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Authors: Nicola Haken

Saving Amy (22 page)

BOOK: Saving Amy
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“Anything. Office work, cleaning…”

“Oh, Amy no! You’re so much better than that!” he scolded and then pulled back again. “You
must
have a particular interest. You can’t have grown up aspiring to mop up other people’s piss,” he said, a little more relaxed. My lungs dragged in a welcome gulp of air. I didn’t realise I had been holding my breath.

“That’s irrelevant, Richard. I have no qualifications and no experience. I blew my chances of a high-flying career.” He shook his head, frustrated. How could he possibly disagree? I was talking fact.

“Just tell me, what did you dream of being when you were younger?”

Escaping.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I answered passively, praying he’d let it go. I shifted in the bed feeling uncomfortable, embarrassed…

“Humour me,” he probed and I knew there was no getting out of it. After sighing heavily, I gave in.

“I wanted to be a writer. Publisher maybe. Something in that field…” I blurted before I had chance to change my mind. Why was I so embarrassed? Richard’s jaw dropped open slightly and his eyebrow shot open so quickly I feared it might leap straight off his head.

“What? I’m not completely stupid you know!” I teased, though truthfully I was a little offended at the extent of his surprise.

“Amy, you are one of the smartest people I’ve ever met – there’s no question there. I just had no idea. I always find it remarkable learning new things about you,” he explained and I retracted my sulky pout.

“So, have you ever written anything?” he asked inquisitively. I nodded diffidently. My cheeks were on fire and I just knew he was going to ask if he could read something. “Do you still do it? Write, I mean.”

“Sometimes.” I shrugged, awkwardly.

“You’re not giving very much away are you?” I shrugged, again. It felt so discomfiting talking about myself. Richard was much more interesting and so I drew a deep, preparing
breath
, ready to change the subject. Unfortunately, he got in there first.

“What do you write about?”

“Stories mainly. Sometimes diaries, poems… anything really.” He smiled warmly and it looked like he might even be impressed. It spurred me on to continue. “I used to write for hours at a time. It was a sort of escapism I suppose - immersing myself in a world I could only dream of living in. It was the only way I ever got to experience a happy ending… before I met you of course.”

“I’d love to read something,” he said with a proud smile tugging at his lips.

Here we go…

“Well, I only have one notepad left. My dad burned the others,” I admitted solemnly, quivering at the memory. “It’s in my bag over there. I carry it everywhere since my dad found them.”

“Can I see?” he asked eagerly while hitching himself up on his elbows.

“I’d rather you read it when I wasn’t here. I’m kind of embarrassed.” Another look of genuine confusion washed over his face.


Why?
” he pressed.

“Because it’s probably just a load of old shit that makes no sense to anyone else. Please, I’d just feel awkward.”

“Whatever you say. Though you need to have more faith in yourself. I certainly do. You’re a very intelligent young woman, Amy.”

He shuffled back down the bed so we were face-to-face once again. His fingers worked their way into my hair, curling and twisting the loose tendrils as I studied how beautiful his face was lit up by the moonlight streaming through the window. Tenderly gripping the back of my head he pulled my face into his - kissing me, charging me,
wanting me.

No more talking occurred that night.

**********

By 7:30 PM I was all set for my big night out with Julie. I felt incredibly nervous but I couldn’t fathom why. Maybe it was the dress. After spending the best part of an hour raiding my new designer wardrobe I eventually settled on a plum, chiffon halter-neck that cinched at the waist and fell just below my knees. It was undeniably stunning… on the hanger.
On me?
I just wasn’t sure. Still, it was too late to change again – Julie had already text to say she was on her way.

I reached for my shoes – the only dressy ones I could find. They were black peep-toe with diamante bows and ankle-snapping heels. After slipping them on – naturally a perfect fit – I attempted to walk.

“Ah, fuck!” I screamed out loud when I stumbled and had to save myself on the red chaise longue. There was absolutely no way I would be coming home with all my bones intact tonight.
Good job you’re coming home to a doctor then,
my subconscious teased. It’d been in an uncharacteristically good mood lately.

“You look fantastic!” Julie practically sang when I met her in the lobby.

“So do you.” And she really did. Her rich-brown hair was scraped back into a bun with two loose ringlets framing either side of her face. She was dressed in a vivid red, backless mini-dress which I was sure would expose her panties if she was to bend down. Regardless, her stunningly perfect cheerleader figure pulled it off beautifully.

After requesting a cab from reception we walked outside to wait for it. Or rather Julie walked – I stumbled.

“For old times sake?” she asked, pulling a pack of smokes from her purse. Shrugging, I took it – out of curiosity more than anything. The first puff burned the back of my throat and I coughed and spluttered like a twelve year old trying to look ‘cool’. I gave it a couple more goes
anyway,
childishly refusing the let the sucker beat me.

Woah…

“Head rush,” I muttered, feeling a little dizzy. Julie laughed and it wasn’t long before I caught her infectious giggle.

“Amy Hope?” a smartly dressed, grey-haired man interrupted. I flicked the end of my cigarette behind me, prompting a disparaging look from a fellow guest, and walked (
stumbled)
towards him and the gleaming silver car he was stood against. This hotel must use the same kind of fancy-pants
cab company
as Richard. After nodding towards the well-dressed driver, Julie and I climbed through the door he was holding open for us and into the back seat.

“Holy crap, this is the smartest cab I’ve ever been in!” Julie’s eyes were wide and amazed as she ran her fingers over the soft, cream leather interior.

“You get used to it,” I teased with a wink.

Julie instructed our driver where to take us. We arrived at Bedazzled just over ten minutes later. It was nestled in the centre of a road lined with shops, nightclubs and palm trees – an odd yet perfect combination.

“Dammit! I’ve left my purse back in the hotel room,” I said in a fluster as the driver turned to collect his fare. I mentally slapped myself. I knew exactly where I left it and even remember telling myself not to forget it.

“No worries. I can see us through tonight. I’m a career woman now remember?” Julie smiled at me and nudged my shoulder but I still sighed, frustrated. It was hard enough relying on Richard and his gigantic wallet for everything, never mind Julie who had a hard enough time affording to feed
herself
.

“I’ll pay you back before we leave tomorrow.”

“Nonsense. Tonight’s on me.” I smiled gratefully at her and left it that. However, I fully intended to pop by her house on the way to the airport tomorrow with some cash. She would be at college anyway so she couldn’t exactly stop me posting it through her mailbox. With that decision in mind, I finally started to relax, vowing to enjoy myself.

Bedazzled was in essence just a giant warehouse - grey brick walls adorned with flashing fairy lights, no windows and a concrete floor with black and white tiles painted on it. When we crossed the entrance I was pulled back a step by a strong grip on my shoulder.

“I.D.?” a burly, grumpy-faced man asked when I turned around.

Shit.

“She’s with me,” Julie blared over the thumping music as if she were some kind of celebrity. He raised his hand off me instantly and waved me forward. What just happened?

“Let’s just say we had a bit of a ‘thing’,” Julie whispered loudly in my ear, complete with air quotes.

Eww.
I thought she had better taste.

“I was wasted,” she confessed with a revolted shudder. Was she reading my mind?

I followed Julie’s lead as we made our way through the lively crowd and over to the bar. Like old times she ordered two vodka-
Coke’s
and after passing it to me, I sipped it warily. It’d been quite a while and experience told me that it only usually led to trouble.
Things are different now,
my subconscious rationalised – thinking positively for the first time in its life. I wasn’t used to the annoying little voice making sense. It unnerved me and I wondered what torture it must have planned for later.

Julie tugged on my hand, pulling me towards the dance floor. I stumbled in my ridiculous shoes and ended up easing out of her grip while I bent down to take them off.
Oh, yes.
I sighed heavily and fluttered my eyelashes as I came down from the climax my feet had just experienced.

Julie and I danced – drink in one hand, shoes in the other – for what must have been hours, only stopping for bathroom breaks or to replenish our vodka’s. I was having such a great time. Fun and alcohol seemed like such a bizarre concept. I was pretty sure I was what people described as buzzed. My muscles were relaxed, the blood in my veins was warm and fuzzy and everything was just that little bit more amusing. I’d never experienced the feeling before and in all honesty it was pretty damn good. In the past I had only ever drunk to get drunk – going from stone cold sober to utterly obliterated in under twenty minutes.

By 2:30 AM the bar was quickly emptying – time to go home. I felt tired, woozy and gloriously happy… until I shamefully remembered this was the first night out I’d had with Julie that didn’t end up with me hurling into the street or fucking some stranger up a wall. I shuddered at the thought, utterly disgusted with myself. Could my life really have changed forever? God I hoped so.

“Thank you for the
best
time. I’ll miss you,” I said to Julie, pulling her into a
bear-hug
before we said our final goodbyes.

“You too. But hey, I’ll be home for Thanksgiving – that’s not too far away.” This was news.
Welcome
news. My lips stretched into a smile so wide my jaw began to ache. “One for the road?” she added, flipping open her cigarettes.

“Why not,” I agreed, giggling softly.

The coarse asphalt was starting to grate the soles of my feet so I chanced putting my shoes back on as I followed Julie to the circle of wooden benches around the side of the bar. Unfortunately I didn’t see the cluster of pebbles that had overflowed from a nearby plant pot, and as it turned out, the death-defying heels didn’t get along too well with uneven surfaces. Before I could yell ‘oh fuck’ I was flat on my face with my scuffed hands covered in dirt.

“Jesus, Amy,
are
you okay?” Julie fussed, crouching down in front of me and sweeping the hair out of my face. Instead of replying I snorted.
Actually
snorted. I think I was aiming for a laugh but the disorientation mixed with a dash of humiliation had rendered me speechless. Add in the after effects of more shots of vodka than I could count, and I couldn’t even summon the ability to make sounds interpretable by other human beings.

“What the hell are those?” Julie blared abruptly, bolting upright as I rolled myself over into a sitting position. Confused, I angled my head to look up at her but my eyes took a couple of extra seconds to catch up. When they eventually stopped on her face and she stopped swaying from side to side long enough for me to concentrate, I followed her fretful gaze.

Oh shit.

“N-nothing. They’re nothing,” I stuttered, yanking the hem of my dress back down over my thighs.

“Well they sure as hell don’t look like nothing. Let me see.” She reached for the bottom of my dress and I batted her hand away.

“Just leave it!” I unintentionally yelled. “Sorry, I just… I had an accident as a kid. I don’t like to talk about it.” I was one hundred percent sober now. My heart was racing, working extra hard to pump my entire body’s worth of blood to my cheeks it seemed.

“Amy, I’ve known you since sixth grade. We used to get changed together all the time back then. There were
no
scars,” she said, determined.

She was right of course. I made my first cut when I was fourteen after being floored by my dad and landing on the shards of a broken glass he’d thrown minutes earlier. I remember the feeling as it sliced into the back of my arm. It burned like hell – the pain was all I could think about. While I tried to stop the bleeding and the overpowering stinging sensation I briefly forgot how it happened – why it happened… who caused it to happen.

It was the most wonderful distraction… and I wanted more.

“You can tell me anything, Amy. You know that right?” Julie settled down beside me on the floor and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. Some people pointed and stared on their way past us but I can’t say I particularly cared.

“I don’t know what to say.” I shrugged and looked to the floor, too ashamed to make eye contact. “I’m a self-injurer? A cutter? A fucking fruit cake? I don’t really know the correct terminology.”

BOOK: Saving Amy
11.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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