell of a lot more interesting.”

Jared

I
ran into Ben earlier today. As
suspected, now he was sober he was utterly ashamed of the things he’d said about
Rachel. We go back a long way, so I accepted his apology. Turns out I didn’t
break his nose, just made it swell to three times the size of his face
apparently. I didn’t say it, but I’m pretty sure he knows if he ever spouts
degrading shit like that again I will make damn sure I do it right next time.

Gotta
feel sorry for the guy. In a few months time the poor sod will have
four
kids. Four! Jesus, I don’t think
I’d be able to handle just one of the little buggers. I still don’t know how
Jess is going to cope. I’ve told her I will be there for her in any way I can
so I suppose that’ll be good practice in case Rachel ever decides she wants
one. Christ, I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for
that
conversation.

I
was really nervous this morning. When I woke up I felt really lightheaded and
in the past that has been a warning that one of my ‘episodes’ were coming on. I
don’t like the words fit, or seizure… sounds so damn dramatic. Plus, I’m not
even sure if that’s what they’re called. I ended up in hospital after having
one eight years ago and I never went back for my follow-up appointment. I’ve
done some research on Google though and apparently some people grow out of
them. I’m going to be one of those people. I have to be. I won’t hand my life
over to a goddamn illness. I refuse to let it control what I can and can’t do
and I’ll
never
allow it to make me a
weak target again.

Thankfully
by the time noon rolled around I felt fine. Good job, because I was taking
Rachel out for our first ‘real’ date to celebrate her twentieth birthday. I
figured we started out as drinking buddies, and kind of stopped there. So I’m
taking her to the cinema. That’s a ‘date thing’ to do right?

So,
that’s where I was heading. Rachel had called to say she was home from work and
I immediately picked up my keys, and got in my car. I stopped at Blooming
Lovely – the florist that sends my daily order of petals to Rachel
– to pick up the bouquet I’d ordered a few days ago. I came out with a
bunch so big it took up the whole passenger seat. I had it filled with about
ten different varieties of flowers (don’t ask me the names – I can do
roses and lilies and not much else), all in pinks, reds and purples because
they remind me of the colours etched into Rachel’s skin.

I
approached Rachel’s door a little nervously. She seemed edgy on the phone which
usually meant I’d done something to piss her off. Still, I was sure a good
fucking was all she needed. I’m pretty certain I can shag my way out of
anything with her.

“Happy
birthdaaaaaaaay!” I called into the empty living room after letting myself in.

“Be
out in one minute!” I heard Rachel call back.

“Hey!
I bumped into Ben earlier. He apologised for being such a fucking idiot.”

“
Yeah?
”

“Yeah.
I couldn’t
not
accept it when I saw
the state of him. Jesus, I’m telling you - having kids ruins fucking lives. I
don’t think Jess knows what the hell she’s letting herself in for.” I shook my
head at myself just
imagining
the
life my baby sister had coming to her. Fuck that for a month of Sunday’s.

So,
when Rachel said ‘one’ minute, she was clearly talking in female minutes,
because
fifteen
minutes later she
emerged from the bathroom.

“Delivery
for the birthday girl,” I said, walking towards her with my face covered by the
flowers. Alright fuck it, I admit it – I
sang
. “What’s wrong?” I immediately added when I lowered the
flowers and saw her swollen and red eyes.

“They’re
beautiful,” she whimpered, her bottom lip wobbling as she nodded towards the
flowers in my hand. I discarded them on the chair behind me and kneeled down in
front of her, cupping the side of her face in my hand and brushing a lone tear
away with my thumb.

“Rach?”
I pressed cautiously.

“I’m…
fine,” she squeaked. “Just miss Emily that’s all.”

“Oh,
Rach…” I consoled, pulling her in for a hug. I
knew
it. I knew it had been bothering her. She’s not been herself
for weeks but of course she’s too damn stubborn to admit it. “You know she’s
probably feeling exactly the same,” I talked into her hair as she nuzzled my
shoulder. “Just call her.”

“I’ve
tried.
I’ve text her so many times
and I barely get any replies back. I know she’s been through shit and stuff,
but we’re like sisters. At least I
thought
we were.”

“You
are
like sisters,” I said firmly,
pulling back so I could look her in the eye.

“Then
why doesn’t she want me to know she’s back in England? I just feel… I don’t
know,
hurt
I guess. And I know she’s
probably hurting too which just makes
me
hurt
even more but… I’m mad with her. I can’t help it. You know she’s not even
remembered my birthday?”

“I’m
sorry, Rach.” What else could I say? I just don’t get it. Em and Rachel were
inseparable. What the fuck went on over in the States? “You want to stay home
tonight? We could just pop a DVD in and cuddle or something.”

“No,”
she disagreed. “It might be just what I need to drag me out of this miserable
mood,” she added with a fake smile. I silently made it my mission to turn it
into a real one before the night was out. “So, cinema?”

“Sure.
The Hunger Games is still out if you fancy that?”

“Definitely.
I’ve been meaning to read the books forever. Right, let me get some pint
glasses for those flowers, and we’ll get going.”

“
Pint glasses
?”

“Do
I look like the kind of girl who has vases, Jaz?
Seriously?
”

“Valid
point,” I agreed, chuckling. Then, I followed her into the kitchen with the
flowers and stood by while she arranged six pint glasses in a row on the
counter. I tried to help her put the flowers in but she batted my hand away
with a frustrated huff. How the fuck was I supposed to know you’re meant to
snip off the end of the stem to keep them alive longer? And not just any old
snip – a
diagonal
snip.

“There,”
Rachel said proudly, wheeling herself back a little to get a good view of her
handiwork. “They really are beautiful. I love them. Thank you.” She looked up
at me with a warm smile but we still weren’t quite there with the genuine.

“Not
as beautiful as you,” I said, bending down to kiss the tip of her nose. I know,
I know… pussy-whipped through and through. But hell, I give Rachel and her
perfect pussy permission to whip me whenever they bloody well want. “Ready?”

“I’ll
just grab my bag.”

“I
might just let you
grab
something
else later if you’re a good girl,” I teased seductively in her ear. I got a
small smile in return. No sexy groan, no horny comment, no kiss or squirming in
her chair – a
smile,
and a
small one at that. I could see in that moment I was going to have to work
incredibly hard to cheer her up tonight. Good job I’m a guy who loves a
challenge – which is how I got her in the first place.

**********

Well,
I got my genuine smile - even won a
squeal and a giggle too. After booking our tickets at the cinema and loading up
Rachel’s lap with popcorn, drinks and two hotdogs that require a loan to
afford, we were directed to our seats. That’s when I got my smile…

“Well
this is no good,” I complained to Rachel. “I can’t feel you up sat all the way
down here.”

“Well,
if you choose to date a cripple you’ve gotta pay the consequences,” she teased.
The spotty sixteen year old who brought us in here sat us at the front where
there is a cut-out in the seating arrangement for wheelchairs. “But it’s a good
job I can’t feel my legs because I don’t think I could cope with that as well
as the pain in my neck I’m gonna get from straining to see the damn screen.”

“Right,”
I said, jumping up from my seat. “Put your arms around my neck.”

“What
for?” she asked, confused.

“We’re
going to the back row to make out,” I explained with a suggestive wink.

“Jared,
I’m not supposed to sit up-” Tucking one arm behind her back and one under her
knees, I had her scooped in my arms before she could finish protesting.
“Jared!” she squealed when I began running up the steps to the back of the theatre.
“You’re going to get us thrown out!” she warned, the words getting lost in her
adorable laughter. A few people stopped chatting and turned their gazes to us,
making Rachel chuckle harder and bury her embarrassed face into my shoulder.

“Nah.
We’d just have to play the disabled card. No one’s going to kick out a girl in
a wheelchair. It breaks too many PC laws.” Shaking her head and giggling at me,
she craned her neck and kissed my cheek. The heat from her soft lips alone was
enough to make my cock stir and at that point I wasn’t sure if I would be able
to stop at the ‘making out’ checkpoint.

When
I reached the top of the steps I lowered Rachel into a chair on the back row
before settling in next to her.

“Um…
forgot something?” she asked, nodding down the centre aisle. Shit. The food and
drinks were still on the seats near the screen. In that moment the theatre
lights started dimming so I hopped up quickly and went to fetch our stuff. When
I returned seconds later, Rachel took her hotdog and took an almost violent
bite.

“I
hope you’re going to be a little gentler with
my
hotdog later on,” I whispered in her ear. Yeah, seems I really
am
that immature.

“Wow,
why didn’t you tell me your twelfth birthday was coming up?” she joked, shaking
her head at me.

The
trailers were almost over when I noticed, after that first bite, Rachel had
barely nibbled around the edges of the rest of her hotdog. Mine was long gone,
along with a decent chunk of the popcorn.

“You
okay?” I asked, eyeing up the bun in her hand.

“I
feel a little sick. Think it’s off or something,” she muttered, wrinkling her
nose.

“Well
gee thanks. Could’ve warned me
before
you
saw me devour mine. I swear if I wake up rolling in my own diarrhoea in the
morning,
you’re
cleaning it up.” With
that comment, Rachel started gagging. I thought she was taking the piss at
first until she started panicking.

“Jared,
please. Toilet. Need a… toilet,” she choked out, clamping her hand over her
mouth. I was running down the steps with her in a millisecond, then I got her
in her chair and wheeled her the hell out of there as fast as I could.

The
ladies toilets were luckily next door to our screen and I leaned over and
pushed the door open with one hand while pushing Rachel forward with the other.
I’m sure if she wasn’t holding on to a mouthful of vomit she would’ve objected
to me coming in with her – much like the snooty cow with the Louis
Vuitton handbag did.

“Does
it look like I’ve got time to give a shit?” I snapped when the whiney old bitch
angrily informed me that I shouldn’t be in there. Moving forward and ignoring
her gasp, I practically hurled Rachel into a cubicle and grabbed hold of her
hair while she bent over and spewed up six months worth of food.

“Let’s
get you home,” I said, soothing her back with my hand when there was nothing
left to come out.

“I’m
sorry,” she whispered, wiping the corners of her mouth on a paper towel. “I
ruined our date.”

“Fuck
the date, Rach. I’m more concerned that you’re having a shit birthday.”

“My
birthday isn’t shit. I’m with you. Now take me home and cuddle me.”

“Jesus,
you really are ill,” I ribbed. “You’re
never
soppy.”

“I
can tell you to go fuck yourself if you’d prefer?”

“Ah,
there she is. My saffy.” I rubbed the top of her hair like she was a small
child. “Come on,” I added, stepping around her and taking hold of her handles.
“Bed time.”

**********

“Do
you think we can really do this, Jaz?” Rachel murmured against my chest. It was
almost morning. She was tucked under my arm and had been for hours.

“Do
what?” I answered groggily. When I woke up a few hours before, I had the
dreaded lightheaded feeling I thought had fucked off yesterday. I hadn’t moved
a muscle since, in the hope if I kept still and calm, it would go away without
ruining my day.

“This.
Us. For… the
long
term…” Supporting
her in the crook of my arm, I rolled onto my side to face her. Then I took her
hand in mine and clamped it to my chest.

“I
know
we can. Rachel, I love you. I
feel like I’ve loved you forever and the feeling that I get in here when we’re
together,” I squeezed the hand that was lying over my heart, “it’s more
powerful than anything I’ve ever felt before. It won’t fade. It won’t leave.
It’s too strong, saffy. So yeah, I’m in this for the long haul. Question is,
are
you
?”