Effy

I hear a loud knock at the door, as someone shouts my name, rudely awakening me from my daily ritual of sleeping in until midday.

I stumble out of bed, pulling my jeans on, leaving on the shirt that I've just slept in and hoping that whoever's at the door won't notice or care that I haven't showered or even brushed my teeth yet this morning.

"For Christ's sake, I'm coming." I mutter under my breath as I they bang on the door again.

My eyes water as I try to stifle a yawn whilst opening the door reluctantly. It takes me a couple of seconds to realize who's in front of me. Their lank, dirty blonde hair is scraped back into a messy pony tail, their pale face blotchy with tears. A far cry from the confident, happy, powerful girl I remember her being.

"Naomi… What are you doing here?" I ask, gently. I had barely seen her in the past few months, since she shacked up with Emily. I had guessed we had all kind of outgrown each other; we had slowly drifted more and more apart since we left school. And with Katie and I never really seeing eye to eye, things were awkward with everyone else, too.

"I just wanted someone to talk to…" She murmurs. Then as if she suddenly remembers why she's so upset, she reveals, "I've been sacked." And bursts into fresh tears.

I stand there, staring blankly. I never know what to do when people cry. I'm not cold hearted. I do care. It's just that I have my own problems to deal with; sometimes trying to help other people takes up emotional energy that I don't have. If that makes me selfish, then I don't really give a shit.

"Come in."

I take her through to the kitchen and we both sit down at the table. Naomi puts her head in her hands. I sit there stiffly. There's an uncomfortable silence, which I can cope with for no longer than a few seconds. I'm paranoid that we'll be interrupted by something we don't need to hear from my mum's room upstairs.

"Naomi… Is everything okay? What's going on?"

It takes me a while to get much sense out of her. She starts trying to make a sentence, but it keeps ending in, "I'm such a dick, I just fuck everything up." I wait patiently. Sometimes my silence can be a strong point. I'd rather sit there quietly and let things unravel naturally, than force them to come spilling out before they're ready. I'm vaguely aware that I still haven't brushed my teeth. I cover my mouth with my hand as I speak again.

"Why don't we go for a smoke?" I suggest. Naomi nods.

As we both sit on the doorstep of my house, sharing my last joint, I notice that Naomi has calmed down considerably. It could be the effects of what we're smoking, or maybe it's being in the company of someone who's just as much of a failure as she thinks she is. She looks down at the ground, deep in thought. She looks older than I remember, as if life has already taken its toll on her. She's still beautiful though, just in a different way. She seems smaller, softer than she used to be. I look away as she turns to face me.

"I'm not happy, Eff. I haven't been for a long time. I don't give a shit that I lost my job. I lost it because I stopped turning up. I stopped turning up because I stopped caring about the consequences, I just hated that place. And I have no friends. Nothing."

I frown. At least she has Emily. Emily, who loves her. Emily, her soulmate. It almost seems like she's just taking what she has for granted.

As if she can ready my thoughts, a look comes over her face. She hesitates., then looks me in the eye. "Emily and I haven't even had sex for the past four months."

I stutter. Okay, they had been together for over two years now. I know as well as the next person that the honeymoon period doesn't last forever. But four months? Jesus, my mum was getting it more than them. I shudder, shaking that thought from my mind. I remember being almost grossed out when Emily and Naomi first got together. They were all over each other like a rash. And now this…

"Okay." I say evenly. "So what are you going to do to change that? Have you tried talking to her about it?"

Naomi crosses her arms, avoiding my gaze.

"No. Yes. Kind of."

I wait impatiently for her to explain.

"She's tried to speak to me about it." She says, a single tear rolling down her face. "I'm the one with the problem."

I wonder what she could mean. Has she cheated on her, and caught an STD? I somehow doubt it. Erectile dysfunction? I guess that would be pretty impossible. What problems could lesbians have? I wonder, but think better of asking.

"Do you still fancy her?"

She nods, although she doesn't seem so sure.

Without thinking too much into it, I put my hand in hers. She feels clammy; sweaty and cold at the same time. We sit there together for a while, without needing to speak. I've never been a big one for physical contact, especially with other girls. But I wanted to make a connection, to sow Naomi that I understood her without having to try and find the right words. Eventually she has to go back home, to face the music with Emily. As I say goodbye to her, she asks if she could come back tomorrow. I nod, absent mindedly.

As I watch her walk away, I can hear it again. I go to turn the television on loud, to drown out the sound of my mum banging someone young enough to be her son. It's bad enough that she fucking someone who I went to school with, but I could do without having to listen to it.