You Really Got A Hold On Me

Long, Long, Long

Watching Paul enter and leave the shop without even being able to talk to him was torture. But there was nothing I could do. I just had to let it be. If I spoke to him that would mean to be with him and I couldn’t break the promise I had made with Dad. It was only Saturday – I had to wait until Thursday to see him again. I walked home with a heavy heart, tuna in hand.

“Got yer tuna Dad” I said, coming through the door.

“Thanks Michelle” he answered.

I put some into Darcy’s bowl and then carried it upstairs.

“Darcy” I called softly as I entered my room. Darcy rose from his nest and came over to greet me, grateful for the tuna.

I didn’t feel like doing homework so instead I sat at my desk and took out my sketchbook. The last thing I had drawn in there was Strawberry Fields – the day of my first day with Paul. I felt like doing a portrait again this time. Drawing always took my mind off things because it required maximum concentration – especially faces because I like to make them look as close to the real thing as possible. Perhaps I could draw Paul I thought. No, that would just make you think about him more, I thought. But I longed to have a go at drawing those gorgeous, dreamy eyes, those somewhat feminine lashes and oh that hair! The hair would be the most difficult part, it always was for me. I didn’t have a photograph of him but I could give it a go from memory. Paul had a distinctive face that you wouldn’t easily forget. So I set about sketching the outline. I always seem to get sucked in when I start drawing like the world continues on around me yet I am oblivious to it. I often do it when I have a lot of time to kill because the hours seem to pass me by faster than I can say Jerry Lee Lewis.

After I had done the eyes, nose and a bit of Paul’s skin ton, building up the colours, I head Dad call me for dinner. Reluctantly I set down my pencils and descended to the lower floor.

The next day the portrait was complete – I wouldn’t say it was perfect and I had drawn it from memory but I was still quite happy with it. I had procrastinated a lot in the morning because I didn’t want to draw the hair – I didn’t want to rush it so I just did it slowly and took breaks so I wouldn’t get frustrated. Eventually, by the evening it was complete. I always felt a sense of foreboding on Sunday evenings as I’m sure most people do. Everyone knows it’s Monday the next day yet no-one wants to say it for fear of ruining the remaining hours of weekend left. I reluctantly finished my last bit of homework for Monday then went to sleep, Darcy at the end of my bed.

On Monday morning I met Abby at the busstop as usual. I had been waiting for her to call on Sunday evening but I figured she must have been tired so I waited until I would see her today. I wonder how she had snuck out of her house this time. She may have used the bathroom window, it was a favourite of hers.

“Hey Abby!” I greeted her. As I came closer I noticed that she had bags under her eyes and wasn’t wearing a lot of makeup – not like Abby at all.

“Abby are you okay?” I asked.

“Yer” she yawned, “just tired.”

“What happened last night? With John?” I didn’t mention that she had forgotten to call me, it looked like she had had a rough night.

“Well, I met John at the pub like he said” she started, “but he got a bit drunk and I had to help him home and stuff. I took him to his place and his aunt was there, she’s strict as hell Michelle” my eyes were opened wide as I listened intently to Abby’s story of the previous night, “she told me I shouldn’t be hanging around with boys like John they’ll only get you into trouble, then I had to sneak back into me house real quietly cuz it was so late and the parents were asleep. I only got a few hours of sleep and I woke up late, hence this” she gestured at herself. “Ben was still awake though and he saw me but I begged him not to tell Mum and Dad and he promised he wouldn’t if I got him a date with this girl from school.”