The Story of a Dying Girl

Hey. Thank you so much for reviewing, following, favoriting, and reading this story! It really does mean a lot to me. I'm almost done with the ninth chapter of this story. I just wanted to say that as the story goes on, for a few chapters, the cancer is not talked about a whole lot, and that is because I am writing this from Naomi's point of view, and since Emily does not seem sick to her, she forgets that she is a lot of the time. Anyways, get ready for some Naomily in this chapter!

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4:

I woke up to birds chirping.

Not pleasantly like on TV, but apocalyptically.

Like, chirps of death.

But anyways.

I tried to throw the covers over my head, telling the birds to:

"Kindly fuck off."

But it didn't work, so I got out from under my sanctuary and walked into the bathroom, showering.

I walked back into my room, towel wrapped tightly around my body and started to change, wearing what I always wore, black jeans, a Joy Division t-shirt, and my jacket.

I grabbed my phone and texted Cook.

"Hanging out w/ Emily 2day, see u later?"

I got a response quickly.

"Emily again, huh? U sly dog, Naomio."

"Shut the fuck up James."

"How is ur willy wagging?"

"Shut."

"Is it fun?"

"The."

"I bet it was a lot of fun."

"Fuck."

"Nice one Naomikins."

"Up."

"We'll hang out 2day, Blondie, yeah?"

"Sounds good."

I laid down for a second, putting my hands behind my head and taking a deep breath.

"Naomi! Naomi!" I heard my mum call, not even a minute after I lied down.

I sat up and walked downstairs into the kitchen.

"Yeah mum?"

She shoved the newspaper in my face like an excited six year old showing their parents their art project, which was just a blob of crayon colors scratched chaotically onto unsuspecting paper.

Poor, old paper. It never even saw it coming.

Probably because paper doesn't have eyes.

I grabbed the newspaper and held it not as close to my face.

"'Bristol Fair, Saturday. Come and have a swinging good time! Tickets cost ten dollars each,'" I read aloud.

"Okay…So…?" I asked.

"So? You should go! Take Emily!" Mum said enthusiastically.

"Okay…"

"Have fun!"

And that's how our conversation went.

Well that, and she gave me money.

So all in all, it went pretty well.

My phone rung the second I got back upstairs.

I don't know why I can't just have a moment of peace and quiet, from the fucking demon birds to my overly enthusiastic mum, to now my needy as fuck phone.

I sighed over dramatically, like a bad actress in one of the shitty movies Cook and I watch.

I lied down on my bed and answered before checking who was calling.

"Hello?"

"Hey Naomi!" I heard a husky voice and I bolted upright, sitting up energetically.

"Hi Emily."

How'd she get my number?

"I got your number from your mum."

Can she read my mind? Also, I should probably talk to mum about giving my number out.

"Oh… Kay."

"So what are we doing today?"

"… Uh… I'm not really sure," I said and scratched the back of my neck sheepishly.

"No ideas? None at all?"

I feel like there was a right answer here, I'm just not entirely sure what it is.

"There's a carnival tonight?"

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner. So what time are we going?"

"Ummm… I don't know."

"Pick me up at six thirty then?"

"Sure?"

"Great! See you then!"

"Okay… Bye."

I looked at my phone, asking it what the hell had just happened.

'Cause I didn't have a fucking clue.

I glanced over at the clock on my bedside table.

7:47

"Fuck it! I'm going to Cook's."

I walked down to Cook's, hands in my pockets lost in my thoughts about Emily.

It was so easy to forget she was sick.

I forgot.

Maybe she wasn't sick.

I didn't really know anymore. I remember when my great aunt, Tina died. I was little, and she was old.

She had gray hair and a lot of wrinkles. And she always smiled at me, even if I hadn't really done anything great.

I felt like I didn't deserve her smile sometimes, because to me, it was odd.

I could break a vase by mistake and she would still smile and I had no idea why.

She had moved in after dad had left, and I remember how strange it was.

Mum never smiled anymore, and instead, this old lady I had never really known was smiling a lot.

I didn't really get it.

But I didn't really get a lot of things, like why dad wasn't there to smile.

I still don't really get that.

I remember that I started to hang out around Tina more and more, and I kept on forgetting that she was very old, and that she was slowly dying before my eyes.

I kept forgetting that she couldn't see my "impressive" drawings because she was losing her eyesight.

I kept forgetting that she couldn't play with my toys with me because she was losing control of her hands.

And I remember when she started watching me instead of playing with me and when she stopped reading stories to me because she could no longer make out the words on the page.

And I remember when she died and when mum had motioned me into the kitchen after it all happened, telling me that she had left me something.

I was so curious as to what it was, and then my mum pulled out an old necklace.

And I remember feeling conflicting emotions.

I was thankful that I was given something from a woman who was dear to me, but I was kind of confused.

I didn't like jewelry, so why did she give me a necklace?

How could someone I loved so much, not really know me?

And that bothered me for a while, because I had forgotten that she was sick, and that she did not really remember me too well towards the end.

Someone I loved so much didn't really know me.

She had begun to forget me, like an old memory from a ripped photograph in a dusty frame.

I kept forgetting that Emily was sick because she didn't act sick.

And it was so easy to forget that she had cancer.

Or maybe it was because I wanted to forget she had cancer.

I made my way to Cook's house and opened the door.

Cook sat on the couch, Paddy next to him, and their mum was nowhere to be found, like usual.

I plopped down next to him, and he immediately passes me the box of cereal he was eating from, turning up the volume on the TV.

"Aaron, come on down!"

I watched as Drew Carey called down the man apparently named Aaron to guess the price of a grill.

"$299.99," Paddy said.

Paddy had a knack for guessing these things. How he did it, I'll never know.

Aaron, however did not.

He guessed $70, dead serious and with all the confidence in the world.

"The grill's actual price is $299.99!"

Paddy smiled a kind of content, proud grin.

Cook reached into his back pocket and slapped a dollar down into Paddy's hand.

We stayed like this for a bit, until the clock hit 11:30.

"Can we go to the park?" Paddy asked, seven dollars bills in a neat pile in his small hand.

"Sure you little hustler," I said and picked him up, giving him a piggyback as he squealed and Cook opened the door.

I made horse noises, the same noises I had made ever since I was little when Paddy would get a piggyback from me.

Cook walked next to me and we made our way down to the same park that we had eaten ice cream with Emily.

I sat down at the same park bench as Paddy ran ahead, going up to the playground and beginning to climb up the slide, seeing how far he could make it before he would slip and slide all the way down.

Cook reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, offering me one, which I accepted.

"So, you're hanging out with Red again today." He smirked.

"Yeah."

"You like her."

"Of course I do, I wouldn't be hanging out with her if I didn't," I said like it was obvious because it was.

"No, you… like like her."

This was news to me.

"No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Think about it Naomio. Even I can see it."

"Well, you must be blind then. I don't like Em-"

I was cut off by a loud shriek.

Cook and I both glanced over to the playground where Paddy lay on the ground as some lad a couple years older began hitting his face as another one laughed.

"Oh fuck no," Cook said and he stubbed out his cigarette, launching himself up from the bench and beginning to run as I followed close behind.

Just like Mr. Fitch was protective of his daughters, Cook was protective of Paddy.

The boy never saw it coming, only unlike paper, the boy had eyes.

Cook grabbed the boy on top of Paddy by the back of his shirt and pulled him back, hard. He tumbled backwards as Cook slammed him up against the slide.

The other boy tried to run, but to no avail. I grabbed his arm and pulled him into me, twisting his arm behind his back as Paddy got up from the ground and began to maniacally smile.

Neither Cook or I wanted to hurt these kids, but you have to understand, we were pissed.

"You like beating up my little bro?" Cook asked his fist inches from the boys face as he squirmed.

Cook lowered his fist but stopped it centimeters away from his face.

"Answer me or I will beat the shit out of you!"

The boys were about fourteen or fifteen, I couldn't really tell.

"No. I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me!" He shrieked out.

Cook turned back to me.

"What do you think Naomikins?" He asked me, grinning evilly.

I tightened my grip on the boy's arm, hearing him shriek a bit.

I didn't want to hurt him, but glancing over at Paddy's bloody nose made me want to slam this kid into the ground.

"It's up to Paddy," I said finally.

Cook laughed.

Paddy walked around between the boys, enjoying his new power.

He walked up to the one I was holding. He looked like he was about to forgive him, tell me to let him go.

Instead he brought his foot back and kicked him in the balls.

He fell to his knees and let out a groan as Paddy walked up to the other one and did the same.

I let go of the boy who was now on the ground trying to clutch his balls with his one free hand.

"Hey! Hey! What are you doing? Those are my sons!"

Cook and I looked up to see a large man running at a quick speed towards us.

Maybe we could have stayed and explained, but from where he was, it looked like we were some awful older kids, who just wanted to hurt his sons.

From where we were, it looked like some hulk impersonator wanted to kick our asses.

So what did we do?

We grabbed Paddy and ran.

The hulk impersonator, I'll call him Steve, grumbled loudly and began to chase after us, his two sons in close pursuit.

Paddy was on Cook's back as we cut through the woodland area near the park, crashing into underbrush and getting smacked by branches as the man followed closely behind us.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Cook cried loudly as we jumped over roots.

The man did not give up, running quickly, his sons trying to keep up.

The woodland area suddenly cleared out to reveal a sidewalk, and Cook and I turned left, feet pounding against the pavement, trying to outrun them.

"Get back here!" Hulk 2.0 shouted.

I never understood why people shouted that. Was I supposed to stop because they said that? Just like, oops, sorry sir, you're right, I'll stop running so you can beat the piss out of me.

I mean, really?

We ran, swinging our legs and trying to run faster than we already were, panting and sweating.

The man continued, but was farther and farther behind as he couldn't keep up, and Cook and I were used to running.

If you're friends with James Cook, you're bound to get into some trouble, which warrants being able to run fast.

I start to laugh, even though we aren't completely in the clear.

I think back to Emily, who laughed after producing a hidden bottle of vodka and sitting down with a mischievous look in her eyes.

The man gets farther and farther away until we can't see him at all, and I have a good feeling we're in the clear.

We run anyway though, because we can hear him call out behind us, and we know he's still pissed.

The gruff voice becomes more faded and we stop after cutting into someone's backyard.

We keep quiet for a minute until we can no longer hear his booming voice and break into laughter. It's loud and relieved and nervous, but it just keeps going. We find ourselves doubled over and wheezing, more because of the fear coursing through our bodies than anything else.

We continued until we just got quieter and quieter and were down to a couple of chuckles and coughs.

I examined myself.

My shirt had two large holes on it's front from where the branches had caught it. In those spots I had scrapes, red but not bleeding. My jacket was fine and I looked at Cook and Paddy.

Cook had a cut lip and his shirt was muddy and Paddy was clutching his bloody nose, but was otherwise unscathed.

Our clothes clung to us with sweat and I got the feeling I would need to take a second shower before I went out with Emily.

I pulled out my phone, checking the time.

12:03.

"I don't know about you guys, but I want some fucking ice cream," Cook said and looked at Paddy who nodded enthusiastically as the blood continued to come down from his nose, staining his teeth.

"Jesus Paddy, those little pricks were fucking violent," I said, glancing at him as he continued to wipe at the blood, trying to get it to stop.

"Yeah mate. Listen, if any fuckers mess with you again, just let me know and I'll take care of them. Got it?" Cook asked, picking up Paddy under his arm as he laughed.

"Okay."

"We should probably do something about your nose," I said and stared at it, as if willing the blood to stop.

"I got it!" Cook said and took off his shirt, giving it to Paddy who used it to try and stop the gush of red pouring out of his nose.

We walked to the convenient store, all the while looking around, waiting for the big scary man and his two shitty little sons to pop out.

Nothing.

The same man sat at the counter, giving us disgusted looks that would have made Mr. Dirken proud.

We marched to the back and pulled out whatever we desired: Cook went for the much lusted after fudgesicle, Paddy went over the classic Klondike bar, and I went for the ice cream sandwich.

I smiled as I grabbed it because I remembered the last time I was here, Emily to my left, reaching to grab one, too.

We walked up to the man at the counter.

"You gonna give me the money in pennies and crumpled dollar bills again, kid?"

That was what he said to me. Not hello, not hi. That.

"You gonna remember that specifically because you do not have anything better to do that tease kids who actually have lives, rather than you, who is just a complete and utter fucking asshole."

That was what I wanted to say.

What I did instead was ignore the neatly folded bills mum had given me in my pocket and instead, spend ten minutes digging around in all my pockets while Cook and Paddy did the same, as the man continued giving us dirty looks.

"For fuck's sake, took you long enough," he said after his money had been produced.

We walked around, eating and talking through bites, Paddy's bloody nose having stopped.

We made our way back to Cook's house, where we opened the door and plopped ungracefully onto the couch.

I checked my phone.

2:09.

Paddy went into his room, declaring he was tired and wanted to take a nap.

"You like her, though," Cook said and I immediately knew who he was talking about.

"I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"I don't, Cook."

"Alright… if you're sure."

"I'm positive."

But I wasn't.

Looking back at it, I started to wonder.

I liked spending time with her, just being with her. I thought she was beautiful. I wanted to be around her.

I don't know.

But I decided not to think about it.

I sat back and relaxed, the clock ticking by as effortlessly as our conversation flowed.

I took out my phone again, neurotically checking the time once again.

5:42.

I decided I should go, and bid Cook a quick goodbye, walking out the door and walking quickly back to mine.

I got home and ran up the stairs, shedding my ripped t-shirt and the rest of my clothing and jumping in the shower, trying to hurry.

I let the warm water soothe the cuts I had accumulated today and threw my head back and the gentle sensation that coursed through my body.

I got out and wrapped an old towel tight around my body, looking at myself in the mirror.

I did that odd thing that I think most people usually do when they stare at themselves in the mirror, or that I'd at least like to think that most people do when they look at themselves in the mirror.

I stretched my face around and prodded at it with my curious fingers, poking my cheeks and almost asking myself, "Is that me? Woah… cool."

After a minute of occupying myself idiotically with a mirror and my face, I walked into my room, changing into basically the same thing as before, with just a new shirt, bra, and pair of girly boxers.

I checked the time, 6:17.

I walked down the stairs and out the door, my feet navigating me to Emily's house like they had a mind of their own.

I found myself in front of her bright red door quickly, knocking on the door and expecting another tight hug from Mrs. Fitch, but rather finding Mr. Fitch on the other side.

"Hello Naomi. You're a little bit early, come inside kiddo!" He waved me in and I stuck my hands in my pocket walking in after him.

"Sit down," he said smiling and motioned to the same couch his wife had spent so much time crying on.

I sat down nervously as Mr. Fitch flashed me a very large smile.

This one was not genuine and I was not sure why.

I looked anywhere but him, glancing at pictures that hung neatly on the walls and anything other than Mr. Fitch and his scarily bright white teeth.

"Naomi."

His tone was serious and I glanced at him.

"Yes sir?"

I didn't think calling him rob was a very good idea.

"If you hurt her, I will hunt you down like a dog and they will be finding pieces of your body in rivers across the world."

Well that escalated quickly.

Also, who were they?

I had a flashback of Scotty Renold's black eyes and broken foot.

"This… it's not… it's not a date."

I was sweating more than I was this morning when I ran away from the hulk wannabe.

I guess I was nervous when dealing with big strong men who wanted to beat me up.

"Sure…"

He wasn't convinced and I wasn't entirely sure why.

"Emily! Naomi's here!" He called up the stairs and Emily came hurrying down the stair in jeans and a flowy top.

"Hey," she said and smiled as I sat up and grinned.

"Back by 10:00," Mr. Fitch said and I nodded quickly.

We walked out the door, Emily practically dragging me as we began to walk towards where the carnival was.

I looked over at Emily, and realized how nice she looked.

Her top was pretty and somehow managed to flow and cling to her body and her jeans were tight, and made her ass look really good.

Not that I was looking at her ass.

I wasn't.

I was looking at the… label, yep, the label.

That's what I was doing.

Not staring at her ass.

I did not do that.

That would have been not right to do.

So I did not.

Didn't look at her ass.

Just to be clear.

Her hair flowed down to her shoulders and her smile was illuminating the now darkening sky.

It was bright and genuine and she looked back at me, reaching behind her and grabbing onto my arm, yanking me closer.

She started to move around excited and I smiled, watching as the bright colors of the fair came into view.

"Don't be a slowpoke!" And with that she grabbed my hand, pulling me and starting to run as I followed at her will behind.

"Come on!" She called once again and I hurried up, coming to an abrupt stop as we reached the back of the rapidly moving line.

"What should we do first? Play games? Go on the ferris wheel? Cotton candy? What?" She was practically hopping from one foot to the other, and that's when I looked down and noticed what I hadn't before.

Our hands were still linked, fitting together in an odd, but seemingly familiar way, even though I'm not sure how that's possible.

It felt good.

Like when she laughed at my jokes, or when she kissed my cheek, or when she looked into my eyes and smiled.

I didn't really understand why it felt so good though.

"Money please?" The woman who had a bright smile and tired, but kind eyes said, breaking me from my thoughts as I pulled $20 dollars from my pocket and she pulled out two tickets.

"Two tickets for the cute couple," she grinned.

"Oh… no, we're not a… we're just…" I began to say, but was interrupted by Emily.

"Thank you," she said and grabbed the tickets from the woman and we walked inside.

"Ooh, what should we do first?" She asked and I smiled brightly, but a little confused.

I wasn't really sure why she didn't correct the woman, but I guess it doesn't really matter.

Her stomach rumbled loudly and I laughed.

"I guess we're gonna get some food first."

We walked around, looking for something that sounded good.

Her hand was still attached to mine.

"Here!" She abruptly pulled me to a corndog stand.

The line moved quickly, just like the ticket queue.

"I'll take one corndog please," Emily said and the man handed one to her. She began to take money out of her pocket, but I batted it away, giving him mine instead.

"Go sit down. I'll be there in a second," I said as she smiled and walked off to go claim one of the tables nearby.

I already missed the feeling of her hand in mine.

"Can I have one, actually make that two corndogs please?"

"Of course," the man said and handed me what I asked for.

I maneuvered the money out of my pocket and gave him the bills, awkwardly holding the corndogs as I spotted Emily at a nearby table, already almost done with hers.

I walked over to her and sat down, just as she ate the last bit.

"Thank you for paying, but you shouldn't have. You paid for the tickets!"

"I wanted to."

I did.

I handed her one of the corndogs in my hand and she gave me a confused look, but began to eat it quickly anyways.

"Why'd you get me another one?" She said as I took a bite of mine.

"Oh please. You're Emily! One corndog would never be enough," I said simply.

She looked up into my eyes.

She was giving me an odd look. Like, almost adoration or something.

Why was she looking at me like that?

"How did you know?" She asked softly, but I wasn't sure why.

It was just a corndog.

"It's easy. I remember everything about you. You're middle name is Diane. Your favorite flowers are lilies. You like tea better than coffee but you don't even really like tea, only the cinnamon ones because they remind you of Christmas. Katie is six minutes older than you. The first time you rode a bike you were so proud because you learned before Katie did and she was jealous. Your dad was the one who taught you how to tie your shoes. There's a lot more," I said, taking another bite.

Her look was even stranger.

Were those tears in her eyes?

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Why was she tearing up?

"Yeah… I'm just surprised you remember all that about me," she said and sniffed softly.

"Of course I do," I said simply and took the last bite as she tried her now gone tears.

"You ready?" I asked as we threw the sticks away.

"Yeah!" She smiled.

"Where to first? It is… 6:57… the night is young!"

"I vote for cotton candy."

"Cotton candy it is!" I said and she grabbed my hand again, swinging it back and forth between us.

Minutes later, pink cotton candy was being held in her had as she enthusiastically pulled a piece off, popping it into her mouth.

"Want some?" She said through a mouth full.

"Sure," I laughed and suddenly she shoved a piece into my mouth.

I laughed louder.

We walked around for a little, until she stopped me once again.

"Look at it Naoms," she said.

Naoms? Feeding me? Holding my hand?

What was happening?

And why did I like it so much?

She pointed at a large stuffed dog hanging at one of the game booths.

And now I had a goal.

Just like those stupid old movies.

I wanted to win that stupid stuffed dog for her.

Even if I spent all of the money I had.

I walked up to the booth and the man there already looked way too slick for my liking.

"Five dollars, step right up! All you have to do is knock down the milk jugs! Three balls for five dollars!"

I slapped down five dollars wordlessly and he handed me three balls.

I took the first one and threw it hard, hitting off the top milk jug in the pyramid of six.

I tired again, missing the pyramid barely.

I took a deep breath as Emily watched closely behind.

I missed.

The man grinned.

"Wanna try again?"

I did.

And once again, I couldn't do it. I knocked down 3 of them, I couldn't manage to hit the middle spot.

I tried again.

"Naomi. It's okay," Emily called behind me, but I had a goal.

Emily Fitch would have that stupid fucking stuffed dog.

"Wanna play again?" The man asked and I was getting pissed.

I slapped down another five dollars and he handed he three balls.

The first two were close misses.

I looked behind me and took a deep breath, throwing the last ball, hard.

The jugs toppled over, all of them falling to the ground, making large thuds.

The man looked up surprised.

"Now give me that fucking stuffed dog," I said as Emily squealed excitedly behind me.

The man wordlessly grabbed the huge creature and passed it down to my waiting arms.

I tucked it best I could under my arm and walked over to Emily, smugly handing her the dog as she used her other hand to grab my hand.

I checked the time.

7:23.

I looked over at Emily, who shuddered.

"Are you okay?" I asked as she turned to me.

"Yeah, I just wish I had brought a jacket or something."

I looked at her top again.

Did it look good?

Yes.

Did it keep her warm?

No.

There was obviously something that I needed to do here, I'm just not sure what it is.

The jacket. Give her your jacket Naomi. Wonder Years style.

Jesus I'm stupid.

I slipped my arms out from my army jacket and grabbed the dog from her, positioning it awkwardly between my legs as I draped the jacket over her shoulders.

She smiled warmly and put it on properly.

It was big on her, and I smiled.

I passed her the dog and gingerly grabbed her hand again.

"Where to next, Fitch?"

"I don't know, maybe we should- there!" And once again Emily pulled me abruptly.

This time it was a small face-painting booth that currently sat forgotten like the freezer in the back of the convenience store.

"We have to get out faces painted!"

"No we don't," I said.

"Yes we do!" And with that she pulled me towards the booth, where the young woman inside perked up immediately and flashed a big smile at us.

"Aww, the lovely couple wants their faces painted?"

"Oh no, we're not a couple," I said simply.

"Yeah," Emily said kinda weakly and I glanced over at her.

She looked disappointed almost, but maybe it was because of something else.

It was probably because of something else.

"Alright, which one of you wants to go first?" She asked, breaking the awkward silence that had formed.

"I will," Emily said and sat down in the chair.

"And what do you want?"

"A cat?"

"A cat it is!"

And the woman began to enthusiastically draw on whiskers and a dark nose among other cat things.

"That's a hell of a prize you got there," the woman said while dabbing some more paint onto Emily's face.

"Thanks. Naomi won it. Took her a while," she laughed.

"It didn't take that long," I said defensively.

"How much did you spend Naomi?" Emily asked.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"How much?"

"Twenty dollars," I said quietly.

"How much?"

"Twenty dollars," I said louder.

"Alright, done!" The woman said proudly, too proudly for my liking.

She wasn't bloody Picasso, she painted a fucking cat on someone's face.

"Your turn," Emily said and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the seat.

"Uh, no thanks… I'm… I don't want anything."

"Oh come on Nomi!" Emily pouted and I looked up at her, laughing at the long whiskers that now covered her face.

"A pirate?" I said finally as the woman smiled.

"Coming up matey!"

Matey?

Please, someone use my hook hand to claw at my ears so I didn't have to hear to pirate catchphrases bound to come.

"Argh! Walk the plank!" The woman said giving me a way-too-excited smile.

I heard Emily stifle a laugh.

She continued to dab black paint around my left eye before she ceremoniously released my face and cried out a clichéd, "Voila!"

I looked up at Emily, who smiled toothily and grabbed my hand as I pulled money out of my pocket, giving the woman a tip even though I didn't really want to.

That sounds mean.

She was just aggressively nice.

Is that a thing?

Can that be a thing?

I feel like that's a thing.

Anyways.

Sorry, I get off topic a lot.

We walked around, bright lights flashing everywhere in a beautiful blur.

I looked at rigged games and rides guaranteed to leave your stomach in your throat.

I glanced to my right and saw a large, neon orange sign.

Bumper cars.

I pulled on Emily's hand. The jacket was a bit big on me, so her hand didn't even make it out of the sleeve, just a few fingers poking out.

She had to shove the sleeves back.

She looked over to me.

"Bumper cars?" She asked excitedly as I nodded and pulled her into the queue.

The line mostly consisted of either hormonal teenage boys or the occasional group of girls. And then there would be couples, older than us and making out heavily, practically shoving each other into the railing as the boys watched and whispered among themselves.

"They remind me of my little brother James," Emily whispered in my ear, her warm, unexpected breath perking me up.

"They remind me of my James," I said, thinking back to Cook as Emily laughed.

The line moved forward as Emily rested her head on my shoulder, and once again, I became very aware of just how close in proximity we were.

"Five dollars please," the bored man at the front said as I shoved my right hand into my pocket and dug up a five dollar bill.

This was one of the only times in my life where I didn't have to search all of my pockets to find the exact amount I needed, and I gotta say, it was pretty nice not to have to piss off the person who accepted my money and all the people behind me who were anxiously waiting.

Emily set her dog down in the section where you could leave your possessions when trying to ram your car into others for the sake of fun and violence.

I walked over the slippery surface, bending over my tall frame into a blue car with the number six painted in bright red on the right side.

I watched as Emily positioned herself in a car just a few away from mine and she smirked at me, clearly confident in her abilities to smash my car.

And before I realized what had happened, my car had been rammed by some snotty kid who was now eagerly fleeing and I realized that this "battle" had commenced and shit was about to go down.

I hit the gas and slammed into some unsuspecting perve and backed up quickly ramming into one of the couples.

But neither were my target.

I real target had just slammed into one of the giggling girls whom was in the line with us.

I watched as her red hair whipped around as she drove away, onto her next victim, unsuspecting as I hit the gas petal. Hard.

My car rammed straight into hers and I watched as a look of recognition passed over her features.

"Ohhh, I'm so getting you back Campbell!"

And what did I do?

Did I stand my ground?

Did I challenge her?

No.

I drove away and started fleeing from her like the same snotty kid had done to me.

"Get over here Naomi!"

I continued to drive away, wheeling in and out between the chaos that was happening, the end result being a large cluster fuck of havoc in the middle.

And just as I continued to escape like a five year old in trouble for not eating their vegetables, the ride shut off, and I climbed out as Emily walked over to me, punching me playfully in the shoulder.

I realized for the first time just how cold it was as Emily grabbed her stuffed dog and tucked him under her arm cautiously, like she was afraid of hurting it.

It was bitter and stung as my skin, pricking it unpleasantly.

But I would rather be cold than let Emily feel this terrible sensation.

We continued to walk around, my right hand swinging around without a purpose, just as Emily grabbed it and held it, just as cautiously as she held the big ass prize.

We continued walking around, laughing and pointing out all the different rides and attractions.

I liked it.

Just being with her.

I don't really know where all this is coming from.

But in a way I guess I do.

I've always like spending time with her.

It's not a big deal.

I brought out my phone again, checking the time.

8:57.

"This, this… we have to ride the ferris wheel!" Emily broke me out of my thoughts about time, and how if I got Emily home a minute after ten, my mum would have to start planning a funeral, or some kinda hippie ceremony.

We walked to the back of the long line.

I watched the people who passed by, smiling and laughing and more often than not with small prizes tucked underneath their arms.

The line moved gradually, and the people passed by easily.

All except for one.

She couldn't have been older than nine.

She was asleep in her father's arms as he carried her passed us, her head leaning onto his shoulder as his other strong arm was occupied with holding many large prizes.

She was bald and her skin was sickly pale.

I adverted my eyes, hoping Emily wouldn't follow my eyesight, but I was out of luck. She had spotted the little girl long before I had.

Her eyes watched her and I saw a twinkle of sadness in her eyes.

"She's so young," Emily whispered as the line surged forward and we climbed into a sealed cart, and began to move upward.

"She looked so pale. So sick," she said again and closed her eyes, sniffling and we continued to move towards the sky.

"I'm gonna be like that too…"

I watched as her eyes were pricked with tears and very suddenly things had become very serious and I had no idea what to do.

"She's just so young. So sick."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I heard a sniffle.

I looked back at Emily after trying to look literally anyway else. I was in silent panic mode.

She was crying, tears falling freely and here I was, some silent, clueless twat who sat next to the girl coming to a very dark realization.

I had managed to forget that Emily was sick, and the worst part was, I think she had forgotten it too.

And now she was reminded.

And boy was she reminded.

I looked down and tried to spot the little girl, and I thought I saw, down far below, and I came to a realization.

Here I was, complaining that I was clueless as to how to deal with Emily crying next to me, while that little girl was fighting cancer.

I was a massive fucking twat.

And a wave of sadness crashed over me.

She was so young.

Emily was so young.

But I don't think it would any better if they were 35 or if they were 67, or if they were 89.

They were always too young.

I would always think of them as too young, no matter their age.

"Oh god."

My attention was suddenly snapped back to the crying girl.

I lifted my arm cautiously, wrapping it around her shoulders and pulling her closer to me as she accepted my gesture completely, clinging to me and wetting my t-shirt with tears, burying her head into her shoulder.

"Emily… Emily…"

Was I supposed to say that it was okay?

Because it wasn't.

It wasn't okay.

It was complete and utter shit.

"Emily. You're gonna… you're gonna kick cancer's ass, alright?"

She laughed a bit, shaky breaths being released into my shoulder.

"I mean, it's not gonna know what's coming. It's just gonna be in for a shit show."

More shaky, unstable laughs.

"You're so fucking strong though, I mean, really, cancer is just in for one hell of a fucking surprise."

The girl who had never cried when everyone around her did was now crying fully and completely and I held her and gently pressed my lips to the stop of her head, trying to soothe her.

But how do you comfort someone?

There was probably a simple answer, but me being me, I didn't know it.

And finally her tears subsided and she removed her head from my shoulder, mascara streaked down her cheeks, the cat whiskers a blurry mess.

"Oh god. I must look like a mess right now," she said unsteadily.

She began to frantically wipe at her face, but I couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked.

I slowly grabbed her hands, putting them to ease, and pulling them down into her lap.

"You look… absolutely stunning," I said completely seriously.

She looked up at me, straight into my eyes, smiling shyly.

"Thank you," she whispered.

She had an odd look on her face.

It was like she wanted me to kiss her or something.

Wait.

Hold on a minute.

Did she want me to kiss her?

No.

There was no way that Emily Fitch would want me, Naomi Campbell, to kiss her.

The ride came to an end and we got off, she instantly sought after my hand, claiming it in her own.

I checked the time again.

9:39.

We walked out of the fair, her clutching her dog tightly.

Why did she look at me like that?

Why did she call me cute, coupley nicknames?

Why did we hold hands?

Why did she feed me?

Why did she always look at my lips?

Why didn't she correct the woman at the entrance?

All these thoughts were coursing through my brain, pestering and pestering me as we walked home in silence.

Here's the thing about silence:

It's a trap.

Cue Star Wars impersonation.

It's uncomfortable and you try to break it, and just make things worse.

It's comfortable and you bask in it, before overthinking it, and feeling the need to talk, and making things uncomfortable in the process.

And so as we walked in silence, I felt the need to break it.

"So what do we name it?" I blurted out.

"What?" Emily looked over to me, confused.

"The dog. What do you want to name it?"

Stupid choice of conversation Naomi.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Emily seemed to be lost in her thoughts about possible names.

"What about Carny, you know, for carnival?" She said finally.

I smiled brightly.

"I think it's perfect."

We continued to walk back, her face still a mess, but somehow incredibly beautiful.

We reached her doorstep and I checked the time.

9:48

No black eyes or broken bones for me.

"I had a really good time tonight," Emily said, as she took off my army jacket and passed it back to me.

"Me too."

I put my jacket back on and looked at her.

She still had that look on her face.

Did she want me to?

Maybe I should.

Do it Naomi.

Just kiss her.

Just do it.

Don't be a fucking chicken, kiss her!

"Um, so… I'll see you on Monday," I said and couldn't help but notice how she instantly looked sadder and kind of disappointed.

"Yeah," she said softly and I turned around beginning to walk away.

Kiss her.

Kiss her.

Kiss her!

Kiss her!

In life, there are only so many opportunities.

Eventually, you will be given one, and if you do not take it, sometimes it will haunt you.

Sometimes all you need is to say fuck it.

How many times in life will I be presented the opportunity to kiss Emily Fitch, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen?

I wasn't about to find out.

I turned around and walked back quickly.

"Emily!"

She turned around from where she was about to open the door.

"Are you okay?" She asked, but I didn't respond.

I cupped her paint-stained face in my hands, and kissed her.

Her lips were gentle and she responded immediately, her lips moving and her hands pulling at my collar, trying to move me closer to her.

I moved my hands down to her hips and deepened the kiss, swiping my tongue against her bottom lip ever so gently, asking for permission, which was granted very quickly.

Her tongue brushed softly against mine, and I heard a small, husky moan.

We pulled away, her hands still bunched, gripping my collar, and my hands still on her hips.

Carny was on the ground, forgotten for the moment.

"Woah," I breathed out, and immediately felt incredibly dorky.

She smiled, brightly, rivaling all the stars in the sky combined.

"I was wondering when you would do that, you space cadet."

Her face was slightly more smudged, my pirate paint obviously having smeared off on her a bit.

She picked up Carny and opened the door, waving to me as I stood on her doorstep, not entirely sure what had just happened. I felt dizzy, from the top of my head to my toes.

"Woah," I said again.

I just snogged Emily Fitch.

Her lips were on mine.

She wanted me to kiss her.

I smiled a large, kind of crazy smile and ran into the street, jumping up and down kinda cheesily.

I was kinda dancing and kinda jumping, running down the street, smiling.

I made it back to my house quickly, running straight there and hoping the door easily, practically jumping up the stairs.

I made it to my room, kicking off my shoes, and taking off my jacket.

I took off my shirt and bra and jeans, and threw another shirt back on, climbing into bed, and staring straight above at the ceiling, and still smiling.

I tried to shut my eyes, but it was no use, I was just too excited.

And when my eyelids finally did droop, my last thoughts were of Emily and how soft her lips where when they were against mine.

Hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter will be posted on Tuesday or Wednesday, but most likely Tuesday. Let me know what you thought.

Thank you so much for reading!