Page 47 of Merrily Ever After
He leaves me alone again, and I look back at the screen. Okay, well, I definitely can’t afford a band.
But some people can.
I grab my phone and text Christian. He lives in Dublin and works for some ridiculous holiday rental company where everything costs a gazillion euro. Despite the fact that he’s the most annoying of my brothers, he’s also the youngest and, therefore, the one I was automatically closest to growing up. Even though sometimes I did want to strangle him.
Is that hot tub cabin you guys went to still available?
His reply comes seconds later. The man really is addicted to his phone.
You can’t afford the hot tub cabin
Family discount
You still can’t afford the hot tub cabin
What can I afford?
You’re an arts student. Nothing
My mouth drops open.
I literally made your girlfriend a whole freaking dress and if you don’t come up with a solution in the next ten seconds, I’ll tell her you’re being mean to me
There’s no reply for a long while. Then my money app dings.
An early Christmas present. And you still can’t afford the hot tub cabin
“What are you smiling at?”
I look up as Andrew comes into the room and collapses onto the sofa behind me.
“I scammed Christian out of a hundred quid.”
“Nice.”
I sit up, crossing my legs as I twist around. “Can you do a photoshoot of me and Daniela?”
“If you give me a hundred quid,” he says and I’m about to tell him he’s not helping when the phone starts to ring, which makes Polly bark, which makes Mam scold her, which makes Dad have to yell when he answers it. Hasn’t anyone ever heard of indoor voices?
“How can I be expected tothinkin this house,” I say, turning the television off.
“Hey,” Andrew complains. “I was watching that.”
“Then turn it back on.”
“You have the remote!”
I do. I leave it halfway up the stairs as I head to my room. The one I can barely get into. The air mattress is folded in a heap outside the door, ready to be blown up, and I have to climb over both that and a suitcase to get inside.
I gather all the clothes spilling out of my closet and shove them back in again before putting my mannequin in the hallway and dragging my bedside table out with it. It’s the only way the mattress will fit. My room is the smallest bedroom in the house because of course it is. I mean, it’s also the nicest because it’s mine, but I can already feel how cramped it’s going to be with Daniela’s stuff.
I push the bed as tight as I can against the wall and then plonk down on it, staring up at the ceiling and the faded marks where my glow-in-the-dark stickers used to be.
This room won’t help my plan. It’s not exactly screamingyou mean a lot to me. Neither does this house. Daniela won’t be here an hour before Mam will have her peeling carrots in the kitchen. I just wish there wassomethingI could do.
“For what?”
I glance up, startled, to see Molly in the hall. “What?”
