A/N: Hey guys, so sorry for the wait again! I haven't really been working any of my Skins stuff lately, but I'm trying to get back in to them. I should have a bit of time to catch up over the next few weeks as I'm off work after I managed to wreck my knees doing a few too many 60 hour weeks. Thanks again to everyone who's been reading and for the amazing feedback; I promise the next chapter won't take me so long to get up!
Fuck, I can't breathe! My lungs are on fire and my knees are aching as I bend over to try and catch my breath. I'm standing in front of a bus stop where an old lady with a poodle is sitting waiting to catch the bus out of town. She's looking at me with a sneer of disdain, like I'm some sort of hood who's going to rob her at knife point. I can't exactly blame her. My hood has fallen up over my head from bending over and my work-out clothes do give me a certain chav look. Not to mention my hair is plastered to my face with sweat and my cheeks are flushed from running.
The pain in my bad knee has spread down my shins and up my thighs and I have to slump down on to one of the plastic seats at the bus stop. The old woman and the poodle both shuffle to the left away from me, but I'm too preoccupied to care.
She's straight.
Emily fucking-gorgeous-flirty-as-fuck Fitch is straight! I'd thought maybe worst case scenario she'd tell me she was seeing someone, but the fact that she might be straight hadn't really been a major concern; not with how touchy-feely she is during our training sessions!
Christ, she's going to fucking hate me! There she is trying to help me and I go and fucking molest her! I need a cigarette. I'm bloody choking for one; though it's only as I'm digging through my pockets that I remember I gave up weeks ago. I give up my search, knowing it's futile, and sink my head in to my hands. I've screwed up big time. I've fucked up before when it comes to girls, but this takes the absolute biscuit for fucking up!
I jump as I feel my phone going off in my pocket and I'm just glad I had it on me when I ran out of Fitch Fitness. My bag and all of my stuff, including my house keys, are all currently sitting in my locker at the gym. Well they're just going to have to stay there because I can never show my face there ever again!
I feel utterly humiliated and also a little bit angry. Why do straight girls flirt like that? Why do they think it's fun to lead you on, build you up and then turn their noses up at you? I mean she knew I was gay, didn't she? I let the number six bus pass me by as I sit pondering my own question. Now that I think about it I can't remember expressly telling her I was gay, or talking about any girls or anything; but she'd had to have known, right? I'm not exactly a hundred footer, but she must have known!
Oh god, the queasiness in the pit of my stomach grows stronger as I realise she might not have had a clue I was gay. Maybe she wouldn't have been so up close and personal with me if she had? "Fuck." I curse to myself, startling the woman beside me and setting the poodle off barking. I glare at them both as I tug my hood back up and shove my hands deep in to my pockets, hunching over for added effect as I trudge out of the bus stop. My Nikes splash in the little puddles left over from this morning's rain. The clouds overhead are grey and heavy, like they're getting ready to burst.
I ignore all of the busses that pass me by and choose to walk home instead. My entire body is aching by the time I get back to the flat, the cold having seeped through the thin layers of clothing. I don't care. I'm numb by the time I climb the steps to the flat and slam my fist against the door to get Effy to open up. When the door opens the soft warm glow of the lamp in the hallway spills out in to the street and I'm met with a blast of warm air that makes me realise just how cold I really am.
The long walk home has given me time to think things over, and a few things have fallen in to place for me. Effy opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. "You fucking knew didn't you?"
"Want to give me a clue?" She shoots back, unfazed by my outburst as I shove my way in through the front door.
"Emily! You fucking know what I'm talking about so don't deny it!" She has the good grace to at least look a little abashed as she nods at me. It doesn't help though. I'm still seething inside.
"I didn't know for sure. When you mentioned Fitch Fitness the other day, I figured you'd just have to go and fall for the Fitch bitch-"
"Don't call her that." I growl at my best friend as I defend a girl I've only known for a few weeks. Effy's clearly taken aback by this. We've been friends for years and I think she expects me to back her up no matter what. I almost feel a little bit guilty, but Effy's response quashes any sympathy I might have felt towards her.
"You know she's straight, right? Unless going to the gym can help you grow a dick, you don't have a chance." Her words are like a slap in the face, but I don't take them lying down.
"You know what Eff? I get it now. Why he won't leave her for you…I sure as fuck wouldn't!"
Three days after our fight and Effy and I haven't spoken a word to each other. I've been working late every night this week and living out of my room. The place is a shit hole as I kick empty pizza boxes out of my way in search of a matching pair of socks. I hate the tension between me and Eff, but it's not like either of us is known for backing down and apologising. I'm still mad as hell with her, but it's not like one fight is going to end years of friendship. Maybe I'll bring a nice bottle of wine home with me tonight and see if we can mend some bridges; if all else fails I'll just drink the damn wine myself and move in to my mum's for a few days.
I'm running late for work as it is, so when I hear the doorbell go I leave it for Effy to get; it's probably Freddie popping in for an early morning shag anyway. I haven't seen him lately. Effy must have told him to keep a low profile around me, not that I think she would have told him I tried to kiss his future wife. He'll flip if he finds out what's been going on; the cheating bastard.
I'm just pulling on my favourite black shirt and buttoning it up when Effy calls for me. It's literally the first time I've heard her voice in days and it takes me by surprise. "What?" I snap back at her impatiently as I throw open my bedroom door. My room is the closest to the front door so as soon as I step out of it I'm met by the sight of our unexpected visitor. "Emily…" Seeing the little redhead standing there on my doorstep sends up an instant red flag. She's tried calling me a few times since I ran out of the gym, but three days of stewing about the kiss have just made me even more mortified and I still can't face her.
Of course there's always the possibility that she's not here to see me at all and she's found out what's going on between Effy and her soon to be husband. I suppose the fact that neither of them is throwing punches is probably a sign that Emily's here for me. "Hey." Emily greets me with a small wave. She looks more nervous than I feel. Effy staring at her probably isn't helping, and I'm not doing much more.
"Hi." I finally breathe out, at a loss for what else to say. "What are you doing here?" She looks sheepishly in Effy's direction and I could almost punch myself in the face, I'm so sodding stupid. It's not enough I embarrassed her by kissing her, now I expect her to announce it to the whole world too.
"You missed our last session. I wanted to check in, make sure everything was ok." She covers well. She has no idea that Effy knows everything. Hell, Effy knows more than any of us. "Do you have time to grab a cup of coffee or something, so we can talk?" Talk? Am I missing something? I'm the one who cocked up and she's the one making the effort to sort it out? God, Effy and I could really take a page out of her book. Why does she have to be so bloody nice? It just makes me feel even more shit about what's going on.
"Uh, yeah…I'll just grab my bag, give me a second." I dive back in to my room, pull on my suit jacket and pick up my leather satchel in record time. The last thing I want is the future Mrs Freddie McClair being left alone with Effy for too long.
"Bye darling." Effy chooses now of all times to start speaking to me again. I flip her off behind Emily's back as we're walking down the road. Effy just smirks at me. That's progress I suppose.
Emily and I walk in silence until we get to the coffee shop at the end of the road. I send my editor a hasty text, fobbing him off with some phony family emergency. I'm supposed to be handing an article in today, but it can wait an hour. "Your girlfriend seems nice." Emily starts and I almost choke on my boiling hot coffee.
"She's not…Effy and I are…we're just friends." Ok there might be some history there after the odd night out when we were younger, but for all intents and purposes we're just friends; maybe even less than that after this whole Freddie thing.
"I'm sorry." I blurt out as an awkward silence settles over us. "The other day, I shouldn't have tried to…I'm so sorry."
"Just forget it." Emily shrugs it off as if we just had some trivial misunderstanding; like I accidentally put sugar in her tea or something. "I didn't realise you were… I was actually a little bit flattered." Her throaty laugh and the way she ducks her head has my stomach in knots. Honestly, straight girls should come with a fucking health warning.
"You know I think this is the first time I've seen you in jeans." Emily points out as the conversation dies again. She's really trying her best to stop things being weird between us. I should be the one doing all of the leg work. I'm the one who stepped over the line; or you know, took a running jump over it.
"I'm still waiting to see you in anything other than a polo shirt." I tease, only realising it sounds like I'm flirting after the words have left my mouth. God this is hard. Why does she have to be so gorgeous? She laughs, but it's a little bit forced and I can see her fidgeting with a sugar packet. I hate the thought that I'm making her uncomfortable.
"You don't have to do this Em. You don't have to be nice to me. I can stop coming to the gym-"
"No!" Emily cuts me off. "I don't want you to stop coming to the gym. I meant what I said about wanting to help you. To be honest I thought we were kind of becoming friends."
"Only I got a little too friendly." For fuck's sake Campbell, keep your mouth shut! I swear I've got some sort of problem.
"Well we both know where we stand now, so how about we start over?" Emily suggests with that perfect little smile of hers. She sticks her hand out towards me. "I'm Emily Fitch and I'm a physical therapist."
"Nice to meet you Emily. I'm Naomi Campbell, and I'm a dick head."
"No you're not." Emily rolls her eyes at me with a chuckle and sips her coffee. "I really mean it Naomi, I'd like us to be friends."
"Me too." I'd like us to be a whole lot more, but it doesn't look like pigs are going to start flying any time soon. How the hell did I ever convince myself that I had a shot with her?
I just wish it was that easy for us to pick up where we left off as friends. Even if Emily's ok with me trying to kiss her, there's still the small matter of her being engaged to my best friend's boyfriend. I'm not sure how we're meant to work around that one; I still can't believe the tosser is cheating on her. "So I'll see you for yoga tomorrow?"
"Bright and early." I force myself to sound cheery about the prospect of a 6am yoga class with Emily. She's still smiling when we leave the coffee shop so I think I might have just pulled it off.
I head to the office after walking Emily to work and drop off the article I was supposed to have on my editor's desk by nine o'clock. The great thing about journalism is that I can work from home when I feel like it, so after a couple of less than productive hours at my desk I call it a day and go back to the flat. I pop in to Tesco and pick up a curry and some wine for dinner. Effy's working the late shift all this week so she's still sleeping when I get back. When she finally drags her lazy arse out of bed I've got dinner on the table and offer her a full glass of wine. She takes it without a word and just like that we've managed to call some sort of truce. We don't talk about Emily or Freddie all night. Effy and I have the same problem solving logic in life, in that we simply avoid talking about the problem until it either goes away or blows up in our faces.
Freddie turns up a couple of hours before Effy's supposed to leave for the club. I wonder where he told Emily he was going at this time of night to get out of the house. What kind of lies does he feed her? I know I shouldn't be thinking about this stuff, but it's constantly playing on my mind. I've been half tempted to call Cook up and invite him out for a drink to try and get him to spill some more details about Freddie and his fiancée.
"Hey Naomi." He greets me as he slips off his shoes and loosens his tie. He looks like he's comes straight from the office. He has some boring job in finance. I've never paid all that much attention to what he does to be honest.
"Hey." I nod back at him and pick up my wine glass from the coffee table. "I was just going to bed. I've got an early yoga class anyway."
"Yoga?" He scoffs at me as he flops down on the settee, taking my place and pulling Effy in against him. "Where's the real Naomi and what have you done with her?"
"Funny." My response is hardly my most witty, but I don't want to start an argument with him tonight. God knows what I'd end up coming out with.
The next morning I'm leaving the house for the gym just as Effy's getting back in from work. I'm still not sold on this yoga lark. The stretching is just damn painful to start with and I almost fall asleep as Emily takes us through the breathing techniques. The class is small, so I'm joined by a half a dozen other idiots who were up at the crack of dawn to come here.
"Watch your posture Campbell." Emily drops down behind me as I'm still trying to master the basic sitting position; three lessons in. "Here, bend this knee a little more so it's not putting so much pressure on your ASL." She leans over me to put my leg in to the right position. I take a deep breathe, and start counting to ten in my head. Honestly, you kiss a girl once and suddenly it's all you can think about whenever they're within a fifty foot radius.
"What's my ASL? Isn't that like my broadband connection or something?"
"It's the anterior cruciate ligament, this one here." She runs her fingers along the outside of my knee to demonstrate. Fuck, I had to ask didn't I?
"Right next to my patella."
"You're learning." She winks at me before moving on to the woman beside me to help her. She's standing on one leg with the other wrapped around her neck; it looks like she'd be better off with a chiropractor than a physical therapist, even a very hands on one. Emily's still very touchy-feely with me, that hasn't stopped; which is a blessing and a curse. It shows Emily's not freaked out about me being gay, even after I tried to kiss her, but at the same time it's agonising to have her touching me when I know there's nothing in it.
By the time the lesson ends I'm dying to run off, but Emily corners me. "Hey, you made some good progress today. You might even be on to your second pose by next week."
"I don't think yoga's my thing." I admit. "Maybe I should take up something easier, like bull fighting?"
"Maybe you should just try harder at this?" She says it in a tongue-in-cheek way, but that doesn't stop me from being offended.
"I am trying!" I object, a little hurt by the accusation that I'm not. "I bet you a tenner I can learn to do the…the crane! I'll learn the crane by next week!" I cross my arms over my chest smugly.
"The crane?" Emily smirks at me, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "You have no idea what that is, do you?"
"Of course I do." I bluff.
"Really? So you'll be able to do this by next week?" She drops down to the mat and puts her arms out in front of her to take her weight as she arches her back and brings her knees up to her shoulders while keeping her toes straight. Her balance is perfect and she doesn't even wobble despite the fact that the muscles in her arms are straining against her skin.
"Fuck, I think I got confused with that one out of the Karate Kid." I'm stubborn, but there is no way I could learn to do that in a year, never mind a week. I have zero balance and little flexibility, hence my utter lack of progress in Emily's yoga class. She just laughs at me as she gets herself out of the position with the same ease she got in to it. Damn that girl is really flexible; Freddie is one lucky bastard.
God, I really need to stop thinking about stuff like that. I'm not sure how long I can keep this up; pretending to be happy to be her friend when all I want to do is kiss her again. It's fucking unbearable.