Lean On Me (Take My Hand) (8 page)

Take
the guy standing in front of me in the queue. He reached into the back of his
pants, adjusted his underwear and then started scratching his arse. Now you’ve
gotta remember, when you’re in a permanent sitting down position, that means
your eyes are butt level with everyone else. As usual, I just looked away and
let him and his itch enjoy their special moment together.

Until
I heard the nauseating sound of his fingernails grazing his arse hair…

“Want
me to help you out with that seeing as I’m down here?”

I’ve
never seen anything move so fast as when he whipped his hand from his pants.
Think Edward Cullen on amphetamines. However,
unlike
my favourite vampire, there was nothing pale about this man.
I swear you could’ve fried eggs on his cheeks when he turned around and saw me.

Mission
accomplished.

Either
from impatience or embarrassment, the man with the itchy arse weaved his way
out of the queue and left, making room for me to get past in the process.

My
next class covered the outline for an oil-painting project we’ve got coming up.
This was the first time I’d ever yawned my way through a class. I was bored
shitless and had zero interest in anything to do with the degree I so
desperately wanted to gain. Instead, all my mind seemed to want to think about
was Jared. The way his green eyes sparkle in the daylight, the way he styles
his blonde hair so it’s perfectly scruffy, the way his arse cheeks flex when
he’s walking…

Dear
God this man is taking over my life. I’m either in for a wonderful ride… or I’m
totally screwed. On the plus side, I’m going to have fun finding out.

“So
I was thinking,” Holly said once we were settled on the bus heading for The
Brunswick shopping centre. She’d had to leave her car in the centre car park
after being blocked in by an anonymous arsehole when she nipped into work
earlier, so we were going to pick it up when we’d finished shopping. “We should
get you pampered for your man,” she added with a wink. Why didn’t I like the
sound of that? “You know, get you
waxed
and
stuff.” That’s why.

“
No one
except Jared is smoothing
anything
hot and sticky on my hoohaa,”
I said firmly.

“T.
M. I.”

“Seriously
though, why the hell would I want someone I’ve never met before to rip hairs
out of my ugly place? Not gonna happen, Hols. Not. Gonna. Happen.”

“Well
at least let me give you a makeover.” Her voice had turned all pleading and
childlike. Well that might work on her daddy but it wasn’t about to work on me.

“No
way. I think you’re beautiful, Hols… but I would
die
before I’d let you plaster my lips in that pink shit,” I
grumbled, nodding towards her shimmering lips.

“Fine.
But I’m doing your hair,” she insisted. “And don’t blame me when Jared dumps
you for being too hairy.”

“I
am
not
too hairy! I…
shave
the essentials,” I whispered the
last part. “Jesus, I’m not discussing this anymore. We’re on a bloody bus!”

Holly
dragged me round what must have been six-hundred different clothes shops. Okay
so I might be exaggerating slightly but the ache in my arms made it
feel
like that many, and I made a vow to
myself that I would never attempt shopping with Holly again until I’d invested
in a motorised chair.

I
hadn’t set out to buy clothes but ended up coming away with a vintage dress
with black sparrows printed on it, a new pair of distressed jeans and a neon
yellow off-the-shoulder jumper. Somehow a new lip stud with a ruby gem also
found its way into my possession too. I might not be able to afford anything
more elaborate than toast for dinner tomorrow, but hey, it’ll match my new
hair.

Holly
treated my chair like her own personal shopping trolley and by the time we were
in the hair dye aisle in Boots, my handles were overloaded with plastic and
paper bags. I eyed the row of boxed dyes up and down until I found the
selection of reds. I subconsciously skipped over the coppers and auburns and
went straight for the kill. I wanted
red
.
Not a hint of red. Not a reddy-brown. RED. Think London buses and postboxes…

“I
wish I had your balls,” Holly muttered. “You’re going to look great. Come on,
let’s get you home and make you look fabulous!”

“You
saying I look like crap now?”

“Stop
fishing for compliments. Come on.”

I
followed Holly out of the shop (after stopping to pay obviously) and I swear my
arms wanted to commit suicide by the time I’d finished hauling not only my arse
but three new wardrobes for Holly around. We stopped at the McDonalds Drive
Thru on the way home and I delved straight into my Chicken and Bacon Wrap,
wolfing the lot – fries and all – by the time we pulled up outside
my flat.

I’d
not even taken my jacket off before Holly was waving the boxes of hair dye in
my face. Laughing at her, I took myself into the bathroom and swapped my jumper
for a towel around my neck – fitting in a sneaky smoke while I was there.
Holly is one of those annoying anti-smokers, so I’d held off as long as I
could. Usually I’d bleach my previous colour out first but seeing as it was a
pretty faded shade of pink I went straight for the dye this time.

“Seriously
how has your hair not fallen out yet?” Holly asked jokily while combing my hair
into sections.

“Fifteen
quid a bottle conditioner, that’s how.”

Holly
started squeezing the dye along my roots and I shuddered as the cool cream
began spreading across my scalp. After using her gloved finger to smooth the
mixture over my hairline, she bust open the second box and began applying it to
my ends.

“It’s
already starting to take,” she noted. “You’re going to look so great.” I wished
I had a mirror nearby but had to settle for taking her word for it. When she’d
finished she went through to the bathroom to remove her plastic gloves and wash
her hands. I pulled out my Kindle but was distracted by my phone ringing before
the screen had finished unlocking.

“Hey,
Mum,” I answered after seeing her name flash up on the display – holding
the phone away from my ear and the wet dye.

“Hey,
sweetheart,” my mum greeted. Her voice was timid – wobbling slightly. “I
have some bad news about your dad.”

Oh shit…

“What
is it? Is he okay? What’s-”

“Oh
no, no, no… it’s nothing like that,” she assured. I swallowed my heart back down
and waited for her to continue. “He’s been made redundant. He’s looking for
something else but in the meantime things are going to be a little short. We’ve
been working some things out and
my
wages
will continue to cover your study fees but-”

“It’s
okay, Mum. I know where this is going.”

“I’m
so sorry, sweetheart. It means we’re going to have to reduce your weekly
allowance for a while.”

“Please
don’t be sorry. I’m so grateful to you both for everything you’ve done for me
– you know I am. But I’m a big girl and I should really have looked into
a job before now anyway. I’ve been taking you for granted.”

“Oh
no, there’s no need for that.”
Here we
go.
“You know you’re entitled to DLA, sweetheart. Please consider applying
for-”

“I
don’t
want
to live on benefits, Mum,”
I snapped a little harsher than I meant to. But in my defence, this wasn’t the
first time we’d had this conversation… or second, third or probably even
fourth. “I will
work
like everyone
else.”

“Oh,
Rachel, I wish you would just accept that you’re
not
everyone else.”
‘Cause
I’m ‘special’ right?
“You’re special.”
There
you go…
“You might struggle in the workplace. I don’t think you realise how
tough it can be. And the truth is not everywhere is equipped for people with
your needs.”

Holly
came back in the room in that moment and mouthed ‘who’s that?’ with a concerned
expression – probably after noticing the scowl on my face. ‘My mum’ I
mouthed back.

“Mum,
I know you worry about me but I know what I can and can’t do. I’m pretty sure
it will be obvious to an employer too,” I grumbled. “Look, Mum, I have to go.
I’ve got dye on my hair.”

“Oh,
Lord… what colour is it now?”

“Red.”

“And
I assume not a nice,
natural
red?”

“You
assume right,” I agreed with a small chuckle. “I’ll call you at weekend. Give
my love to Dad.”

“Of
course, sweetheart. Are we friends?” I rolled my eyes. She always feels the
need to make sure I don’t hate her whenever she’s expressed an opinion I
disagree with.

“You
know we are. I love you, you daft old mare.”

“Less
of the old! Bye, sweetheart. I love you too.” Just as I opened my mouth to say
goodbye it seemed she just had to get it in there one last time. “I just worry
about you, special girl.”
AAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGH
!
The knowledge that I know she only says these things because she cares so much
is the only thing that made me keep that scream internal.

After
finally getting my ‘goodbye’ in, I hung up the call and sighed exaggeratedly to
Holly.

“Mum
trouble?” she asked with a grin.

“She’s
just overprotective,” I said. “I also need to look for a job.”

“Ooo
you should come and work with me!” she beamed. “My boss Claire is hiring.”
Holly works weekends at a beauty boutique in Camden Town. Yep, you guessed it
– makeup, accessories, lotions and potions and a bunch of women who
squeal more than they breathe.

Don’t
get me wrong, I’m girly in my own way. I wear dresses and heels and make the
effort with my hair… I just don’t feel the need to wiggle giant pom poms with
every smile.

“I’ll
think about it,” I blatantly lied. “Is this ready yet?” I purposely changed the
subject, pointing up to my head.

“Another
five minutes. Where’s your hairdryer? I’ll get everything ready while we wait.”

“Chest
of drawers in my room. Take out whatever you want.”

Holly
disappeared again so once again I picked up my Kindle, only to be interrupted
yet a-bloody-gain. This time it was the sound of something being posted through
my letterbox.

“I
will
spend time with you later,
Woods,” I whispered to my Kindle – kissing the screen before putting it
back on the table. Then, after turning around I noticed a small white envelope hanging
in the wire basket attached to the letterbox. I made my way over and pulled it
out. Written on the front was:

Day 1
– your boyfriend x

My
heart did a little dance and when I teased open the envelope it felt like an
army of tiny mice were playing chase in my belly. Inside was a single, pink
rose petal and I tipped it out onto my hand.

“What’s
that?” Holly asked, sauntering into the room with a hairdryer tucked under her
arm and an array of styling products in her hands.

“It’s
a rose petal,” I answered, trying but failing to reign in my smile. “From
Jared.”

“A
petal
?” she asked quizzically. “
One
petal?
Why
?” I shrugged because I didn’t know the answer, but I suspected
I was about to get a petal for every day since I’d said yes. “It’s kind of cute
I suppose,” she added, still looking confused. “You ready to wash the dye off?”
I nodded, tucked the petal back in the envelope and made my way to the
bathroom, popping it in my handbag on my way past.

“I
can do it,” I said to Holly when she followed me into the bathroom rolling her
sleeves up.

“
I’m
doing your hair,” she insisted. What
is with everyone wanting to do my hair lately? I felt safe in the knowledge she
would do a better job than Jared however, so I did as I was told, leaned
forward and bent my head into the shower cubicle.

After
wetting my hair (and my face) with the showerhead, lathering, rinsing,
repeating, applying conditioner and lathering and rinsing again, I was good to
go. We went through to my bedroom and Holly combed through the tangled knots
before getting her groove on with my hairdryer.

“It
looks amazing,” she beamed, teasing individual strands with hair product. “So
bright! You got any nail polish remover for your hairline?” I directed her to
the chest of drawers where she found some acetone and cotton pads. She scrubbed
the red stains from my skin quickly and then took hold of my chair handles and
pushed me towards the mirror.

“Wow.
You should do this for a career!” I said, weighing myself up in the oval mirror
and flicking my hair from side to side. Oh fuck… I’d just turned into… a
prom queen
.

“You’re
so gonna get some tonight.” Hmm, that was my plan. “Now for makeup. I’ve
brought my entire collection.”

“Oooooh
no you don’t. I never agreed to you doing my makeup. I’m very particular.”

“Oh
come on, Rach. We’re having fun aren’t we?” she said with pleading puppy-dog
eyes. I was just about to refuse and then she fluttered her eyelashes at me.
Seriously!