Part two then, My thanks go to all who reviewed the first part and specially to M (mswitsend) who is an inspiration. Her new story has me gripped and if you haven't read it, shame on you. Its the best thing to be posted on FF for ages. Read it!

Right then, Emily pushed her luck too far with the cave troll known as Mandy, so Naomi fled the scene and Bristol. We catch up in a couple of months. First with Naomi. True love never did run smoothly, specially with these two and broken hearts make for bad decision making. Not an excuse, but I remember being 17...its hard!

Naomi

The girl I was pressing against the crumbling outside brickwork of the club wall moaned again and her fingers tightened rhythmically in the material of my crumpled top as I pounded her. The night air was cold and frosty, but neither of us was feeling it. She was the third this month. No one special...just a fucking random, like me. Can't even tell you what the name of the club is. I hitch-hiked here with a group of freshers I saw coming out of a pub I don't know the name of either. One of the guys, the one with a stupidly long striped Uni scarf, tried a cheesy smile on this lone reveller, swaying along the Mile End Road with a half empty beer can and a dopey smile.

Me.

I smiled crookedly back.

I knew that look. It said "Uh Oh?...a reasonably attractive female, on her own and looking just pissed enough to maybe allow said student to screw her against a club wall after a few more drinks and perhaps a small yellow pill?"

Except it was me who did the screwing tonight. The guy...Darren...Daniel? gave up after he'd bought me two expensive cocktails following which, I dripped disappointment into his ear about my true sexual orientation. His look of dismay nearly made me take pity on him and offer a complimentary hand job out the back as consolation.

I said nearly. But no cigar. I left him talking urgently to his mate, both sending me resentful looks as I swallowed the last of the drinks and made my way even more drunkenly to the dance floor.

It was full of sweaty bodies. Mostly a few years older than me. But in the crazy kaleidoscope lights, I spotted a likely victim soon enough. I gave her 'The Look' . The one I've been practising for a few weeks now. Didn't even know I had it in my arsenal when I left Bristol. I've always had the other 'looks' The 'don't fuck with me, loser' sneer. The 'are you educationally challenged?' one, oh and the 'are you out of your fucking mind?' one I save for pathetic boys who leer hopefully at me, then try out one of their predicable give me a shag lines. (One James Cook had been the recipient of all three, not that it stopped him using them repeatedly)

But Cookie boy was back in Bristol...well, in a way. Bristol prison. I could have used him as a wing man these past weeks. After he got used to the idea that I would never shag him...not even at gunpoint... he sort of morphed into the closest thing to a real friend I've ever had. Breaking up with E...her...was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I could have done with the Cook shoulder to cry on and the Cook ability to find strong drugs in the unlikeliest places. But he's residing at Her Majesties Pleasure right now. And for the foreseeable future, inconsiderate cunt. So its left me alone in a strange city, with hardly any money, nowhere to sleep and no plan when I got here for the next 24 hours, let alone 24 months.

When I got off the coach, I had a grand total of £45.28 on me. Supposed to be the gas and electric money for Alfred Road, but fuck that. Leaving Emily behind, staring at me with those huge tear filled brown eyes was agony enough. Leaving her to get warm and comfortable with her totally non platonic new friend was a complete non starter. Maybe their love will keep them warm, I thought bitterly...Naomi Campbell isn't subsidising a treacherous ex a single day longer. I packed quickly and left them. I even pushed my key back through the letter box after I'd slammed the front door so hard the frame shook. Quite why, I don't know. Not the frame, the key thing. Its my fucking house...or at least my sainted mother's. But it felt good to do it. Whenever they eventually got tired of sticking their fingers in each other, the orphan key would tell that bitch and her new friend that I've not just popped down the shops for a replacement box of eggs and another copy of Heat. The half empty wardrobe might be a clue, but the shiny brass key would seal it.

The tiny bit of satisfaction that thought gave me lasted precisely long enough for me to find a quiet corner in Victoria Bus Station (not easy) and tap in my mothers mobile number on my phone. It rang for fucking ages...probably shagging the wrinkled tutor in some cubicle, I said to myself snidely. But she wasn't. She was at the airport…. Her and Kieran had just flown in to Gatwick from Thailand and were about to board a fast train to Bristol.

There was a deafening silence when I gave her the run down on what had happened at Chez Campbell since she fucked off. I braced myself for the inevitable, and after that pregnant delay, there it was.

"Oh Naomi" she said

I've heard that sentence a million times. I've made a career out of fucking up...no really, I have. Expelled from middle school for being a complete wise arse was just the last in my list of colossal mistakes. I just managed to get into Roundview (not exactly the pinnacle of Bristol sixth form colleges) after mum sweet talked Harriet into overlooking my behaviour record in favour of my eight A*s at GCSE. Luckily for me that toad Professor Blood hadn't yet deposed Harriet yet and with average grades at Roundview going down faster than one of Donald Trumps porn stars, she recognised the sense in getting a straight A student into the college, whatever her other...problems.

Well, that worked out well, didn't it? A few days before my finals, I fuck off to London with a broken heart.

"Oh Naomi" she said again and this time my temper flared. Just for once, I wasn't the one to blame. Well, if you gloss over the fact that I poked dear Sophia first on the couch while Emily was at her grans. But I'd paid for that misdemeanour with 3 months of icy disdain, hostility and contempt... 24 hours every fucking day since. Not to mention the final charming view of my so called girlfriend with her legs wide open, being frigged by that troll Mandy. The gorge rose in me again as the lurid scene refused to go away. It wasn't just the sight...it was the sounds you see. The muffled groans and the squeaking of the couch as Emily's 'friend' got her hand right down that flimsy g string. The fucking underwear I bought her the week before the shit hit the fan over Sophia. Insult? Meet injury.

But anyway...after her usual lecture about infidelity and trust etc etc...my mother realised I was phoning from the big city, not the cold doorstep outside our house.

"Right" she said in that no nonsense tone that I have ignored for 17 years "...get yourself straight back on the coach Naomi Campbell...London is no place for a girl on her own. Come back home...we should be there just after you...then we can all sit down with a nice cup of tea and discuss this like adults?"

The chances of me sharing anything, even tea with Emily Fitch this side of the apocalypse was so vanishingly small I nearly choked on my own spit.

"N..no fucking way mum. I'm gone. Tell her to pack her things and get back to that scruffy caravan with the rest of the Fitches. If...no when she's long gone, I might come back home. But right now...not happening"

Now I might have spent 17 years ignoring my mums advice and/or instructions, but she hadn't stopped trying either. I had to listen to nearly half an hour of reasoning, ordering and in the end, outright begging before she realised I was not going to do that tedious journey in reverse. Not that night anyway.

So she ended up getting Kieran to wire some money to Western Union for me. The money would be available so long as I had my passport, the next day by noon. In the meantime she insisted I find a decent hotel to check into. I wandered out of the coach station and saw the Park Plaza hotel. It looked expensive, but another phone call resulted in Kieran using his credit card to book me a single for one night. He nearly choked when the guy on reception told him it would be £150, but I could hear my mum in the background telling him in no uncertain terms that the only thing on the menu for the next month would be raw potatoes if he said no. I couldn't resist a smirk at that, remembering her comment about sex and potatoes during my first year at Roundview.

I got a snotty look from the receptionist when I showed her my single tatty bit of luggage, but a fuck I did not give. I was exhausted, even after sleeping on the coach. A few drinks from the mini bar (I dismissed the faint guilty twinge at hitting Kieran's Visa card even harder) and a good nights sleep then…..

And now...some weeks later, I hear you ask, why am I still here?

Well, I got talking...to a couple of Australians about travelling, living out of a rucksack on no money and this and that and...well, umm….

Anyway...all that's academic, unlike my actual academic life. No school yet, but mum's been phoning people like crazy. I didn't even know I had a cousin in London. But apparently I do. Lucky me.

So now I have a poky spare room in a three bedroom terraced house in East London, courtesy of my long lost cousin and I'm booked to start retrieving my abandoned education at the end of the month. Time enough for me to cram for the delayed exams and get those A level grades so I can take up my unconditional place at Goldsmiths.

But that doesn't explain why I'm out of my head right now, gnawing the neck of a shy but curious first year Uni student who meekly agreed to follow me outside this poxy club for a 'smoke'.

Yeah, a smoke…

The only things smoking are my straight fingers as they drive in and out of her clinging moisture. We started off kissing in the club...which was quite sweet. We'd danced closely for half an hour, gradually pressing closer together, until I could get my knee between her thighs. I'm starting to get the hang of this seduction lark (don't laugh). My extensive experience of girls comprising a short and unsatisfying grope on the couch with the late Sophia, which my ex trumped comprehensively by shagging Mandy in front of me...oh and an intense and fulfilling relationship with one Emily Jane Fitch...the ex in question. Not exactly Anais Nin...but I'm learning.

The girl...Anna...Hannah or something? Noisy clubs not being the best environment to have an in depth conversation, was ridiculously easy to seduce...or maybe its just that I wasn't taking no for an answer? I seem to have left my empathy behind in Bristol, along with my morals. She was pretty, in an entirely un Emily blond and blue eyed way and was at least willing to let me use her. Whimpering into my shoulder as I roughly squeezed her small tits and bit into the soft flesh of her neck. Once her skirt was up around her waist and my hand inside those tiny girl shorts...it wasn't hard to forget who she was and what she represented. I didn't want anything back...I seem to be numb below the waist these days...but her groans and whispered pleas were at least mildly exciting. Someone was getting something out of this loveless fuck. I curled my fingers and use my thumb on her swollen clit. That hit the spot...she bucked against me and her own fingers clutched even harder at my top.

"Oh God...oh shit...thats...fuuu..oh Oh" she gasped as I thrust harder. I pulled my head back from her sweet smelling neck and watched impassively as she lost control. Which means I have control...something I thought I'd lost forever. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she shook from head to foot as she came. I let myself smirk briefly at how efficiently I'd got her off her before the satisfaction was washed away by the return of guilt and self recrimination. After she'd stopped shaking and gasping, she pushed my hand away and was suddenly all downcast eyes and embarrassed adjusting of clothing. When her knickers were back up and the skirt down, she looked nervously over my shoulder, probably checking our little back alley shag hadn't been observed. Well she was in luck tonight. The cold brickwork and yellow street light were our only witnesses. I brushed loose hair out of my eyes and registered the scent of her excitement on my fingers. It only added to my guilt.

"What sort of monster are you becoming?" my brain hissed at me "...using this girl to work out your own fucked up version of revenge"

The fact that it was true didn't make me accept it though. I shook my head as if answering.

I wished I was a normal human being for the first time tonight. The alcohol in my bloodstream was failing by now to boost my mood. Depression still lurked under it. The brief and for me unsatisfying sex had been a momentary distraction. I looked up at the cold indigo sky as the girl mumbled something about her mates wondering where she was. I hardly registered her leaving. Fumbling in my pocket, I pulled out a pack of Benson's...the reason I'd got her out of the club in the first place. Now I actually needed one. Flicking the throwaway lighter, I caught a glimpse of myself in the glass of an adjacent doorway. Hair mussed and the lipstick I'd carefully applied in my cousins box room spread across my lips and chin.

"You look like complete shit, Campbell" I murmured to my reflection.

"So you should" my conscience answered "...so you fucking should"

I made a poor attempt to tidy myself up before lurching towards the street. Enough 'excitement' for one night…

XXX

Emily

"For fucks sake Emily...its five in the morning" Katie grumbled thickly as I stumbled past her. The flimsy caravan door had refused to stay shut and banging it had only served to wake the gorgon known as my sister. Bumping into the gloriously inaccurately named 'temporary bed' that she was snoring on just made sure she was fully awake now. There were two of them, one either side of the equally badly labelled 'lounge area'. During the daytime, the 'beds' served as uncomfortable couches, barely wide enough to sit on. At night, with mum and dad in the only proper double bedroom and James in a cot in a tiny side room, it was the best we were going to get.

"Sorry" I said insincerely. The fact that I was 95% wasted probably didn't help.

"Jesus Emily...look at the state of you...your tights are fucking ruined?"

Tights being the least of my problems, I shrugged. Katie sat up and stared at me.

"Who was it tonight then bitch?" she sneered "Mandy the cave troll or that skank you were with on Wednesday...made a proper show of yourself at that party. I've started telling people that we're not related?

My mouth dropped at that. Katie of all people embarrassed at PDA's. The girl had made a fucking career of it from the age of 14. I'd lost count of the times I'd fled a room after catching her at it with whichever stud she was currently spreading her legs for.

"You're fucking unbelievable,...you know that" I hissed, knowing that raised voices had a habit of waking the she devil and I had no wish to be forced to explain my dishevelled appearance to my mother. The memory of the night I'd come home from Naomi's without my shoes and looking like I'd been mugged were still vivid. I wouldn't get away with telling them I'd 'nailed' someone this time. Everyone in the family was all too aware of my sexual orientation. Breaking up with Naomi hadn't changed that.

"Errr...pot, kettle Katiekins? This is me having fun...remember that?"

Katie flinched and I had a small twinge of regret for the snide remark, remembering that life had dealt her a hammer bow just about the time I was completely self absorbed about Naomi's cheating with Sophia.

She blinked away tears and I sat heavily on my own bunk. It squeaked alarmingly and I shot a concerned glance at the closed bedroom door at the other end of the caravan, but after a few seconds, it was still silent there.

"Look… I'm sorry for waking you up. I've just been out with some mates...smoked a bit of weed and fell into a bush, thats all. For your information, Mandy's moved on. I'm not looking for any sort of relationship right now. Broken heart, remember?"

Katie huffed and folded her arms over the thin duvet.

"Yeah right,...so broken, you've turned into the fucking acid queen inside two months. I get you're gutted that blondie has fucked off for good...but...?"

I bit my lip at that. It wasn't something I dwelt on nowadays, even if it was true. I'd been so shocked at being found out, that it was a couple of hours before I discovered the key, lying at the side of the doormat. Mandy had been pushed out of the door about five minutes after Naomi had slammed it. I had some stupid notion that my actual girlfriend had just stormed off for the afternoon, not forever. It was only when the door opened while I was staring at the half empty wardrobe in our bedroom that it all came crashing to the floor. Thinking it was Naomi home, I wiped the tears that were beginning to fall from my red eyes and ran for the hallway. If she was back...maybe I could just salvage things. I realised I'd been crazy...out of my tiny mind. Using Mandy had backfired spectacularly, but if Naomi was back, I could at least talk to her. Beg her.

The shock at seeing Gina and Kieran in the hall nearly made me fall down the stairs. When they saw me, I knew straight away I was in big, big trouble.

I'd been used to being the favourite with Naomi's mum. Because most of the time when things got fucked up it was my girlfriend who was the cause, Gina was normally on my side...well mostly. But I could see from the thin line of her mouth and the fact that Kieran was looking everywhere but at me, that this was going to be bad.

Well, it wasn't bad...it was fucking horrible. Gina put down her suitcases and beckoned me down. I came down the stairs with lead in my shoes.

"Well,, I would normally be asking you what she's done this time Emily" she said sadly "...but I think we both know that's not true...is it?"

I shook my head dumbly...obviously Naomi had been talking at length to her mum. This wasn't going to be pretty.

She sighed.

"I wish I could say this will blow over. But I know my daughter better than that. I know she cheated first Emily...she phoned me about a hundred times when it happened...and I thought...well, I thought with the love you had for each other...that you might find it in your heart to forgive her. Obviously not. Did you have to be that cruel...let her find you with someone else...in her own house?"

The tears were falling down both our cheeks by now. I couldn't answer her because there was nothing to say. Eventually she sighed again.

"Right, well she's gone up to London Emily...how long for I don't know. But what I do know is you can't be here...not now. Can you pack a bag and go back to your parents tonight? I'll get Kieran to bring the rest of your stuff over tomorrow, if you give him the address?"

And that was it...the end of all my dreams. I left quietly, leaving my own key on the table by the door. It was only then I saw Naomi's key on the floor beside the mat. I managed to hold in my sobs until the familiar blue door clicked shut behind me, then collapsed on the step and cried for...fuck I don't know...felt like hours.

And here I am now...living in a cramped caravan with my entire family.

I stared at Katie, who for once in her life was 100% right. Since that dark day, I'd set out to blank everything out. Mandy was history, but surprisingly, there seemed to be a continuous supply of experimental teenagers out there.

Shame not one of them was called Naomi Campbell.

"Oh Katie" I said pitifully.

"Come here" she said quietly and enveloped me in one of the Fitch hugs she rarely doles out. If there was ever a time I desperately needed one...it was now.

XXX

More to come later this week. The hedonistic life isn't without its benefits, but I don't think they're actually enjoying life...either of them.