Author's Notes

This chapter was difficult for me to write, and required many walks in the cold. Yes, we're finally leaving the church of drugs. The thing you should know about LSD is that it's like being born, living that life, and dying, all within the span of your trip. I'd rather not answer the "have you done it?" question definitively, which probably gives you an answer, anyway. Oh, yeah, I've also thrown one of those parties, though on a much smaller scale. We only had a house at our disposal.

Warnings: relationship growth with secondary characters, Psychologist!Effy, Drunk!Gina

Abnormally Attracted to Sin

Chapter 6: Battle of the Minds

By Persephone's Nautical Nun

I didn't sleep so much, as I rested with my thoughts. My body was tired, I could feel it. I was completely wiped, but my mind just never turned itself off. If I had been by myself, I would have been tossing and turning, and getting up and pacing, and getting back down, and I know I would have worn myself out even more.

So for that, I was glad that Emily kept me still.

I wish I knew how she managed to keep herself still.

I don't know how long I laid there in the near darkness, but eventually, a vibration next to her made Emily release her hold on me, and fumble with her phone.

I suddenly feel cold.

The display lights up her face, and in the rays I can see color spectrums. God, am I still tripping? I hope not.

Emily must have gotten a text message, because she starts to type on her phone. A few seconds later, she slides it into her pocket and leans over me. "Naomi," she says. "Where's your phone?" Her voice is gravelly from nonuse, and I feel a tingle shoot through my spine.

I grumble and roll over, fumbling in the darkness for my cell. I find it over by the wall. It's turned off. I show it to Emily, and she nods her approval before standing up. "Time to go," she says, reaching a hand out to me. I think it must be habit by now.

Except this time, I don't take it. I think I need to prove to myself that I'm back to normal, and can get up on my own. Last night felt like a soulquake. I need to get familiar with the aftermath.

She doesn't say anything about it. She doesn't react in any way. It's as though the fact that she just held me for a few hours, and saved me from myself never happened. She just turns, and leads me back through the many turns and twists we made last night, finding the stairs out of the catacombs easily, almost like she already knew the layout of the place.

Hold on.

Seriously?

"There you guys are!" Cook yells when he sees us enter the main hall. The whole group's already gathered there, and waiting on us so that we could go home. I wonder what time it is. It looks like it's early morning outside.

"Hey, Emily," Shane calls from the altar. "Gig Wednesday night. Interested?"

"Fuck yeah," she yells back to him, smiling. "Call me with the details."

He nods and throws her a thumbs up. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about him, yet. He seems kind of… greasy.

We all file out of the church and back into Cook's van. Everything's outlined in blue and red, and cast in a heavenly glow. I pull my phone out to discover that it's eight in the morning. Were Emily and I really only down there for four hours?

Everyone's silent on the ride back to town. I guess we're all exhausted. I have every intention of marching straight up to my room when I get home and sleeping until I have to wake up for class tomorrow morning. That's all there is to it.

I'm the first to get dropped off, because I was going to be the first to get picked up. I stumble out of the van, and turn to close the door, but Emily stops me. "Could you hold on for a second?" she asks Cook. She doesn't bother to wait for an answer, though. She climbs out after me, meeting me halfway up my walkway. "That doesn't count, you know," she says to me, hands in her pockets.

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused. I don't have the brain capacity for this right now.

"Last night didn't count," she says again. "As your some other time."

I stare at her dumbly because it seems like such a left-field thing to say. Apparently, apologizing wasn't enough. I actually had to keep the suggested rain check. Well, it's only fair, I guess. I wondered if I gave off the impression that I thought last night was said rain check. I don't know.

I'm not even sure what the requirements are for hanging out with her. "Okay," I say, because there's nothing else worth saying.

"Okay," she says, standing up straighter and turning to go back to the van. "You should eat something," she says over her shoulder as she's walking away.

Sure thing. Right after my coma.

*****

Some people use the weekend to recover from the week. I use the week to recover from the weekend. I think I was literally fucked up every waking moment this past weekend, and now that it's Monday, I really regret it. I'm still not feeling one hundred percent when I wake up.

I think about skipping. It would be so easy to just stay in bed. Still, I force myself up and out the door. I don't feel hung over, and I'm very sober. The sun seems brighter than I remember it, but that's probably just my eyes playing tricks on me. I just feel used up.

It's because I haven't caught up on my sleep. I can tell I'm going to be doing a lot of that this week.

I can't concentrate in class, and I really wish I could. I keep thinking back to my acid trip, and embarrassment washes over me. I acted like a complete idiot. Sure, everybody else did to, but I have this thing about maintaining dignity in every situation.

Don't show your ass in public, after all.

I shouldn't have needed babysitting like that.

But the fact shouldn't have needed it doesn't change the fact that I did, and Emily was a fantastic babysitter. She made the experience enjoyable, and showed me magic and wonders, and kept me from getting lost inside my own head by keeping me out of it.

She just seems to know about so many wonderful things that I never even think of.

I do all of the things in class that you're not supposed to do. I daydream out the window. I stare at the clock, trying to make time go faster. I check my phone for messages. There aren't any, of course, because everybody knows I'm class, and I usually bitch at people for texting me during those.

The best part about being in University, however, is that my professors don't give a shit.

I gather my things and make my way to the door as quietly as I can. I make eye contact with my professor, who nods once, and continues with his lecture. I'll have to schedule a time to go talk to him, to find out what I'm about to miss. He's usually pretty okay with that, though. It shows that I'm putting forth an effort even if I did leave halfway through class. I've never made a habit out of it. For all her knows, there could be an emergency.

I won't tell him that it's just because I can't concentrate on him.

I knew going to class was going to be useless.

I find an empty metal mesh picnic table in the courtyard between the business and science buildings, and make myself at home, lighting a cigarette. Finally quit smoking, my ass.

A small spot of blue on the ground catches my eye, and I go over to it. I pick it up and realize it's a plastic bottle cap. Great, now I'm playing with trash. I take it back to the table with me and set it on the surface. Wow. I must be more out of it than I thought.

I pick up my lighter and start playing with it, turning it over in my fingers. I lower it beneath the table and light it.

Hmm.

I move the flame under the bottle cap, and watch as a hold melts in the center of it. It catches fire, and I let the flame in the lighter go out. I watch, fascinated, as the flame spreads to the edges of the bottle cap, and melted plastic drips down to the ground.

Hey, I never said I wasn't easily amused.

"Ring of fire."

My head snaps to my left to find Effy standing a few feet away from me, cigarette in hand. I look back down to my bottle cap, only to discover the fire's already gone out. All that's left is a bright blue scar on the table. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?" I ask her without looking up.

"Just got out," she explains, sitting down next to me.

We sit in silence for a while and it feels familiar and comfortable. It was nice to have someone you could just sit with.

"This weekend was intense," she finally breaks the silence.

"Yeah," I say, putting out my cigarette on the bottom of my shoe. "Hey," I say, suddenly thinking of something. "You don't know anything about some kind of gig Emily has on Wednesday, do you?" I don't know why I asked Effy that. I don't know why I would have asked anybody that. It just kind of came out.

She shakes her head, taking a final drag on her cigarette. "JJ might know," she offers.

I nod, and I don't miss the look she's giving me. It's the "I know what you're hiding," look, which is funny, because I'm not hiding anything. Obviously.

"Did you really spend your entire trip with her?" she asks. Effy's been talking more than usual, and it's starting to get on my nerves.

"Well, she held my spliff hostage," I explain.

"Right," she says, looking across the courtyard. "I saw the way you were together."

"What way is that?" I ask, dully. I'm really not in the mood for mental chess right now.

"You let your guard down. You let her show you her world."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with experiencing new things, is there?" I ask, and quickly wish I hadn't.

She looks sharply at me, and I know I've just cornered myself. "No, there isn't," is all she says.

She gets up and throws her bag over her shoulder. "Got another class," she says. I nod. I actually had a pretty light term, and was actually finished for the day. I waved goodbye to her, and was left staring into my little blue scar.

I light another cigarette and scroll through the contacts in my phone, finally finding JJ's number. "Hey, Jay," I type into a new message. "Have a good weekend?"

Two drags later, my phone vibrates with his reply. "Oh, yes. I had a great weekend. You were there. At the party. That was something… How was yours?"

I smile over the fact that JJ can ramble, even in text. I expected nothing less. "Intense. Hey, you wouldn't happen to know if Emily's free on Wednesday, would you?"

A few minutes, then, "Why don't you ask Emily?"

"Because I'm asking you." Does he have to know everything all the time? Stop trying to overcomplicate things, JJ.

Or, maybe he was trying to simplify them.

"I'm not sure, but she said something about making an appearance at some place called Rain."

"Thank you, JJ."

I had never heard of the place before, but I figured I could easily find it by asking around, or looking online. You can get a map for just about anywhere, these days. Just another reason Generation Y has become Generation Why Bother. Everything's just so easily obtainable.

I've never had to work at anything in my life.

My phone vibrates again, and I jump, because I wasn't expecting another text message, especially from JJ. The "thank you" kind of ended the conversation, I thought. "You know, it's funny, she literally just told me about that. How did you know?"

I roll my eyes at my cell phone. Just stay out of it, JJ. "I didn't. That's why I asked you."

"Right. Okay."

I'm sure he doesn't believe me, but I don't respond to him. I'm already bored with this conversation.

There was no point in sticking around campus, I decided. I gathered up my things and started walking in the direction of my house. I didn't even make it out of the parking lot before a car pulled up beside me. "Want a ride?" Katie asks from behind the wheel.

Have I just stepped into the Twilight Zone?

I look around, like an idiot, because surely she's not talking to me. There must be some fit guy standing behind me that she's trying to mount. That's the only explanation I can come up with, except I can't seem to find the guy she's talking to.

Which, I guess, only leaves me.

"Yes, you," she says, annoyance laced in her voice. "Get in," she says.

When did the option get taken away from me?

Without a word, I open the door and slide into the passenger seat, taking special care to fasten my safety belt. You never know what can happen in situations like these, after all.

She starts to drive in the direction of my house, and we sit in silence for a few moments. I try to enjoy it because I know it won't last long. There's an agenda here. I can feel it. There's no way I'm going to let my guard down around Katie. It's a disaster waiting to happen.

Sure enough, Katie speaks, and I wish she would have just gotten right to the point. Do I really have to play this game? "What are you doing?" she asks me, her voice low and even.

Is she angry?

"What do you mean?" I ask, too tired to fight.

"What are you doing with Emily?" she clarifies.

I sigh and lean my head against the glass of the window. "You don't have to worry, Katie. Nothing's going on."

"That's exactly what I'm fucking worried about," she says, gritting her teeth.

Now, I'm confused. "I thought you hated even the idea of your sister with a girl. What the fuck is your problem?"

She pulls over so that she can face me. "You really don't fucking get it, do you, Naomi?" she asks, raising her voice. "She had finally started to accept the fact that you were unattainable. She was finally starting to move on. Now, here you are, dressing in her clothes, and spending your acid trip with her."

I can't think right now. None of this computes. This isn't the way things are. "She's the one who found me," I explain, trying to calm the fire I see building in Katie's eyes.

"Acid binds you to things, you fucking idiot!" she yells. "You will never look at anything you experienced that night the same way. I fucking hated techno before Saturday night, and now I have this ridiculous profound appreciation for it. Why do you think we all rotated who we spent time with?"

I can feel my mouth working, but no words are coming out. Why can't I speak? "I didn't," I force out. "I mean, I don't think of her…"

"You don't have to," she says quietly. She sounds sad. "Stop thinking. Stop thinking, and under it all, you'll feel it. You can't experience a night like that with someone and not have a special place for them," she explains. She sighs, and for the first time, I see Katie Fitch slump. "She'll feel it. She'll feel it ten times stronger than you do, and she'll have to work to bury her feelings again."

I was starting the picture. But none of this was my fault. I've yet to lead Emily on. I've never told her we were anything other than what we are. Of course, what that is, I'm not quite sure. I don't even know that we're friends. "Why do you care?" I lash out. "Don't you hate that she's gay."

She's quiet, and stares out of the windshield. "I don't like it. I'd rather she weren't," she admits. "I think she'll be incredibly lonely." She turns to me and sighs again. "But she's still my sister."

I should be sad. I should be touched by this vision of sisterly love. But I'm not. Especially since I'm not sure what she wants of me. I open the door and put a foot down on the road. "You know," I say, turning to face Katie before getting out of her car. "You made sure Emily and I never got close from the start. In fact, you made sure to alienate me from everyone." I lift myself out of the car, but stick my head back in the door to add, "And Emily didn't help."

Fuck all of it. It wasn't worth the trouble. I slam her car door and continue walking home. I was not going to be lectured by the reason I kept everyone at arm's length. I'm too fucking tired, and she has no right in the first place.

Great. I'm just working myself up.

As soon as I get home, I make my way to my mother's liquor cabinet. People can say what they want, but living at home definitely had its advantages, especially with such a liberal mother like mine.

"What's wrong, dear?" she asks, catching me rifling through the cabinet. "You only come after mine in emergencies, when you haven't had time to procure your own."

"I'd really rather not talk about it," I say, emerging from the cabinet with a bottle of Tequila in my hand. I take a swig straight out of the bottle and my mother glares at me.

"Naomi," she chastises. "Use a shot glass."

I roll my eyes and stomp over to the cabinet. It sounds juvenile, but my mother's attitude towards my alcohol intake amuses me, and it's more for show than anything else. I pull down two shot glasses and return to the table.

"Oh, do get some limes, dear," she says, smiling.

I sigh and fetch the limes from the fridge, setting them and a knife down on the table. She quickly cuts the limes into wedges, and soon enough we're challenging each other to shot after shot.

So much for using the week to recover from my weekend. I'm going to die before I'm thirty.

"Why won't you tell me what's wrong?" my mother tries again, several shots later. "I mean, Tequila is a tough thing to turn to for a young girl. Especially with her mother. I remember some wild nights with Tequila."

Oh, no. I'd better speak before she starts reminiscing about her golden years. That always leads to frightening mental images, and on occasion, nightmares.

"It's nothing, Mum," I say, waving my hands and smiling. I really do feel better, but I don't know if it's because of her or the alcohol. Very possibly both. "People just… expect things from me."

"Well, that's silly," she says, downing another shot.

"Yeah," I nod, holding a lime wedge out to her.

"Do you expect things from you?"

"Well, yeah," I say, shrugging. "I expect to get a degree in politics and eventually rule the world."

"Then that's what you should do."

Oh, Mum. How would I ever get along without you?

Eventually, I make my way up the stairs so that I can have a bath. They always did help relax me. Plus, they're just nice.

But as I was sitting in the water, I noticed that the ripples in the water were outlined in red and blue. They were never outlined in red and blue before.

Jesus Christ, am I going to hallucinate for the rest of my fucking life?

I push the thought to the back of my mind, and try to enjoy my bath.

That night, I sleep like a log.

*****

Tuesday came and went without fanfare, thank God. I don't think I could have handled anything else fucked up happening to me. Everyone needed a break sometime.

So, when Wednesday came around, I finally felt like myself again. It's strange, how much I missed me. I tried not to get too comfortable, though, being almost certain that I wasn't going to end this night sober.

I had decided to show up to Emily and Shane's gig the moment I heard about it. I was just too curious to stay away.

It never occurred to me to ponder the reason behind the curiosity.

I was able to find directions online, just like I knew I would. Turns out, the club was fairly new, which explains why I had never been there before. You don't hang out with Cook and stay out of the club scene. It just doesn't happen. In fact, I was surprised he still hadn't heard about it.

Maybe it was in a bad neighborhood. It was in an area we generally never went, after all. Maybe I should take someone with me.

That's ridiculous. I'll be fine. Let no one think that Naomi Campbell can't live up to her name. I'm not afraid of shoes.

My only snag was that I didn't know what time Emily's thing was supposed to start. If I went too early, I risked her catching sight of me while they're setting up. If I went too late, well, then, my curiosity would never be satisfied.

I decided nine o'clock sounded like a good time. Surely, Emily and Shane were a small deal. There was no way anyone would put them on later. That's just bad for business.

I realized very quickly why we didn't frequent the neighborhood the club was in. There were rainbow flags hanging from the street lamps, and the establishments had names such as "Cockpit."

Fantastic. I've managed to land myself smack dab in downtown Gayville. I should have known, honestly.

But, I've come too far to give up, now. I move down the street, finding the sign for Rain about halfway down. Oh, the things I've seen in that short walk. I can't talk about it. I'm too scarred.

I actually kind of like the atmosphere this place as got going. It's not so much of a club, but more of a lounge. It's all done up in blues and greens, with raindrop patterns along the walls in bright pink. There are couches along the walls, and a small stage towards the back. The bar is off to the side, and I realize that I am, in fact, too early. I quickly spot Emily and Shane having a drink. I look back towards the stage and notice it's already got all sorts of equipment on it, and I hope they'll go on, soon.

To avoid being seen, I make my way over to a particularly crowded couch, and stand idly by the group. Some girl (I think it's a girl) looks at me like I'm crazy, but I ignore her. I'm allowed to stand wherever I want to, thank you very much.

Still, I'd really like a drink, and I'm not allowed to get one.

I keep her in my sights, careful not to get caught. I'm not sure why I'm trying to remain unseen. I intend to see her later. I just get the feeling that it would be best for me to be invisible right now, so that's what I'm going to be. After all, I don't even see JJ here, and he's actually allowed to know about it.

Or maybe I just like for things to be complicated. Simple's far too boring, after all.

Shane looks at his watch, and motions for Emily to follow him. I watch as she takes a deep breath and trails after him, heading towards the stage. I see them meet with two other guys, one with shaggy black hair and a lot of eyeliner. The other one's got long blonde hair, and looks like he's twelve. It looks like they all might be reminding each other of common mistakes to watch out for. The guy with the eyeliner is making all kinds of big gestures, mostly to the twelve year old.

It's kind of funny to look at from here.

The lights dim and spotlights appear on the stage. I look back at the group, and watch them file onto the stage. The twelve year-old sets himself up behind the drum set, and the guy with eyeliner picks up a bass. I knew Shane played the guitar, and he didn't disappoint by picking that up.

I watched Emily slide her hands into her back pockets as she made her way up to the stage, picking up the microphone that was lying on the floor.

This place couldn't even spring for a stand?

"Hey, guys," she said into the mike, greeting the crowd. There was some clapping and a holler or two, but the response wasn't overwhelming. I immediately became afraid for them.

"I don't usually sing with these guys," she explains, gesturing to the three men on stage with her. I find myself moving closer to the stage involuntarily. "But they're called Black Jesus."

That got a few laughs, but it was obvious she didn't have them eating out of her hand. The closer I got, the more I realized how nervous she was. She was smiling, and playing it off well. If I didn't know her as well as I do, I never would have caught it.

Wait a minute. Was Katie right? Did Saturday night change things? I had managed to convince myself that she was full of shit, but here I was, noticing things about Emily that I couldn't possibly notice unless I knew her.

The guy with the eyeliner took a tumbler and dragged it along the neck of his bass, creating a really cool, scraping sound. He did this several times, playing several notes until Shane joined him on the guitar. The drums were soon to follow, sending a groovy ambience through the club. I already felt like swaying.

I don't know why, but I continued to move closer and closer to the stage, especially after Emily started singing. It was more of a crooning, really. If music could be described as smoky, that's how I would describe their music. Emily's vocals were low, in contrast to what I've heard of her before. I liked this sound better. It suited the husky texture she's got to her voice. It was haunting, and magnetic, and I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

And as soon as she saw me, I wished I had never even shown up. She tried not to glare at me. She tried to ignore me and pretend I didn't exist, but her eyes would inevitably fall on me, and she'd glare ever so slightly.

But there was no point in leaving. I'm already here and she's already seen me. There's no point in trying to pretend I was never here, and I'll have to face the Emily Fitch storm sooner or later.

So I might as well get it over with.