Fic: 'I've Wanted You Too Much'
Title: 'I've wanted you too much'
Pairing: Freddie/Effy and Freddie/Cook (friendship)
Rating: M (For language)
Words: 2654
Summary: Freddie and Effy's relationship in the summer after 3.10. All characters make an appearance (bar Thomas)
Disclaimer: Not my characters
A/N: This is unbeta'd so any mistakes are all mine. Title from Muse 'Nature 1'.
I have a couple of other skins fics in mind (different pairings), so would really appreciate hearing what worked/didn't work so well
Nothing changes after the boat.
Freddie wonders if it really happened at all, or if it was all a drug induced dream. It was a good dream though; he got the girl and kept his best mate, so yeah, it was a good dream.
The reality is somewhat different.
Effy still looks at him - like, really fucking looks at him - in a way that makes his heart stop for beats at a time, but is still painful for her.
Cook still gets fucked up, still fucks around. Freddie worries about Cook sometimes. Worries that Cook can offer Effy something that he can't - a meaningless shag to make things better. To help her forget.
Freddie still wants the things that he can’t have.
---
He sparks a spliff in the shed one night, just to clear his head. Thinks of Emily and Naomi; grandstand finishes, public declarations of love and slow claps. Thinks that’s how it should be and takes a long, slow drag.
‘She loves me’ he says to himself, over and over. ‘Effy Stonem loves me’. She said it. She said it out loud, so it must be true.
---
‘Christ, Freddie, it stinks in here.’ Freddie looks up to see Karen sniffing the air dramatically.
‘Fuck off Karen’, he retorts, but it’s without venom. He doesn’t mean it. Not really anymore.
‘Getting monged again? What’s your little princess done now?’
Freddie thinks carefully. He hadn’t intended on getting fucked at all, just one to chill out, but he looks down at the floor next to his chair and sees two more butts and - oh. How long has he been in here then? He shakes his head clear and passes Karen the weed.
She takes a light puff, ‘Dinner’s ready.’
‘Not hungry’ he mutters, as his stomach growls. Karen raises her eyebrows and passes back the spliff.
‘Suit yourself then, waster.’
Freddie just rolls his eyes and waits until she leaves before digging out the pizza box from last night and stuffing the leftover crusts in his mouth.
‘Nice one man, save some for me, yeah?’ Freddie’s head shoots up and when his eyes focus he sees Cook, bashing through the door, six pack in hand, and JJ following in his wake. Freddie takes a few minutes to compose himself; time Cook takes to make himself comfortable, cracking open a can in one hand and scratching at his crotch with the other.
‘Aaaah, nice. Pass the spliff, Freds’
Freddie narrows his eyes, concentrates hard to make sure he’s definitely not hallucinating (it wouldn’t be the first time) before he replies,
‘Cook, what are you doing here?’
‘We’re going out Fredster. Me, you and Gay-J. I need to get my dick wet, like yesterday’
‘What…Hang on, have we just gone back in time or something?’ Cook just looks at him like he’s stupid while JJ fidgets nervously in the background.
‘Come out with us Freddie; the three musketeers at large again!’
It’s the painfully optimistic look on JJ’s face that makes him nod dumbly (like all this could really be fixed with a few pints and a smoke), or maybe it’s the fact that Freddie’s so high that he doesn’t notice that he’s agreeing until he already has. The three of them are on route to Thomas’s club before he remembers that they aren’t even proper friends again, not since the boat, and that nobody apologised at all.
---
Cook necks some pills at the club, gets proper fucked up. Freddie comes back from the bar to find him chatting up three girls, JJ by his side watching intently. Freddie had once tried to explain to JJ that Cook was just a tit and he thought that it worked on girls. JJ nodded seriously, before pointing out that Cook had a 43% success rate with ‘tit’, while Freddie had a 28% success rate with ‘standing around’.
At the time Freddie had laughed and ruffled JJ’s hair, but he doesn’t find it so funny now. He isn’t really sure what is meant to happen after the first bit anyway. Katie had always spelt it out for him: ‘Take me out for dinner, babe. Be at mine for eight, yeah? Dress smart’. And that was that. Doesn’t know what to do with Effy though. Effy has always been different.
‘Fred-eee!’ Cook shouts across at him, ‘Top quality totty man, fucking A star’ as he pinches some blonde’s bum and she giggles back at him. ‘Don’t say I’m not good to you mate, Julie here has been hearing all about my main man and she is gagging to get to know you!’
Cook winks in his direction and licks his lips before reaching behind Julie’s shoulder to grab one of her friends.
‘Uh…look’ Freddie starts, shifting awkwardly. ‘I’m not really… y’know. I mean- I have a girlfriend.’ Freddie’s eyes turn back to Cook, laughing uproariously at something JJ is doing with some cards, his arm now draped over a different girl.
‘Not here tonight is she?’ Julie asks
‘No. Actually, I had better- well, you know.’ He shrugs, pushes past the queue of people forming at the cloakroom and slips into the toilets. He leans back against the wall, feels the vibration of the bass pumping through it, and wonders what the hell Cook is playing at.
‘Oi, Freds! What the fuck man?’ Cook has to shout right next to Freddie’s ear so he can hear him, ‘That was a guaranteed shag I just got for you.’
‘Cook, I’m with Effy.’
‘So what?’ Cook looks at him for a minute, before his eyes get a bit wider and a grin spreads across his face. ‘Fucking hell. You think she’s serious?’ He laughs and slaps Freddie on the shoulder, shaking his head. ‘Oh, mate.’
Freddie shrugs the hand off. ‘She loves me’
Cook’s face turns serious, ‘Yeah? Wake up Freddie. She loved me too. Fuck does love mean anyway?’
Freddie shakes his head furiously, ‘She loves me’
‘Ha. You pussy. Whatever. Threesome for me then, right?’ Cook laughs as he heads back into the club.
Freddie wonders what he has to do to convince anyone, to convince himself, that Effy loves him and that this is going to work.
---
He almost walks right into her when he leaves the club.
Cook’s face had twisted when he spotted her over Freddie’s shoulder and he had shot Freddie an odd look before telling JJ they were going back to his and dragging him off in the opposite direction from Freddie’s house. Freddie was quite glad to not have to deal with any more of Cook’s ‘everything’s back to normal’ shite so he just shrugged and turned straight into Effy.
She was leaning against the wall of the club, fag in hand, wearing one of those t-shirt dresses that made her all leg. And arse. All leg and arse, Freddie thinks, before wishing his trousers weren’t quite so tight. Effy cocks an eyebrow slightly.
She exhales smoke off to the side, drops the filter to the ground and stomps it out with the sole of her boot. ‘Hi.’
Freddie tries to compose himself; wishes he wasn’t quite so out of it. ‘Hey’
‘I was just -’
‘Yeah, cool.’
Freddie doesn’t want to know what she came to do, it’s enough that she’s there. He hazards a smile at her, ‘Coming, then?’
She nods and leads the way back to his. Freddie tries to keep up, tries to grab for her hand even, but doesn’t manage it, and instead sticks to following - which, he thinks, at least he has plenty practice of.
---
Freddie won’t think of what they do as making love. She won’t let him. It’s too desperate and too urgent. It’s just a fuck; all ‘more’ and ‘harder’ as she clutches at him, digging her nails into his back so hard that it hurts.
As soon as it’s over she gets up, slips her top over her head, wraps an arm around herself and lights up. Freddie wraps his arm around a pillow and tries to sleep.
---
After that night Cook seems to think that it’s all sorted then, mates for life and all that, so he arranges a night out with everyone the week before college goes back. It’s only Keith’s pub, but Cook has this idea that something big is going to happen, and maybe he’s right - the last time they all got together with alcohol his current girlfriend nearly killed his then girlfriend with a swift blow to the head; so yeah, something big could happen Freddie guesses.
Maybe things have changed since last year after all.
Pandora seems a bit less naïve when she shows up, late and without Thomas, which she says is a buggering long story and it’ll all be tickety boo anyway, so no one asks any more. JJ stutters a bit less, looks like he might be enjoying his evening instead of just putting up with them all for the sake of having friends. Cook is, well actually, he hasn’t changed at all, Freddie thinks. The biggest change is in Emily and Katie’s role reversal. Katie is sat at the end of the table, head bowed, cradling her double vodka and diet coke, refusing to make eye contact with him or Effy - but especially not Effy. Emily is sat next to her, grin plastered from ear to ear, craning her neck up to whisper things in Naomi’s ear (she says something that makes Naomi flush and giggle slightly before she realises where she is and then looks around, embarrassed. Nonetheless, she doesn’t remove her arm from round Emily’s waist).
Freddie must be drunk already, as he feels his stomach twist a bit at their sickly sweetness. He squeezes his hand on Effy’s thigh; feels it tense in response.
Her eyes turn to him, challenging, ‘What?’
‘Nothing. I just…’ he shrugs. His eyes trail off to see Emily rest her head on Naomi’s shoulder, giving a contented smile when Naomi kisses her on the top of her head.
Effy must have followed his gaze, as she looks slightly paler when he turns back round.
‘Me and Panda are going.’ She says flatly. Pandora’s head shoots up in surprise. ‘Alone.’ Effy adds when Freddie opens his mouth to protest.
‘We are? Oh right, yeah of course. Wait, Eff, where we going?’
Effy blinks and tells Pandora to get her coat.
‘You’ve pulled love!’ Cook supplies helpfully, to a round of groans.
---
When they’ve left - without so much as a backward glance at Freddie - Katie perks up a bit.
‘Thank fuck that slut’s gone, might get some decent talent around here now,’ she says, with a pointed look towards Freddie and Cook. ‘Not stupid, obsessive twats’ she adds, in a voice that Freddie is pretty sure Katie thinks is under her breath, but definitely isn’t.
Cook laughs heartily. ‘Want to know about my talent, Katie?’ He says, thrusting his hips towards her face.
‘Urg - get lost you tosser. No one wants to see that again.’ She pushes him back into his seat, slams her empty glass back on the table and stands. ‘I’m going to find some real men’, she smirks over her shoulder at Emily, who just rolls her eyes in a very Naomi-esque manner.
Freddie decides to do the right thing, so he gets up and follows her to the bar.
‘Katie, look, about Effy ’ he starts, but falters quickly when he sees Katie’s face cloud over and her eyes narrow.
‘I don’t know what you think you’re doing, babe, but don’t fucking bother, ok?’
‘I just, I wanted to say sorry, you know.’
Katie snorts, ‘You wanted that trampy bitch, and just cause you’ve changed your mind about girls with flat tits does not mean you get to come crawling back to me.’
‘No, that’s not it. Effy - she’s sorry.’
‘Like I give a shit about her. Whatever. Wonder if she thinks you were worth it.’ She pauses and looks him dead in the eye. ‘I wouldn’t get your hopes up, babe. Is she worth it? Fucking me over for? Is she everything you dreamed, then?’
Freddie doesn’t think Katie is actually looking for an answer, and it’s for the best really, as he doesn’t know what the hell to say to any of that.
‘You’re a joke. Both of you.’ She spits out, before turning smartly on her heels, leaving him standing alone.
---
The walk to Effy’s house should only take about thirty minutes, but Freddie’s ambling and its closer to fifty minutes after he left the pub before he’s ringing the bell. Anthea opens the door with a sigh.
‘Bit late for this isn’t it?’
‘I just need to speak to Effy. Can I come in?’
Anthea shakes her head but stands aside anyway, letting Freddie through. He makes his way up the stairs but pauses outside Effy’s room when he realises he’s not sure what he wants to say. He screws his eyes tight and tries to focus on what he needs to say. Doesn’t want to fuck things up twice in one night. He knocks and enters. She doesn’t even raise her head to acknowledge him from her place on the edge of the bed, but he presses on anyway.
‘Effy, can we talk?’ he calls from the doorway
That makes her glance up and she half snorts at him. Yeah, right, of course. Effy doesn’t do that.
‘You still picked me. On the boat, you know, after that stupid fucking race-’
‘Which you lost’ Effy interjects.
‘Wha - No. Cook hit me and…’ He shakes his head, ‘Look, it doesn’t matter yeah; you picked me. You picked me and I picked you.’
‘So?’
Freddie gathers all the dutch courage he can before he calls her out on all of this stuff she has going on; all of this elusive, mysterious bullshit.
‘Effy, who do you think you’re kidding?’
She freezes for a split second, before her eyes meet his again, this time with a hard stare.
‘Who are you kidding Freddie? Let’s not pretend anymore.’
Freddie doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about, and she must take pity on him or something, because Effy does something she hardly ever does and stops talking in bloody riddles.
‘You’re not very subtle, Freddie. I’m not enough for you.’
She only whispers it, but Freddie feels the words like a slap in the face. Wants to deny it, because it’s just not true. He can hear Katie’s voice running through his head and wishes it would just fuck off already because this is what he wants.
‘You could be, Eff.’ He feels like he’s pleading with her, feels everything slipping through his fingers. ‘You could.’
She shakes her head at him, just once and Freddie can actually feel his heart sinking in his chest, settling low in his gut.
‘So this is it then? You’re giving up?’ Hurt gives way to anger and frustration; the waste of the last year, messing up his relationship with Katie, messing up his friendship with JJ and Cook. Messing up everything with Cook.
‘Fucking hell, Effy!’ He shakes his head at her, curling his lip unattractively, and leaves.
---
This time, when he looks up at her window and she looks down at him, he thinks it shouldn’t be as bad as the last time. That at least this time Cook wasn’t there to letch over her. It’s not though, it’s worse. Because back then someone felt like they were winning.
---
Once he’s stopped wiping at his eyes with the cuff of his hoodie he calls Cook.
‘She’s…’ and then trails off, because the problem was that Freddie never knew what Effy was.
‘Fuck her then, that bitch’ comes Cook’s response, just like Freddie knew it would be.
‘Yeah,’ he agrees, ‘yeah, fuck her.’
‘Shed, then?’
‘Yeah, shed.’
Pairing: Freddie/Effy and Freddie/Cook (friendship)
Rating: M (For language)
Words: 2654
Summary: Freddie and Effy's relationship in the summer after 3.10. All characters make an appearance (bar Thomas)
Disclaimer: Not my characters
A/N: This is unbeta'd so any mistakes are all mine. Title from Muse 'Nature 1'.
I have a couple of other skins fics in mind (different pairings), so would really appreciate hearing what worked/didn't work so well
Nothing changes after the boat.
Freddie wonders if it really happened at all, or if it was all a drug induced dream. It was a good dream though; he got the girl and kept his best mate, so yeah, it was a good dream.
The reality is somewhat different.
Effy still looks at him - like, really fucking looks at him - in a way that makes his heart stop for beats at a time, but is still painful for her.
Cook still gets fucked up, still fucks around. Freddie worries about Cook sometimes. Worries that Cook can offer Effy something that he can't - a meaningless shag to make things better. To help her forget.
Freddie still wants the things that he can’t have.
---
He sparks a spliff in the shed one night, just to clear his head. Thinks of Emily and Naomi; grandstand finishes, public declarations of love and slow claps. Thinks that’s how it should be and takes a long, slow drag.
‘She loves me’ he says to himself, over and over. ‘Effy Stonem loves me’. She said it. She said it out loud, so it must be true.
---
‘Christ, Freddie, it stinks in here.’ Freddie looks up to see Karen sniffing the air dramatically.
‘Fuck off Karen’, he retorts, but it’s without venom. He doesn’t mean it. Not really anymore.
‘Getting monged again? What’s your little princess done now?’
Freddie thinks carefully. He hadn’t intended on getting fucked at all, just one to chill out, but he looks down at the floor next to his chair and sees two more butts and - oh. How long has he been in here then? He shakes his head clear and passes Karen the weed.
She takes a light puff, ‘Dinner’s ready.’
‘Not hungry’ he mutters, as his stomach growls. Karen raises her eyebrows and passes back the spliff.
‘Suit yourself then, waster.’
Freddie just rolls his eyes and waits until she leaves before digging out the pizza box from last night and stuffing the leftover crusts in his mouth.
‘Nice one man, save some for me, yeah?’ Freddie’s head shoots up and when his eyes focus he sees Cook, bashing through the door, six pack in hand, and JJ following in his wake. Freddie takes a few minutes to compose himself; time Cook takes to make himself comfortable, cracking open a can in one hand and scratching at his crotch with the other.
‘Aaaah, nice. Pass the spliff, Freds’
Freddie narrows his eyes, concentrates hard to make sure he’s definitely not hallucinating (it wouldn’t be the first time) before he replies,
‘Cook, what are you doing here?’
‘We’re going out Fredster. Me, you and Gay-J. I need to get my dick wet, like yesterday’
‘What…Hang on, have we just gone back in time or something?’ Cook just looks at him like he’s stupid while JJ fidgets nervously in the background.
‘Come out with us Freddie; the three musketeers at large again!’
It’s the painfully optimistic look on JJ’s face that makes him nod dumbly (like all this could really be fixed with a few pints and a smoke), or maybe it’s the fact that Freddie’s so high that he doesn’t notice that he’s agreeing until he already has. The three of them are on route to Thomas’s club before he remembers that they aren’t even proper friends again, not since the boat, and that nobody apologised at all.
---
Cook necks some pills at the club, gets proper fucked up. Freddie comes back from the bar to find him chatting up three girls, JJ by his side watching intently. Freddie had once tried to explain to JJ that Cook was just a tit and he thought that it worked on girls. JJ nodded seriously, before pointing out that Cook had a 43% success rate with ‘tit’, while Freddie had a 28% success rate with ‘standing around’.
At the time Freddie had laughed and ruffled JJ’s hair, but he doesn’t find it so funny now. He isn’t really sure what is meant to happen after the first bit anyway. Katie had always spelt it out for him: ‘Take me out for dinner, babe. Be at mine for eight, yeah? Dress smart’. And that was that. Doesn’t know what to do with Effy though. Effy has always been different.
‘Fred-eee!’ Cook shouts across at him, ‘Top quality totty man, fucking A star’ as he pinches some blonde’s bum and she giggles back at him. ‘Don’t say I’m not good to you mate, Julie here has been hearing all about my main man and she is gagging to get to know you!’
Cook winks in his direction and licks his lips before reaching behind Julie’s shoulder to grab one of her friends.
‘Uh…look’ Freddie starts, shifting awkwardly. ‘I’m not really… y’know. I mean- I have a girlfriend.’ Freddie’s eyes turn back to Cook, laughing uproariously at something JJ is doing with some cards, his arm now draped over a different girl.
‘Not here tonight is she?’ Julie asks
‘No. Actually, I had better- well, you know.’ He shrugs, pushes past the queue of people forming at the cloakroom and slips into the toilets. He leans back against the wall, feels the vibration of the bass pumping through it, and wonders what the hell Cook is playing at.
‘Oi, Freds! What the fuck man?’ Cook has to shout right next to Freddie’s ear so he can hear him, ‘That was a guaranteed shag I just got for you.’
‘Cook, I’m with Effy.’
‘So what?’ Cook looks at him for a minute, before his eyes get a bit wider and a grin spreads across his face. ‘Fucking hell. You think she’s serious?’ He laughs and slaps Freddie on the shoulder, shaking his head. ‘Oh, mate.’
Freddie shrugs the hand off. ‘She loves me’
Cook’s face turns serious, ‘Yeah? Wake up Freddie. She loved me too. Fuck does love mean anyway?’
Freddie shakes his head furiously, ‘She loves me’
‘Ha. You pussy. Whatever. Threesome for me then, right?’ Cook laughs as he heads back into the club.
Freddie wonders what he has to do to convince anyone, to convince himself, that Effy loves him and that this is going to work.
---
He almost walks right into her when he leaves the club.
Cook’s face had twisted when he spotted her over Freddie’s shoulder and he had shot Freddie an odd look before telling JJ they were going back to his and dragging him off in the opposite direction from Freddie’s house. Freddie was quite glad to not have to deal with any more of Cook’s ‘everything’s back to normal’ shite so he just shrugged and turned straight into Effy.
She was leaning against the wall of the club, fag in hand, wearing one of those t-shirt dresses that made her all leg. And arse. All leg and arse, Freddie thinks, before wishing his trousers weren’t quite so tight. Effy cocks an eyebrow slightly.
She exhales smoke off to the side, drops the filter to the ground and stomps it out with the sole of her boot. ‘Hi.’
Freddie tries to compose himself; wishes he wasn’t quite so out of it. ‘Hey’
‘I was just -’
‘Yeah, cool.’
Freddie doesn’t want to know what she came to do, it’s enough that she’s there. He hazards a smile at her, ‘Coming, then?’
She nods and leads the way back to his. Freddie tries to keep up, tries to grab for her hand even, but doesn’t manage it, and instead sticks to following - which, he thinks, at least he has plenty practice of.
---
Freddie won’t think of what they do as making love. She won’t let him. It’s too desperate and too urgent. It’s just a fuck; all ‘more’ and ‘harder’ as she clutches at him, digging her nails into his back so hard that it hurts.
As soon as it’s over she gets up, slips her top over her head, wraps an arm around herself and lights up. Freddie wraps his arm around a pillow and tries to sleep.
---
After that night Cook seems to think that it’s all sorted then, mates for life and all that, so he arranges a night out with everyone the week before college goes back. It’s only Keith’s pub, but Cook has this idea that something big is going to happen, and maybe he’s right - the last time they all got together with alcohol his current girlfriend nearly killed his then girlfriend with a swift blow to the head; so yeah, something big could happen Freddie guesses.
Maybe things have changed since last year after all.
Pandora seems a bit less naïve when she shows up, late and without Thomas, which she says is a buggering long story and it’ll all be tickety boo anyway, so no one asks any more. JJ stutters a bit less, looks like he might be enjoying his evening instead of just putting up with them all for the sake of having friends. Cook is, well actually, he hasn’t changed at all, Freddie thinks. The biggest change is in Emily and Katie’s role reversal. Katie is sat at the end of the table, head bowed, cradling her double vodka and diet coke, refusing to make eye contact with him or Effy - but especially not Effy. Emily is sat next to her, grin plastered from ear to ear, craning her neck up to whisper things in Naomi’s ear (she says something that makes Naomi flush and giggle slightly before she realises where she is and then looks around, embarrassed. Nonetheless, she doesn’t remove her arm from round Emily’s waist).
Freddie must be drunk already, as he feels his stomach twist a bit at their sickly sweetness. He squeezes his hand on Effy’s thigh; feels it tense in response.
Her eyes turn to him, challenging, ‘What?’
‘Nothing. I just…’ he shrugs. His eyes trail off to see Emily rest her head on Naomi’s shoulder, giving a contented smile when Naomi kisses her on the top of her head.
Effy must have followed his gaze, as she looks slightly paler when he turns back round.
‘Me and Panda are going.’ She says flatly. Pandora’s head shoots up in surprise. ‘Alone.’ Effy adds when Freddie opens his mouth to protest.
‘We are? Oh right, yeah of course. Wait, Eff, where we going?’
Effy blinks and tells Pandora to get her coat.
‘You’ve pulled love!’ Cook supplies helpfully, to a round of groans.
---
When they’ve left - without so much as a backward glance at Freddie - Katie perks up a bit.
‘Thank fuck that slut’s gone, might get some decent talent around here now,’ she says, with a pointed look towards Freddie and Cook. ‘Not stupid, obsessive twats’ she adds, in a voice that Freddie is pretty sure Katie thinks is under her breath, but definitely isn’t.
Cook laughs heartily. ‘Want to know about my talent, Katie?’ He says, thrusting his hips towards her face.
‘Urg - get lost you tosser. No one wants to see that again.’ She pushes him back into his seat, slams her empty glass back on the table and stands. ‘I’m going to find some real men’, she smirks over her shoulder at Emily, who just rolls her eyes in a very Naomi-esque manner.
Freddie decides to do the right thing, so he gets up and follows her to the bar.
‘Katie, look, about Effy ’ he starts, but falters quickly when he sees Katie’s face cloud over and her eyes narrow.
‘I don’t know what you think you’re doing, babe, but don’t fucking bother, ok?’
‘I just, I wanted to say sorry, you know.’
Katie snorts, ‘You wanted that trampy bitch, and just cause you’ve changed your mind about girls with flat tits does not mean you get to come crawling back to me.’
‘No, that’s not it. Effy - she’s sorry.’
‘Like I give a shit about her. Whatever. Wonder if she thinks you were worth it.’ She pauses and looks him dead in the eye. ‘I wouldn’t get your hopes up, babe. Is she worth it? Fucking me over for? Is she everything you dreamed, then?’
Freddie doesn’t think Katie is actually looking for an answer, and it’s for the best really, as he doesn’t know what the hell to say to any of that.
‘You’re a joke. Both of you.’ She spits out, before turning smartly on her heels, leaving him standing alone.
---
The walk to Effy’s house should only take about thirty minutes, but Freddie’s ambling and its closer to fifty minutes after he left the pub before he’s ringing the bell. Anthea opens the door with a sigh.
‘Bit late for this isn’t it?’
‘I just need to speak to Effy. Can I come in?’
Anthea shakes her head but stands aside anyway, letting Freddie through. He makes his way up the stairs but pauses outside Effy’s room when he realises he’s not sure what he wants to say. He screws his eyes tight and tries to focus on what he needs to say. Doesn’t want to fuck things up twice in one night. He knocks and enters. She doesn’t even raise her head to acknowledge him from her place on the edge of the bed, but he presses on anyway.
‘Effy, can we talk?’ he calls from the doorway
That makes her glance up and she half snorts at him. Yeah, right, of course. Effy doesn’t do that.
‘You still picked me. On the boat, you know, after that stupid fucking race-’
‘Which you lost’ Effy interjects.
‘Wha - No. Cook hit me and…’ He shakes his head, ‘Look, it doesn’t matter yeah; you picked me. You picked me and I picked you.’
‘So?’
Freddie gathers all the dutch courage he can before he calls her out on all of this stuff she has going on; all of this elusive, mysterious bullshit.
‘Effy, who do you think you’re kidding?’
She freezes for a split second, before her eyes meet his again, this time with a hard stare.
‘Who are you kidding Freddie? Let’s not pretend anymore.’
Freddie doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about, and she must take pity on him or something, because Effy does something she hardly ever does and stops talking in bloody riddles.
‘You’re not very subtle, Freddie. I’m not enough for you.’
She only whispers it, but Freddie feels the words like a slap in the face. Wants to deny it, because it’s just not true. He can hear Katie’s voice running through his head and wishes it would just fuck off already because this is what he wants.
‘You could be, Eff.’ He feels like he’s pleading with her, feels everything slipping through his fingers. ‘You could.’
She shakes her head at him, just once and Freddie can actually feel his heart sinking in his chest, settling low in his gut.
‘So this is it then? You’re giving up?’ Hurt gives way to anger and frustration; the waste of the last year, messing up his relationship with Katie, messing up his friendship with JJ and Cook. Messing up everything with Cook.
‘Fucking hell, Effy!’ He shakes his head at her, curling his lip unattractively, and leaves.
---
This time, when he looks up at her window and she looks down at him, he thinks it shouldn’t be as bad as the last time. That at least this time Cook wasn’t there to letch over her. It’s not though, it’s worse. Because back then someone felt like they were winning.
---
Once he’s stopped wiping at his eyes with the cuff of his hoodie he calls Cook.
‘She’s…’ and then trails off, because the problem was that Freddie never knew what Effy was.
‘Fuck her then, that bitch’ comes Cook’s response, just like Freddie knew it would be.
‘Yeah,’ he agrees, ‘yeah, fuck her.’
‘Shed, then?’
‘Yeah, shed.’