I’m prepared to put up with her for the sake of hanging out with Elyse. I’m sure at some point there will be something I can do about it; I’ll think up something.
‘Cool.’ When we get back to mine, Elyse confirms her general approval and wanders off into the house before I’ve even finished disarming the burglar alarm. I’m pleased to note this must mean my brother is not at home – he’s all right, but it’s obviously way better when I have the run of the house myself.
‘Go on through into the family room,’ I instruct Elyse, with a wary smile at Melanie as she passes. ‘I’ll go and get us a drink; I’ll be there in a minute.’
Thank God, unlike so many people, I have nothing to feel embarrassed about when I have friends over. OK, ‘family room’ is to separate it from my mum’s formal sitting room, which has hard sofas and cushions up on their points that we’re not even allowed to sit on. My house isn’t an über-mansion like that poor little rich bitch Nathalie Al-Omar’s, but it’s modern and quite big, and it does have two living rooms – this means that the comfy one with bean bags and the Xbox basically belongs to me and my brother. It also means that at least I’m not some scholarship charity case like Sorana Salem. We might even all go out in the hot tub later.
My parents are away a lot, which is obviously awesome, but even if they were here, they’re fine. Just normal parents. I get the best of both worlds – all the perks of home, with a free house on a regular basis.
I kick off my shoes as I wander into the kitchen, and grab a bottle of white wine out of the fridge, along with three glasses and a massive bag of Kettle Chips that I clamp in between my teeth before heading to join the others.
I can only have been about three minutes, tops, but by the time I reach the family room Elyse already seems to have made herself at home. The TV is blaring, her belongings and clothing are scattered about the floor, and she is sitting cross-legged at the low glass coffee table surrounded by a surprising array of stuff.
‘Hey.’ She looks up and smiles. ‘Ooh, give me a glass of that. By the way, where did you say all your family were?’
Before I even sit down next to her on the carpet, she has grabbed the wine out of my hands.
‘My parents are in Dubai and my brother’s… well, I dunno – my brother’s probably at the pub with his mates and hopefully won’t be back for ages,’ I explain.
‘Really – is he hot?’ As she asks this Elyse hands me back a glass of my own wine and also shoves one in Melanie’s direction.
‘No way! He’s nineteen and he’s…my brother. He still lives at home and he’s always stoned and being stupid with his mates.’
An unexpected voice comes from the other side of the room.
‘Sounds like just Elyse’s type…’
I nearly snort wine out of my nose with shock at Melanie’s voice piping up from nowhere. In a semi-funny joke, no less. Before I can even respond, she’s already huddled back into one corner of the sofa and is concentrating on whatever is in her giant rucksack.
‘Shut up, Mel,’ Elyse snaps unnecessarily. ‘She’s only being a bitch because she disapproves of me and older stoner boys in general – right, Mel?’
Melanie, unsurprisingly this time, remains silent. This gives me the chance to focus on what I had originally noticed when I walked into the room – the weird range of crap on the coffee table.
‘Elyse?’
‘Hang on a minute… I love this song!’
She turns up the TV and starts singing along, doing a crazy sitting-down dance from her position on the floor. The TV screen is filled with some random guys in tight jeans and a lot of black, with messy hair to match their guitars. It’s not my usual kind of thing but I’ve actually been enjoying getting into Elyse’s music.
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