Twelve.

The house on the corner was dark, quiet so unlike it had been lately. Loud music, laughter, the smell of smoke and alcohol permeating the air. Night had a short time ago; a lone light in an upstairs window gave life to the street. The bathroom in the upstairs hall was lit, filled with steam from the shower. Water ran down her upturned face, washing away the remnants of soap on her body. She turned the water off and stepped onto the cold tile. Wrapping a towel around her body, she wiped away the condensation accumulated on the mirror. Naomi Campbell looked just how she felt, complete shit. Her bright blue eyes were sad; permanently reddened it seemed from crying. She watched her reflection for a moment then left the bathroom, padding down the hallway to her room, their room.

Naomi sighed, breathing in Emily's scent, still clinging to the room even though she hadn't slept in their bed for months now. Emily's bags lay packed at the foot of the bed, her clothes neatly folded on top. Naomi settled on the edge of the bed, her blonde hair drying in wavy clumps. She looked at the bags, felt loneliness creeping through her body. She wished she could go back, change how she'd been to Emily, that she'd never laid eyes on Sophia.

"Fuck," Naomi murmured, putting her head in her hands.

She'd told Emily to move out, there was nothing left to fight for. Naomi deserved punishment, but not when it cost Emily the person she was. What had happened at the barbecue was not Emily, and she didn't feel much like Naomi anymore. There were falling apart and there wasn't anything to stop it. Naomi laid back on the bed, Emily's scent surrounding her as she stared at the ceiling. She remembered the first time she had ever laid eyes on Emily Fitch.

Dismissed for the day, Naomi made her way towards the front of the school, where no doubt her mother would be waiting. Weaving between the other kids in her form Naomi kept moving for the door, her blonde ponytail swinging as she walked. She was just ahead of Naomi, partially hidden behind a group of boys who eyed Naomi as she passed. Her dark hair pulled into a braid down her back. Her bag pulled over one shoulder as she stood behind another girl with an identical dark braid, talking animatedly to a group of girls. Naomi stopped in the middle of the hall, for what reason she didn't know and watched the girl.

She remained quiet, leaning against a locker looking at nothing in particular. The girl looked up, her brown eyes meeting Naomi's for a moment, then lowered her head once more. Naomi stilled, unable to move her feet. The children around them began moving towards the door, flooding the hallway in between Naomi and the girl. Naomi was forced to move with the crowd, losing sight of the other girl.

As she reached the door, the fall sunshine leaking in through the glass she heard a voice behind her, "C'mon Emily, stop milling about!"

Naomi turned back, watching as Emily fell into step beside her twin. They reached her quickly enough, Emily raising her face to give Naomi a small smile as she passed. Naomi stood there by the door a few minutes, her heart pounding against her ribs.

"Emily," she murmured rolling the name about her tongue for the first time.

Naomi smiled at the memory, shaking her head at her pre-adolescent stupidity. Naomi's smile faltered immediately the sad, forlorn mask she'd worn the past months settling back into place. Disentangling herself from the damp towel still clinging to her now dry body, she tossed it to the floor. Rolling onto her side, Naomi curled up to Emily's pillow imagining Emily in her arms, beneath her. Desire coursed through her body at the thought, tightening her lower abdomen. Tears leaked down Naomi's cheeks, staining the pillow she held so tightly. Naomi's mind turned from her sadness back into her past, reliving the first time she'd spoken to Emily the year they'd turned sixteen.

By middle school Naomi was known as the "ice queen." So unlike other girls Naomi's sarcastic, no bullshit demeanor intimidated her fellow classmates, boys and girls alike. To boys, she seemed unapproachable, to girls simply a bitch. Naomi partied, had sex with boys just like everyone else but always remained set apart as if she was an island just off the mainland.

Naomi settled into her seat in History, thankfully her last class of the day. As usual no words were spoken to her, simply whispers around her. Naomi smirked when she happened to catch a pair of eyes staring at her. They treated her like she carried a virus, sarcastic bitch syndrome it seemed. She pulled a book from her bag and began to read.

A gaggle of girls paraded into the room, Naomi unconsciously rolled her eyes setting the book aside. Crossing her arms, she stared stonily ahead attempting to tune out the murmur of voices around her. She saw a flash of red hair in the group, her eyes glancing over. Fucking Katie, she thought watching the dominant Fitch twin be fussed over by boys and girls alike in the corner. Naomi sighed, closing her eyes, wherever Katie was, Emily wouldn't be too far behind.

Emily dashed through the door as the bell rang, her cheeks scarlet, her chest heaving. Naomi's heart involuntarily stuttered, she masked her inner pleasure with her usual look of boredom, watching Emily out of the corner of her eye.

Emily was quiet, reserved beside her sister's fierce need for attention. Where Katie's outfits toed the line of inappropriate for public, Emily preferred a more studious casual look. Naomi had always felt that Emily spoke with her eyes. Those amber brown eyes seemed to hold the secrets of the world.

Naomi sighed softly, "Shit."

"Fitch, care to take a seat?" called Mr. Fitzgerald, tapping his foot hands on his round hips.

Emily ignored him, her eyes were burning a hole through her sister. Katie smiled at her, her heels propped on the seat beside her, shaking her head slightly.

"Fitch," Fitz repeated.

Emily ignored him again making her way through the cluster of tables, setting her books beside Naomi's. Fear chilled Naomi's bones, her eyes widening as Emily sat down beside her. Rigid in her seat she opened her notes and anxiously waited for Fitz to begin. Emily began doodling in a notebook her short red hair tucked behind her ears.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Naomi thought finding herself watching Emily out of the corner of her eye. Emily felt her gaze, shyly turning her head. Brown met blue for an instant before Naomi dropped her gaze, her face growing cold. Say something prat, her mind chided.

Emily's eyes roamed over the girl beside her, from her black trainers to her multi-colored stockings, green overalls and t-shirt. Katie laughed across the room, Emily's gaze snapped back to her paper. Naomi's mood soured as fear took over, stealing the feelings Emily always stirred.

"Sorry you've got to sit here, queen of ice and all," Naomi snapped, feeling hollow inside.

Taken aback, Emily looked up once more. Naomi's blue eyes were aflame, defiantly staring back at her. Emily knew better than to take this personally, Naomi was this way with everyone. She didn't think Naomi a queen of ice in the slightest.

"I'm not sorry," Emily murmured in response, "ignore these tossers, you're not made of ice Naomi."

"I don't give a fuck," Naomi replied scornfully, underneath utterly astounded.

Emily nodded, ending their conversation as Fitz carried on up front. Naomi had cared, hated the lies people had spouted about her, the way they had all judged her. Mind you, she hadn't given anyone a chance to see anything else, she couldn't afford it. Katie had allowed Emily her seat back the next day, and they shared no further words.

xxxx