Take My Hand (14 page)

“Christ,
Dex. I’m so sorry. And that’s not me pitying you, that’s me saying I care about
you and I hope you never have to go through that again.”

“You’re
fucking incredible you know that?” I said, genuine awe dripping from my mouth.
“How are you still here?” She squeezed my hand again and for some inexplicable
reason I felt her touch resonating in my chest.

“There’s
no point in lying and saying I understand, because I don’t. And I hope to God I
never do. But I’m still here because you’re not a monster by nature, Dex. I
might not know you as well as other people, but the man I’ve been getting to
know the last few weeks…
isn’t
the man you’ve just been talking about.
All the bad stuff you described? I don’t need to ask if you’d do those things
while you were sober because I already know the answer. Anyone can get lost on
the wrong path, Dex. It’s whether you have the courage to turn back around
that’s important.”

I eyed
her up curiously for the first time. Was she talking from experience with
something here? It felt like despite what she said, she really did understand
on some level. Not with recreational drugs… she was far too innocent for that.
But something was hiding behind those blue eyes of hers. Wisdom. Regret? Maybe
even guilt. Whatever it was I didn’t like it. The thought of her hurting
through…
anything,
stabbed into my chest like a vinegar-soaked sword.

“You’re
wrong you know…”

“About
what?” she asked, perplexity forcing her eyebrows together.

“About
not knowing me. I don’t quite know how it’s happened, but you can trust me when
I say that
you
know me better than anyone else in the entire fucking
world. You’ve no idea how much I needed this,” I said, motioning between us
with one hand. “Needed a friend. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, doll.”
She stopped chewing her lip just long enough to stretch her mouth into the
widest, most precious smile I’d ever seen.

Turning
my attention back to her tiny aching feet, I could’ve - and definitely would
have if she’d asked – massaged her forever. I gave it my best shot, still
going strong after another thirty-five minutes. But then she pulled away and
the strangest sensation twanged in my chest. It felt almost like a piece of
string had been stapled to my heart and when she moved away from me, I felt it
tighten – pulling me with her.

When I
was with Emily, the loneliness was nothing but an un-mourned memory.

“I’m
sorry. I need the toilet,” she said, sounding as disappointed as I felt.

“You
know where it is. I’ll flip the telly on while you’re gone.” Notice how I said
‘telly’? Yeah, well I’ve been doing that a lot lately without even realizing
it. More so since I started spending time with Emily. It must’ve been happening
frequently because even my Aunt Sarah noticed over the phone.

Speak
of the devil… the second I stood up to grab the remote, my cell started
ringing.

“Hey,
sweet cheeks,” I answered immediately. Aunt Sarah always used to call me sweet
cheeks when I was little. Then when I was ten or so I started calling it her
back. It’s stuck ever since. I was probably in for a lecture. I hadn’t checked
in with her in four days.

“Hey,
Dex,” she greeted solemnly. Suddenly my heart started pounding as I began to
pray this wasn’t the phone call I always knew would come one day. “I have some
bad news.”

Emily

I
needed those few minutes in the bathroom to compose myself. The past
hour with Dexter had been… intense. I had all these bewildering emotions
bouncing around inside every part of my body and I can’t believe I’m about to
admit this but… well let’s just say I’m not so sure my vajayjay is broken
anymore.

I could never do anything about it of course. He said I was his best
friend, and when I started to think about what could happen if we took it
further than friendship, all I could hear was Rachel’s voice banging away
inside my ears.

Guys and girls who’ve dated can’t ever be
friends.

What if she was right? I would never risk
losing what Dexter and I had. Believe me I know this sounds ridiculous
considering the length of time we’ve actually known each other, but I’ve never
felt such a powerful connection with another person before. He makes me feel…
alive I suppose. He ignites these exhilarating sensations deep inside me that
I’ve never experienced before and I don’t want to lose that. I
won’t
lose
that. Especially not by engaging in something as insignificant as the S word
– no matter how much my hoohaa is tingling.

Dexter was facing away from me, talking on the phone when I returned
from the bathroom. When he ended the call he dropped the phone to his side and turned
to face me.

His face was devoid of colour. His fingers were trembling. His eyes were
burning.

“Dex?” I pressed gently, walking tentatively towards him.

“I, um… I’m getting a migraine. I need to lie down. You should go home,”
he said, his voice utterly emotionless.

“What’s happened? Talk to me, Dexter.” I could expect that much couldn’t
I? I wasn’t stepping over the line – not after the morning we’d just
shared.

“I think I’m coming down with something,” he so obviously lied. “Please,
Emily… just go home. I’ll call you tomorrow.” There was my proof that something
was wrong. He called me Emily. He
never
calls me Emily. I don’t ever
want
him to call me Emily again if he says it with such sadness oozing from his
gruff voice.

“Okay,” I grudgingly agreed. “Call me if you need anything,” I tacked
on, hoping that he really would. Hoping that he trusted me enough to.

He forced a weak smile and headed straight for his bedroom without even
seeing me out. It wasn’t until I made my way outside I remembered I didn’t
drive here,
or
bring my purse.

Two jogs in one day? Whoop de bloody whoop.

**********

“You got any Anadin, Ho? I’m dying over here,” Rachel asked, shielding
her eyes with her hand as she lay sprawled out on the couch.

“There’s some in my bag,” I answered, nodding my head towards my black
leather shoulder bag just next to her on the floor. She made a feeble attempt
to reach down to it and then flashed me the pleading puppy eyes. Huffing, I
stood up and got her the aspirin, and then passed her the half empty bottle of
water from the table.

“Anything else before I sit back down?” I asked bad temperedly.

“Fucking hell, Ho, who the hell shit on
your
toast this morning?”

“No one,” I replied. “Sorry. I just want to get this finished,” I lied,
sitting back down on the armchair and picking my Starbucks application form
back up. I’d been working on it for an hour and so far I’d filled in my name
and date of birth.

“You can talk to me you know,” she offered, wincing as she swallowed the
last painkiller. “But you better do it soon. Seeing as I’m dying and
everything.” I couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m just tired I think.” That was the perfect excuse, and if I said it
enough times I might actually start believing it. I wasn’t worried about
Dexter. I wasn’t feeling rejected. And I wasn’t feeling guilty for leaving him
when I knew something was wrong. I also wasn’t used to lying to myself so
badly.

“I’m not surprised. You running? I still can’t believe I missed that,”
she said sounding truly disappointed.

A few minutes later we both jerked our heads towards the sound of the
front door opening. Chris walked in looking completely revived, carrying two
bags of takeaway food.

“Chippy all round, girls!” he enthused, heading straight for the kitchen
with the bags.

“Ugh. That bastard obviously
wants
me to die,” Rachel groaned.

“All the more for us, Emmie!” Chris bellowed from the kitchen.

“Great!” I called back with fake enthusiasm. I’d barely eaten all day
yet weirdly I felt so… full. Moments later he walked in with two plates
overloaded with greasy fish and chips. I felt sick just looking at it. After
passing me my dinner, Chris shoved Rachel’s feet out of the way so he could sit
on the end of the couch.

“I swear if I could move these legs you would’ve totally just got kicked
in the bollocks, dick head.”

“Well you can’t. So deal with it.” It was hard not to laugh at these two
when they got going. They argued relentlessly but I always knew it was playful
on both parts. Nevertheless they’re as stubborn as each other and neither one
is ever willing to back down first.

“Don’t forget I’ve got superhuman strength in my arms to make up for it.
I could burst those balls of yours with just a flick of my fingers, twat bag.”

“Ooo promise?”

“You’re such a prick, Chris.”

“Well you’re such a bitch.”

“Wanker.”

“Fucker.”

“Nob jockey.”

“Muff muncher.”

See what I mean?

“For God’s sake just drop it will you? My tea’s getting cold,” I
snapped. I wasn’t in the mood for one of their contests tonight.

“Who’s pissed on your chips, Emmie?”

“Nobody!” I blared. Chris and Rachel shot each other one of those looks
- the type where they silently asked each other if they knew what was wrong
with me.

“Sorry, Emmie. You’re right… eat up.” I poked and prodded at the plate
of pure stodge with my fork but couldn’t bring myself to eat more than a couple
of mouthfuls. I apologised to Chris, feeling ungrateful, and then took my plate
to the kitchen to scrape my leftovers into the bin.

“I’ve got a really bad headache guys. I’m going to bed,” I half-lied
when I’d finished in the kitchen. “Rach, will you show Chris where the blankets
are kept?”

“Sure, Ho. Hope you feel better.” I simply nodded and took myself
straight off to bed without bothering to shower. I had barely left the room
when I heard Rachel mutter ‘shit brain’ under her breath at Chris.

They were bloody impossible.

**********

I heard a text message come through on my mobile and climbed out of bed
to get it. I searched through my bag, the drawers in my dressing table and even
in the pockets of my jeans which were folded over the wardrobe door. It was
nowhere to be seen. Frustrated, I scratched at my head. That’s when Chris came
in my room wearing a chicken costume.

“Have you seen my phone?” I asked him.

“Bawwwwk, bok bok, bawwwk,” he replied.

“No. I’ve looked there already.”

I heard it ding again and my eyes sprang open. You’ll be as relieved as
I was to know that Chris is still entirely human and I was having one of those
dreams where you’re half-awake and half-asleep. The one’s where you’re
convinced you’re actually up and about getting on with things only to discover
you’ve actually fallen back asleep. One day last week I got showered and
dressed for Uni, grabbed some breakfast and packed my bag, only to have to do
it all again when I really
had
woken up.

I don’t know why I was having such a hard time finding my phone in my
dream because in reality I knew exactly where it was – lying next to my
Kindle on the bedside table. Yawning groggily, I picked it up and swiped across
the screen.

Jared: Don’t spose u have sex with u?

Jared: Stupid spell correct. *Dex* with u?

My eyes automatically wandered to the
time in the top right hand corner of my phone. It was 1AM. He should’ve been in
work with Jared at this time. A fire of panic ignited in my belly as I tapped
the reply bar.

Me: I thought he was working 2nite? X

Jared: Never showed up & I can’t get hold of him. Mick’s blowing his
fucking top. I’ll deck the fucker if he’s out gettin laid while I’m dealin with
his shit

The panic in my belly was now a full-on
raging inferno. This couldn’t be good – not after the way I left him. And
of course, no one else knew how I left him therefore no one would bother
checking on him. I was already pulling my pants on when I typed my reply.

Me: I’ll go check if he’s home x

Jared: Wouldn’t bother. Dex does this kinda shit. Just normally tells me
first. I’m tellin u he’ll be getting his end away that’s all.

No. That wasn’t what it was. I know what
kind of guy Dexter is. I know he ‘has company’ often, but the empty eyes I
looked into before I left his flat this morning, weren’t the kind of eyes that
suggested all he needed was a good old seeing to.

Maybe foolishly, I had to find out
either way. If he
was
‘entertaining’ someone then I’d just have to deal with it. At least I’d
know he was okay.

The lights to Dexter’s flat were on when
I pulled up outside his building. I’d tried texting him three times and calling
him twice on the way here and he hadn’t replied to any of them. So maybe the
lights meant nothing. Perhaps he’d just left them on before he went out. Unless
he was lying unconscious at the bottom of the stairs…

On that note I jumped from the car and
sprinted over to the entrance of his building. My hand went to hover over the
call button but then I noticed the door was slightly ajar. I pulled in a deep
breath and pushed it open slowly.

The thumping music, which I could hear
outside but assumed was coming from another flat, grew louder and louder the
further up the stairs I climbed. I paused on the top stair and seriously
considered turning back - afraid of the scene I may have been about to walk
into. I even went as far as going down a step, but then realised I wouldn’t be
able to sleep until I’d seen him… whatever or
whoever
he was doing.

Taking another preparing breath I threw
open the door, making the handle crash into the wall behind it. Then I squeezed
my eyes shut and didn’t know if I’d ever be able to open them again. The image
of Dexter slumped back on his couch with his emotionless eyes glossed over and
his navy-blue shirt ripped open, while three half-naked girls danced in front of
him would be burned into my retinas for eternity.

Certain the chippy I nibbled at a few
hours ago was about to make a dramatic reappearance, I turned to leave. My foot
hadn’t even crossed the threshold when I was pulled back into the room by my
arm.

“Here she is, g-g-girls! Th-the famous
Emily! The reason I c-can’t seem to get it up for a single fucking one of you
whores tonight!” Dexter slurred/sang/shouted.

“Dexter, what are you doing?” I snapped
as quietly as I could, refusing to look at the dancing girls who seemed quite
amused with his little performance.

“Whaddit look like, doll? I’m having
myself a paaartaaay!” he slurred/sang again, holding an almost empty bottle of
lager up in the air. This was bad.
Really
bad. I knew this was a place Dexter wouldn’t have visited if he wasn’t
hurting deeply.

“Let go of my arm,” I demanded, his grip
beginning to smart. I don’t think he heard me over the blaring music because he
didn’t budge an inch. “Please, Dexter you’re hurting me!” I shrieked, tugging
myself away and finally succeeding.

“Fuck me, you hear that, girls?
I’m
hurting
her
!” Dexter was
laughing but there was no happiness in his eyes. This whole situation was way
out of my league and I knew the sensible approach would be to turn and leave.
Maybe call Jared or Chris. So why was I still standing by him?

“Maybe you should leave?” I suggested to
the girls, disgust oozing from my voice.

“Sh-she right. You’s no use here anyway.
My dick gotten harder lookin’ at my g-grandma.”

“Gladly,” one of them sneered. I don’t
know which one because I was still refusing to look at them. “He’s a fuckin’
weirdo,” she added, sounding disgusted. She had a cheek in my opinion. Dexter
was undoubtedly behaving like a complete moron but she was hardly Mrs
Respectable – dancing half-naked with two other girls in a strangers’
house.

I heard some shuffling and zippers being
pulled before the sound of high heels came stomping past me.