12. party's over
19794 / 50000
Yesterday I wrote a grand total of 54 words (*facepalm*) so my goal is to write 6000 words over the weekend to get back on track. I guess Write or Die is going to become my new best friend.
12. party's over
Katie.
1861 words
Coming out to the club was a total fucking mistake, Katie realises. She doesn't even know why she bothered, except that it's been a while since she had a proper night out and Emily practically begged her to go with them, her and fucking Naomi, celebrating because they'd just done their Cambridge interviews, and Katie thought she'd go just to shut Emily up and stop her feeling so fucking sorry for Katie. It's not like she needs her pity, even if things have been shit lately.
But it was a total waste. Everyone was there--everyone she might like to see, plus everyone she definitely didn't want to see, even if some of them seemed to disappear after a while. Emily and Naomi left her so they could like, slut it up on the dancefloor just like they do every time they're out, and the only guy that even asked Katie if he could buy her a drink was JJ, and if even he's taking pity on her she might as well just like, off herself already, because clearly there's nothing to live for.
So she leaves, because it's that or hang around looking like a total fucking loser, and she's done enough of that in the last few months to last her a lifetime, thank you very much.
Outside in the cold, she realises she's drunker than she thought at first--too much Archers, which she drank too quickly and JJ was too happy to buy for her. She stumbles a little bit as she walks down the street, trying to find a cab, but it's too early for them to start queuing up and she doesn't know where the nearest taxi rank is. After stumbling a bit too hard she takes her heels off, because the last thing she needs is the humiliation of falling over in front of--well, in front of not many people at all, it's kind of deserted, but she still doesn't want to.
She picks her shoes up and happens to glance to her left, into an alley, and she realises with a shock that someone's there, leaning against the wall and smoking. At first only the tip of their cigarette is visible, but then her eyes adjust and she realises it's Effy.
"Christ," she says, and Effy snaps her head round to look at Katie. She looks upset--not like she's been crying; Katie can't imagine Effy doing that--and like she's been caught.
"What are you looking at?" Effy says, and her voice sounds so shaky that Katie realises that maybe she has been crying after all.
"Nothing," she says, then, "Sorry," even though she doesn't know what she's saying sorry for.
Effy ducks her head like she's waiting for Katie to go away. For a moment Katie looks at her, feeling like she ought to say something, but she has no idea what. So she turns and leaves, feeling rattled, the same way she feels whenever she sees Effy--all wrong and out of sorts, like she's been woken from a dream too abruptly.
She walks a few paces down the street, keeping an eye out for a taxi but finding none. She doesn't have the numbers of any firms either, so she's probably going to end up walking all the way home, barefoot. She sighs. Fucking typical the night would end like this, with her alone and freezing cold and having to make the trek all the way home by herself. She could probably get like, raped and murdered and no one would even notice.
Fuck, she's drunk.
"Katie?"
She glances up sharply. Up ahead is Cook, grinning at her like an idiot. His nose is bloody.
"What you doing out here by yourself then, love?" he asks, strolling up to her, but she shrugs off his question.
"Nothing. Fuck off."
"Hey, no need to be like that now. Let's get you home, yeah?"
"Whatever." She keeps walking and he falls into step beside her. For a few minutes they walk in silence, and it's surprisingly comfortable; he doesn't make any sort of comment or judgement about her being alone, at least.
After a while, he says, in a casual sort of way, "You see Effy back there?"
She glances at him sharply. "Yeah. Why?"
"Nothing, babe, nothing." He looks up at the sky, keeps walking along with his hands shoved in his pockets. Eventually he says, "How'd she look?"
"I dunno," Katie says. "Upset, I suppose. Did something happen?"
He shakes his head. "Nah, it didn't. That's the thing." He doesn't expand on it any more than that.
"You're still like, properly in love with her, aren't you?" Katie asks.
He shrugs, still not meeting her eyes. "That girl just gets under your skin, you know? I don't know what it is about her." He laughs suddenly; it sounds loud in the empty street. "JJ said she was fit and mysterious. Just about sums her up, don't it?"
"JJ said that?" Katie doesn't know why that vaguely bothers her. Last year he'd followed Effy around like a puppy, just like Freddie and Cook had, but Katie figured he was just going along with the crowd.
For a while they walk through the dark streets, past the smattering of Christmas lights that adorn some of the houses. They don't say much else until they reach Katie's road. Katie points out her house when they get to it and says, "Well, thanks for walking me home." She pauses, then adds, "You know I'm not going to shag you, right?"
"All right, babe, I wasn't asking." He looks affronted. "Not that I wouldn't, you know, but I can tell when it's not that sort of thing."
"Right," she says. "Sorry."
Smiling a little sympathetically, he says, "Blokes expect that from you, don't they?"
"Yeah," she says. "Well, not so much any more, really."
"For the record, I thought what Freddie did to you was shit." He smiles and pats her arm in a friendly sort of way. "Cheer up, babe. You're fucking class, you know that? You'll find someone. Someone who appreciates you."
Returning his smile, she says, "Yeah. Maybe we all will."
When she reaches her bedroom she snaps on the light, surprised when a muffled sound of protest emanates from Emily's bed.
"You're back already?" Katie says, frowning at Emily. "I thought I left before you."
"I took a taxi." Emily squints at Katie's feet; when Katie looks down, she realises they're filthy. "Did you walk?"
Katie nearly asks how the fuck Emily found the one taxi in Bristol, but she doesn't bother--all of a sudden she realises how tired she is, and there's no need to pick a fight. She drops the shoes she's been carrying and starts to change into her pyjamas, too tired to clean her feet or even take her makeup off. Whatever, she doesn't care. Just when she's ready for bed and about to turn the light off, she glances at Emily again and realises her eyes are red.
"Em, have you been crying?"
"Switch the light off, Katie, I want to go to sleep."
Katie does as she's asked and climbs into bed, but she doesn't drop the subject. "You were all right when I left. What happened?"
"Nothing." Her voice sounds scratchy. "You probably don't care. I told Naomi I thought I fucked the Cambridge interview up, and she wasn't very sympathetic."
"She's a bitch." The words come out by instinct, and Katie only realises too late that it's probably not what Emily wants to hear.
"She's not," Emily says, sounding pissed off. "It's just--sometimes I feel like I love her more than she loves me, and every time I try to bring us closer she slips away."
"So give her some space," Katie says. "Trust me, yeah. She's like a boy, and boys don't like it when you're too clingy. You try too hard, Em. Just don't call her for a couple of days and make her realise what she's missing."
"But if I didn't try hard she wouldn't have gone out with me in the first place."
"So? It's not last year. Things change."
"Yeah," Emily says. "Yeah, I suppose they do."
"And the interview was probably fine," Katie says. "You always do well, you know? You're the good twin."
Emily laughs. "I don't think I've been the good twin since I became the gay twin."
"Yeah, well, maybe I'll lez out too, take all the pressure off you."
Emily laughs harder and Katie finds herself smiling too; it's been a while since she's known how to cheer Emily up--years, probably--and she's glad they've still got that.
"Would you?" Emily says, and it takes Katie a moment to realise what she's asking.
"Fuck off, Em, it was a joke."
"So you wouldn't?"
"Course I fucking wouldn't," she says. She's never even considered it for a moment. "Christ."
"I was just asking," Emily says. "So how was your night? Can't have been worse than mine."
"I dunno," Katie says. It started off shit, but by the time she got back home it hadn't seemed so bad. Then she remembers the one thing that unnerved her most. "I saw Effy."
If she could see Emily through the dark, she'd probably be frowning. "Did she say anything?"
"No, she just--she looked sad. I think she might have been crying." She can still picture her now, standing in the alley, alone. "Serves her right."
"Katie," Emily says, in a gentle voice that she doesn't usually use with her, "I know what she did was awful, but you have to let it go. I mean, if you still care about Freddie--"
"I don't," Katie snaps. "I just--I can't just forgive her, all right? She's never even fucking apologised." She rubs at her eyes; she doesn't even know why she's fucking thinking about Effy now, why she thinks about her ever.
"I know," Emily says. "But you do this a lot. Talk about her. I don't think it's good for you."
"Yeah, well, neither was getting hit over the head with a fucking rock." She sighs. "Look, it doesn't even matter. I was actually all right before we started talking about her. I mean, Cook walked me home and he was actually really nice to me, and--"
"Cook? Do you like him?"
"No, not like that. But it's like, not a lot of people are nice to me these days, they either feel sorry for me or treat me like some sort of freak. And he wasn't like that." It strikes Katie that she's still pretty drunk. "Fuck, I don't normally talk about this sort of stuff, do I."
"No, but I'm glad you are." Emily shifts where she's lying in bed and when Katie turns over, she can just make out Emily looking at her through the dark. "You know you can talk to me about stuff, Katie."
"Yeah, well, you went on and on about Naomi, I thought I'd bore you in return with my own problems."
Emily smiles. "Night, Katie."
"Night, Ems."
It's not like the old twin thing they used to have, but Katie thinks it might be better.