Page 8 of The Other Brother
But before I have a chance to conjure the right words, one of the other flutists comes up and starts talking to Cody. She must be Mel’s age, but that doesn’t stop her gushing over him with all the accompanying hair twirling and eyelash batting. He laughs softly at one of her jokes.
A quick scan of the crowd reveals all the parental expressions are back into the normal zone now. Standing here listening to the girl flirt with Cody isn’t really filling me with happiness, so I head over to Mel.
“What was that about?” I ask.
Mel tucks a strand of her blonde hair that’s straggled from her bun behind her ear. “Just the usual. Both parents wanting something from me that clashes with what the other wants. But I think we’ve found a compromise.”
I idly pick up some weird pastry thing from a platter. “What’s the issue?”
“I’d agreed to stay at the beach house so it can be painted while Dad and Heather are in Europe. But Mum wants me to stay at your house when her and Max go to Aunt Ethel's.”
I narrow my eyes as my suspicion swells. “Why does Mum want you to stay at our house?”
“So I can babysit my itty-bitty brother.” Mel tousles my hair, her eyes shining with suppressed laughter.
“Like hell,” I mutter.
I stalk over to my mother, Mel close on my heels. She’ll never miss out on a chance to see me humiliated.
“I don’t need Mel to babysit me,” is my leading line.
Mum gives me a look. “We don’t want a repeat of what happened when we went to Melbourne.”
“You’ve got a memory like an elephant,” I say grumpily.
“It would take a lot to erase the memory of your friends’ butts as you all skinny-dipped in the pool,” Mum replies.
“If YouTube hadn’t been invented, you’d have never known about it,” I declare. “I blame the inventors of YouTube for my current predicament.”
“Perhaps instead you should blame your propensity to disobey the rules and get naked at any opportunity.”
“If God gives you a thing of beauty, it’s your job to share it with the world.”
“It’s all organized now, Ryan. I don’t want to argue with you too.” Mum’s voice is weary, her forehead creased. She’s playing the I’ve-just-had-to-deal-with-my-bastard-ex-husband card. It’s a powerful one.
“How has it been organized?” Suspicion coats my words.
“Frank and Heather have agreed you can stay with Mel out at the beach.”
Okay, I did not see that coming. I glance at Frank and Heather. I can’t believe they’ve agreed to let me crash at their beach house. They’ve always seemed underwhelmed by me. Some stunts I pulled at family celebrations when I was younger may have left them with the impression that I’m an irresponsible mischief maker. Maybe my recent rescue of their precious son helped to soften their stance?
“Is Cody going to be there?” I ask Mel. Casually. Like, James Bond has nothing on how cool I manage to deliver that question.
“No. He’s staying in the city for his piano lessons.”
So Cody doesn’t need to be babysat when his parents are away, but I do. Slightly unfair, given recent events.
I open my mouth to protest, then shut it. Because three weeks at the beach isn’t exactly reform school.
I’ve heard lots about the beach house at Orakahau which has been in Frank’s family since his grandfather was a kid. I’ve always been jealous that my sisters get to trundle off to live at the beach every summer while I’m stuck in the city begging rides off people to go surfing.
There’s awesome surf on that part of the coast. And although she likes to talk tough, Mel isn’t a jailer. I’m certain I can convince her to let me invite some friends out to crash for a few nights.
Surfing every day and partying every night. Not a bad combination.
My gaze snags on Cody. There’s always a possibility he could come out to the beach house during the weekends.
My stomach flickers as I imagine spending time with Cody. A whispery shiver tickles its way down my spine.
