On Knots and Unravelling
Author’s notes: Well, this took a while. This was written for the BigBang, became something enormous. This is a story about what could have happened in S3 if Katie and Naomi had been best mates at middle school, rather than hating each other. ~Events unfold. The only other significant alteration is that Naomi hasn’t loved Emily since she was twelve, mainly because that felt like utter nonsense. Also, I should warn you, if you are reading this because you’re interested in Thomas, this probably isn’t the fic for you.
Some acknowledgements are desperately needed.
Thank you to cobalt_siren and
jules2112 , who volunteered to have a glance at the early stages of this, and gave me the confidence to continue. And, of course,
shan_3414 , who set up the BigBang that gave me the excuse to write something ~significant, for once in my life.
Particular thanks go to crackfoxx , for yelling and CAPSLOCKING WITH ENTHUSIASM at me whenever I thought I’d bitten off more than I could chew, and to em_sh , for finding all the correct parts funny, shipping the right people, and generally being fabulous. Couldn’t have done it without you two, ILU guys. I am your bitch for the rest of time.
And undying gratitude goes to prunesquallormd , who signed up to beta 10k, got over five times the amount, and DID NOT BLINK. It’s been an absolute pleasure, Si. Sorry my tenses sometimes went awol and I have a blind spot for commas. You’re a complete gent.
And to Katie and Naomi, who I reckon could have been the greatest friendship the world has seen.
On Knots and Unravelling
Chapter 1/14
‘Come on then genius, go get your envelope and then we can get started.’ Katie holds up the bag in front of Naomi’s face, and it clinked ominously. When Naomi didn’t move Katie steps back, uncertain what the delay was, before glancing around at the surroundings.
‘Campbell, seriously, I know this is a big moment in your life story or whatever, but you have no audience other than me, so drop the melodramatic shit, get your GCSEs, and then we can get the fuck away from this place forever. Also, if you’re going to lean on walls looking pathetic, you need a fag, otherwise you look retarded.’
Naomi ignores all this, looks at the bit of paper in Katie’s left hand. ‘What you get?’
‘Ugh.’ Katie glances at the printout again. ‘Some Cs, some Ds. B in Art, B in Drama. Enough for Roundview. Whatever. Can you please go a pick up your handful of As now?’
Naomi grins despite the nerves clawing her insides. ‘ Nice one Kate. Proper little secret genius.’
Katie bites the inside of her cheek and looks away. ‘Yeah, well, whatever. Now, get the fuck on before my arm falls off.’
Naomi pushes herself up off the wall, but doesn’t make much more effort than that, instead watches a bus pull up with careful deliberation. In the corner of her eye Katie huffily drops the bag and crosses her arms, seemingly only seconds away from tapping her foot. As the passengers disembark Naomi receives a shove to the shoulder.
‘Look, go in with Emily, make sure she doesn’t forget how to talk.’
Naomi looks back to Katie, distracted. ‘You didn’t come with her?’
Katie shrugged. ‘Danny.’
Naomi winces at the name, remembering the conversation she needed to have with Katie today. Katie rolls her eyes in anticipation of the usual Danny snipe, and shoves Naomi again. ‘Go on, if hopeless can manage it...’
‘Lay off Kay, she’s not hopeless.’
Katie’s reply about abusive sibling rights is lost on Naomi, who jogs a little to catch up with Emily.
----
The results room is tightly packed with other pupils, most of whom Naomi will be glad to get rid of next year. When Naomi looks around for Emily she’s already gone, it takes Naomi a couple of moments to locate the red of her hair again.
‘You nervous then?’
Emily looks at her like she is stupid. ‘Obviously. Some of us actually revised for these.’
Naomi restrains from rolling her eyes. ‘Right. Obviously. So, if you revised you should have no problems.’
Emily moves away from her slightly to open her envelope, whilst Naomi, heart pounding in her throat, tears hers open with her teeth.
And they’re...fine. They’re fine. She’s dipped under her predicted grade in a few subjects, but nothing disastrous. She grins once, before looking over at Emily, who is tucking away the sheet in her satchel.
‘All right?’
Emily nods, and smiles slightly despite herself. Naomi feels her grin double, and she gestures Emily out of the room. ‘Come on then.’
It takes them a while to work their way out of school, as plenty of teachers want to wish Emily good luck. They all ignore Naomi of course, who obnoxiously whistles the Great Escape theme tune next to Emily’s elbow.
Emily waits until the school doors before grabbing Naomi’s arm, yanking her to a standstill. Startled, Naomi redoubles her grip on her results before raising her eyebrows at Emily. The height difference seems more noticeable on Emily than it does on Katie, and Emily doesn’t bother looking Naomi in the eyes, instead stares out the glass at the carpark as she speaks.
‘Look. I’m glad you’ve done all right, and I’ve already listened to mum have a joy meltdown over Katie’s getting into Roundview. But you and my sister are idiots. You could have messed things right up by titting about during revision time. Katie would have got double the results if she hadn’t been getting pissed in the park with you the whole time.’
Naomi’s about to interrupt with a defence about drunken revision games and the importance of relaxing, but this has the feel of a practiced speech, so she allows Emily space to plough on. The sunshine through the windows is really warm, and Naomi can feel her face start to glow red.
‘The pair of you are a disaster together, you don’t take anything seriously. And you might be able to blag your way through A-levels Naomi, but Katie can’t. So just... tone it down a bit at Roundview. Ok? Otherwise you’ll fuck it up for her. And then I’ll definitely think you’re a twat.’
It is probably the longest thing Emily has ever said to Naomi, and it stumps her for a moment. Naomi fumbles for the celebratory fag she has tucked behind her ear, pats her pockets for the lighter as she talks. ‘So you don’t already think I’m a twat? That’s a turn up for the books. Also, have you considered becoming a teacher? Cos you have excellent condescending speech techniques Em, I never knew you had it in you...’
Emily has already left, throwing ‘tosser’ over her shoulder as she pushes open the doors. Naomi walks a few paces after her, before sitting heavily on the school steps, inhaling smoke as she watches Emily walk off. The usual pang of regret sneaks up on her the way it always does minutes after she’s been bitchy to the other twin. Although, in her defence, Emily had clearly started it that time. Besides, bit soon for doom and gloom, minutes after exam results.
Naomi watches Emily all the way to the school gates, and only when she is lost around the corner does Naomi drag herself back to reality.
Katie is yelling at her from the footpath, waving the off license bag like Naomi has finally taken leave of her senses. Naomi checks the exam read-out again, before hauling herself off the ground, wondering whether they’ll be able to find an ice cream van before Katie breaks open the Apple Sourz.
--
When people asked Naomi why the two of them were such good friends, she usually struggled to explain. And after a few failed attempts, she began to get pissed off that people thought they had the right to question who her friends were, what she saw in Katie in the first place. So she stopped explaining. People either got it, or they didn’t.
(They usually didn’t.)
Besides, friendships, human contact in any form, were always impossible to understand from the outside. Inquirers would have to climb inside her own head, live the friendship in real time, to get any kind of handle on it.
Naomi stopped having to explain shortly after the start of year 10, when a very earnest boy in the year above cornered her after Maths and suggested that Naomi was settling for a second rate standard of friendship, and she should be hanging out with people on her own intellectual plane. He’d gotten all the way up to magnanimously offering to introduce her to the debate club before Naomi had decided punch him in the balls.
She'd received a week’s worth of lunchtime detentions for it, and had to sit through endless lectures on choosing her friends more wisely from teachers who knew nothing about her. Each time, Katie had turned up at the classroom door and flicked Vs at the teacher when their back was turned.
In the end, it had been worth it. People stopped asking. And besides, she’d never even missed out on lunch, as Katie had sent Emily off to pick up double rations from the canteen. They’d spent the five minutes free time afforded to Naomi in smokers’ corner, and Naomi had inhaled sandwiches while Katie continued to try to develop an addiction in order to have a legitimate reason to spend quality time with Hayden Briggs in Year 11.
But, if Naomi had been pushed to explain the friendship, she’d have been reduced to recounting various instances, hoping a body of evidence would substitute for a clear evaluation.
---
Naomi had joined the school at the end of Year 8. This was because her mother, selfish twat, moved halfway across the country to maximise her chances of meeting Mr Right in the hippy trippy community, or something. Something stupid and retarded and designed to make Naomi’s life difficult.
Everybody already had friends. Like, loads. Entire fucking social networks. Not that Naomi particularly wanted friends, but some kind of opportunity to integrate would have been nice. That way she could have decided she hated them all at her own pace, rather than having it forced upon her. But apparently she had the wrong kind of bag. And was a bit weirdly tall, and said the wrong things in lessons. So nobody bothered with her.
Whatever. Bitches.
A couple of months in, she’d made the mistake of saying something in class, which the teacher had proclaimed the smartest thing ever, or some such bollocks. And that’s when it’d gotten to her. The whispers, the looks. She didn’t fucking care, but it’d been a shit day already. She left.
The toilets on the Humanities corridor were the least monitored in school. Predictable then, that another girl was in there, wasting time.
Naomi had been staring at her own reflection for some time before the girl spoke.
‘You fucking off anytime soon then? Cos I’m waiting to have a fag, and if I light up with you here your clothes will stink.’
Naomi shrugged, to indicate there were bigger concerns in her life. The girl tutted under her breath, and started fumbling with a lighter, succeeding on the fourth attempt. She coughed a little, and then leaned out the window to exhale. Eyes back on Naomi, she gestured towards her.
‘You always this emo?’
Naomi rolled her eyes, reached up over the girl to open the top window too. ‘No. Just, bad day, yeah?’
The girl nodded in gratitude at Naomi’s height, and leaned out the window again. ‘Right. Bit shit, being the new girl, I guess.’
Naomi permitted herself a sigh, before, in an attempt to not be emo, turned to the girl. ‘Which one are you again? Sorry, you look too similar to...’
The girl smirked at her, and looked down at herself. Naomi did the same, as her brain caught up with her mouth. Too short skirt, too low tie, skiving in the toilets before lunch. The girl’s face said ‘duh’ before Naomi could think it.
‘Right. Katie.’
‘Congrats, Sherlock.’ Katie paused, and waved the lit fag under Naomi’s nose. ‘Want to share? I won’t have time to finish it before the bell.’
Naomi struggled for a moment, because this felt like it could be peer pressure, which she assumed was on a par with genocide, the way teachers talked about it.
‘No thanks. I’ve never... I mean, I don’t, so...’
Katie nodded to herself, inspecting the tip of the fag. ‘That’s probably a good idea. It’s fucking disgusting. Like, this is my sixth, yeah, and it still tastes like shit.’
Naomi grinned before she could help it. ‘Your sixth? Wow. Impressive.’
For a second it could have gone either way, but Katie smirked and rolled her eyes.’ I know, right? I should get a fucking medal.’
The drop beneath the window made Naomi feel dizzy, as she reached over to pinch the fag. And Katie was right, it did taste like shit.
--
A week later, Katie moved to sit next to Naomi in English. Naomi maintained a sotto-voice running commentary on every stupid thing about Michael Morpurgo the teacher said, whilst Katie developed a stitch trying not to laugh.
It went from there, really.
--
It was half three before she worked up to it.
Katie still couldn’t smoke for shit. Naomi watches, again and again, the pattern: brief inhale, wince, hasty exhale, stifled cough. The mixer had run out, and they’d agreed that it was a bit early for neat vodka, GCSE results or no. So they’d fallen into silence, as Katie fought her way to the end of another fag.
‘Kay. Seriously. Stop fucking smoking. You’ve been trying for forever. Accept that you’re immune to nicotine, move on.’
Katie sighs and passes the fag over, motions for Naomi to finish it. ‘I know, I know. Jesus. I told you, if I try hard enough, one day it’ll work. Same thing you think about bad fashion.’
Naomi smiles, before flicking the fag away. ‘Your sister called me a twat today.’
‘Oh god, what did you do this time? Accidentally step on an innocent baby insect?’
Emily’s expression still rankled with Naomi, who had since decided that she’d never done anything bad to Emily, making Naomi entirely in the right.
‘She said I’m ruining your education.’
Katie boggled at her, before dissolving into laughter. ‘Oh god, you’re ruining my education? Jesus. I thought I was ruining yours?’
Naomi twists on the bench, lies down so her Converse are squashed neatly up against Katie’s skirt. Katie stares at them for a bit before sighing and shuffling further away. The bench gives the pair a view of half of Bristol, terraced houses stretching away from them. A bunch of school aged kids skid by on various sets of wheels, and Naomi closes her eyes until she can’t hear them anymore.
This probably isn’t going to be pretty, she decides.
‘Kate. I saw Danny eating some girl’s face last night.’
When she gets no answer, she looks up, down the other end of the bench where Katie has gone unnaturally still.
‘Sorry. But you have to get rid of him. He’s a complete tosser.’
Katie’s standing up now, making a show of looking for her things. ‘Right, well. That’s what you’d like, isn’t it, Naomi? Just because he isn’t a fucking genius doesn’t make him a bad person, you know?’
Naomi closes her eyes again, waves her hand dismissively. ‘No, this time I’m not criticising his tiny brain. I’m criticising the fact that he’s a bastard. Jesus, Katie, you can do so much better than him. Sit down.’
The bench flexes slightly underneath them as Katie sits again.
‘You’re sure?’
Naomi sighs, and decides it isn’t such an unreasonable time for vodka after all. Reaching for the bottle, she puts one hand on Katie’s shoulder.
‘Look, you can either believe me or believe him. I get it. But out of the two of us, who’s more likely to tell the truth?’
Katie mumbles something inaudible, before snatching the bottle away from Naomi and taking a long pull. Naomi smiles slightly at her, and then turns her eyes away, watching the clouds scud across the sky. Long minutes later Katie hiccoughs.
‘Tossers. Both of you. Him because he’s a prick, you because normal people try to find a nicer way to tell their friend their boyfriend is a prick.’
Naomi nods in agreement, before taking the bottle again. ‘Sorry about that. But you’ll live. He was fairly epically retarded.’
Katie’s eyes are still wet, and her expression wavers for a moment, but the slight snort is unmistakable. ‘Jesus Christ Campbell, you’re the worst friend in the world.’
Naomi grins. ‘Where’s this party tonight then? I’ll get spectacularly wankered to make it up to you.’
‘Fuck, you best had, I could do with a laugh.’
--
Why did she always think she could hold her alcohol? What the fuck was up with that? Self imposed failure, Campbell.
She’s lost Katie. In fact, Katie had been dangling from the neck of Hayden, so Katie had probably lost her. Which was typical. Hour of need, right here. Who’s house was this anyway? Who could she possibly know with such awful taste in scatter cushions?
Naomi leans dangerously through a doorway, but grabs hold of the frame in time to avoid further disgrace. Someone changes the CD and it is a song she knows, so she whoops under her breath and considers dancing, before deciding that she mustn’t intimidate others with her excellent dance moves, which were, frankly, faultless. Pow.
Water. Water would be a good idea.
It’s in the kitchen that Naomi finds Emily, who is giggling with some girl that she doesn’t quite recognise, but decides to bestow a grin upon anyway.
‘Emily! The other twin. You seen the other? Also, who’s shitty house is this? Look, even the tiling is offending my eyes, see, I can’t stare directly at it for more than two seconds.’
Naomi is busy demonstrating by holding a hand up in front of one eye and then the other when Emily thrusts a glass of water at her chest.
‘Jesus, Naomi. Why is it always like this? Katie lost, and you pissed and offending everyone around you.’
Either the glass of water is really big or Emily is really small. Naomi concentrates, and then arches an eyebrow whilst taking the giant glass off miniature Emily.
‘No Em, it isn’t a bad thing to be my second favourite twin. Katie’s first, true, but out of all the other twins in the world, you are second. Also, where did that girl go?’
‘It’s her house, Naomi. That you called shitty.’
Just as Naomi is looking for the exit before Emily can tell her off again, Emily giggles suddenly and places one hand over Naomi’s eye. ‘Remember! You can’t look at it for more than two seconds.’
Squinting carefully at Emily, Naomi realises she’s looking a bit worse for wear too. Drunken Emily! The rarest Pokemon of them all. Naomi grabs a napkin from the table, and claps it over her eye like it is about to fall out.
‘Quick, find the exit before we develop pattern induced migraines.’
Emily clearly has a cool head in a crisis, because she grabs an open bottle of wine before reaching out for Naomi’s hand.
‘Come on, pisshead.’
--
Naomi feels a bit better outside, where the night air is cooler and the music isn’t as loud. They’re sitting on the wall at the bottom of the garden, half shielded by the shed. Her head is still spinning though, and she has to hang on the wall quite carefully.
Emily’s quite nice to sit next to whilst drunk. Katie would try to make her play fuck, marry, or kill with names she’s never heard of, or recount Naomi’s latest drunken act and why it was hilarious. Emily just sits quietly, scuffing moss off the wall with her heel. It’s peaceful. Naomi needs more peaceful in her life.
‘So. Are you going to stop hanging around with Katie?’
Oh Jesus. This again. Naomi thinks about walking off, but doesn’t trust her legs. It’d be nice, if at some point in the future, Emily could get through twenty four hours without registering her disapproval of Naomi.
‘Sod off Emily. I’m not Satan.’ This doesn’t make much sense, but Emily understands the point she’s making, because she passes over the wine in a placating gesture.
‘I’m not saying you’re Satan. I’m saying you and Katie as a combination... I dunno. I think you’d both be different if you weren’t always...’
Emily waves her hands vaguely, before stealing a fag from the packet Naomi had just fished out. Naomi tosses her the lighter too, before tilting her head back to look at the moon.
Emily’s a better smoker than Katie, though Naomi would never pass that info on. In fact she’s not even sure Katie’s aware Emily has the occasional fag on the sly. Sometimes Naomi’s certain Katie’s image of her sister has become so fixed she is deliberately blind to any contrary evidence.
Emily had stopped being a permanent part of Katie’s entourage at the start of year 11. She announced one day after a revision lesson that she wouldn’t be having lunch with them anymore, because the constant banter between Naomi and Katie was boring her to tears. Naomi remembered nodding in silent approval, because watching two people have an almost entirely insular conversation must be pretty dull.
Katie decided this was another symptom of Emily’s hopeless nature, and had been gearing up for a royal kick off, before Naomi had pointed out that the whole twin thing that Katie insisted on clinging to was ‘a bit fucking weird, Katie. Especially if Emily wants out.’
Katie hadn’t spoken to either of them for a week.
Emily dealt with this better than Naomi, and by the end of the week she had a new bunch of friends who seemed to believe they had pulled Emily from a burning building. Naomi had caught them pointing at Katie one day in the dining hall whilst Emily was still getting her lunch. She’d yelled at them across the room, and developed a new set of enemies to add to her collection. But Katie was speaking to her again by the end of the day.
And Emily was gone. Katie got used to it, especially after Naomi announced an embargo on ‘ridiculous Emily bitching.’
In fact, on reflection, Emily would probably still be pinned to Katie’s side without Naomi. Therefore, a lessening in hostilities should be in order. She twists slightly on the wall.
‘You should be nice to me, you know. For helping Katie get over your blatant twin betrayal.’
Emily deliberately blows a cloud of smoke in her face. ‘What? Oh, geez, you’re proper gone, aren’t you.’
Naomi wags a finger. ‘Not the point. Point is... point is without me you’d still be hanging around with Katie.’
‘Fuck off. Not true. Without you condoning ...maybe Katie wouldn’t be such a fucking bitch all the time.’
And of course Naomi knows Emily has probably thought that for some time now, but it still hurts, that even Katie’s own sister thinks Katie is a total of only her bad qualities, and none of her good.
‘Fucking...moral high ground fascist. Just because she’s not you, perfect Fitch, doesn’t mean she’s awful.’
Emily stands up, tosses the fag butt away into the bushes.
‘I’m not trying to have a fight with you. I’m just saying, you’re not such a twat away from her, Naomi. So maybe, if you don’t plan on being an eternal twat, you should hang around with her less. Then she could become less of a...’
Naomi retrieves the nearly empty bottle of wine from the base of the wall, stands up on the second attempt. ‘Right, that’s nice. You’re trying to save us from each other. Lovely. Lovely Emily, once again. I’m going to fuck off now, so as not to continue to be a twat in your personal space.’
Emily looks like she’s about to say something else, but Naomi has never been able to have a proper disagreement with her, so she walks away rather than weaken.
The wine burns her throat, but she finishes it anyway.
--
Three Bacardi Breezers later, and she thinks she might be snogging Hayden.
Quite an unfortunate turn of events really. Getting on for spectacularly stupid, actually.
Someone grabs her arm, and is pulling her away from Hayden and his awful, grabby hands. They’ve got red hair, but aren’t yelling, which only leaves one, really.
Naomi is guided to the gutter outside, where her stomach finally rebels and she’s chucking up the night’s disasters. Her hair is held back for her, and she tries to remember to say thank you before another wave takes over her.
When she can open her eyes again, she’s sat on the pavement, propped up by a letterbox. Emily’s standing over her, offering yet more water. Naomi tries to smile thanks, but Emily’s having none of it.
‘Idiot. Think I found you before too many people could have seen, else we’d have to deal with a Katie moment.’
Naomi snorts unwillingly. ‘She wouldn’t mind.’
Emily frowns at her. ‘She would, Nae.’
A car pulls up, and Emily hauls Naomi skyward, opens the cab door with her free hand. Naomi recognises her own address being reeled off, before Emily motions her head at Naomi to get in.
Naomi places a clumsy hand on top of Emily’s head. ‘I wish you didn’t hate me so much.’
Emily sighs, carefully removes Naomi’s hand for her. ‘I don’t hate you. I just wish... things were different. You could be different, I think.’
Naomi gets in, because that is as close to a truce as she’ll probably get tonight. ‘I wouldn’t, you know. I’m pretty much an idiot whoever I hang out with.’
Emily’s smiling as the cab door closes, but then the car moves the motion becomes too much, and Naomi has to close her eyes again.
--
Summer drifts.
It was this summer that Naomi had sworn she was going to learn to speak Catalan, or go on a protest march, or buy a bonsai tree.
Instead, they spend it on a park bench. Katie establishes a careful daily rota system of clothing, so as to avoid unsightly tan lines. Naomi burns.
Katie gives up smoking, with no struggle whatsoever. Naomi concentrates very hard, and manages to avoid saying ‘told you so’ for the entire holiday. Katie, in silent thanks, manages not to pass out in horror when Naomi finds another charity shop floral jacket in early August.
They don’t do much, beyond play hot or not with unsuspecting passersby and developing a taste for Pimms. Gina, over Eggs Benedict one morning, tells Naomi she is wasting her youth. Naomi decides it’s worth it.
Chapter two