Author's Notes

Okay, I know it's been a ridiculously long hiatus, but let me break it down for you. First there was class. That I could juggle with writing. But then came the girl, and I got a little preoccupied, who then became the girlfriend, so I stayed that way. Then there was my sister's wedding to deal with, and a move across town directly after. I really have been too busy to update. Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me, and I'm sorry for worrying you and making you wait so long. But there's no way I could forget about this project, and I still have plans for Octahedron in my head. I'm not sure how many more chapters are in this one. I know it'll be one or two. I know where I want it to go; I just don't know exactly how many steps it's going to take me to get there. I start school again at the end of the month, and like last semester, you probably won't see an update while class is going on.

Warnings: clunky dialogue that should have been discussed last chapter but was forgotten about, the end of happy!Naomily, what you all thought I forgot about

Abnormally Attracted to Sin

Chapter 19: A Feather Becomes a Blade

By Persephone's Nautical Nun

"Look, you're a lesbian, I know you know how to do this," Shane tells Emily with a teasing smile on his face, trying to place her fingers on the neck of her guitar. "You have to curl your fingers more."

"Wrong hand," I point out with a raised eyebrow, and I feel the corners of my mouth quickly following. For some reason, Emily flips me off instead of Shane as I pass the spliff I've just hit to Bryan.

"Wow, Ems, you're fucked," Bryan says with a big, goofy grin on his face before taking a long drag on the joint. "Why don't you just stick to vocals?" he asks, passing the spliff to AJ, his voice tight. For a while, it felt like he would stay deliberately silent in my presence, but he's started talking more. He can be rather entertaining, in an off-beat kind of way.

"Because if I only stuck to what I know, my life would be really fucking boring, wouldn't it?" she asks with false anger, and he offers a hand in concession.

Honestly, she's not that bad; she's actually pretty decent, it's just fun to tease her. Apparently, she's been taking lessons from Shane for a while, though I'm not sure in exchange for what. She's been getting better in the few weeks I've been here, and I imagine she had come a long way before that.

She leans the guitar against the wall she's propped against and takes the spliff from AJ. "We need a gig, or a party, or something," she tells Shane, sipping several times on the joint. "I still don't have rent for next month," she explains, and I perk up.

I hadn't thought about it before, but it dawned on me that I've never heard about her going to a steady job of any kind, and I knew her family wasn't helping her out. I had seen her make rent from a gig before, but it was my understanding that those were few and far between. "How much do you need, Ems?" I ask. "I can help out," I offer, because it's only fair, but Bryan waves me away.

"I've been craving a good old pasture rave, lately," he says, looking at Emily, and she nods, looking thoughtful.

"We'll need some kind of electric generator, but I think I know a place," she says a few minutes later, and I'm trying to figure out when the spliff got back to me.

If Shane had been wearing glasses, he would have looked over them at AJ, but he isn't, so he just mimics the action. "Is that possible?" he asks him, and AJ just waves him off, which I guess means it is.

AJ wasn't lying when he said he didn't know Emily very well. He doesn't come around nearly as often as Bryan or Shane do, and he feels closer to the edge of the group as a whole than anything else.

I get a restless kind of vibe from him.

"How have you been making re3nt?" I ask Emily pointedly, but cautiously. I want to get an answer, because I didn't get one the last time I asked a question, but it seems strange to me that I didn't ask before now. I never really thought about it.

She arches an eyebrow and smiles patiently at me. "You know we charge admission to those parties, right?" she asks, and I feel somewhat dumbstruck. I guess it makes sense, since I'm sure all the drugs and decorations had to get paid for somehow. I just had no idea people paid to get into them, I guess because I never had to.

"Yeah, that acid party did pretty well," Bryan says, stubbing out the roach, "even if we didn't make as much as we could have."

"Wait, so just the four of you have thrown these amazing parties?" I ask, sitting up straighter and raising a hand into the air, looking between them. It seemed far too incredible that they put together what they did by themselves.

"You can accomplish anything if you put forth the effort," Shane says, and I reflect on that silently for a moment. It's one of those adages that you hear from birth and never take seriously, or think about. I can imagine the four of them, with varying strengths and weaknesses, as is typical of the human race, coming together in separate fields to pull off incredible feats.

So, maybe he's right, in a roundabout kind of way.

"By the way," he says, putting his hands together contemplatively, turning towards me. "I finally went back and inspected the art room in the church," he explains, the corners of his mouth curling upwards, and his eyes narrowing, as though attempting to see some kind of secret that even I don't know. He points his hands in my direction, and asks slyly, "Was the enchanted pastel forest your creation?"

I'm taken aback and glance quickly at Emily, a habit I've somehow managed to form, despite several mental battles with myself, and her eyes widen and start to shine, and a genuine smile tugs at the corners of her lips. I stutter a few times, trying to answer his question. It's just that the question seemed to come out of nowhere, and I'm stoned, so it takes me a minute to remember what he's talking about. I don't even remember clearly just what I did on that wall, anymore. Emily responds before I get to answer, though. "That's kind of what I thought about it, too. I just couldn't come up with the right words," she explains, and it's fun to watch her get wrapped up in things when she's high.

He looks over at her, and nods emphatically, the two of them obviously feeding each other happiness with their mutual admiration. "Yeah, I guess," I say, because I know that I used pastels that night. I do not, however, remember any kind of enchanted forest. It was a doodle at best.

"Where'd that come from?" he asks, turning back to me, and it feels like that's the only knowledge he cares about having for the rest of his life.

I shrug, having absolutely no idea how to respond to him. It didn't come from anywhere; I was fucked up and the pastels amused me.

"Okay, then where did you go?" he tries from another direction. I guess my face must show my confusion, because he tilts he head conspiratorially, and explains. "There was a large area covered, and a lot of blending. That took some time, and you didn't take a break. That indicates that you got drawn into whatever you were doing. Where did you go?"

I can feel my face tighten as I try to bring up what I was feeling in that moment, but I can't seem to find the right levels of thoughts. The images and thoughts I'm getting now are perverted versions of their original selves, and it just doesn't feel right. I shake my head in an attempt to clear it and start over, and Shane grins, leaning to his left to grab his messenger bag, and makes his way over to my side.

He pulls a worn sketchbook out of his bag and turns it to a blank page, plopping it down in my lap, followed by a bag full of crayons. "Not exactly pastels, but they'll do on the spot," he says with a sheepish grin, and he refuses to acknowledge my 'you're crazy' face.

He moves back to Emily's side across the room, and I suddenly feel isolated somehow, though the feeling's not uncomfortable or negative. Because they're there, and because I'm high, and because I have nothing else to do, I start to fish random crayons out of the bag and experiment with various color shades and combinations. It's hard, though, because the wax just doesn't work the same way, and the colors don't seem s enthralling.

Perhaps this is strictly and LSD activity.

But I try, and I move the colors across the page in random arcs and swirls, and it's nothing like what I'm sure Shane imagines it to be, and before I know it, the four of them are getting up and exchanging goodbye hugs. I close the sketchbook and try to gather up all of Shane's things to return them to him, but he puts a hand up to stop me. "Hang onto those for a while," he says with a lopsided grin. "Play around. Have some fun."

If only he'd realize that I really don't think my future is in the arts. At least he means well.

I watch as Emily closes the door behind Bryan, the last of the boys over the threshold, before coming over to me and glancing at the sketchpad. "You really do have an interesting sense of color," she almost mumbles, her eyes skimming over the page, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "I mean, I know there's no shape here, but just the color makes it cool to look at," she explains.

"Oh, please, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing," I say, tossing the pad a few feet away from me, and moving to stand in front of her.

She cocks her head and her hair falls across her face. "That's what makes it even better. You're not bound by rules of artists set before you," she says with a smile before leaning forward to bring our lips together.

The conversation is quickly forgotten.

I never heard mention about the party again, and I didn't bother asking because I got the sense that I wasn't welcome to. It seemed like something that Emily didn't want me to be a part of, and I respected that. After all, she initially didn't want me to know about the group of them in the first place, simply because she wanted something of her own. I'm more than willing to allow her this since she's obviously decided to let me into that part of her world.

I hadn't heard anything about it, and it actually kind of slipped my mind. Not completely, mind you, it was simply buried under other thoughts of contradictions, such as domestic bliss and the overwhelming urge to run away. I want to be with Emily. I really do. But there's still something that I can't get over; a wall I can't tear down, and the worst part is that I don't know what it is. I just can't seem to quite pull her to me completely.

And I'm afraid she feels it, too.

That's why I was confused for half of the ride with Cook, Effy, and Emily out in the middle of nowhere in Shane's van. Emily just kept giving me these strange looks, as though I had lost my mind, and refused to say anything. But as I try and fail to make a mental map in my head as we twist our way down a narrow path in the trees, a light bulb goes on and realization finally dawns on me.

It seems like the trees are getting thicker and thicker the further we go until I start to think that we're going to get stuck, and we'll all have to get out and try to push the van back out of this labyrinth, but Cook parks it snuggly between two trees. I glance over at Emily, but she seems more confident than anything else. I open the van door and climb out, looking up into the actual canopy made by the tree branches. I feel like I'm in a forest, and I can't imagine trying to have a party anywhere near here.

I wonder how far we're going to have to walk.

Emily takes off in a seemingly random direction, and I'm quick to follow her, having to bend down to avoid being hit by branches she's too short to notice. Effy files in behind me, dragging Cook along by his wrist.

"Are you sure you know where we are?" I ask as we come to a stop a few minutes later, looking around and seeing nothing but trees. I can hear Effy and Cook shuffling behind me, and they almost run right into me. I can hear the rhythm of their steps disrupt and panic before an abrupt stop.

Emily just glances over her shoulder at me, eyebrow cocked smugly, but I can see a slight offense behind her eye. I've gotten better at reading her, and I really should know better than to underestimate her, by now. She holds her index finger up in the air next to her face before bringing it to rest on her lips, one side of her mouth curled up in a challenging half-smirk, and I know she's telling me to pay attention.

There's this strange center, or wholeness, or connectedness that I had noticed in both Shane and Bryan, and it was starting to rub off on Emily. They all seemed to be aware of everything, all the time. I see them try to sneak up on each other several times a week. It's like a game to them; not menacing in any way, just to see if they can. And I noticed that every time Emily would tell me that one of them was around long before I could see them, her demeanor would change. She would get very still, unless we were walking and her strides would get longer and lighter, and she would stop a conversation mid-sentence to hear something only she could hear.

I mimic her, mostly just to mock in a completely inside joke kind of way, and I can see her eyes laugh with me, even in the darkness. But as the thought leaves my mind, I can feel a very gentle steady beat pulsing through the ground. I drop my smile, and Emily's widens, and she tilts her head as if to say, "Lead the way."

I bite my lip and grin at her, tilting my head in the direction I think the vibrations are coming from, and my smile grows as I catch the approval in her eyes. Without a word, I take off into the trees, my steps purposeful, and I wonder to myself why I think it's so important that I get this right.

I can hear Cook and Effy behind me, but not Emily. I know she's there anyway, tracing my footsteps, as silent as she wants to be. The trees begin to get even thicker, and for just a moment I think about giving up and turning around, because I'm really getting tired of getting hit in the face, and scratched along my neck by reaching branches. I don't, because I know I'll never hear the end of it. Besides, I can feel the vibrations getting harder and harder, and it's become audible.

And just when I think the trees are going to grab me and swallow me whole, I break out into a huge clearing filled with people, and the music is louder than my own thoughts. I turn around to see Emily coming out of the woodwork, followed by Cook and Effy. Emily sidles up to me, and kisses me when she sees my expression. I don't understand how a hole in trees that thick can exist on this scale. In face, it reminds me of some large-scale crop circle.

Her smile is radiant as she pulls away and takes my hand, leading me into the glowing crowd. Everyone's got neon necklaces, and bracelets, and rings, and pacifiers, and it feels like we're walking into a drugged-out, undulating rainbow.

"I'm impressed," I yell, trying to be heard over the music, and I know she can't hear me, because I can't even hear myself. She knows what I mean, though, because her look turns smug. There's a lot to be impr3ssed with. This place is so far off the beaten path that police won't bother to make their way out here, and the surrounding trees are so thick that they muffle most of the sound so they won't have a reason to come out in the first place. This is a part, open for the world to see if it cares to look, and we're not going to get caught.

In true rave fashion, Emily pulls a pair of glow sticks from her never-ending pockets, and I think they're the same blue and red ones from the acid party at the church. Funny, it seems like such a long time ago. She backs away from me and starts to rave, but instead of the pattern being choppy and unbalanced like the last time I saw them, the lights move completely in sync with one another, creating intricate trails that I didn't think was possible for a human to make.

They stop, and I'm pulled out of a trance I wasn't aware I had fallen into. There's a flick of a lighter before smoke and a burning cherry appear inches away from my face. I watch the orange glow move off to my right before my head is forced down and lips are on mine.

I wrap my arms around Emily's waist, pulling her closer to me as she forces my mouth open with her own. My moan is muffled as a rush of air and smoke invades my lungs, and my only option is to inhale as deeply as I can, my head swimming and my arms clinging just a little tighter.

She pulls away again, and takes another hit before placing the spliff between my lips. I lift my face to the sky as I drag deeply on the weed, noticing for the first time that we're far enough out that we can actually see the stars. Maybe it's the scenery, and the music, and the neon, and the drugs, but even though we're surrounded by countless strangers, it feels as though Emily and I are somewhere far, far away from the planet Earth.

"Dance with me," she says without words, and her body starts to move. She's feverish, almost carnal, her hands everywhere at once. My body moves with hers, and I feel our hips lock, her arms snaking around my torso. The music is fast, but controlled, and I can feel something building just below the surface in both of us, and I don't know if we'll ever let it out.

I take another drag and exhale it into the atmosphere, watching it dissipate as the music slows to something almost melancholy. I look down at Emily, catch her eyes in the flashes of our neighbors' jewelry, and I know the shift has affected her somehow. She kisses me once, twice, so long and deeply that I literally feel my head spin.

That is, until a pair of arms practically rips us apart in order to drape themselves around our shoulders. "I'm so happy you guys finally got together," Cook shouts, and somehow, he's loud enough to actually be heard over the bass. He hugs us to his chest, jostling me playfully, and I can tell he's on something.

"Thanks, Cook," Emily says as appreciatively as she can. He doesn't hear that she's simply humoring him, but I do.

"I mean it," he continues as though he didn't hear her, and I suppose it's likely that he didn't. "It wasn't easy for either of you, but you got past it all."

Uh-oh. This sounds like projection of Effy troubles to me. "Are you okay, Cook?" I ask him pointedly.

Again, he pressed on, and by now I know there's no stopping him. It's better to let him finish his rant and watch him stagger off, and try and talk to him tomorrow, because there's just no reaching him. "I mean, I thought the AJ thing was going to kill it forever, but you two are just too strong."

Emily lowers her head from looking up at him and levels her eyes at me. "What AJ thing?" she asks. She's not accusing, her smile is still wide. She's asking me in disbelief, as though she's taking everything Cook says with a grain of salt, and it would be so easy to lie to her.

Except that Emily's question seems to be the only thing Cook's heard, and even in his inebriated state, it reaches him. I watch his face as he realizes what just came out of his mouth, and he visibly sobers, and it looks like it pains him. "Nothing," he says more enthusiastically than can be considered normal, and he quickly takes his leave.

His behavior doesn't go unnoticed, and Emily's face goes through a similar transformation. "What AJ thing?" she repeats, her voice as even and steady as yelling allows, and it sounds practiced.

I sigh and bite my lip. I wouldn't have lied to her in the first place, but this isn't the way she should hear about it. "Not now, okay?" I ask, and I can feel the desperation behind my eyes. I can only hope that she can see it. "Not here."

Her eyes harden, a sure sign that she's angry, and looks around, finally remembering we're not alone. We don't need to hash out our problems in front of other people. It's always been in private, and I don't think either of us wants to start airing our dirty laundry now. She purses her lips and looks back at me, holding my gaze for an infinite moment. She nods shortly and moves past me, and she's easily swallowed by the crowd.

I don't see her again until the long drive home.