Take My Hand Read Online Free PDF Page A

of her ignoring me I summoned some courage right from the pit of my
stomach and spoke to her first.
    “Why are you so horrible?” I asked bluntly. I
remember her looking at me all wide-eyed and shocked like she couldn’t believe
I actually had a voice.
    “You’re not supposed to say things like that.
You’re supposed to feel sorry for me. I’m ‘special’ remember?” she snapped
bitterly, flicking her brown hair off her little round face. It’s strange
remembering Rachel with brown hair. It’s permanently been a different colour of
the rainbow since she was fifteen.
    “Well I don’t,” I snapped back –
pouting like only children can. “Just because you can’t walk doesn’t mean you
can be nasty to me. I don’t even want to be your friend. I’m only here
because my mummy forces me to come every week.” And that’s what did it. Once
Rachel saw that I didn’t give a crap whether she was stood up or sat down, or
that I wasn’t some goody two shoes wanting credit for befriending the crippled
kid – she thawed almost instantly.
    We’ve been inseparable ever since.

 
    **********

 
    Why was I doing this again? Oh yeah, because
Rachel forced me. I’d just done my makeup for the third time with the stuff I
bought in Tesco this morning. I did our first grocery shop before breakfast (I
had to if we wanted to eat today) and I arrived home feeling awfully
independent and grown up. Yeah, that really is as pathetic as it sounds.
    I was surprised to find the store was set out
just the same as the ones up north, which meant I gathered what we needed
quickly. I knew my way around Tesco like a second home. My mum has always
shopped there, except when someone she wanted to impress was coming for dinner
and then she would up her game and shop at Marks and Spencer’s.
    Once I was somewhat happy with my face I teased
my hair up into a messy bun, just like a magazine article once showed me. I was
ready to go in my skinny black jeans, silver halter-neck and suede cowgirl
boots. All I had to do now was some incessant foot tapping while I waited for
seven o’clock to arrive.
    Jared planned to pick me up from the flat but
when I opened my mouth to reel off the address Rachel jumped in and said I’d
meet him at the pub instead. Then she whispered in my ear something about
potential stalkers and rapists. As if I wasn’t nervous enough already!
    “Stop fidgeting. You’ll have him thinking
you’re backwards,” Rachel said followed by a disapproving tut. I looked at my
bracelet watch – fifteen minutes to go.
    “I’d best get going I suppose,” I muttered.
Fifteen minutes should be plenty of time to hail a taxi and get to the pub with
a few minutes to spare.
    “Oh no you don’t.” Huh? “You’re not
leaving till seven.”
    “But I’m meeting him at seven.”
    “Exactly. You need to keep him waiting. The
build up of not knowing if you’re gonna show or not will make him want you all
the more, trust me.”
    “Whatever,” I dismissed her, waving my hand.
Punctual was my middle name and I’d only end up more anxious if I thought I was
going to be late. Besides, maybe I didn’t want him to want me even more.
“I’m leaving now . Love you.” I bent down to kiss the top of her head.
    “Love you too, Ho. And remember – no
tongues on the first date.” Rolling my eyes and giggling softly, I grabbed my
handbag and left for the most nerve-wracking night of my life to date.

 
    When I walked into the bar I spotted Jared
propped up on a barstool chatting to the nameless American barman from last
night. He was sporting the same uninterested grimace, hostile posture and
shaggy brown hair (not ordinary boring brown – if I looked carefully
enough there were tiny threads of blonde peppered through the layers which
rested in a ruffled heap on top of his head) as the last time we met too.
    Hold on a sec… I was supposed to be focusing
on Jared – not Mr Anonymous.
    “Hey, cutie!” Jared gleamed with a