Author's Note: More characters introduced in this chapter. Prepare for some strong feelings toward and against them. And afterwards let me know how you felt about my portrayal of them, please. Big thanks to marsupial1974, waitingonthegoldrush, and two anons. Your reviews make my days happier. Thanks for all the follows and favs as well!
Chapter Two: No Yarn Attached
It was twenty minutes past one in the morning when Emily parked her red moped in the car lot behind Rosencrest Apartments. With her large helmet resting between her left elbow and hip and backpack on, she unlocked the back door using her resident key. She climbed up the creaky wooden steps to the third floor, not that one could really hear the creaking over the seemingly competitive music blasting. It was not abnormal for every weekend to be deafening... and most weekdays.
The brunette was not surprised to find her flat door already wide-open, entrance crowded with unfamiliar faces. She had no difficulty as the only sober one, sliding past the drunken strangers and into the entryway. Hardest part was passing through the narrow hallway to the bedrooms and living room; the reverberating bass combined with people half-dancing, half-fucking (the differences between the two movements were indistinguishable), threw her balance off. Almost nothing frustrated her more than the fact that she could not navigate her own fucking flat because Katie, her twin and flat-mate, insisted on maintaining her popular status via alcohol and excessive partying. When Emily finally managed to get through, trying to avoid getting whiskey and beer spilled on her leather jacket, she accidentally bumped into her sister.
"Watch it, bitch," her glassy-eyed, practically identical counterpart shouted while turning. "Oh, Emily. Where the fuck have you been? There are these cute boys that are totally your type."
You don't know my type, Katie. We hardly even talk to each other anymore. Emily withheld the intensifying frustration threatening to explode - there was no point in releasing it when Katie would forget anything she would have said by the morning. Then again, maybe that would be best because it would not actually affect their relationship. Nah, better not. Wouldn't want to wreck her perfect, popularity party. Bottle it up - like usual.
"Holy shit, are you twins?! I fucking love a twin thing, if you know what I mean." Damn it. Not another one of these new fuckers. Gross. A fellow with sandy brown hair and jagged teeth, of the stereotypically jockish aesthetic, was swaying in the small space beside them and suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.
"I told you, Cookie." Ew. Cookie? Are you shitting me? What kind of fucking name is that? "We're basically identical. Except I'm the better looking one, obviously," Katie slurred. Emily noticed the way Cookie was eye-fucking her twin and nearly gagged in front of them. She figured this must be Katie's "new thing." Emily always got shown off like a second-place trophy for Katie's self-aggrandizing comparisons when a new boy-toy came around. It disgusted the sober twin how frequently her sister had new boys flying in and out of her life, or vagina - ew, don't think about that - like the world's busiest international airport.
"Yeah, you're mint sex, babe," he bit his lower lip and seductively pulled Katie closer by her lower back. Katie was, as per usual, buying into the optimism for sexual opportunities disguised as compliments and attention. Emily rolled her eyes and pushed past them, not caring if the rush toward her room caused anyone else to lose their balance. Pissed to find two intoxicated individuals undressing next to her bed, she showed no hesitation in aggressively shoving them out the door. She grudgingly picked up the remaining trousers and thong between her thumb and index finger and dropped them in her rubbish bin.
Step one: clear the premises and check belongings. Camera. Laptop. All here. Good. Step two: lock the door. Step three: begin relaxation. Emily sat at her desk - the only organized place in the frequently trashed flat. She slipped on her extremely worthwhile noise-cancellation headphones, which she had saved up for half of last year and spent the majority of her barista salary on. Sounds of synthetic instruments and soothing, rhythmic percussion began to ease her tensed muscles. Closing her eyes, she started to replay her entire evening with Naomi in her head, trying to calculate if there had been any missed undertones in their conversations. She leaned back in her swivel chair and stretched her legs out, laying them on the wood so her feet were at height with her shoulders, as she often did when the music had returned her to a state of total comfort. Unfortunately, she was thinking too much - reading too much into what was said before which was taking away from her brief, good mood. She unsuccessfully tried drowning out her thoughts by increasing the volume of her music, only making her ears a bit sore.
She opened her eyes when she felt the vibration of her cellphone through the wood beneath her feet. Sitting upright, she lowered the music volume, despite not needing to hear to read a text message, and slid her phone open. The screen brightly lit up her face, contrasting the darkness of her room and the distantly visible white half-moon in her window.
Freddie M: 2:13am: sk8 now?
2:13am: Yeah. Will be there in 10.
Freddie M: 2:15am: solid see u
2:15am: You text like such a skater.
Freddie M: 2:17am: gess so haha is tht bad?
2:18am: Maybe ;) leaving now
Emily was used to Freddie's minimal texting style. They had been friends since their university orientation three years ago. His laidback attitude (she was not sure how much was due to the weed he smoked or to his genuine personality) and his similar interest in art made them really compatible. She was sure she would not have survived her freshman year without his friendship. They often hung out at his place to avoid Katie's obnoxious antics that clashed with their mellow ones. It was not unusual that she had also gotten pretty close to his roommate, Jonah Jeremiah, JJ for short. JJ was really awkward but knew enough trivia to surely win any game show, and more usefully, any easily entertained person's friendship.
She grabbed her helmet and backpack, carefully placing her expensive professional camera (another one of her long-time saved-up-for purchases) and her old second-hand laptop in it and exited. She made sure to lock her bedroom door behind her. Not going to make the mistake again of leaving it unlocked at a party. Thank fuck I got there before they started doing anything on my bed.
As she passed the small kitchen she noticed an unopened bottle of Smirnoff whipped cream vodka hidden among all the empty bottles lining the counter. It wasn't that hidden, but everyone still there was too "off their tits" to notice so she slipped it in her bag and left.
It did not really matter to Emily whether the flat was locked because Katie took ownership over all the space anyway. The decorating was a hideous blend of cheetah print and bright pink, or what Katie liked to stupidly call "highest-fashion," because it is supposedly way better than "high-fashion." Emily never made the mistake of questioning her sister's taste in style after the initial move-in and several days of over-the-top bitchiness, mostly directed at Emily's clothes.
It was so much easier for her to let Katie do whatever she wanted with everything so she would, more often than not, be left alone about her own room and clothes. Still, anytime they went out together - an extremely rare occasion - Katie give Emily a once-over; "Are you honestly wearing that to the party? I seriously wish you didn't look like me. We're not related. Got it?" Emily knew she hid in her sister's shadow when it came to any sort of attention; being noticed was generally much worse.
Six minutes later Emily arrived at the makeshift skate park. It was really an unused cement plot that was most likely a forgotten car lot, encircled by one of the university dorms. Freddie and a few other unknown skaters they had randomly seen around started creating cheap ramps and grinding poles out of wooden planks and boards stolen from potholes, cement blocks, bricks, old steel pipes, and anything else sturdy they could find.
She took her normal spot on one of the longer planks set up horizontally for seating. Freddie was already skating in the dark, doing impressive tricks on one of the boards propped against a dumpster. Emily enjoyed watching him as the wind peacefully blew his shaggy black hair in and out of his face. She took her headphones out of her backpack, only putting one in her ear so she could still hear the wheels against the rough cement and clattering against the poles. Her camera followed shortly after. She abandoned her backpack to get closer shots of Freddie and his skateboard. Flash. Flash. Flash. He acknowledged her with a sweet smile and continued skating around freely. Flash.
They were not keeping track of time or the amount of pictures taken. Flash. Flash. When Freddie stopped skating Emily took pictures of elements in the park. Flash. Flash. Flash. She loved urban photography and took advantage of the setting. Their eyes had adjusted as much as they could in the darkness. Flash. When they were further apart, Freddie could tell where she was based on the bright flashes. He lit a joint from the back pocket of his torn jeans and slowly exhaled the smoke, smiling at his friend enjoying herself. Flash. Flash. They did this a lot. Each doing their own thing - satisfied just by the awareness that they were in the presence of each other. After a while, the flash photography started to look like fireflies in the darkness. During a small break, Emily took a few inhales of his weed and was giggling for no obvious reason. She did not smoke nearly as often as Freddie did.
"Le'me see 'em." He gestured to the camera then to himself.
"They're rubbish," Emily shrugged and opened the camera to the photo viewer then cautiously handed it to him. "Careful, that camera's my baby."
"Don't worry, Em." He clicked through the selection of pictures, "Rubbish, eh? I think you're top quality, Em."
"Yeah?" she asked shyly.
"Yeah, you and your photos too," he winked.
Emily punched him in the arm, "cheeky."
"Maybe," he rubbed the joint remains into the ground with one of his worn out shoes, "but I think your pictures are going to be on the billboards and in all the art galleries one day. You're good. Really good."
"Oh come off it, Freds, you're being too nice." She took her camera and put it in her bag. Okay, so I'm not that good at taking compliments about my photography. He's just being nice anyway. I'm not that good. Mum and Katie don't think so and I know they're not going to white lie about it because of friendship or kindness, or even because they're family. Oh, wouldn't that be the day...
Freddie noticed the shift in Emily's attitude and changed the subject. "So what are we doing the rest of the night, Ems? More fuckery?"
"Le'me see." Emily dialed her sister's mobile and put it on speaker. They listened in silence to the repetitive dial tone, waiting. Loud unrecognizable shouting and music promptly ended the silence. She hastily shut her phone. "Guess they're not done," she said, checking her watch, "and it's three a.m."
"More fuckery it is!" Freddie picked up his skateboard. Emily took her backpack and helmet. Her moped would be fine for the night. They walked to his dorm. Because the dorm electronically locked itself after midnight, they broke into it by pulling forcefully against the weak door with their feet propped against the wall beside it. There was no security camera or alarm to discourage them. Fortunately, he lived on the first floor - nice and close. He did not bother pulling out his room key - just turned the knob and quietly opened the door.
They found the boy with brown, curly hair (debatably an afro) intently gazing at his desktop, playing some computer game. Freddie motioned Emily with a finger to his lips for silence as he stepped closer to JJ whose back was to the door. He suddenly grabbed JJ's chair and shook it hard.
"OH BOBBINS! JESUS, MARY, JOSEPH, MOSES, AND MYTHICAL GODS ABOVE!" JJ clutched his chest, breathing heavily. "Don't scare me like that Freddie, I thought I was about to get anally massacred. I told you the odds of someone breaking into our room and killing us was significant enough to make it worthwhile to lock the door whenever you leave."
"Did you just say anally massacred?" Emily bit her lip to withhold laughing.
"Oh, hi Emily; didn't see you there. Of course you'd be here when Freddie would do something so childish to impre-"
"JJ!" Freddie cut him off.
"Sorry Freddie, I didn't know you were still hiding your obvious interest i-"
"JJ! Shut up!" Glaring, Freddie was on the verge of duct-taping his roommate's mouth shut. He knew his friend could not help it, with his mild social problems, but Freddie could try and control it as much as possible, at least, when there were girls around.
The curly-haired boy had difficulty keeping secrets or at least thinking twice about what he said bvcds to certain people. He knew he was supposed to not say certain things in front of Emily, like how their social interactions clearly suggested Freddie was interested, while Emily's were, as he explained in a private analytical discussion with Freddie, a little more mysterious or questionable. "Sorry, Freddie - um, to answer your question, Emily, yes, I did say 'anally massacred.' This is an all male dorm so the odds of anal penetration are disproportionately high compared to any likelihood of vaginal involvement."
Freddie and Emily stood there in silence for a minute, trying to let the awkward moment pass. "Thanks for the details, Jay," Emily firmly pressed her lips together and nodded. They were used to his technical rants but sometimes the rants were graphic. "So what game are you playing?" She took a seat on their futon, between the two beds, shrugging off her bag. Freddie sat down next to her.
"Portal Two. You know. I like puzzles."
"Yeah, that's cool. Maybe you could show me sometime?" Emily was naturally friendly. Once you really got to know JJ, he was a complete (naive) sweetheart. There had only been a few awkward moments where she had to remind him that their relationship was strictly a friendship and that it was not okay to share any of his sexual thoughts that were relevant to her, if he had any. JJ brought out a sort of protective behavior in all his friends, who could be a little harsh sometimes but would not let anyone else say or do anything that could cause even the slightest harm to JJ. He was more fragile by nature, even if no one had acknowledged so aloud.
"I could show you right now, if you want?" His braces showed in his kind smile.
"Not now, Jay - another day, for sure. I'm going to whoop Freddie's arse in some Call of Duty tonight," she smirked.
"You wish you could," Freddie joked, getting up to grab the Xbox 360 controllers and turn on the TV, then sitting back down. He was about to hand a controller to Emily, but she was busy pulling something out of her bag. "Ahh, of course, the fuckery," he said, referring to the newly introduced vodka.
Emily also pulled out two plastic red cups she had taken from the party. JJ did not drink; it would severely mess with his multiple medications. She poured herself and Freddie more than a fair share of alcohol and together they took a large gulp before starting to game.
As she had predicted, Emily was certainly doing some arse whooping. The drinking became ritual - every time Emily won she drank and every time Freddie lost he drank - so they both drank after every match. Many rounds later they were both wasted and bored of shooting, "You're really bad at this, Freddie."
"I know," he chuckled, "I don't know how you got so good at it."
"I'm good at a lot of things," Emily said innocently. Only Freddie realized the potentially inappropriate connotation of what she had said. "I don't know why you play it though."
"I only play it 'cause I know it's good for letting your anger out."
"I'm not angry, though." Emily sighed and took a sip from the bottle; they had given up on the cups after only a few shots worth. The awful taste of vodka had long ago become unnoticeable.
Without acknowledging her denial, Freddie continued, "How about we prank call someone..."
"Oh, YES! Let's do it!" Emily was clearly excited.
"Alright, who should we, err, call then?"
"Katie," Emily decided quickly, despite the looks of concern directed at her. She remained firm with her decision until they finally gave up protesting. A drunk Emily was a stubborn Emily.
They made four attempts at sloppily dialing Katie's number on Freddie's mobile, trying to copy the number from Emily's mobile. For all they knew, Katie would not recognize his number because she did not care or know about Emily's friends. Finally, they got so desperate they asked JJ for help. JJ hesitantly obliged and sat waiting to hear the outcome of what he just assisted.
Emily made her voice deep, trying to disguise it, "Hello, thissss isss the fashinn poleeeze. Youu are underrr arrest ferrr havin' bad fashins." Freddie had to cover his mouth to silence his laughter but Emily laughed openly. "Haha, fashins, that sounds like fat chins. Get it? 'Cause you have fat chinss. Go to HELL! You SUCK, KATIEKINS!" She abruptly hung up. Shit, I just used her secret childhood nickname. She's totally going to know it was me. Emily poured more vodka and swallowed most of it, then started laughing hysterically with Freddie, who thought the call was brilliant, and a nervous JJ.
When the laughter ended, JJ closed his computer game and went to bed. Emily and Freddie restrained their laughter as much as they could while they whispered nonsense, mostly about the prank call, until the snoring signaled to them that JJ was deeply asleep.
A noiseless, sullen mood fell over them as they began to sober up. It was 5:34 am and their fuckery had been finished, or so Emily thought. Freddie knew he had to cheer her up to take her mind off whatever was troubling her. There was something she had been hiding all night - something irrelevant to the usual Katie and Mum problems he vaguely knew of. He had pieced together small fragments of the problem from whenever drunken Emily accidentally slipped them with the intention of him forgetting when they sobered.
He managed to pull himself up until he was standing, albeit unsteadily. Emily watched curiously as he quietly shifted around his stuff until he dumped a plastic bag in front of her. "Left over from my art project," Freddie explained. Various colors of yarn were piled between Emily's outstretched legs. "What do you suppose we do with it?"
"Got any tape?" She mischievously smiled.
"I do..." He raised an eyebrow in her direction before turning on his feet and conveniently grabbing two rolls that he had in his bottom desk drawer - other leftover supplies. He helped Emily to her feet when she lifted her hands upwards in his direction. With the support of walls, furniture, and each other, they managed to walk into the hall with the yarn and tape. It felt like they were working for hours before they ran out of yarn. They had trapped themselves in his room, surrounded by a giant yarn web that connected all the dorm rooms and filled the hallway like an impossible maze or laser security system.
"Congratulations, Em. Job well done."
"Couldn't have done it without ya, Freddie," she smiled back at him and wrapped her arms around his lanky frame.
"How 'bout we call it a night?"
"I'm pretty sure it's morning now."
"Yeah... but I could do with some sleep."
Emily was cuddled into Freddie on his bed, happy she could be that close to her friend, knowing he understood they were only friends, and enjoy the physical comfort of contact. She felt safe in his arms. She was too tired to think specifically about Naomi, and that made her feel good.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" They heard shouting in the hallway just as they were about to fall asleep. Emily's head bounced on his chest as he laughed, making them both giggle even more. After the person in the hall shouted, more and more people got out of their rooms to see the commotion and were saying similar things, from what they could hear. Another night well spent.
"Goodnight Freddie."
"Goodnight Ems."
Author's Note: Just by the way, I've pulled that prank at school before with my senor class, among our many others. Let me know what you think - even if it's a word a two, I always appreciate it. Have a lovely day/night.