Take My Hand (17 page)

“Oh, Rachel,” I whined. “I don’t know
what’s wrong with me!”

“Fuck me, you’re not pregnant are you?”
I gave her the eye-roll and shook my head.

“It’s… it’s…”

“
It’s?
”

“It’s Dexter,” I finally admitted for
the first time to both Rachel
and
myself.
“I think I’m in love with him.”

“I knew it! I knew there was something
going on with you two!” she said enthusiastically.

“That’s just it. There’s
nothing
going on. He won’t even talk to
me.”

“So
you’ve
tried talking to
him
?”

“No,” I stated sulkily.

“Then how’d you know he’s not sat at
home thinking the same thing about you?” A sardonic laugh involuntarily erupted
from my throat.

“Well if he was, I’m guessing the blonde
he screwed Saturday night helped him get over it.” I tried my very best to
sound nonchalant but only succeeded in making my tears fall faster.

“I always said he was a good for nothing
wanker!” she blared. She soon changed her tune. “That fucker better not come
near me if he values his balls,” she seethed, her whole body growing rigid with
anger. Impossibly, I cried even more. “I’m sorry, Ho,” she uttered, taking a
calming breath. “Calm down. Calm down,” she mumbled to herself. “K, tell me
everything.
”

I began with the line ‘there’s nothing
to tell’. But soon enough I was telling her ‘nothing’ for the best part of an
hour. By the end of it she pretty much hated Dexter. She didn’t exactly use the
word hate, choosing instead something along the lines of ‘that C U Next Tuesday
is nastier than the shit that comes from the arse of the lice that live on the
mouldiest set of pubes ever to be found’. Oddly, that made me feel guilty
– it made me uncomfortable hearing bad things being said about Dexter.
Like I said, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.

“I’ve got to get going soon, Ho. I hate
leaving you like this,” Rachel said, rubbing my back.

“I’ll be fine,” I lied. “I think I’m
just nervous about tonight,” I lied again. “I’m okay now I promise.” You
guessed it – that was a big fat lie with a cherry on top too.

“You’ll call me if you need me though
right?”

“Sure.” I think I’d officially just
broken the most lies told in under a minute record.

“Well I’ll see you later then,” she said
dismally – feeling sorry for me no doubt. Her taxi honked outside and we
both looked towards the window. “And if I don’t see you before your shift
tonight, then good luck, Ho. You’ll be fantabulous!” Rachel grinned widely at
me and I tried to do the same back, though I’m not sure how convincing it was.
My guess is, not very. Then she wheeled towards the door and blew me a kiss
before leaving for class.

Once I was alone I yawned so loudly I’m
sure I heard someone in Australia ask me to keep it down. My day of tears,
nerves and tantrums was starting to take its toll on me, but I couldn’t go to
sleep. I’d dealt with enough crap today without the added bonus of nightmares
– or daymares whichever way you look at it. So, to keep my mind occupied
and my body too busy to feel tired, I gathered the washing from the bathroom
and set about separating it into colour coordinated piles.

By the time I had to get ready for work
I had washed, dried
and
ironed my
half a basket of dirty clothes, and Rachel’s continuously growing two baskets.
She’s such a slob sometimes. Good job I love her.

**********

I felt kind of stupid in my green apron.
It clashed something awful with my red hair – I looked like a walking
Christmas decoration. I was shadowing a guy called David and I swear he is
Rachel with a penis. He’s loud-mouthed, confident and slightly intimidating. I can
only hope, like Rachel, he’ll soften once I get to know him.

“Believe me the names become second
nature after a week or two,” David assured when he caught me scrutinising the
menu. It was the first friendly thing he’d said since I started my shift three
hours earlier. Not that he’d been mean before or anything, he just hadn’t
really spoken to me… period. I suppose I felt paranoid seeing as he was
chatting freely with everyone else around us. Maybe I was just overthinking it.
It’s not like I’d really made the effort either.

“Let’s hope so,” I replied. “I’m hoping
to get the drinks down by the end of the week and then start on the food,” I
added with a smile. I needed to get back into the swing of being sociable again
before I lost all the skills I’d worked so hard to gain.

“Ah, the food’s a piece of piss. There’s
no fancy names to learn – it is what it is. They want a croissant? They
ask for a croissant. Whereas they want a simple white coffee? They ask for a
Caffé Misto.” David threw a mischievous smile my way and I could tell he
thought the ridiculous names were pointless too.

I may have judged David too early. I was
warming to him already. Plus he was hot – like a younger Henry Cavill
kind of hot. Rachel will most definitely swoon when she meets him. Actually on
that note, I felt a little sorry for him. Once Rachel decides a guy is
‘fuckable’ as she so crudely puts it, the poor sod’s doomed.

9 PM rolled around quicker than expected
and apart from the fact my feet were throbbing like crazy, I was in a pretty
good mood. I made the effort to talk to David more and the longer that went on,
the more I liked him. I also learned the names of three other people working
with us – Leah, Neil and Rachel. I decided to call her Rachel 2 in my
head because I just knew that was going to start confusing the hell out of me.

When I arrived home I kicked off my
shoes before I’d even closed the door behind me. Rachel was lying on the couch
watching…

Dexter.

Honestly you couldn’t make this crap up.
I used to
love
that show too. I
remember referencing to it when I first found out
my
Dexter’s
name. Well
he’s not
my
Dexter – but you
get what I mean. I also remember the look he gave me – one like I’d just
asked him to pop a zit on my bum cheek.

I must’ve stared a little longer than
necessary at the telly because Rachel switched it over to a F.R.I.E.N.D.S rerun
immediately.

“Look I know He Who Shall Not Be Named
is making you all miserable right now, but in regards to the TV show you
really
need to get your head out your
arse and catch up. You will
not
believe
where the relationship with his sister seems to be heading.”

When she saw I was purposely ignoring
that comment she wisely changed the subject.

“Wanna go out? Might cheer you up,” she
suggested. I looked at my watch, even though I already knew what time it was
from checking a minute or so earlier. Why do people do that? Or is it just me?

“Out where? It’s half nine at night,” I
replied. “Plus I’m exhausted,” I added, feeling like I could fall asleep stood
up in the middle of the room.

Sleep.

I didn’t want to sleep.

“Actually sure. Why not. Where you
thinking?”

“I don’t know. A bar maybe? Or a pub if
you fancy something a little quieter?” I took a second to ponder, and I didn’t
even realise my smile had dropped until Rachel started talking again. “It
doesn’t have to be
that
pub,” she
added. Jesus, why did my eyes have to start stinging? “You know what, maybe it
does
have to be that pub,” she declared,
determination swamping her voice.

“Eh?” I could tell by her steadfast
expression she was devising some kind of master plan but I couldn’t think for
the life of me what it was.

“We like that pub. Our friend works at
that pub. I miss that fucking pub! So why should we stay away because The
American is behaving like a total fucktarding jerkarse wanker?”

Because seeing him will probably make me want to run away and cry…

Bloody hell I was being pathetic.

“So, we’re gonna go to
our
pub, you’re gonna put your best
my-life-couldn’t-be-any-better smile on your face, you’re gonna sit there
looking sexy as hell and we’re going to ignore the fuck ugly bastard. Okay?” I
raised a questioning eyebrow at her and she knew exactly what I meant by it.
“K, so he’s hotter than fucking lava but we’re still gonna ignore the prick.”

I smiled as I attempted to count the
number of insults she’d just called
him.
I
had to give up after three because she started drumming her fingers
impatiently.

“Go get changed then,” she ordered,
shooing me away with her hand.

“What about you?” I asked when she made
no attempt to move. “Aren’t you getting ready?”

“I’m always ready, Ho,” she replied with
a wink. “I don’t need to plaster on a bucket full of makeup to know that I look
smokin’ hot.” I giggled and shook my head. I’d always admired Rachel’s
confidence. Then, swallowing the choking lump of nerves in my throat I
playfully saluted her and turned towards the bedrooms.

Dexter

I
was
replenishing the mixers when my heart stopped dead in my chest. My throat
became swollen and every breath I dragged in took a humongous amount of effort.

Emily.

She was here.

And she was fucking beautiful.

I’d not seen or heard from her in over
three weeks. She wanted something from me the last time we were together that I
know I can’t ever give her. Honesty. It was better this way. I was stupid to
think I could ever have a friend – I could ever
deserve
a friend. Never mind where that friendship might have
headed if I hadn’t put an end to it.

That’s just it though. I
didn’t
technically end anything. I just
cut her off. At first I assumed she would forget I even existed after a day or
two. Then after a week had passed I was almost certain she had. She hadn’t
called me either – hadn’t asked to see why I wasn’t attending classes.
She got a glimpse that night of what life with a recovering addict would be
like, and any sane person would realize the rational decision would be to run
the fuck away as far as you could.

So even though I couldn’t stop thinking
about her, or stop the strange pangs ripping the insides of my chest apart, or
stop arguing back and forth with myself about whether I was doing the right
thing… I believed absolutely it was best for Emily. I was confident that she
was getting on with the new life she had planned and our friendship was nothing
but one of those life lessons you prefer not to dwell on.

Until I saw her stroll in through the heavy
double doors tonight with the saddest imitation of a smile etched onto her
flawless face.

“You want to take a break in the back?”
Jared asked as if he understood the fact I was struggling to stay standing
right now.

“I’m good,” I lied through my worthless, good
for nothing, inconsiderate back fucking teeth. I was completely torturing
myself but I
had
to see her. I
had
to analyze every expression on her
face.
I had
to see if she was going
to smile –
genuinely
smile. I
had
to see if she was happy. And I
had
to make sure she’d forgotten all
about me.

Emily’s a difficult cover to judge though.
She’s naturally uncomfortable in social situations so it was hard to tell if
the reason behind her despondent expression was because she’d rather be at home
watching Glee, or if
I’d
put that
look on her face. I wanted to believe it was the former. I mean it’s pretty
egotistical for me to think she was even giving me a second thought right? But
unfortunately, experience has taught me that I have a natural talent for making
people look like that. For letting people down. For hurting them. For
destroying them…

“Seriously, mate, go chill out in the back.
You’re as much use as a chocolate fireguard out here,” Jared said, clapping my
shoulder. I ignored him… I think. I don’t remember talking anyway. All I
remember was staring at the table where Emily and Snickers were sitting.
Snickers put her hand over Emily’s as she leaned in to whisper in her ear.
Emily sighed and nodded. Then she shook her head – not as in saying ‘no’,
but as in shampoo commercial kind of shaking – before plastering the
fakest smile on her face.

“Why don’t you just talk to her?” I ignored
him again, wishing he’d just fuck the hell off outta my face. “This whole thing
makes no fucking sense. You’re miserable.
She’s
miserable…” Whoa…
that
got my
attention.

“Wait,” I interrupted sharply. “Emily’s
miserable? How do
you
know she’s
miserable? Why is she miserable?” I fired at him. I would’ve kept going if he
hadn’t silenced me with a hand in front of my face.

“One – it’s fucking obvious. Look at
her for God’s sake! Two – even if it wasn’t obvious, Rachel told me. And
three – why do you think nobhead? Because for some unfathomable reason
she really likes you and you’ve just cut her off like a selfish twatbag while
you go around chasing the nearest piece of skirt you can get your mitts on!”

“Since when do you talk to Rachel?” I
asked, confused. It felt strange calling her that – she’ll always be
Snickers to me. He opened his mouth to reply but I got in there first. “Hold
up…
skirt?
What are you talking
about?”

“Emily knows about the girl you screwed
last weekend. Turns out she’s in your psychopath class or something.”

“
Sociology
,”
I interjected before shaking my head and realizing that wasn’t the important
part of this conversation.

“I mean I get it - you’ve got needs ‘n’ all
that shit. But doing it so close to home is just rubbing her nose in it. That’s
kinda low, mate.”

Fuck.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah… fuck indeed.”

“No I mean… we didn’t. Fuck I mean. Oh fuck
we just…” I trailed off, wiping my clammy forehead with my hand.

“Fucked?”

“Just stop with all the fucking!” I blared,
causing twenty or so heads to jerk in my direction. Including Emily’s.

“I need to talk to her.”

“No shit,” he replied sounding altogether
amused.

“Actually no I don’t.” Why would I talk to
her? What was the point of explaining? I’d made my decision. I’d let her go and
I wouldn’t allow myself to reel her back.

Not. Ever.

I just wished that decision would stop
hurting so goddamn much.

“Ah, fuck this shit,” I spat, tossing the cloth
over my shoulder onto the bar and stalking off into the back room.

Most nights I couldn’t smell it – I’d
become immune I guess. But tonight, the delicious and enticing scent of alcohol
aroused each and every one of my senses. I could taste it. I could feel the
cool glass in my trembling hand. I could feel the warmth trickling through my
veins….

“I’m such a fucking IDIOT!” I growled,
knowing no one could hear. Then I threw myself face down across the torn
leather couch and pressed a cushion over the back of my head.

I moved here to
escape - evade the pain and the memories. I moved here because I was too
cowardly to face the consequences of my actions on a daily basis. Yet now I’m
here I have never felt weaker.

I wish I’d
never moved to this stupid fucking country.

**********

“Hey, Sleepin’ Beauty, I’m gonna need your
arse out here for the last hour!” Jared yelled directly into my ear. Jackass.

I blinked my eyes open several times,
momentarily disorientated. Ah shit. I was still at work. I planned to take five
minutes to calm myself down but I must’ve fallen asleep. I find it ironic that
people call impromptu sleeps outside bedtime hours ‘power naps’. Because
whenever I’ve had one, I feel anything but powerful. In fact, right now, I felt
like a two ton bag of rat infested shit.

“Be right there,” I groaned, rubbing my
eyes. After a quick stretch and a few light slaps to my cheeks to revive
myself, I made my way out front.

As usual for the last hour you couldn’t see
past the line of incoherent and unsteady bodies. It was so busy my eyes almost
forgot to look for Emily. Like I said…
almost.

“What the fuck is she doing?” I barked,
like it was Jared’s fault Emily was dancing on a freakin’ table. Jared followed
my confused and slightly irritated gaze and then laughed when he saw her.

“Chill out, mate, she’s just having fun.
You know what that is right?” But that’s
not
Emily’s kind of fun and I couldn’t figure out why she was doing it - or why
she was letting some fuck ugly perve with a beard and sweat patches maul her
with his eyes, and more importantly… why she was alone.

“Where’s Rachel?”

“I put her in a taxi about an hour ago
after she decided to decorate the carpet with a month’s worth of sick over
there. I think poor Maggie’s gonna be cleaning that shit up for days.” Maggie
was the pub’s new cleaner and when I looked to the corner where Jared was
pointing, sure enough she was still scrubbing away on her hands and knees.

“So why didn’t Em go with her?” This didn’t
make sense. Firstly, Emily would never leave her best friend alone while she
was sick – even if it was self-inflicted. And second, she hates these
kind of environments. You can normally see her knotting her fingers together
under the table, itching to leave. “Jared!” I pressed when he didn’t answer me
fast enough.

“She wouldn’t go! What was I supposed to
do? Tie her up and force her into the fucking boot? Jesus, Dex, you need to
calm the hell down. What the fuck is wrong with you?” What was wrong with me? I
had no freakin’ idea. But whatever it was had my hand gripping onto the edge of
the walnut bar so tightly my knuckles had turned white. “Look as soon as I’ve
called time, I’ll get her a taxi okay? She’s just drunk, mate. She’ll be fine,”
he added, clapping my shoulder. His tone had needlessly softened to
sympathetic. It pissed me off. I didn’t need sympathy for Christ’s sake.
I
wasn’t the one who wasn’t thinking
straight here. Why the hell was no one else concerned with Emily’s erratic behavior?
They were supposed to be her friends.

I didn’t like this one bit. I didn’t like
the fact she’d been drinking for God knows how many hours and she was
inevitably going to be sick tomorrow with no one to take care of her. I didn’t
like the fact she was so all over the place the entire pub knew what color
panties she was wearing – black lace for the record. I didn’t like the
fact that even though she was dancing and singing and making a complete ass out
of herself, I didn’t catch her smile once.

I might not’ve known what was wrong with
me…
but there was clearly something
wrong with
her.
My stomach twisted
painfully, almost to the point of creating extra scrubbing duties for Maggie
right here behind the bar, as I hoped that ‘something’ wasn’t me.

**********

About ten minutes before time Jared got a
phone call. His face drained of color almost immediately after answering and
then he hung up without saying goodbye.

“My dad’s in the hospital. I’ve gotta go,”
he choked out in a fluster. All I could think about though, was he was supposed
to be making sure Emily got home okay. How selfish is that?

“What about
Emily?” I asked like an insensitive asshole. I instantly wanted to punch myself
in the face.

“
You
deal with it!” he snapped, and
rightly so. I was being a jerk.

“Sure, sure.
Sorry, man. Get your ass outta here,” I replied. He was gone before I’d
finished responding.

I finished up
the last hour by myself. After calling time the last few orders came in and
slowly but surely the place began to empty. It was harder to keep my eyes on
Emily when I was alone. Even Maggie had gone home so I couldn’t rope her into
helping. But I looked her way as often as I could – mainly to check the
sleazeball with the sweat patches hadn’t lured her into going somewhere with
him.

She was
wavering now. She’d stopped dancing and singing about half an hour ago and the
bearded sweat machine fucked off shortly after. She was alone. And… lost. She
just stared into the bottom of her empty glass, circling the rim with her
finger. Something was troubling her and I was just stood there watching like
the self-centered asshat that I am.

“Drink up,
guys! Closing in ten!” I hollered to the dwindling crowd. There was only a
couple of regulars left now… and Emily. She looked up briefly at the sound of
my voice but then turned her attention back to her glass. I was going to have
to take that glass soon. Clearing tables was my next job before I kicked the
last people out.

But I couldn’t
kick Emily out. As much as I knew I should stay away from her there was no way
I could leave her alone in the state she was in. It was almost two o’clock in
the morning. She was inebriated and vulnerable and I’d never forgive myself if
anything happened to her. I was having a hard enough time forgiving
myself
for taking her beautiful smile
away from her.

So when closing
time rolled around she stood up with the last few customers and stumbled
towards the door behind them.

“No you don’t,”
I said calmly, pulling her back by the arm. She stared down at the gentle grip
my fingers had around her forearm before following the trail up my arm and
eventually landing on my face. She looked at me with a confused expression,
blinking repeatedly as if she was trying to decipher if I was some sort of
mirage. “Come sit down till I’ve finished clearing up.” It was an order –
not a question. She either grasped that from my stern expression or she was too
wasted to be assed arguing, because she made her way back to the circular table
she’d been dancing on just a couple of hours before and plopped herself down on
the sofa bench behind it.

After giving
her a quick up and down with my eyes to make sure she didn’t look like she was
about to hurl the entire night’s alcohol out of her system I headed straight
for the cooler behind the bar and plucked out a bottle of spring water.