15. sunrise
25174 / 50000
Two days late, but I'm finally halfway there! \o/ It feels like it's downhill from here so hopefully catching up shouldn't be too much of a problem. This chapter kept going off in the wrong direction but I think I managed to rein it in.
15. sunrise
Naomi.
1992 words
It's a long walk home from the house party, and Naomi isn't even entirely sure how to get back. The house--practically a mansion, really; Naomi doesn't know which tosser owned the place, but they must be fucking loaded--is somewhere on the outskirts of Bristol, and it takes her and Emily several wrong turns before they find a street they actually recognise. The sun is just starting to peek above the horizon. It's been a long night.
Naomi's still drunk enough that she doesn't really mind the cold, but Emily's shivering slightly beside her. She wishes she had a jacket she could lend her, or a scarf or anything, but she makes do with quickening her pace in the hope they'll get home faster.
"You know this is the third decade we've seen," Naomi says. So far 2010 doesn't seem to be much different to the decade just gone, although it's sort of hard to judge, only seven hours in.
"Well, that makes me feel old." Emily slips her hand in Naomi's and squeezes. "Any resolutions for a new decade?"
"I'm pretty sure I'm already perfect, Ems," Naomi says. "I don't need to change."
"Oh," Emily says, and Naomi frowns.
"That was a joke. You can usually tell when I'm joking, right?"
"Yes," Emily says, sighing. "It's just, I don't know, I thought maybe things could be a bit different now. You know, between us."
Naomi nods, and for a while she says nothing. The thing is, there has been something off about their relationship lately; nothing major, nothing that can be pointed at as being the one big issue dividing them, but the stupid fights keep piling up, a little harder to get over each time. She doesn't want it to be this way, but she's not sure how to make a change. All she knows is that making a stupid resolution is a guarantee for failure.
Eventually, she simply says, "I don't know how to change things."
"No," Emily says, "nor do I. But you want to, right? Sometimes I feel like I don't even know if you want to make this work."
"Of course I do," Naomi says, but the truth is, that's a realisation that's only come recently. "I mean, seeing you with Effy was just like..."
"You got jealous," Emily says, and when Naomi glances over at her she looks ridiculously happy about the fact, starts swinging their hands a little higher.
"Yeah, I suppose," Naomi says.
"I can't believe you hit her over me," Emily says, still smiling. "Very gallant."
"Yeah, I noticed you didn't exactly rush to my defence when she tried it on with me."
"I spent my entire childhood beating Katie up, so I'd probably have an unfair advantage if I actually tried to hurt Effy." She shakes her head. "I don't think it would really help, anyway. I mean, she seems to want people to hurt her, when what she probably needs is someone who understands her."
Naomi's surprised; for ages she assumed Emily still harboured resentments towards Effy for the incident with Katie and the rock--certainly she's been cold to Effy every time she's seen her, and has refused to talk--so she's not sure when this changed.
"Have you forgiven her?" she asks, and Emily shrugs.
"I don't know. I can't stay angry forever. Besides, I think it's Katie's place to forgive her, not mine."
Naomi nods. "If it helps, I really think she's sorry. She seemed sorry, last time we talked."
"You talk?"
"Well, sometimes." Naomi doesn't know why she feels guilty about it; it's not like she needs Emily's permission. "We're sort of friends, you know."
"Oh, I didn't realise." Emily's frowning slightly. "When was the last time you spoke to her?"
Naomi casts her mind back; apart from a few brief conversations at college, shared smoke breaks and the like, there's only really been one occasion. "Bonfire Night," she says. "After we had that stupid fight--which I'm still sorry about, by the way--I went back to her house and we watched fireworks and got drunk and bitched about stuff."
"Stuff like me?"
"Stuff like lots of things," Naomi says. "Like how Effy's a massive twat for stringing along a couple of stupid boys who love her a lot more than she loves them." Emily looks at her pointedly and Naomi, feeling uncomfortable, says, "And, yeah, a bit about you. I'm sorry."
"Well, that's just great," Emily says, and she lets go of Naomi's hand, starting to walk a bit faster.
"Em, don't be like that. It's just--sometimes I need someone to talk to, you know?"
Emily stops walking and turns to face Naomi. Her face looks eerie in the glow of a streetlight. "Why can't you talk to me?"
"Are you saying you've never complained about me to Katie, or fucking JJ, or Thomas or anyone? I don't... have people. You do." She shrugs. "And Effy gets me. Why do you even have a problem with this?"
"I just think that if we have problems, which we obviously do, we should talk to each other," Emily says.
"Well, that's what we're doing now," Naomi says. "Look, this is ridiculous. I'm sick of this stupid fighting. You know I love you, right?"
"Yes," Emily says. "I don't know, it's just--something about Effy. I don't even know what it is."
Naomi shrugs. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But I really do love you, yeah? I want to make this work."
"So do I," Emily says. "And you know, that could always be your New Year's resolution. Remembering to tell me that you love me."
Naomi laughs, and then she realises that Emily is probably serious. "Okay, okay. I can probably keep that one. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. That's got to be about a week's worth already."
"You know it doesn't work like that," Emily says, but she's smiling now. She takes Naomi's hand and starts swinging it again, and for the first time in a while, Naomi feels hopeful. She thinks that if they actually try, they might be able to make this work after all.
---
On the day of Emily's second interview at Cambridge, Naomi walks her to the train station. She looks nervous, Emily does; she's chewing on her bottom lip and Naomi can see the cogs in her head turning.
"Look, don't overthink it, all right? You'll get all confused and mixed up and end up saying the wrong thing. Just relax and treat it like you're just going to have a conversation with someone."
"A conversation that decides my whole future," Emily says.
"Yeah, you're thinking about it completely the wrong way. All they're going to do is ask you about the stuff you've been studying, you know, and you talk about that all the time to me. Just tell them what you tell me about how much Tess of the D'Urbervilles makes you want to stab your eyes out and that you think Angel Clare's a complete cunt, and you'll be fine."
"Do they let people study English degrees if they don't like Hardy?" Emily asks. "Oh God, they're going to reject me. This is going to be a nightmare, you know that? They're going to reject me, and then we won't go to the same university together, and then we'll break up, and then--"
Naomi shuts her up by kissing her, right there in the middle of the street.
"I said you were going to be fine, all right? Stop worrying." She takes Emily's hand and squeezes it. "Look, even if it does all go tits up and you don't get in, that's not going to make a difference to us, all right? We can cope."
Emily frowns at her. "Can we? I mean, I want us to be able to, but if we're at opposite ends of the country--"
"This country is quite small, you know," Naomi says. "You know how you always accuse me of being a terrible know-it-all? Yeah, well, that's because I'm right about everything, and I'm definitely right about this. So shut up and get on the fucking train, all right?"
"All right," Emily says, and they walk the rest of the way to the train station together. Naomi leaves Emily at the barriers, giving her another kiss for good luck and murmuring that she loves her. Emily goes a bit pink, and smiles.
"Okay, I'm going to do this," she says, before turning and going out on to the platform. Naomi watches her until she disappears from view, and sends her a text wishing her good luck again. She really wants Emily to get in.
---
A few days later, Emily knocks on Naomi's door. It's a Thursday, the one day Naomi and Emily both don't start college until eleven, but Emily comes round at ten.
When Naomi asks her what's up, all she does is hand Naomi an envelope and pushes past her to the kitchen, where she sits down and starts drumming her fingers on the table. Naomi sits down opposite her, staring at the envelope in her hand. The postmark is from Cambridge, and the envelope's still unopened.
"You came here before you opened it?" Naomi asks. "Don't you want to know if you got in or not?"
"I can't open it," Emily says. "You'll have to."
"Couldn't you have got Katie to do it? I mean, I doubt she'd hesitate, and you wouldn't have to cycle fifteen minutes to find her."
"Don't you want to know if I got in? Just open the fucking thing."
"Thought you were meant to be the brave one," Naomi says, but she can't blame Emily for being scared, not about this. It's not just her education; no matter how reassuring Naomi tries to be, neither of them can deny that there's a sense that if they don't end up in the same place, they're doomed. They can barely hold it together as it is.
"Just do it," Emily says.
"Fine." Naomi tears open the envelope, and takes out the piece of paper, scanning it quickly. "Oh."
"Well?" Emily says, but Naomi doesn't reply. She folds the paper back up and slides it across the table "Just tell me," Emily says again, but eventually she picks it up, takes a deep breath and unfolds the letter.
"Oh," she says, her voice small.
"I'm really sorry, Em," Naomi says, crossing to the other side of the table and pulling her into a hug. "It doesn't matter, yeah? It'll be okay."
Emily looks at her; thankfully she's not crying, she just looks annoyed. "How is it going to be okay? I didn't get in. And now you're going when you don't even want to, and I'll probably end up at Durham or somewhere, if I even get in, and do you know how long it takes to get the train from Durham to Cambridge?"
"No."
"Well, nor do I, but it's probably fucking ages." She leans on the table, head in her hands. When she speaks again, her voice is muffled. "I don't even care about not going to Cambridge, I care about not being with you."
Naomi almost corrects her, because she knows Emily was desperate to go to Cambridge, she remembers how much she'd loved walking around the colleges when they went to the Open Day, but she knows it wouldn't be the right thing to say now. She rubs circles on Emily's back and says, "Well then, you're being fucking stupid, because I'm not going anywhere. I mean it."
"You can't make promises like that," Emily says. "What if--"
"I don't care what if," Naomi says. "Look, I know I'm a twat and I'm not very good at the whole relationship thing, but I promise I'm not going anywhere. Okay?"
Emily looks up at her, and after a moment she manages a weak smile. "Yeah, okay."