Title: Under the Bed
Author: unconditional_w
Pairing: Katie/Cook/Effy, Naomi/Emily
Rating: R for Language
Summary: Oh hai sequel to Into the Corner. Gen 2 post series 4.
Something I wasn't sure of
but I was in the middle of.
- This is the Last Time by Keane
So this is a sequel to Into the Corner..net/s/7213168/1/Into_the_Corner
If you haven't read it I recommend you do.
Freddie Mcclair has the saddest fucking eyes. Christ, the boy looks like he's just stepped out of a warzone, complete with raggedy clothes and exhausted eyes. She ignores Coop-Cod-Cake, whatever the fuck his name was, literally shouting at the top of his lungs from the rooftops with the geek JJ and chases after him. She can't explain why. But the way he's just slumping around, the way he walks with such an air of disappointment and disapproval speaks her for some reason. He's also easy on the eyes, and not completely fashion deprived. That'll be the day: when Freddie Mcclair loses his fashion sense, all Hell will break loose.
"Freddie!" she calls out to him.
He turns and smiles. "Katie, right?" It begins slowly, with some tongue-in-cheek remarks about Cook (that's his name) and his arse, about Naomi and her mouth, about Emily of all people. He walks her to class and drops her off with another silly grin and she thinks yeah. Yeah this'll do.
It becomes a bit of a habit, really, the walking to classes, and really it's pretty sweet to have a man on hand so quickly after Danny. He does this cute leaning thing where he lowers himself completely to whisper something in a crowded hallway. And whether it's sweet or not, all the girls look on in envy so one afternoon, she grabs him by his bag strap and kisses him hard.
Later in the week he calls her up and shows her his shed. It's a sad shack, really, and nearly empty due to his bitch sister and something about cleaning it out to be her gym. It's all striking too close to home, the bitch relative coming into your personal space for their own athletic intent, and Katie puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Erm, hello? Care to knock next time?" Karen says when she pushes the door open on them on the couch.
"It's my shed."
"You have a room."
Freddie flicks her forehead with his fingers as they go out and Katie laughs. He laces his hand around hers as he leads her upstairs to his room. Yeah, she thinks. Yeah this'll definitely do.
August 25 and after several angry phone calls bordering on maniacal, Katie's finally enrolled at U of Bristol. It's better than staying home, or worse; actually co-working with her mother again on the gardening plan she's now concocted. It's actually like, not that hard. You know. School.
When you don't have to worry about your idiot twin sister prancing about with daftlesbian tendencies, and your boyfriend isn't a greasy fuck or in love with someone else, and the girl you thought was your best friend is actually your best friend and not smashing your head in with a rock; school isn't that hard.
Most nights are spent doing homework by Effy's bed or reading her to sleep. The material's dull enough, really. And the house is scary quiet. Some nights she wakes up to some rustling downstairs and stops herself from throwing keys down to an absent-minded Emily who isn't there. Emily's never there anymore. Even the kitchen misses her, with its blinds that only now open if Katie actively does so, and the coffee is never quite as toasty and she doesn't make French toast on the weekends.
And the flowers are dying. Fucking dying. They've stopped wilting and they're just giving up now.
Sometimes she misses Naomi, and her fucking big mouth, and her obnoxious singing in the shower, and her disgusting garibaldis, and her eco-friendly soaps in the bathroom and fair trade chocolate and the way she'd make Emily laugh even on her worst days.
It's probably nine thirty at night when they decide it's time to leave the club and take Effy back. She's been allowed one night out a week, something she takes full advantage of the moment she's out. "Let's go out for a drink," Effy said casually the moment they walked out, and the idea sounded pretty counter-productive, but something in Katie tickled when she looked into the shorter girl's eyes. 'What the fuck anyway. It's what she wants.' In any case, Effy's been feeling more energetic than usual and Katie's taken full advantage of it, unknowing of when this exciting burst of energy will end, and a rude dose of reality will kick in again.
They always end up going to the club around the corner, which doesn't have the best music, or the hottest blokes, but enough to shake and turn heads respectively. It's loud and pumping a fire-red energy Katie can only describe as 'Emily' when Effy finally loosens up after a few cheap tequila shots. "Dance with me," she says dreamily, pulling Katie into the crowd, and for a moment, Katie's solely pulled in by the brunette's eyes; hazy and seductively full of promise. They dance together amongst heated bodies, pressing and pulling. It's all a bit ridiculous, but Effy sashays her waist and tosses her head just so, it's enough to let Katie relax.
They celebrate Katie's successful midterms in early October with some more drinks, although Effy stops at her buzz. They dance and dance and wait for blokes to approach them, because they always do, because Effy flirts with her eyes and Katie flirts with her entire body, and both do so so passively. Oh hello there it's about time you showed up, you've been watching me for the past hour. They're blowing off the fifth one of the night when Katie says she's thirsty.
"Refreshments coming up," Effy says and moves herself out of the dancing crowd to a pack of blokes standing around, also been eying her for a while. A few unheard exchanged words and Effy's walking over to the bar with them, winking at Katie with a 'perfection' hand gesture.
Katie shakes her head in amusement. Leave it to Effy Stonem. Always the alluring one. To be honest, Katie would've jumped off a cliff for her in their first semester if it meant getting some one-on-one time with the girl. Although she'd never admit to that. Instead she closes her eyes once more and sways to the music, hard and fast, thumping against her chest and making the sweat just pour straight out against her cleavage. The room is smoky and strobe-lit, the images and figures around her just moving faster and faster, falling against one another and blending into one large portrait-
she catches a green polo in the crowd.
She doesn't know how she manages to catch anything with the air so thick and the music so loud it fucks your head up even without alcohol but somewhere, sometime between the beat and the heat, she catches sight of a green polo in the crowd and a familiar cheshire grin. A sight that grabs at something inside her, pulling and pulling her every which way she decides she doesn't like at all. But taken in by it, she shoves the arse dancing against her and makes her way towards the direction, she thinks it's this direction, of the figure. The music picks up and the losers around her dance faster and faster, twisting and turning, pushing and falling against her she nearly loses her balance a good four times. She's lost track of the polo but she continues to wade against the crowd, desperate to see the shade, maybe the grin, desperate for something, something—Effy smashes up against her with schnapps she pushes into her hands, clinks with her own glass and downs in a second.
"You're distracted," Effy says simply.
"I thought I-"
"Drink."
She does. Effy leads her back to the dance floor.
Thankfully everyone starts around the same time and so Emily and Naomi come down for two weeks before the 27th to bask in the dying summer of September before heading back to school. Well, Naomi. Emily seems to be just fine wasting away, working this crap 9 to 5 job at some sugar shack down the street. Sure they seem to enjoy it just fine and have settled into this stupid crap domesticity that frankly Katie thinks Emily's always been cut out for anyway but still.
Still.
She arrives at the station ten minutes too early, and though she's promised she'd only come by after Emily'd called her, there really was nothing else to do at home. And it's not like anyone's going to call her up to get together. And it's not like she's missed them. It was a boring day. All days are boring in Bristol for christ's sake.
She sees Emily first, jumping off the train with her usual flair and excitement, a large white sweater clearly not her size, or hers at all, flailing about in the wind. She's looking around for familiar faces, then turning her head back to Naomi who walks off slowly with two huge bags, lending the smaller one to the redhead with a kiss on the forehead. Their hairstyles have shortened slightly, their attire more professional. And when they simultaneously turn on their heels to walk off the platform, their hands fall immediately against one another, interlinking like two objects locking in place.
Naomi sees her first. Nudges Emily casually and motions to her with an almost smile. Emily lights up immediately, almost taking off and flying into her arms with an unattractive 'umnft' sound, the bag thudding to the floor and even landing on Katie's foot. She doesn't feel it. "Katie."
She's flooded with giddiness. And relief. For some reason.
"Hey Katie," Naomi tries a genuine smile.
Katie scrunches her mouth, and lets a half-hearted 'Hey' slip out.
They stay with her, of course, the place being Naomi's old apartment anyway, and instead settle into the guest room. It's still a bit drafty. When they open the window to air out the room, the squeaking and grinding of the wood seems to echo in the room, in her ears, and she exits quickly to catch her breath.
"You alright?" Emily asks offhandedly as Naomi hands her some toiletries.
"Yeah," Katie replies, keeping a hand against her chest and unwilling to look into the room itself. She heads downstairs to fix up a snack.
Tony Stonem is so much better up close.
There'd been stories, fables if you will, of the legendary Tony Stonem, so fucking fit and mysteriously confident in his ways, that she'd built up stories of him in her mind: A gallant, young, devil-without-cause mischief maker out to spray paint his name on as many bedposts as possible. Well it's true, she hadn't heard the best stories about his non-existant monogamy, but it was a part of his charm and allure. Then he went mental. Probably shagged his mind out.
Nonetheless, Tony Stonem arrives home for a weekend or more around the time Effy changes her prescription to ACBT120. He enters the room the way she thinks all Stonems do: Quietly.
They're playing chess for maybe the fourth time today, it being a game that apparently triggers the least amount of memories (Katie nearly had to burn her Eye Know, the game consisting of absolutely ridiculous visuals she'd foolishly thought would just seem amusing and childish. Fucking Canadians can't do anything right, really.).
"What the fuck."
"What."
"You can't do that, Effy, your king can only move one square."
"This is a new move."
"Oh, right, you're teaching me chess, yeah? What's next, then?"
"He can move twice over when it's this move."
"Right, like the way your pawn could move backwards last game?"
Knock. Knock. "Actually, that move's called castling." They turn. He stands against the doorway. So tall. So tall, she'd never expected him to be so tall. In corduroy jeans and stripped polo shirt. He points to the chess board. "And s-sometimes the pawns can move backwards. It depends on which composition you're playing." He looks up at Effy, right in the eyes, for the first time. He tries a smile but it fails. "Hi Effy."
Her eyes fall. "Tony." It's listless, and Katie, capable of taking a hint, cleans the board off the bed in silence as they stare at one another.
Tony leans against the doorway, seemingly trying to catch his breath and staring at his hands. "I'm sorry I'm so...I mean, I wo-would've-" he tries, but fails with a sigh. He stares out the window instead, focusing on the grass outside, the other residents doing their daily stretches.
Most days, Emily and Naomi stay in, doing god knows what in their room, sometimes fucking, sometimes just talking. Fucking lesbians just sit around and talk about their feelings all the fucking time. They seem to have the whole couple thing down, with completing sentences and casual glances with cutesy "What?" and equally adorable "Nothing" giggles.
Once at the lunch table they're having salad and when they're done, Emily's saved all the cashews on her plate to the side that Naomi then eats one by one as they sit and chat about when Katie's available to come visit. It's horribly stripping of their individualities and dependant and predictable and yet stupidly comfortable. It looks comfortable.
They have a fight a bit after a week after they've arrived. Emily's in tears and Naomi's nearly done tearing her hair out.
"Maybe if you just fucking tell me what you mean, then!" she hears Naomi shouting from upstairs one night.
"You should know, you should know! By now, Naoms, of all times, you should just know!"
"How the fuck am I supposed to magically fucking know!"
Emily's storming down the stairs with a bag in hand and Naomi's nearly crawling down after her. The twins connect eyes for a brief moment and Katie looks down at her studies.
"You're being ridiculous, Em," Naomi says angrily.
"You're being insensitive." Emily slams some cupboards around the kitchen for good measure. She's packing provisions into her bag, ever so slowly. Probably going to disappear for a few days. "As fucking usual," she mumbles under her breath.
"What're you doing?" Naomi asks her softly.
"Like you care."
"Where are you going."
Emily zips her bag with so much anger, so much frustration, just settles it on the counter with a blank thud. "Nowhere," she says with that familiar zeal.
"Oh," Naomi lifts her head. "Oh, I see, we're back there now, aren't we. Still running."
"Fuck you."
"No, fuck you, Ems, just fuck you." Naomi's out of the kitchen in a flash, storming up the stairs and Emily's shifting the bag onto her back.
"Where are you going?" Katie asks, dog-tagging page 67 and flipping the page onto chapter three.
"I said nowhere," Emily replies in a huff, brushing past her and going out the front door.
She wonders if Emily knows she leaves Katie every time she leaves Naomi, too. Maybe she just treats Bristol like London. Maybe 'home' just means 'Naomi'.
'Course Emily comes back the next morning, feeling a bit better, but there's that wary look in Naomi's eyes when the redhead kisses her cheek and whispers an apology.
And Katie wonders how many infidelities have happened between them.
She hates that she wonders that. But she does.
Things get a little easier with Naomi here, they split up days again to meet with meet Effy. She's there the first day they run into Tony.
"Oh. Hi," he says, extending his hand and shaking Naomi's. "I'm Tony."
"Naomi Campbell," she replies.
"Hi," he says again for good measure, standing awkwardly with his book in hand. They stand for a few moments in silence and he suddenly shakes his book in Effy's direction. "Oh! Are you...are you here to see..?"
"Yes," Naomi replies in the driest of forms, and for once Katie appreciates it like none other, stifling a laugh.
"He's a bit odd, izzint he," Naomi remarks when they're sitting outside having lunch.
Katie shrugs.
"What, you don't think so?"
"It doesn't fucking matter."
Naomi shrugs. "Whatever."
Katie munches on her carrots for a few moments before swallowing. "So you and my sister still working out, then?" she asks, trying to make conversation.
Naomi nods. "We're great."
"Always the convincing one."
Naomi sighs. "We've got our ups and downs, but who doesn't, really."
She laughs and lights a smoke. They're all such fucking clichés.
She doesn't know if Emily knows Naomi cries herself to sleep when they fight.
It's quite pathetic, really.
What she really doesn't understand though, is where Tony's been all this time. In school yeah, but what the fuck kind of schooling takes you away from your sister while she's in the loony bin? He comes by every two days now, checking up on her. And it's nice to see Effy's smile, but it's also worrying. She tries to get Eff to open up about it.
"Finals end in May, though, where's he been? Where was he when you needed him?"
"He's been busy," Effy replies, slipping into her robes for the day.
It seems to be enough for her. 'Busy.'
They're doing yoga on the front lawn. Katie's bought new athletic wear and waits around for Effy to comment on them. She never does.
They're stretching on the grounds and keeping their eyes on the professor when Katie sees a figure in the background, hidden slightly by the tree branches but still visible: A young man, in a bright red shirt and dark grey pants, walking about almost aimlessly, with an unmistakable swagger. And she loses her stance, falls out of her trance and some of the other patients look at her warily.
"Everything alright back there?" the yoga teacher asks as Katie picks herself up.
"Fine," Katie says distractedly, and stands above the patients to get a clearer look. She raises a hand to blot the sun out of her eyes.
He waves.
He's been in fucking Paris, working under the tables, memorizing key words and getting by on the kindness of strangers, and Katie can't help but smack his head, for no reason, for all the reasons in the world.
"Awhhhh," he groans in pain, and Naomi rushes to shut their front door.
"Cook? What the fuck," Emily's exclaiming as she rushes down the stairs.
"Good to see you lezzers still gettin' it on," he says, motioning a finger between Naomi and Emily who casually ignore it, "Was hopin true love could save the day somewheres."
"Cook, you can't be here," Naomi says it first, and there's a small silence as everyone shifts.
"I know that," Cook says, holding his head up, high. Always the silent soldier isn't it, Katie muses, and she has an unruly urge to reach forward and flake his hair, make certain he's really here. He sniffs. "I was just-"
"Cook," Emily says quietly, "They're still looking for you."
"Shut up," Katie realizes she's saying it before she does.
And Cook's eyebrow raises a bit as he turns to her. "What's this?" he asks with a hint of a smirk.
Katie licks her lips. "This is my flat now, and I can decide who stays."
"Katie."
"He's staying."
He'll stay upstairs in their large supply closet. It's large and empty and easily concealable. She asks him where his things are and he lifts up a black duffel bag, the same one he'd packed just months before, now stained and breaking at the sides. She caresses it slowly. "I'll get you a new one."
"Don't need one."
"I said I'll get you a new one."
He settles in for the night and thanks her for the spare blanket and pillow she gives him. Well really it's her pillow, straight off her bed, but she'll find a smaller one from the cupboard later tonight. What's most important is he doesn't hurt his head against the hard floor in the closet. "Bit like Harry Potter, aren't I?" he asks with a smile, and Katie can't help but smile in return.
"Always a fucking child, aren't you."
"You love it." Cook winks.
She pats him down and leaves awkwardly, leaning against the doorframe. "Have you got everything?"
He pats his bag, his blanket and pillow, like a twelve year old in tight shoes and itchy sweater vest on his first day of school. He nods. "Thanks, Katie."
She knocks his door. "Goodnight."
"I mean really, thank you." And there's a delve in resonance in his voice that makes her wonder just how kind strangers have been to James Cook. Or life, for that matter.
"Sort yourself out, yeah?"
He nods.
"It's a mistake," Naomi says in the morning during breakfast before he's awake. "I love him, too, Katie, but this is a mistake."
Katie chomps down harder, and lifts the newspaper up higher to ignore her.
"There must be somewhere else he can stay, maybe we could call up JJ," Emily says.
And Katie blows. "For fuck's sake," she growls, getting up and washing her dish, "He's not going anywhere, because I have space, and he's my friend."
Naomi sighs. "We're not-"
"It doesn't matter. You don't have a say in this," Katie yells now, shifting her head to both of them to see their faces. "Got it? You're leaving in a few weeks or less, go fuck off to London, I don't care." And she's out of the room in a flash.
"Katie-" Emily tries wearily, only to stop when Naomi puts her hand on hers and shakes her head 'Don't'.
She doesn't know whether to tell Effy or not. She can't imagine why she's hesitating. He's quite specific about it, though, almost two days after when he's lounging on the hammock and she's sitting on the swingset he'd built. He lounges out his legs and reaches out, extending his arm and caressing her arm.
"Babe."
She can feel his hand on every single inch of her skin, every slight movement of his fingers sending tingles down her body. "Not your babe."
"I was wondering when we could-"
"See Effy?"
"Well yeah."
And there's this plunge of something very hard and hollow in her stomach that she can't quite ignore, so instead she shifts away from his arm, checking her nails for some reason. These nails, always so sore sometimes she needs to pinch the tips of her fingers to make them feel better, more attached
"Katie?"
"What?" And it's sharper than she'd intended it to be.
He shifts uncomfortably. "Nothing," he says, bowing his head. They sit for another moment in silence and it's striking to Katie how comfortable it is. But finally she sighs.
"I guess next week, I can sneak you in or something."
He laughs very softly, so softly it's almost tragic, a very small childlike smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Thanks," he says.
She lights a spliff and hands it to him after a drag, blowing some white puffs to the sky.
"So what's happening with you, babe, who's the latest man in yo life?"
She shrugs. "Whatever," she says.
He laughs, but it dies almost immediately. "There's more to life than just fucking around, yknow."
She nods. "I know."
They smoke for a while longer, passing the spliff till it ends. When she gets up from the swing and heads in to sleep, she taps his hand instead of telling him.
"Gnight," he says.
She plays chess with Tony one afternoon when Effy's being taken to the washroom and having a bath. He's really very good, and she can tell he's allowing her to win, purposely losing his queen early on in the match.
"So where've you been?" she asks.
"Well at school, but just at the beginning of August there I-"
"I meant when Effy landed herself in the hospital, the first time around, where were you?"
He swallows slightly and stretches his neck. "I just needed to be away from family, for a minute, you know? Sometimes it's just too much, the responsibility. I can't be in so many places at once. You understand, don't you?" he asks, a smirk on his lips. There is something grotesque about it, really.
"No," she replies.
Family's important. She doesn't understand why no one gets that anymore.
The fucking lesbians are back on their fuck-a-thon in no time at all. One Saturday morning Katie comes into the kitchen to find four pieces of toast on plates. She touches them and they're growing cold, one of them rock hard already. "For fuck's sake," she mumbles. What a waste of food. She sweeps upstairs and pounds on their door, and upon hearing noise from within bursts in without a moment's hesitancy, only to stagger in pain at the sight of a naked Naomi grabbing helplessly at the bedposts as Emily's hasty hands and head work mercilessly between her legs. And Katie's out like a fucking light, yelling out the first few words that slip from her mouth, slamming the door shut and rushing back down the stairs in a fit of fury. Later Naomi comes down in a robe to take their toast and orange juice on a tray. She pauses at the bottom of the stairs and bites her lower lip. Katie closes her eyes and cringes already.
"I um. I sleep naked."
"Cheers."
"Sorry."
It's sort of agreed upon that Cook'll leave probably around the time when Emily and Naomi leave for London. She doesn't know when that was decided, or who did, or why she didn't get a vote.
Or why she cares.
There's a moment in that living room when they're discussing it and Cook looks up at her, as though waiting for her to speak her mind, to fill in her two cents. And suddenly that pressure, that sudden spotlight from his eyes just silences her.
"Babe?" he asks her. Does that frown he does, and moves his hands around the room. "Got anything to say about this?"
She crosses her arms. "I guess it's better you go," she says with a shrug, and casually ignores that squeezing feeling in her lungs when he sadly accepts that answer with a nod.
One afternoon when Katie's come home from the bookstore with textbooks for her class starting in September, Emily's hanging out in the living room and breaks away from her book. She licks her lips. "Katie?"
"Yeah."
"How're mum and dad? And James?"
"They're alright."
"Are..are they still mad?"
"Yeah. They are."
"Oh."
"You should call them."
"Yeah. Later." Emily goes back to her books. Katie goes upstairs.
She takes Cook to see Effy, right around the time she said she would. She sneaks him in through the back and around Nancy doing her nightly rounds. It's Thursday, so Tony's gone home. Katie tiptoes into the room first, to make sure she's decent. Sure enough she's lying on her bed, fully awake, drowning out the sound of everything around her with a book in her hand. Heart of Darkness. Something Tony's recommended no doubt.
"Eff?"
She puts the book down on her lap and smiles a weary smile. "Katie."
She's about to say something, maybe "I've brought someone," or "Someone's here to see you," but it all feels so cliché, so forced. Like a game of peek-a-boo. Well it isn't. He left. And now he's back.
"Hey princess."
She watches as Effy's eyes go wide with shock and calm excitement, a real genuine smile playing across her lips, then suddenly a tremor and a tear sliding from her eye. And before she can move, Cook's already softly brushing past her and kneeling by Effy's bed, taking her hands in his and kissing them.
"Cook," she says so softly, so broken.
He grins and readjusts himself to sit beside her. "Didn't think you were rid of me so fast did you?"
Katie steps outside and closes the door halfway, now on guard. That is it, isn't it. Her place.
It goes on like this for a few days. She'll be up against this same wall, staring down an empty corridor, listening to Cook's deep voice, Effy's giggles.
One night everyone's gone up for sleep and Katie's still downstairs keeping an inventory of the fridge when Emily comes down for a drink of water.
They're silent, so awkwardly still around one another, and Katie can't remember the last time they just didn't know how to be around one another.
"Alright?" she tries.
Emily sips at her water and chews on her bottom lip. "Yeah. How're you?"
Katie shrugs. "You uh...are you and Naomi doing alright?"
Emily nods slowly. "It's hard," she says with a sad shrug, "But it's worth it, you know?"
Katie nods. Well no she doesn't. But fuck it if Emily's about to go into detail of how hard being in a relationship is, how hard it is to be adored everyday, how hard it is to work with somebody, to stop being Me and start thinking We. Fuck it.
"Are you getting ready for classes?"
"Yeah."
Emily nods. She finishes her water and rinses it out. She dries her lips with the back of her hand then hesitates before leaving. "Get some sleep."
Katie's closing the fridge to stop the annoying humming sound when Emily's already climbing back up the stairs. "Yeah," she says absently to an empty kitchen.
Cook makes jokes. Not all the time, but sometimes, he'll make a really funny joke, something really very witty, something quite observative, and she'll laugh a loud one, and he'll smile, and for a moment they're really just sitting, and being, and smiling at one another.
And in another instant their smiles with flicker away. And he'll ask about Effy. And she'll answer.
Like this one time. They're on the living room floor, and Cook's telling her about this one time he was a waiter at a little cafe in Versailles, and his hands are making all these random signals and movements in the air, they're almost as distracting, but she can't help but laugh.
"What?" he asks, turning to her with this smile, this smile that lights up his entire face, and he looks so young, and alive.
"Nothing," she responds, stifling her breathy giggles. His hands have just stilled in mid-air, forming some odd triangle shape, and she laughs again.
He laughs, a real one, and his teeth are so bright and sharp, and his eyes do this crinkly thing at the corners, and they just laugh, and laugh, connecting eyes every few seconds.
When she gets up to go sleep moments later, she places her hands down on the floor to raise herself, only to land on his own hand for a moment, feeling the skin of his fingers, coarse hairs. She can feel the anger, the tension in them. And the calm, the warmth. She shifts her hand off him and gets up. Mumbles an apology.
This other time, Cook comes completely unannounced.
She's with Effy, and they're reading a book, a horrible horrible book by some Beckett figure Tony recommended, and debating whether to burn or rip it apart. It's dark, yes, but Effy giggles, and it's so rare to hear the girl laugh, so rare to see her smile, that the nurses have encouraged whatever it is that'll make her genuinely crack a grin.
There's a gentle rapping at the door and Cook swerves in, closing the door behind him.
The two of them are up in a flash. "Cook!" Katie hisses at him.
He raises his hands in protest and flashes his grin. "I wasn't seen, luv."
Katie gets out of bed, slaps his arm. "How the fuck did you get out of the house? How did you-"
"Don't worry babe, I've got my-"
She slaps his arm again. "I'm not your babe."
"Come on, just be happy to see Cookie."
"You're such a child-" She moves to slap him again but he takes her wrists and pulls them to him, and she staggers slightly, and their bodies are flush against each other, and she can feel him, everywhere. "Shh," he says, and his lips, they're just so close. Everything is so close. "Don't wake Nancy," he says with a grin.
"I hate you."
"No you don't," he says with a tsking grin, letting loose of her wrists and turning to Effy. "Does she, princess?"
And it's only then Katie remembers they've been in this room, in front of Effy. And she's painfully aware of how wet her knickers are.
Effy smiles a hesitant smile. So different from her mischievous one. This one was filled with confusion, with some sort of dread. "No," she breathes, "She doesn't."
"There we are," Cook says with a laugh and lets down his suspenders. He walks over to Effy's bed and sits beside her, taking her hand in his.
Katie's out of the room in a flash and calms herself down in the bathroom.
fuck.
Cook wants to read. She'd never thought he'd be a reader but one night they're alone and he makes her dinner, telling her about this one time when he hopped the trains over and over, all day long in Paris, just to get around, to get some fresh air. And after a few stops you think you've seen it all, but you still enjoy that movement, the free-moving vehicle is so soothing you could sit there for ages. And he'd picked up reading, borrowing some books from fellow passengers, or purchasing some of his own. And there's something so...grown up. About it all. She sits there in the kitchen, prepping for her courses that'll start soon, and but finds herself watching him in Emily's lime green apron, salting the pasta with his fingers above the pan, talking about this bloke Kerouac. It's all so domestic. And easy, and comfortable. And normal. And she can't help but
"Babe?" he asks.
She shakes her head. "Yeah."
"So. I never got around to finishing that one. After he pissed on it I sort of left it for the dogs. Smelled enough like piss on my own, didn't need to carry a paperback of it, you know."
"Y-yeah."
He tries a pasta and smiles at its texture, scooping some onto two plates. "So could you get a copy for me, down at the library? Or..wherever you know." He comes to the table with the plates, placing hers down first. "Bon appetit," he says in a horrible french accent. He waits until she starts eating and then he begins, and she suddenly wants to cry. Fucking bawl tears and lose her voice and just make this stop. Make all of this stop.
"I'll see what I can do," she says instead.
"People aren't made for each other, you know?" Tony says, blowing some smoke into the air, passing her the spliff. They're on the grass outside of Effy's window, watching the stars. Effy's lounging against the window frame, slowly drifting off to sleep, inhaling the cool summer night air and second-hand smoke. "People aren't actually made for each other, there's no such thing as soul mates. Not really. I used to think so. There was only one person out there for each of us. Up to us to not let it go when you're lucky enough to find 'em."
She passes it back the spliff.
He takes it with a soft thanks. "But it's not true. Sometimes we meet the right person, and it takes us a while to realize it. A real while. Maybe they're with someone else, sort of..equally blind to you. It takes a while. And you never considered them because...well they weren't the one for you. But after a while you start to realize they are, you just met them in the wrong context, you met them when they were already stamped with someone else's name on them, you know?"
She stops listening after that. He starts talking about patience and destiny and New York of all places and some random Cassie waitress. It's all just words, really. He eventually passes the spliff back to her to finish, which she does, at a phenomenally fast pace. By the time she's stubbing it out, she can barely hear him, and the haze is filling her head and washing over the dead-lock feeling in her chest.
"Are you listening?"
No, she really wasn't, but she managed to hear those words.
"I was in New York. I should've been in school but I'd gone to New York to find her."
At one point she does get around to going to the library and uses the machine to find Kerouac, Jack for the first time in her life. Beat Poetry. She raises an eyebrow. Never imagined he'd be into beat poetry, that was the shite Naomi liked, and fuck it was dull, especially when she'd read it aloud. Nonetheless she copies down the address and goes on her hunt, groaning as a poster on the wall shows it'll be three floors up. No one ever fucking goes up to the third floor, she'll be kidnapped and taken advantage of in no time.
Of course when she finally does get to the section up on the third floor she hears it already. Hushed voices and the dropping of books onto the floor, the rattling of shelves. She checks the location on her paper and marches in her direction, sighing when she realizes she's only approaching the noise. Of course she is.
"You're sssupposed...t-to be helping me ff! Fffind..."
"Shhhhh..."
"E-emily...fucking christ..." A groan. More books falling.
Katie sighs in frustration, in exhaustion, in absolute exhaustion, two rows away. Turns on her heel and heads back downstairs.
She returns to get the book the next day, in broad daylight.
Tony leaves earlier than they expected he would. Really just packs right on up and is heading back out after visiting. He spends a few moments with Effy, touching her face, her hands, whispering something to her she's clearly gobbling up, and Katie can't help but feel sick. He's leaving. They always leave, siblings. They pretend they care. But they don't. Not really.
"I'll see you around, Katie?" he asks her when they cross paths in the hallway.
She scrunches her lips together in response.
And so ended the run-in with the great Tony Stonem.
They're having one of their last dinners with Emily and Naomi when it becomes clear they're having a fight. Naomi's passing the broccoli to Cook when Emily accidentally elbows her and suddenly sparks are flying everywhere. And Emily wants to confront it now, in front of them, now now now before it blows even more out of proportion but Naomi's being passive aggressive. It's all so very horrible, really, ending with Naomi eventually slapping down her fork with a loud clatter and Cook nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound. No one notices but Katie, really, and she can't help but see his fingers cringing on his napkin, nails digging, his breath coming in short gasps.
"Get the fuck out of here, bitches, take it upstairs," she says in such a tone that they're both already marching up. They're alone, and Katie decides to get down on one knee to him in his seat. It's what her mum used to do. Lower yourself so that even when their heads hang, they still see you're there for them. "Cook?"
"Sorry," he says, still cringing, rubbing at his eyes that are now tearing. He sniffs strongly and the tears are gone, replaced with shaky breaths and shuddering shoulders. "Bad tear with some wanker in Sorbonne. Had this uhh...had this fooking fork." He rubs his arm absently, and her eyes widen. "Fuckin French think they know everything, yeah?"
Katie tries for a smile, but can't. Instead she places her hand on his, very tentatively. "Are you okay?" she asks hesitantly. He tries for a smile too, succeeding better than she did. She takes the moment to raise his shirt just a bit, and runs her fingers over a dark red slit with holes in his forearm. "Cook," she breathes. How on earth had she not noticed it?
He moves it away from her and makes a clicking sound with his tongue. He winks at her, lifting her chin with his finger. "Ship shape, babe."
She exhales a careful smile. "Not your babe."
"There's that smile."
The last Thursday night they have before school, Effy takes her hand with that mysterious smile again and brings them somewhere new, and through the backdoor. She gives a head nod to the bouncer, a friendly looking buff who winks at her. 'Drinks,' Effy calls to her once they're in, slipping some notes in her hand and floating into the noisy crowd. The music is loud, jazzy, and Katie hates to admit; catchy and easy to dance to. She pushes her way through a crowd of giggling girls who'd begun eyeing her up and down since they got in, making a beeline for the bar.
"Can I get some service here please?" she huffs, waving her hand.
A dirty blonde with long, curly locks moves over to her, resting on her arms so...comfortably, for a bartender. "What can I get you, gorgeous?"
"Two gin and tonics." She hands her money over.
The girl smiles, leaning over the counter. "You'll have to speak up."
Katie glides in. "Two gin and tonics."
The smile grows, and she speaks even lower. "Still can't hear you."
Katie places her hands on the counter and leans forward. "Two gin and tonics." The bartender's smile softens and Katie spots a twinkle in her eye and is suddenly painfully aware of just how close they are, and can feel her breath on her lips.
"You got it," she says with a lick of her lips and Katie feels a head rush as she moves over to her drinks. What the fuck...She turns around slowly, knowing and realizing what she'll see in any case, but turning nonetheless.
Girls. Fucking everywhere. Fucking everywhere.
A .bar.
A tap on the shoulder and she swings back; two perfect gin and tonics, sitting neatly with stirring sticks. "Paid for," the bartender says almost sadly, "By that brunette over by the entrance." She motions with a thumb and Katie grabs the drink, uncaring, unwilling, incapable of following the motion.
"Thanks," she mutters, and swings her way through the crowd of women grinding, flirting, laughing, dancing. She downs her drink before even seeing Effy on the dance floor. She's dancing like a goddess, hopping from one foot to the other, a gorgeous redhead kissing her neck, and palming her tit, a blonde with lightning blue streaks full on snogging her, with a hand on her waist and the other in her hair. She looks fucking sexy, like a goddess in heat; wanton and wanted and completely deceptively obtainable.
"Effy."
She breaks her kiss and smiles at Katie with one of her 'gotcha' expressions. "Katie," she laughs, as the redhead stubbornly continues to kiss her neck. She takes the drink and downs it in a flash, laughing again when the blonde fumbles for it and throws it behind her, grabbing Effy in for another forceful kiss.
Katie's mouth has just sunk from the floor to the basement. She hears more giggling and turns in time to see the group of giggling girls still giggling at her, some cleverly about to...make a move on her or something. Sighing the Effy situation off with a half-hearted 'urgh', she rushes to the bathroom, which has probably to Naomi's delight been marked gender neutral. Probably not the safest place to be alone, but it was all she could think of, and another group of tittering girls are exiting the bathroom with glee. She pushes past them and sighs softly in relief as the door closes behind her and the stalls are surprisingly empty save for one. She's about to fix her hair which has gone curiously astray in the mirror when she realizes the hard, steady thrumming isn't from the sink.
Rap. Rap. Moan. Rap. Gasp.
A hard, familiar grinding of bodies and sounds of frenzied kissing, and two distinct shuddering breaths battling against one another.
Oh. That's fantastic, really.
"Christ, you're so...fucking...wet..."
"Harder, Naoms. Oh right there...there..theretheretherethere..."
Cheers, universe.
"Can't even wait until we get home-"
"No..no, yes..yes...yess..oh fuck me..."
She brushes out of the loo. "For fuck's sake, doesn't anybody suck cock anymore!" Katie shouts at a pair of giggling girls as they enter the loo hand-in-hand. She makes her way onto the dance floor again, trying to pound the sounds out of her head when she spots Effy back on the floor, this time with a tall girl with jet-black hair and ripped jeans. "Effy, what the fuck," she finally manages as she pulls the girl away. Effy giggles and Katie knows she's taken something. She pushes a frustrating stone down her throat. "Effy please. Let's go."
"Katie," Effy pants happily, her eyes closing and opening at random, she places unsteady, warm hands on Katie's shoulders. "Katie, lighten up and broaden your horizons."
Katie sneers, again aware of their proximity. "You're batshit," she mumbles, trying weakly to shake her hands off her, but finds herself tightening her grip on her wrists. "Come on, Eff, let's get you back."
"Katie, it's alright," Effy says dreamily, "You can have him. I don't even want him."
Another head rush and Katie blinks herself back. She didn't just hear-she couldn't have just-that wouldn't make any sense anyway. "What?" she asks incredulously instead. She observes the girl's swaying and fumbling hands, eyes closing and wavering, drunken smile. Then pauses, and feels all this weight, all this sadness plummet into her eyes, and hates that it's there. "Yes you do," she says so quietly she's surprised she's said it aloud at all, let alone loud enough for Effy to hear. But a falter in the girl's smile lets them both know she did, and for the first time, Katie lets Effy's hand go as she slips back into the crowd with the lost, abandoned blue eyes she hasn't seen surface in years.
She goes home alone.
She sees Cook is in the closet space still awake, reading. She can't bring herself to say anything, so she walks past it as quickly as possible.
He twists his head at the sound of her footsteps. "Babe?" he calls out, getting up immediately and heading out into the hallway but she closes the door. He knocks softly. "Babe?" he asks. Nothing. He swallows. "Katie?"
"Leave me alone."
He does.
Emily's the first to take notice, and there's merit behind that.
In the morning, she comes to her when Katie's washing the dishes and places a hand on her shoulder. "Katie?" she asks, in that child-like voice, so similar to her middle-school one. She rubs her shoulder. "Are you alright?"
"When did that become important?" Katie asks, scrubbing harder at a dish.
And Emily just hugs her, from the back, a real, warm hug. "Thank you for everything," she says weakly, and Katie can only stay still until Emily's all hugged out.
"When did anything I want become important?" she asks herself quietly when Emily's gone.
Things have gotten a little bit weirder with Effy since the night. They talk less. Treat one another like company, but less as friends. It's so horrible, really, because there's no reason for it. There should never be a reason for it. And when Cook comes by to visit and he asks Katie to stay in the room, there's a flash of something she can't read in Effy's eyes. Like hurt. Like betrayal. But she can't understand why it's there.
"Always the hopeless wanderer, aren't you, Cook," Effy says with a smile to him, caressing his hair. "I love that about you."
Katie watches as he edges his hair out of her grasp. "Yeah," he says with a mandatory grin, a tinge of something Katie's sure Effy can't see.
When Emily and Naomi leave, it's more awkward, and Katie hates that. Who'd have guessed these two were sister, really.
They have a hug at the house, because Cook can't leave with them obviously, and Katie opts to stay with him anyway. Another hug from Naomi that Katie feels so unfortunately bland, and another from Emily, who kisses her cheek and whispers, "Keep in touch."
And then they're gone. With a wave from the cab they're off and Cook even puts his arm around her.
"We're really growing up, aren't we, babe?" he says, and so seriously, with such a low tone, that Katie can't help but sniff at it. They really are.
It'd been such a long haul to that last week when they'd left. More fighting, more makeup sex, more fighting, more disgustingly public displays of affection that even Cook began to tire of, and they'd exchange glances from across the table. Emily had changed. So much. And Katie?
Well, she muses to herself one night in bed, maybe you don't change. When you stay in Bristol. When you stay home, maybe things just don't change.
But then she hears Cook in the kitchen downstairs rifling through the cupboards for a late night snack and thinks, maybe not.
Maybe some people just change for the worst.
Maybe some people just grow apart.
It's only a matter of time before he goes, too.
They'll be releasing me next week," Effy says calmly one afternoon.
Katie looks up from the chess board. "What?"
Effy nods. "They-well. I feel like I'm ready."
Katie looks about the room, uncertain as to what to say. "Oh."
Effy places her hand on Katie's. "It's time."
So wait a minute, what does this mean about us?
Are we okay?
He's just a boy.
So many things she wants to say to Effy. So many things flying through her mind that night, when she sits alone in the almost dark in the living room, scratching at her perfect nails.
"Babe?"
It's so enormously soothing, his voice, that she does, in fact, cry.
"Babe, b-babe, what's wrong?" He's down on his knees in front of her, imitating her exact position. He takes her hands in his and kisses them, the same way he kisses Effy's hands. And she sobs harder.
"Please don't go," she musters out.
He hugs her, so tightly and yet so carefully, and she's never felt so warm, so protected. "Shh shh shh," he says, shaking them from side to side.
"Please no," she says into his shoulder, sniffing. "Please, please."
"You know I can't stay," he says.
He brings her up to her room. He offers to carry her, but she chooses to walk, so he stands behind her, making sure she can feel his hands on her shoulder, ready to catch her should she lose her balance on the stairs. He swallows hard through the whole walk, and when they pass his closet, he discreetly blocks it, for fear she should see his packed duffel bag, and his stupid, stupid letter to her that now seems useless. She sits slowly on her bed and watches him sit beside her. He forgoes turning on the light, and they rely on a bright sliver of gold shining through the slit of her open bedroom door. He puts his hand on hers. She closes her eyes and lets a few more tears slide down her cheeks. "Cook," she breathes.
"I didn't-" he tries, but bites his lower lip and changes his tactic. "It's better if I don't have a reason to come back. Yknow? Still gunna keep to my cards here," he pats his chest, "Disappear into the night, you'll never know where I am." She shakes her head and turns away, so he tightens his grip on her hand. "Come on," he says strongly, "Come on babe, this doesn't have to be so hard, let's just part as mates and be done with it, yeah?"
Katie sighs a hurt laugh. "You say we're growing up," she says slowly, "But all you do is keep running." She sniffs and turns to him, steadying her eyes. "You need to grow up too, Cook."
And she can see something in his eyes disconnect. He swallows again and stretches his neck. Clearing his through, he kisses her hand again. "You should get some sleep," he says almost in pain.
Maybe it isn't that nobody stays in Bristol.
Maybe people just leave her.
She wakes the next morning fully tucked into her bed, a bit of mascara on her pillow sheet and she grumbles a 'shit' before suddenly realizing everything of last night. She gets up quickly and looks around her empty room, bursts out the bedroom and rushes to his closet door. And she knows it, but she can't quite bring herself to just let it go, so she opens it anyway, sliding down to the floor in pain at the empty room presenting itself to her, the cold hardwood almost snickering, "You silly, silly girl."
She closes the closet and locks it.
Just to be dramatic.
Effy is released the next week. There is little to say. She brings her home to Anthea.
"Thank you, Katie," Anthea says with a smile, bringing her daughter into their home.
"No problem," Katie says with a weary smile she's so torn feels fake, and cold.
"Thanks, Katie," Effy says, a wispiness to her voice that's come back. She flutters some fingers as an odd salute. "Now go be magical."
Her eyebrows arch but she can't get a word in before the door's being closed in her face almost immediately.
They're still searching for Cook. Another random update on the website mentions one James Cook Jr is still out in the world probably looking for more heads to bash in, that kids should be kept indoors, and knickers locked up. It's all more than enough to do her head in, Katie gives up on reading the paper. She lights a fag in her kitchen and puffs at the ceiling. Listens to the tiny cracks of a rickety flat. It's quiet. It's always quiet in Bristol. When you're the only one left, that is.
Effy calls her once a month, maybe. They get together and share a spliff by the dock, talk about nothing, or just sit in silence. She's got a new man, Effy. Paul from Room 52.
"When did that happen?" Katie asks.
Effy shrugs. "Last month maybe." She places the spliff between her lips and holds it there with two fingers, daintily extending out her arm on her knee and exhaling slowly.
Katie rarely talks about her own life. Effy doesn't ask. Effy never really did ask, did she. Effy's not really interested in Katie. Effy's not really interested in much.
By December they've probably fallen out of touch, and when Katie's got some free time over the weekend, she chooses instead to have a girls' night in with Sascha and Melanie from English Lit 314.
She gets a postcard, though.
Around Christmas. It's timed fucking perfectly, really.
It's a picture of that stupid fucking pig movie in the 90's; Babe. And it kills her inside when she flips it around and there's nothing there. Just an empty postcard.
No one understands who it's from. Not even Emily.
"Forget it," she mumbles hastily to them all, shoving the postcard in her pocket.
end