Untitled - chapter two, part two *edited*

Hey all =] So this is the second part of chapter two of my Untitled story - I really need to think of title for it... Any ideas? I'm still struggling with writer's block so this is probably full of stupid mistakes. Anyways, I hope you like it! xDudettex

After removing a tissue from my bag, I turned my back to the door to face the tiled wall and tried to stem my tears. The wooden fronted cubicles were to my right and the bank of sinks and mirror were to my left. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. Especially not some rich snob. I felt my heart sink into my stomach. What was I doing here? I don’t fit in. I wasn’t rich or famous or beautiful. But Chace had said that I was pretty. Well, ‘not that bad.’ I suppose that’s a compliment, but I’m not sure if compliments from drunk people count.

I very nearly jumped when I heard the toilet door creak open and I tensed when I heard the sound of a pair of heels clicking past me on the granite tiles. I snuck a glance behind me and saw a woman in her late thirties wearing what was obviously a designer dress. The midnight blue silk caressed her body beautifully and I felt more tears welling. I looked down at my own clothes through blurry eyes. My emerald green shawl had fallen off of my pale shoulders and my shoes were scuffed. Well, Gabby’s shoes were scuffed. I had told her that she’d regret lending them to me. At least I haven’t ripped the dress she lent me, though, I thought and I breathed a sigh of relief. God knows how much this dress actually cost. ‘I’ve never worn it, so it doesn’t matter if you spill anything down it.’ Good old Gabby. Nice to know that she has so much confidence in me.

The door squeaked open again, but before I had a chance to peer behind me, I heard a familiar voice.

“Sadie? Is that you?.”

I bit my lip to stop myself from cursing. What was I supposed to say? She’ll start asking questions if she sees that I’ve been crying. Thankfully though, I didn’t even have to worry about replying as Gabby, the official chatterbox of England, carried on blabbering.

“Seriously Sad’. I don’t think that editor guy was best pleased when we both returned to find you gone. I’d dragged him away from this woman wearing an absolutely vile dress - green so wasn’t her colour. Anyway, he got all huffy and stalked off to the buffet table. Sadie, are you listening?”

I nodded my head slowly, feeling strands of my hair falling out of the plait that Gabby had spent ages arranging for me earlier.

“Honestly Sadie. You owe me big time.”

“Okay,” I coughed, trying to clear my throat. “I’m sorry about ditching you.”

I heard Gabby take a step towards me and then drop her handbag onto the marble countertop.

“Anyway,” she said, her voice a few octaves higher, now. “You’ll never guess who I bumped into.”

“Who?” I asked, trying to sound interested, though my mind still reeled from Chace’s words.

“Wait a minute. Why won’t you face me?”

My pulse sped up, causing my heart to thump forcefully against my ribs.

“Uh, ‘cause… It’s because… uh.” My mind went blank and I screwed up my eyes to try and think of a believable explanation.

“Whatever,” Gabby interrupted, her pitch still higher than usual. “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is who I bumped into. Take a guess Sad’.”

I exhaled slowly.

“I dunno.”

“Oh come on Sadie. Just take a guess.”

“Fine. Was it the Easter bunny?” Even with my back to her, I knew that Gabby would be rolling her caramel eyes at my stupid answer.

“Sadie! Don’t be such a Dingleburt.” Despite the tears, I managed a small smile at her choice of insult. Mr. Dingleburt had been Gabby’s old neighbour and it was fair to say that he’d been a bit on the simple side.

“Chace Milligan.”

My stomach flipped at the mere sound of his name.

“What?”

“Well you weren‘t guessing properly, so I thought I’d just tell you.”

Please, no.

“You bumped into…”

“Chace Milligan. I know. How amazing! He’s totally hot - I can see why he was voted the number one, fittest up and coming star.”

My head was spinning and I grabbed hold of the side of a sink to steady myself. Please don’t say that you spoke to him. He didn’t have time to talk to you.

“He has such a cute voice Sad’. His accent is adorable,” Gabby gushed, routing around in her bag. “And you haven’t even heard the best part yet.”

Please! No more. This can’t be happening. I just want to go home.

“He asked me for your number Sadie. Honestly. No lie. Pinkie promise and all that Jazz. He really did ask for it. He saw us talking to that French woman with the really high voice and he asked for your number about five minutes ago when I was at the buffet table.”

I felt as if someone wearing steel capped boots had just kicked me right in the stomach.

“Why aren’t you happy? You should be squealing!” She sounded dejected and had stopped rummaging in her bag.

I spoke through gritted teeth, my eyes shut tight. “Did you give it to him?”

“Well duh.”

Her words were another blow to the stomach with the steel capped boots. I stared blankly at the turquoise tiles on the wall in front of me. Another creak of the toilet door and more heels on the granite. I felt a hand on my shoulder and before I could stop myself, I’d whirled around to face Gabby.

“Honestly, Sad’. I thought you’d be… Oh no! Don’t cry.”

More tears rolled down my cheeks and I knew my eyeliner and mascara would be running along with them. Black smeared cheeks so isn’t a good look. I wiped my face with the crumpled up tissue in my right hand.

Gabby sighed softly, stepping forward to embrace me with her delicate frame. Her eyes were wide and she was chewing on her lip. “Sadie.” My shoulders shook as her arms held me close. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you’d start running around, screaming, like the time back in year seven when you found out that you and Danny Wiltshire had the same star sign.”

“It’s not your fault,” I sobbed. I could feel an incoming headache.

“Then why are you crying?” She asked gently and she rested her head on my shoulder. She could only reach because she’s wearing three inch heels. Gabby’s only five foot three and at five foot six, I seem to tower over her. I stepped back to wipe my eyes again.

Her voice was full of concern and she had her head titled to one side. “Is this why you wouldn’t face me?”

I shrugged, realising my own stupidity.

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed to cry in front of me! I mean, I’ve seen you in the morning without make-up.”

A small smile forced its way onto my tear-stained face.

“I wasn’t self conscious of you seeing me cry,” I mumbled, just as the lady wearing midnight blue appeared from a toilet cubicle. I glanced over at the lady and then back again. Gabby followed my gaze.

Gabby’s tone was disbelieving. “Rich people?”

I felt myself blush.

“Those snobs have their heads too far up their own arses to care to look at us,” Gabby snorted as the lady held her hands beneath a modern, silver hand dryer.

The woman must have heard her though; she left abruptly, her nose in the air. I watched as the toilet door swung shut. Why had I been so embarrassed of crying in front of people like her? A little voice at the back of my head answered for me: because you want to fit in. Realisation stung like a knife in the back. It was true though. That’s why I hadn’t dyed my hair until I’d left school. I hadn’t wanted my peers to look down on me because my hair wasn’t blonde or brown like their’s. If I’d had walked into school one day with my mousy brown hair suddenly vibrant red, then I would never had heard the end of it.

Gabby‘s voice pulled me out of my reverie. “So come on. You can tell me what’s wrong.” I felt more tears well in my eyes again. Because my dream guy turned out to be a disrespectful pig. Bad-mannered. A sleaze.

“You can tell me.” The expression on her heart shaped face was sincere and the concern in her eyes was unmistakable.

So I did. Without hesitation. And I didn’t hold back either - pouring my heart out to her about every single detail. Well, I may have left out the part where I’d been smoking.

By the end of my explanation, when I’d stopped to wipe more tears with a fresh tissue that I had grabbed from one of the dispensers, Gabby looked livid. Maybe I should have left out what he had said about her. Her rosy lips were pursed and her ash blonde eyebrows were drawn downwards into a frown.

“That stupid, idiotic, two-faced, moron,” Gabby seethed. Wow. She didn’t even curse once.

Thanks for reading!