The Call Sheet

Chapter 2 - Sarah

"I CAN'T, I am not going and you can't make me!!" I scream and kick my legs out as I throw myself on the bed, clothes and make-up strewn all around me. I know I am currently resembling somewhat of a toddler but right now I just don't care.

"Sarah, for the love of GOD pull yourself together! You are going for a drink, no one is asking for a kidney or marriage for fuck sake!" says Rachel, not unkind but definitely with a tone of annoyance. This is partly or mostly my fault. Rachel has been at my flat for the last 3 hours trying to help me pick something to wear and do my hair and make up.

So far this has resulted in an hour long fashion show, 6 outfit swaps, my hair has been straightened, pinned up, taken back down, curled, put back up , let back down and is now hanging to the side of my head in a messy bun somewhat similar to what it looks like after a spin class. My makeup has been put on and taken off 3 times now, first time it was too much, second time the bronzer was too dark and by the third time I have just accepted that the problem is in fact my face.

Rachel has been my best friend since I was 16 years of age. We met at school and have been inseparable since, except for the 4 years she abandoned me to go to University in London while I stayed in Ireland (Matthew's choice, not mine). Rachel is gorgeous, from her naturally tanned skin all year round, to her long, shiny, bouncy brown hair that falls down her back and deep dark brown eyes that draw you in. Rachel is kind and loving with a big heart who would go to war for you in a heartbeat . When she is in form she lights up a room, if she is in a bad mood or you have pissed her off, my advice is find the nearest bomb shelter and pray to God she doesn't find you. Rachel is not a person who shy's from the truth, that can rub people up the wrong way but I personally admire it, maybe because I wish that I could be the same way. You always know where you stand with Rachel and if you don't, well, she won't be afraid to tell you. She is one of the only people who ever called Matthew on his bullshit and gave me the confidence to stand up to him. This is probably what contributed to Matthew limiting how often I was able to meet up with Rachel - conveniently any times I made plans with Rachel, Matthew would have a booked for us to go to dinner to a ridiculously pricey restaurant that required a deposit so there was no way that he could cancel or a weekend away or he was sick. As the years went on it got easier to just say no to plans with Rachel than cancel and have to reschedule. Despite how horrifically shitty of a friend I have been over the last few years, Rachel never gave up on me, never stopped reaching out and never stopped seeing me as her friend Sarah. I know I would not have survived the last few months if it wasn't for Rachel. She called me 2-3 times a day, texting me all day, making sure I was eating, showering, sleeping. Rachel brought me out with all her friends and when I was having panic attacks on the bathroom floor she lay beside me holding me and stroking my hair until my body stopped shaking from the sobbing. Of course when I tell her all this I am met with an eye roll and the same phrase "Stop being such a sap Sarah, that's what friends do end of." But I know it's not, friends say they are there for you and send you the odd check in texts. What Rachel has done for me extends all boundaries of friendship and there is nothing I can say or do that can ever repay her.

But despite how loving and supportive she has been the last few months, right now I could throw something at her and her insisting that I go on this damn date. 'AGH" I groan as I shove my face deeper into the pillow on my bed trying to stifle the urge that I can feel growing in my stomach and moving it's way slowly up to my chest and throat, burning as it moves. At this stage I am not sure whether I am about to scream or vomit or maybe both? Good God why did I even say yes to this? Am I that much of a people pleaser that I would inflict this level of hell onto myself.

I feel Rachel's warm had on the back of my head as she strokes my head, thankful for this moment of affection to calm my nerves when, 'OW RACHEL WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK' I yell. Before I can finish my thought this gentle gesture turns into a hard slap round the back of the head.