Page 19 of The New Girl

Ruby could see herself as Dorothy, starring in the show as parents and the other students gasped at how incredible she was. ‘She’ll win an Oscar some day,’ they’d say.

Ruby stood up in front of the mirror and took a bow. ‘Thank you,’ she said to her imaginary audience.

‘What are you doing, you freak?’

Ruby spun around. Orla was behind her. Dammit, she hadn’t heard her sister coming in. ‘Nothing.’

Orla rolled her eyes and threw herself onto her bed.

Ruby looked at the clock. It was midnight. Orla was supposed to have been home by ten thirty. ‘Did Mum see you come in?’

Orla snorted. ‘Are you joking? She’s fast asleep on the couch.’

Ruby sniffed; her sister smelt funny. She smelt like Dad’s beers. ‘Oh my God, have you been drinking?’

‘No.’

‘Yes you have. You stink.’

‘Shut up, you idiot.’

‘Mum and Dad will go mental if they find out.’

Orla’s eyes narrowed. ‘How would they find out? You’re not going to tell them, now, are you?’ She grabbed Ruby’s arm and pulled it behind her back.

‘Ouch, you’re hurting me.’

‘Swear you won’t say anything!’

‘I swear.’

Orla let go of Ruby’s arm. Ruby rubbed it where it ached. ‘You shouldn’t be drinking, though. You know it’s wrong. You’re only fifteen.’

‘I’ll be sixteen next month, not that anyone in this house will remember.’

Ruby’s mind flashed back to last year, when everyone had forgotten Orla’s fifteenth birthday because Robbie was in hospital. Mum had remembered two days after and felt so bad. She’d kept apologising to Orla, who had pretended she didn’t care, but Ruby knew she did. Mum had tried to make it up to her by buying her a silver necklace with her name on it, but Orla had only worn it once. Ruby knew her sister thought it was dorky.

‘Don’t do it again, Orla, seriously. Mum and Dad don’t need to worry about you drinking. It’s not fair. They’ve enough to be worried about.’

Orla kicked off her boots and lay back on her bed. ‘Mum and Dad wouldn’t notice if I had vodka for breakfast. They’re too wrapped up in Robbie and all his drama to notice whether I’m alive or dead.’

‘That’s not fair! They do try.’

Orla sat up. ‘That’s a load of crap and you know it. Since he came along they never take us out, we never do anything as a family, we never have fun, they’re permanently exhausted and pretty much forget we exist. It’s all about Robbie. I wish he’d never been born.’

Ruby waved her arms. ‘Don’t say that – take it back. It’s mean and wrong and ... and ... and ...’

‘And true,’ Orla said.

‘No, no, it isn’t!’ Ruby shouted. She had to push back the words. It was wrong. Orla shouldn’t say things like that. But deep down, although she would never ever admit it, Ruby sometimes felt the same.

The door snapped open and Mum came in. ‘For God’s sake, Ruby, be quiet. You’ll wake Robbie up. It took me nearly two hours to get him to sleep,’ she hissed. ‘You should be asleep. What are you doing up at this hour?’ Mum took the iPad from Ruby’s bed and turned to leave the room. Turning to Orla, she asked, ‘What time did you get in at?’

‘About twenty past ten. You were with Robbie, so I didn’t go in to you.’

‘Good girl. OK, goodnight, girls.’

Mum left the room and Orla turned to Ruby. ‘See? She doesn’t even notice if I’m here or not.’

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