On Knots and Unravelling
For author's notes and thank yous, see chapter one.
At college the following day, Cook slumps next to her in the sofa just after assembly and grins, before waggling his eyebrows.
‘Do you reckon they have, maybe, synchronised orgasms? With the whole twin thing? Cos, we could like, start keeping a log, in the name of science, I thought?’
Naomi snorts and shuffles away, despite the smile she can’t hide. He pats her on the knee twice, and stands again, leaning over to murmur in her ear.
‘She’s still, like, pissed at you. But... dunno, I reckon you could figure something out, now.’
When he straightens, Naomi’s eye is drawn to the area of the common room where Katie’s sitting, definitely not looking at her, with a slight frown on her face. She looks oddly lonely, and Naomi’s relieved when Cook smiles briefly and saunters towards her.
--
A different type of plan, then.
The problem is fairly straight-forward, Naomi decides. She had, essentially, stopped being Katie’s friend, while all the Emily mayhem was taking place. So, she now needed to prove that being fucked by Emily was not mutually exclusive to her and Katie titting around.
Maybe not that phrasing, though.
Naomi refrains from calling the whole exercise ‘Operation Twat’, and begins.
--
On the first day, she sticks a Post-it on Katie’s locker, and then busies herself with her own.
After waiting approximately a million years, and re-organising everything at least four times, she hears the murmured ‘what the fuck’ and flicks her locker closed. Katie glared at her.
‘You know I recognise your handwriting, yes? So writing ‘Katie smells’ is both rude and retarded.’
Naomi grins, and removes the post-it from Katie’s fingers,.
‘I was going to plant a another one, inside the locker, but I couldn’t jimmy the lock. Here...’
Naomi quickly sticks it to Katie’s forehead, and then has to bite her lip to avoid laughing, because Katie’s gone very still, and is glaring at her, as if Naomi’s just assaulted her. After a moment Naomi leans forward, mock-serious.
‘That one says ‘lovely’, for the record.’
Katie takes a moment to peel it off, and then stares at it, turning it slowly over in her fingers. Naomi shrugs, and takes a step to one side, in order to go for a casual lean on the lockers.
‘See, not so rude.’
Katie blinks twice at her, before screwing the scrap of paper into a ball and flicking it at her.
‘No. But still fairly epically retarded.’
Naomi keeps her lips pressed together as Katie stalks away, and then laughs. She reaches down, and smoothes out the discarded post-it, before pressing it hard to Katie’s locker door.
--
The following day, in the sunshine, Naomi cycles over to Katie’s house for the first time in a while. Emily gives her a frantic little look of are you insane, which Naomi dismisses with a wave of her hand, as she marches on into the Fitch kitchen.
Katie’s in there, yelling at her younger brother, and they’re apparently engaged in a battle to the death over what flavour bag of crisps James gets to take to school. Naomi pauses in the doorway, and grins.
‘Ah, there’s my favourite tiny pervert. All right James, felt any boobs lately?’
James freezes entirely, and stares at her (well, her tits) for a moment. Katie kicks him once more, and he runs, ducking his head as he squeezes past Naomi. Katie frowns at her, before turning back to the kitchen counter and clattering around with some Tupperware boxes with surprising force. She gestures over her shoulder vaguely.
‘Um, my kitchen, yeah? Fuck off.’
Naomi laughs, and roots around in her bag.
‘Oh, I know, don’t worry, I’m aware I have the plague. It’s just that Mum was making some banana bread last night, and I asked her to bake a spare, for you.’ She places the tinfoil wrapped package on the breakfast counter, and takes a step backwards.
‘There. I thought you might be missing it, it’s your favourite.’
Katie turns slowly on the spot, and stares at Naomi like she’s grown an extra head. Naomi shrugs.
‘Mum says hi, by the way.’
Katie nods once, still looking confused. ‘Right.’
Naomi presses on. ‘I say hi too?’
Katie’s face wobbles once, before she recovers and glares some more. Naomi bites the inside of her cheek, and waves, once.
‘See you in college then.’
She’s grinning from ear to ear the second her back is turned, and here’s the other Fitch twin, briefly questioning her sanity. Emily frowns at her.
‘James just asked me what bra size I thought you were.’
Naomi smirks, and presses a quick kiss to her lips. ‘I hope you said the perfect size for you to handle.’
She has to step back quickly to avoid the swat to her head Emily tries to deliver, and laughs. She blows a kiss at Emily, bows once in the direction of Katie, who’s appeared at the front door, and sets off for college alone.
Half way there she has to pause, and try and get a grip on her grin, lest she gets pulled over cycling whilst under the influence or something.
--
A couple of days later, in English, the teacher asks her whether she’d like to share with the class her findings on the class divide within D. H. Lawrence’s Sons and Lovers. Naomi’s not got a fucking clue, having been so blinded by the blatant sexism of the author that she’d refused to read past chapter eight. She thinks about blagging it, but instead rolls her eyes, and glances once in Katie’s direction.
‘I would, but seeing as it is the most tedious book ever written, I think we’d all pass out with boredom part way through. I could tell you all about the incest though, Freud would have a bloody field day.’
The teacher has a complete sense of humour failure, and she gets a detention, which is so hilariously old school she can’t help but laugh.
When she tries to catch Katie’s eye, as the rest of the class shuffle out at the end, Katie definitely doesn’t look at her, but definitely does have a grin on her face.
--
Two days after she’s served her detention, she overtakes Cook and Katie on her bike, as they leave college. Naomi yells Katie’s name, and then waves once.
‘Have a good weekend, lovers!’
Thirty seconds later, she hears someone running behind her and swearing loudly. When she rolls to a halt Cook pounds to a standstill next to her, and sucks in a couple of lungfuls of air. As he straightens he points at her, grinning.
‘She just called you a ‘relentless, fucking twat.’’
Naomi ponders for a second, and glances at the sky. ‘Tell me,’ she asks, grinning facetiously, ‘is that better or worse than being a ‘selfish fucking bitch.’’
Cook laughs, and reaches a hand to the back of Naomi’s neck, squeezing affectionately once.
‘In the fucking bag, Naomi-kins.’
‘Cook, she’s been ignoring me for the past month, I don’t think...’
He backs away, shaking his head. Each word he punctuates with a jab of a finger.
‘In the fucking bag.’
--
It’s getting close to the first batch of exams, but it still looks peculiar, finding Katie revising in the library. The second time it happens, Naomi immediately cancels her scheduled trip to the Politics lesson, and instead plonks herself at Katie’s table, dragging out a Philosophy textbook and a pad of paper, for the show of things.
Katie looks up at her once, but doesn’t acknowledge her beyond that, and when the break bell goes an hour later, she gathers her stuff together without a word and heads for the exit.
Naomi finishes her mindmap of Christian views on the origins of the conscience distractedly, wondering when this started feeling like something achievable.
--
The following week, at the same time, Naomi’s come prepared.
Katie eyes the mug as if it is about to explode, and taps it once with the end of her pen.
‘What’s this?’
‘Fruit tea’ Naomi replies promptly ‘Cranberry and elderflower.’
Katie looks blankly at her until Naomi elaborates, ‘I brought the mug from home. And a flask of hot water.’
Katie takes a cautious sip, and then winces.
‘Too hot.’
Naomi rolls her eyes, and flaps a sardonic hand over the top of the mug.
‘Better?’
Katie says nothing, and goes back to her notes with a sigh. Naomi gets out her work, and leafs through the textbook to find a quote that’d be appropriate for her essay on Marx, before settling down to work.
Eventually, Katie clears her throat.
‘So, what, you’re my Sophia, now?’
Naomi clicks her pen on and off twice and glances up at Katie. ‘Well, I’m significantly cooler, but, in a manner of speaking. Though, I don’t want to jump your bones.’
Katie frowns for a moment, and returns to her work. A thought pops into Naomi’s head a second later, and she risks it.
‘Not your bones, anyway.’
Katie goes very still, and Naomi briefly panics she’s pushed it too far. But all Katie does is murmur ‘ugh’, and crosses out part of her notes with sudden force. She takes a sip of tea, a moment after, and it is a more acceptable temperature, now.
They finish the session in silence.
--
The next day, there’s a Post-it, on her locker. It reads ‘Twat’, in familiar hand-writing.
Naomi laughs, and then laughs some more, before peeling it off and folding it in half carefully.
She finds Emily sitting with Effy and Pandora, and sits next to her for the first time ever. Emily frowns questioningly at her, and Naomi hands over the slip of paper as an answer. Emily glances at it once, and then unfolds it.
‘What’s this?’
Naomi grins, and glances over to where Katie’s sitting with Cook and JJ, laughing about something. She squeezes Emily’s knee.
‘Progress.’
--
On the steps outside college, Emily catches up with her.
‘Hey, wait.’
Naomi’s half on her bike, all ready to set off, but stills for a moment, grins at the approaching girl.
‘What’s this, two conversations with me in one day? We are getting bold.’
Emily re-adjusts her bag, and looks around. ‘Katie said her and Cook were off doing something tonight.’
The sun is almost too warm today, and Naomi pushes her hair out of her eyes, the cycle back looking less and less appealing.
‘Oh, that must be nice, knowing the timetable of your sister’s sex life.’
‘Shush, concentrate. She also said, ‘Maybe you should see if Naomi’s free, tonight.’’
Naomi snorts, and rolls her eyes. ‘Right, cos my diary is just chocka, at the moment’
Emily frowns, and looks like explaining the point in more detail, so Naomi jumps off her bike, and chains it back up, before taking Emily’s hand.
‘I get it, Emily. That’s good. Come on, we’ll walk back to mine.’
--
Emily doesn’t like banana bread, but does approve heartily of her mum’s ginger flapjack. It’s another detail.
Naomi’s feeling so good about things she deliberately loiters downstairs with Emily, rather than scooting her up to her room. After the second cup of tea, Emily seems to notice, and crosses the kitchen to come sit on Naomi’s lap, before spinning so as to be astride her. There’s a question in her eyes that sets certain parts of Naomi on fire, but she grins and acts supremely uninterested, reaching around Emily’s back for her mug. Emily tuts, and leans closer, pressing her mouth to where Naomi’s collar bone meets her shirt.
‘Nae. Why aren’t we upstairs?’
‘Cos, you know. I thought you could meet my mum.’
Emily leans back, and her eyebrows flicker.
‘I have, though?’
‘Yeah, but maybe this time you can meet without you being pissed off at me?’
Emily bites her lip slightly, and leans into Naomi’s neck again. She flickers her tongue over Naomi’s pulse point, and rolls her hips forward slightly, and god, Naomi’s having a hard time not cancelling this whole plan and bloody well carrying her upstairs. Emily doesn’t help by moving up to her ear, and murmuring into it, breath hot on her skin.
‘Maybe, I could meet her, after?’
Naomi is damned if she is going to let Emily win this, but when Emily leans back again with parted lips, Naomi concedes there’s probably a little room for compromise, here, and kisses Emily hard, while sliding a hand around her waist.
It’s an increasingly frantic five minutes, and the kitchen chair is clearly made of sturdy stuff, because Emily is pressing forward in something approaching a rhythm now, as Naomi’s hands fumble underneath her top.
It’s going marvellously well, really, until the kitchen door opens and Gina breezes past, shopping bag in each hand, chatting inanely while Emily springs off Naomi like she’s been electrocuted.
‘S’cuse me girls, I just need to check our all-bran levels for the bake sale, pretend I’m not here.’
Right, Naomi thinks. Chance would be a fine thing.
--
Naomi persuades her mum to sit down, and share some flapjack with them, mainly because it’s amusing to watch Emily try to make small talk now Naomi knows what state her knickers are in. Her mum seems utterly unfazed by finding them well on the way in the kitchen, and Naomi feels a small pang of love, when she contrasts it with how any other parent might have reacted.
Eventually, Gina slides her mug away and addresses Naomi for the first time.
‘So. Are you doing this with or without Katie’s blessing?’
Naomi thinks of the folded up post-it, and worries at her lip for a moment, cautious.
‘Well, she knows where Emily is, and hasn’t, like, called the police, or anything. And she’s tolerating my presence, being around me, a bit more, gradually. I don’t fear for my life so much. Also, she called me a twat, today, so...’
Gina nods understandingly, ‘That’s good dear.’
Naomi smirks once, and presses a finger to her plate, collecting stray crumbs.
‘So, hopefully, with a bit of time, things will be back to how they were.’
Emily catches her eye at that, and they both end up grinning at each other, probably looking like total morons. Gina chuckles once, and stands to clear the table.
‘Hopefully, darling. Though, if you don’t mind me saying, Katie might need more than ‘a bit of time’. From what I know of her, and obviously you two know her far better, but from what I know, she’s too good-willed to stand in the way of happiness, but it might be a bit more of a challenge to get her to actively participate.’
Naomi shrugs, and stands, because she’s got somewhere else she urgently needs to be, and Emily’s on her feet a fraction of a second later, reading her mind.
‘We’ll see Mum. Umm, me and Em are going to go upstairs now. Revision, you know.’
Gina laughs again, and shoos them out of the kitchen with a tea towel.
‘Right you are dear. ‘Revision.’ Off you pop, then.’
--
Afterwards, Emily grabs Naomi’s hand, and takes each finger into her mouth, tonguing them clean, until Naomi’s burning, all over again.
‘Your mum’s nice.’
Naomi nods once and pulls Emily a bit closer to her, shifting so their legs are interlocked. Emily’s mouth quirks for a second, and she continues.
‘Think she’s right, about Katie?’
Naomi rolls her eyes, and presses up onto her elbows, trapping Emily beneath her.
‘Dunno, Em. Let’s think about it later, shall we?’
--
It’s really bloody annoying when her mum is right, Naomi decides.
She sits with Emily most days now, and Katie continues to sit with Cook on the opposite side of the common room, and there’s a final piece of the puzzle that Naomi can’t figure out, because this still isn’t right.
Katie doesn’t blank her, doesn’t ignore her, but is so icily polite Naomi finds herself missing the days of when Katie would mutter bitch, every time she walked in the room.
Now, Katie asks her whether she minds if Katie borrows the spare chair next to her in English, and the entire fucking thing is so farcical Naomi almost refuses, just to see what she’d do.
She doesn’t though, just watches in an increasing grump as Katie sits with some boring fuckers in the class whom they’ve never exchanged more than four words with, and this is bloody ridiculous.
So Katie sits with Cook, and chats happily to JJ and Freddie, nods vigorously at whatever treatise of barmy Panda’s spouting on about, even exchanges small talk with Effy, but all of Naomi’s efforts seem to have resulted in this polite stand off, which makes her increasingly angry every time she thinks about it, which, after a month of near unending politeness, is all the fucking time.
For fuck’s sake.
--
She asks Effy about it, one lunch time when Katie and Emily are in an extra History revision session. They head outside to lie on the grass in the quad, and the sun makes it a pleasant way to pass an hour, even if Effy doesn’t seem to be aware of the concept of a summer wardrobe, and looks more ready to attend a rave for chimney sweeps than a picnic.
‘It’s great, you know, being with Emily. I just wish I could speak to Katie, without her pulling a Lady of the Manor impression.’
Effy sits up, and stares at her, before tugging out a daisy from the ground, and flicking it at her.
‘What are you on about?’
Naomi grumbles unhappily, affronted that Effy didn’t grasp her meaning instantly.
‘Polite, I mean, she’s really polite to me all the time.’
Effy shrugs, and lies back down again, answering flatly.
‘Right. What a bitch. Being polite. How dare she.’
Naomi pokes her in the side admonishingly, and grumbles some more.
‘Shush, you. I know what I mean. She’s far more normal when she’s being rude about my clothes, or my face, or something. That way I can get on with calling her a moron again.’
Effy hums briefly, and then rolls on her side. Naomi tracks what she’s looking at, and finds Sophia approaching from a distance, drifting along the horizon. Naomi snorts, and thinks about moaning, but Effy anticipates it and pokes her back in kind.
‘Don’t.’
Naomi frowns, momentarily perplexed, until she remembers, and grins.
‘Right. I forgot you were her mentor.’
That earns her another dig in the ribs, and then Sophia settles next to them, crossing her legs and reaching into her bag.
‘Hey, both. Smoke?’
Effy sits up instantly, and shuffles closer to Sophia, murmuring a quiet ‘thanks’. Naomi waves a hand in dismissal with a smile, and lies back on the grass again. The time passes slowly, and Naomi finds herself thinking about the history session, and wondering whether Katie and Emily sit next to each other, or as far away as possible. Eventually Effy turns, and blows a stream of smoke in her face, which Naomi flaps away, irritated.
‘Do you miss her then?’
Naomi pauses for a second, and Sophia butts in.
‘Who?’
‘Katie.’ Naomi rolls over onto her front and props herself up on her elbows. ‘We were like, best mates, but since me and Emily... well, she’s now treating me like a vague acquaintance.’
Sophia nods once, and then scoops up the broken daisy Effy threw earlier, and inspects it minutely.
‘Must be bad, then, what you did.’
Naomi closes her eyes briefly, but decides not to be a dick, and nods, once.
‘Yes, it was.’
Sophia hums, and then starts plucking the daisy petals off distractedly.
‘If you miss her, she must be missing you. It’s logical, like an algebra equation.’
Naomi stares at Sophia, before glancing at Effy, who smiles once and shrugs. Naomi coughs.
‘Right, well, maybe. But I’ve been trying to like, build bridges, or whatever, but she’s having none of it.’
The bell rings, in the distance, and Sophia tugs off the final petals, smiling quietly to herself.
‘Maybe I should be her best friend for a while. You know, for the contrast.’
And that’s almost, almost, a good idea, as reluctant as she is to admit it. Sophia must read it on her face, because she grins once at Naomi, and stands, brushing herself off.
‘All right then. I’ll go find her.’
Naomi sits up abruptly, but doesn’t say anything, and Sophia’s already gone. Effy arches a brow at Naomi, before handing the remains of the cigarette over. As Naomi watches, Effy turns back to watch Sophia, and her eyes narrow.
‘Guile,’ she breathes, wreathing smoke as she exhales, ‘she has guile.’
Naomi stands, and holds out a hand to pull Effy up, but she doesn’t move, stays focused on the disappearing Sophia.
‘I like that.’
--
It turns out Sophia might be a bloody genius.
She attaches herself to Katie like a limpet, and doesn’t let up for three days straight, to Katie’s increasing bafflement. For the first afternoon, Naomi can tell she’s trying to be polite, but Sophia’s so persistent with her small talk that cracks start appearing fast.
On the third morning Cook catches her by the vending machine, and presses entirely the wrong number on the display by way of hello. Her £1.50 buys her a bottle of fucking Lilt, of all things.
‘Oi!’
‘Oi, yourself. Don’t suppose you know what’s gotten into lesbian number three, do you? She’s not, like, putting the moves on my girl, is she?’
Naomi snorts at the very suggestion, and reaches in to collect the unwelcome bottle, handing it over to Cook ungraciously, who grins.
‘No, Cook, though I kind of wish that was true, they’d be a perfect match. Listen...’
As she explains, Cook’s eyes narrow, until he’s positively frowning by the time she finishes.
‘That fighting fair, though? Really?’
She’s oddly affronted by his attitude, and hitches her bag higher up her shoulder, ready to leave.
‘Christ, its just a bit of a joke, though. Besides, it’s only Sophia, I haven’t unleashed napalm, for god’s sake.’
Cook’s still frowning dubiously at her, and Naomi loses patience, walks away with a wave of her hand.
‘Whatever.’
In the common room she passes Katie on the sofa, and has to repress a snort when she sees Sophia right next to her, folding a piece of paper so it flexes oddly.
Naomi alters course slightly, walks by close enough to hear Sophia ask, entirely out of the blue, ‘Art. Do you like art, Katie?’
Naomi can feel her ribs creaking slightly, with the effort not to laugh.
--
At lunch time she finds Emily, and grabs her hand without speaking, doesn’t really say anything until they’re round the back of the gym, and Emily’s laughing at the entire situation.
‘Oh, really, Naomi? Snogging behind the gym? How fucking romantic.’
Naomi shrugs, and she could fly right now, she’s that delighted with life.
‘What, sometimes I like clichés, okay?’
Emily snorts and reaches for her again, until Naomi’s breath hitches and she has to concentrate very hard on not moaning into Emily’s mouth.
There’s an abrupt cough, a couple of metres way, and Naomi flings herself backwards so quickly she’s surprised she doesn’t get burnt from air friction. Katie’s standing there, with her arms folded, glaring between them both.
‘Christ, what are we, thirteen? Bike sheds too busy, Naomi?’
Naomi grins slightly, and has to make a really big effort to keep control of her face.
‘Yes, bit of a backlog, you know...’
Katie doesn’t say anything, just frowns some more, until Naomi finds herself making retarded conversation, again.
‘How’s Sophia?’
Naomi can tell that Katie just gritted her teeth really hard, and the words sound odd, when they emerge, as though each one is being kept on a tight leash of emotion.
‘Probably thinks I’m a cunt, seeing as I just had to tell her to fuck off out of my space. Jesus, Naomi, what the hell, why did you have her following me around twenty four seven?’
Emily looks at Naomi too with this question, and the answer doesn’t sound so smart, now that it emerges into fresh air.
‘Dunno, thought seeing as you decided you hated me forever, you’d be wanting to try a new best friend.’
Katie goes very still, and takes a deep breath through her nostrils, and her voice is wobbling now, when she speaks, and Naomi suddenly feels a total shit.
‘Right. Ha fucking ha. Take the piss out of me, too. Like, whatever, Emily’s the only thing you care about anymore, fine. But don’t fucking mock me, on top of abandoning me.’
Naomi snorts, and waves a frustrated hand in Katie’s direction.
‘I didn’t fucking abandon you; you’ve been completely ignoring me for the last couple of months, and I hate it, and you don’t seem to give two shits.’
Katie shakes her head once, before pressing the heel of her palm into the space just between her eyebrows.
‘Oh fucking, fuckssake, Naomi. I’m fucking...lonely, and whatever, and your solution is to deploy Sophia on me, like that’ll fix anything, while you use her as a distraction to get off with Emily, but this is still all my fault, is it?’
Naomi opens her mouth to refute it all, but ends up with ‘I gave you a cup of tea, didn’t I?’ Katie looks at her like she’s deranged.
‘Oh yeah, sorry, I didn’t realise that cup of tea was your heartfelt apology, excuse me for getting confused. Fucking hell.’
Naomi blinks, and then realises something Katie said earlier, and hopes for a distraction.
‘What do you mean, you’re lonely? You’ve got Cook...’
Katie takes a step forward, and the lisp is back now, because she’s raised her voice again, squashing down the tears.
‘I miss you, you complete fucking dickhead! Not that you’ve even pissing noticed, being too busy fucking Emily or feeling sorry for yourself, you selfish cunt!’
That’s a lot of insults in one breath, and Naomi doesn’t really know how to start addressing them without exploding into a mess of tears and rage. Katie gives her a second, and then turns sharply on her heel.
‘Fine, I’ll be fucking off then.’
Naomi watches her leave for a moment, before taking a couple of paces after her.
‘I fucking miss you too, you stubborn bitch!’
She realises she’s just yelled, and isn’t surprised when Katie ignores her entirely. Her legs give, and she sits heavily on the grass, and when the frustration turns to tears, she doesn’t even bother trying to prevent the sobs.
After a while, Emily approaches and crouches briefly, touching her knee.
‘That went well, then.’
Naomi raises her head, and waves a hand.
‘Too right. Fuck, I’m such a cock. Em, can you go check she’s ok, she sounded really upset...’
Emily squeezes her knee, before standing.
‘All right. You not coming?’
Naomi thinks about it for a second, but decides against it, as it isn’t quite time yet. She tries for a smile, and aims it in Emily’s direction.
‘I’ll catch you up.’
As Emily leaves, Naomi finds herself making a promise, about friendship and honesty, and bloody well recognising fuck ups rather than just waiting for them to go away.
The weekend. She’ll do it at the weekend.
Chapter Fourteen