where were you while we were getting high? . open

[emily annette evans]

She’d heard it said before, that to be a dancer you needed to live and breathe ballet; that your whole life needed to be dancing. If that was the case- well then she may as well just stop trying now. She wasn’t that sort of girl. She couldn’t commit herself like that to dance. She loved it, that went without saying, but she wasn’t about to forgo parties, friends, her life just for her dancing. She was never going to be one of those perfect ballet bot girls, who had perfect technique and devoted their entire lives to the activity without ever experiencing life. In Emily’s opinion, those girls had no heart, no passion. Dance was about passion. It was self expression. How can you express anything real when all you are about is ballet?

Of course, it could be argued that Emily Evans wasn’t about anything deep or real but that, well now that would be a gross miss-conception based on the fact sex means nothing to her. So many people put sex on a pedestal. Think of it as sacred, and think that anyone who doesn’t see it that same way is a horrid person with no soul. Emily had long since grown tired of being looked down upon for who she chose to spread her legs for. It was no body’s business except hers and the person she was going to engage in the act with. She was through caring about being judged for that. Haters gonna hate, and Emily was just going to do her thing.

Emily liked to tell herself that her late night dance sessions were a result of the little commitment she did have to training in between lesions. But to be perfectly frank; they kept her sane. When she was dancing, the world was taken apart and put together right again. Everything made sense and everything was good. She needed that feeling. Sometimes it was the promise of dancing that night that got her through mindless days of school and the idiotic drool that her peers tried to pass as real thoughts and issues. Honestly it astounded her the complete bull-twang some people fussed over. Seriously, people made life far more complicated then it needed to be. Then again, maybe Em didn’t make it complicated enough.

She knew how weird this must look. Emily Evans, hartlet about town, gay father- sneaking into the church after nine o’clock at night. Perhaps people that saw her would think she was going to play in secret for her already condemned soul? Well that wasn’t the case, in fact it was hopeful thinking on anyone’s behalf. The truth of it was simple; she needed a place to dance. As large as her house was, there wasn’t really enough space to dance. And they locked the community centre dance studios after the last class of the night. The church was the only building in town actually that didn’t get locked. Something about God should be accessible to people at all times. Which Emily didn’t get at all. If you truly believed, why do you need a building to talk to God? Whatever gave people comfort though.

It wasn’t the first time she’d taken advantage of the church in the dead of night, and other times had been for much less savoury reasons. Tonight though, her intensions were as pure as they could be. Dressed in only ballet tights, a leotard and an over-sized hooded jacket, Emily slipped into the silent building. The lights were always left dim, but that was okay. Dim was enough light for her. Placing her bag on a pew, she sat down next to it. Slipping off her orange converse. Instead replacing them with soft pink toe shoes. While she didn’t stick strictly to ballet, Emily felt her mood swinging to the more classical form in her arsenal tonight. She found different styles of dance worked better for different releases of energy and emotion, and tonight she felt like being a graceful ballerina.

That was another good thing about the church- a pew worked well in place of a bar. Standing up, she moved around to the back of the pew. Placing her leg up on the wooden back as she stretched forward. Was it strange it felt so good to stretch her muscles to the point of pain? Probably, what Whatever, you know.

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[lissxlogical]

There was really no other reason for Juliet to go to the church other than to look for Emily. The place gave her the creeps. She'd never really liked the whole religion idea, the idea that someone was always watching her, scrutinizing every little thing she did. People did that enough. She didn't need some omnipresent being doing it too, and without her knowledge at that. Plus, the people behaved as if they were in a cult. They got up early on certain days, sang certain songs, refrained from 'bad influences' simply because they were told to.. Jules had too much to do and too many places to be. She didn't have to for silly little things like church attendance, and the word had never been in her vocabulary to begin with.


Even if the brunette had believed in salvation, she was sure that she was way past that line. She was at the point of no return. She was a drinker, a smoker, no longer a virgin, a depressive, and bitch. She was every priest's nightmare. The vatican would even bar her entrance. But damnit, she was alive. Or at least for the most part. She had the freedom to do what, or whom, she wanted and when, and the freedom to choose what was right and wrong. As far as morals went, she was still in pretty good standings. She hadn't ever purposefully hurt anyone, or done something just to cause harm. The only living thing she'd ever harmed was herself. Surely that couldn't have been too big of a sin.


Stepping up the stone steps with an eerie echo, she glanced around, a frown pulling at her lips. She'd really wished Em wouldn't come here. Then she wouldn't be forced to look for her here, and wouldn't be so creeped out in the dead of the night. Jules pulled her jacket around her slim frame a bit more and paused by the church door to light a cigarette. "Bloody fucking chain smoker," Oops. She wasn't supposed to curse here. With a shrug, she let it go; karma had long since caught up with her. Taking a long drag, she waited for a moment, glancing around the empty streets. Leave it to Em to pick the creepiest fucking place to possibly be on a damn dark night.


Juliet had never really been afraid of being attacked, per se, but the thought of what was lingering without her knowledge was unsettling. She hated going anywhere she couldn't see. If she was walking into a room, the lights had to be on. In fact, she couldn't even sleep in the dark. It was silly and pitiful, but she feared what she couldn't see. No, the brunette had always packed a knife, thought few really knew it, stuffed in the bottom of her purse, something she'd had for years. She'd knicked it accidentally in a rush to leave some guy's room. She'd grabbed her clothes off the floor in a rush, the closed knife pulled up with them, and had only found it later. From that day forward, she kept it on her.


Finally stepping toward the door, she pushed the heavy wood, a cigarette still poised between her fingers and a hand pulling at her shirt. She still smelt of the cologne that some guy had rubbed off onto her at the bar she'd haunted earlier. At least it was decent cologne. Cocking a brow, she took a few steps down the aisles, she placed that same hand on her hip, voice low, but echoing through the cavernous church. "Damn, I am good. Fancy seeing a cute little ballerina like you here," Okay, so she was a pain in the ass, but she knew it.


She sauntered up the few steps, leaning casually against a pew in typical Juliet fashion. "I really wish you wouldn't fucking come here. I hate this place," It was an empty, really meaningless comment. She'd said it almost every time she found Em at the church, and it had almost solely grown commonplace to say it, part of the routine. Grinning wickedly, she tossed her hair in a nonchalant way, a genuinely happy way that only Emily could provoke. It was true. She was happy when she was with her best friend, she felt as if she could be herself and her counterpart wouldn't give a damn. "What does a girl have to do to get a bit of attention from her best friend? I haven't seen you all day."

[emily annette evans]

It should have bothered Emily when she heard foot-steps. She should have started to freak out and try and hide. Or try and come up with some reason why she was abusing the church’s good nature. At least that’s what most people would do. They’d skitter about and freak out. Not Emily though. To be perfectly honest she didn’t actually care who saw her in the church. The priest (or whatever he was called..) himself could walk in and catch her and Emily would just laugh and shrug her shoulders. She really didn’t care who caught her doing the things she did. What could they do? Yell at her ? Yeah, really scary. Ha ha.

That was really the thing that tied Emily and Juliet together. Sure they had some of the same likes and dislikes and they both liked to party. It was the way they saw life though; the fact that they both celebrated doing as they pleased that drew them together. It was as though Jules just got her. She understood the desire to do crazy things and not care what anyone else thought. Juliet would never judge any choice Emily made. Unlike the other people in her life; Juliet didn’t care what she did (or who she did as the case often was with Emily). It was nice, not being under the constant judgemental eye of her other peers.

Hearing the other girl, Em rolled her eyes. Juliet knew perfectly well that Emily was not the typical cute little ballerina. Without looking up from her stretches, Emily held up her left hand. Curling all bar her middle finger down in a rather rude gesture. Really though, it was the only reaction Juliet was going to get while she was being a cow and calling Em names like that. To be honest, if it was anyone else, Emily probably would have to plot their demise then and there. Juliet though, she had a fee pass as far as Emily was concerned. That girl could get away with a lot. Anything really. She loved her that much. Which was saying something.

Wrinkling her nose, Emily swapped legs, continuing her stretching. “I’m sorry? Do you have a negative remark to say about my dance studio of choice? Because I don’t think I can respond to the girl who’s leaving me after the summer. Leaving me all alone in the hell-hole of a school. Really, how dare you graduate the year before me. No, that’s just not something I can forgive all that easily you know.” While she spoke she carried on her business. Stretching out her thigh muscles. While she was speaking in jest- there was truth in her words. She was actually heart-broken at the fact Juliet was older, and therefore would not be around the school next year.

It was no surprise Em didn’t like school too much. Sure, flirting with teachers to put them off was fun. As was a quickie in the gym. Really though, without Juliet around there was only so many sources of entertainment available. There wasn’t exactly a ton of people willing to go along with everything she suggested, and there was only so many times toying with the same person could be fun. Bottom line; she needed Juliet and it just wasn’t fair.

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[lissxlogical]

There were, Juliet had decided, a minimum of three reasons that she'd first decided Emily was worth spending time over. The first was the she was hilarious without meaning to be. Maybe it was that they had the same kind of humor, or maybe it was that Jules just tended to laugh at people far too much. Either way, it seemed as if Em didn't have to do much of anything to make Juliet laugh, ever. It helped on terrible days, days when she wanted to punch someone in the face, all Em had to do was make a face or a remark or something, and she'd burst into laughter, effectively killing her bad mood altogether.


The second was that Emily didn't give a damn what kind of situation Juliet would get herself into. They were concerned for each other, to some extent, but they knew what each other could handle. If Jules wanted to go get smashing drunk, Em was surely not going to stop her, in fact she might come along. She didn't feel as if Em was constantly hanging over her shoulder, the little devil with the pitchfork (because she certainly was not the little white angel) telling her that everything she was doing was bad. Juliet knew that alcohol and cigarettes and pot were bad for you. She didn't quite give a fuck.


The final reason was that she didn't have to watch what she said around Em. The little harlot cursed just as much as she did, they didn't care what everyone else thought, and polite manners had long since gone out the door. It was why, when Emily flipped her off nonchalantly, Jules had no qualms about murmuring, "Awh, anytime, darling, though I've just gotten through with one myself," Most of those little pompous, prude girls would gasp, sputter 'I'm not that way' and run away. Em knew she was really just fucking around. A smartass response was always in season to the ever popular 'fuck you' finger gesture.


Tilting her head to the side, she watched Em stretch with a bit of jealousy. She'd never taken up typical habits like that. Even if she did make fun of her friend for it, she was really jealous of how magnificent she was. Jules' only talent was that she could paint. She rarely would finish anything and always seemed to make a mess while doing so, but it was calming. Her hands were always spattered with some bits of paint, stained here and there by some sort of ink. So, what was that, one normal talent? She could paint, drink, smoke, fuck, and throw knives quite nicely. Yeah, really well-rounded, Jules. Good job.


Shaking her head, Jules crossed her arms and stood up straight. Okay, so she was leaving earlier than Em. For the last year, she'd held that over her head. All the dark brunette had been able to do is shrug and say 'I'm sorry,' and it was never enough. She could understand Em's irritation. The school at Lampton really did suck the life out of everything. Biting her lower lip, she glanced down at the wooden floors, scuffed and darkened with age. When Em had finished her spiel about how terrible she was for leaving, Jules glanced back up, a smirk pulling at her lips. She wasn't one for affection really, but sometimes the situation merited it.


Raising a brow, she took a step forward, only a few away from her friend, close enough to go through with her next few moves. "You done yet? Complaining really isn't becoming of you," She jumped forward, knocking Em off balance and smothering her in hugs. Christ, she could be an irritating little bugger if she wanted to be. Swinging her from side to side, Jules laughed, eventually losing her balance and falling into another pew. "Ow, fuck!" She burst into a bit of laughter, taking a moment to straighten herself up before pulling a very fake serious face. "Emily Annette Evans. You know I love you. Even if you are irritated with me, how can you deny this face?" She grinned as if she were posing for a family portrait and chuckled once more.


Only their friendship could withstand her pain in the ass moves such as this.

[emily annette evans]

The truth of the matter was; Emily wouldn’t let gender bother her. Sure she preferred men and mostly considered herself straight, but that didn’t exactly stop her. If a girl was hot enough, or she was drunk enough (or even just really bored) there would be nothing stopping her from trying to tap that. Or at least a pash sesh. Life was too short to let a thing like the society’s views on sexual orientation to dictate who you couldn’t have a good time with. Besides which, girls could be a nice change. They were so much softer then guys and let’s face it- knew a little more about how it all worked down there for a girl. Being one yourself often had that advantage.

Juliet, however, was one person Emily would never go there with. Lucky girl, she was the exception for a lot of things when it came to Emily. The choice about not crossing that line had nothing to do with Juliet’s gender though. Oh no. It had to do with feelings. Basically put- Emily would not get physical with Juliet because she cared about her too much. She loved her. It wasn’t a romantic love at all. It was completely platonic. It was just, Emily didn’t consciously make a choice to sleep with anyone she actually cared about. In her mind sex wasn’t synonymous with real feelings. It was just the way it worked in her mind. As odd as it may seem.

She was used to these kind of jokes though. Not a day went by when they didn’t make overtly obvious innuendos or jokes about inappropriate things. It was part of their friendship. A part that Emily wouldn’t change for anything. She loved their banter. Shrugging casually, she sent a face scowl in Juliet’s direction. “It’s okay, I don’t want to fuck you anyway. You taste like cigarettes. Ew.” Really she didn’t care that her best friend was a chain smoker. She just liked to give her a hard time about whatever came to mind, and she’d just had a whiff of smoke when she’d started her comment. So really, there was nothing more to it than just Emily being a bitch.

She had been about to open her mouth with a smart retort when she felt the other girl crash into her. Causing her stretching to cease as her balance was knocked off. Letting her first reaction win instead of censoring herself the way she did in some situations; Emily let out a cackling laughter. Throwing her own arms around her best friend. Kissing both cheeks then her forehead. Giggling as she did so. She was a moody little thing really. One moment she was in full on sulk mode then with one gesture from the other girl, everything was fine again. That should really be a good thing though. If she didn’t hate you for very long, it meant she wouldn’t get a chance to mind-fuck you.

As they toppled into a pew, Emily let out another burst of laughter. Sure, it had hurt but that didn’t stop it from being completely hilarious. Laughing so hard she was breathless, Emily stood herself up straight again, twisting her body around to try and look at her upper thigh. There was going to be a huge bruise there, she was sure of it. Sighing happily, she re-focussed her attention on the cause of all the chaos. Grinning, she stepped forward. “Truth is, I can’t deny you my love. As much as I try.” With an over-dramatic sigh, she stepped forward and took each side of Juliet’s face in her hands. Kissing the other girl’s forehead. “Now where is Danny boy? I want me some spliff.”

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