Dustin isn't particularly pleased when his mother's freshly divorced best friend, Cathy, decides to temporarily move in with them. It means a whole lot of late-night gossiping, chick flicks, and mood swings. But things get interesting when Cathy tur...
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An hour into the night and someone suggested we put on a little music. One of the girls tossed me her keys and I jogged up the hill to plug in her phone. A faint melody played from the speakers, the soft strum of a guitar filling the air. I turned up the volume and sat on the back of the Ute.
Some of my friends cheered when they heard the song, so they lifted themselves off the sand and started dancing. I watched them sway and laugh before my eyes landed on Ash. She was sitting cross-legged with a couple of other people, grinning at something someone said.
"Aren't you going to have a drink?" Jackson asked as he climbed up the sandy hill and hauled himself up next to me.
"Driving," I explained without looking up.
"She's pretty cool," Jackson said, noticing my line of sight. "Why didn't you tell us Cathy had a daughter?"
"I only just found out tonight. I should have figured it out though. Mum told me to clean out my study earlier this month. I thought it was for Cathy, but she also redid the spare room. I guess it didn't click that there would be two of them moving in."
Now that I thought about it, it seemed awfully stupid that I didn't realise Cathy wouldn't be moving in by herself. My mother had been rearranging my study all month, buying second hand furniture and a new mattress and painting the walls an impossible-to-ignore shade of 'pastel lilac'.
I once referred to it as merely 'purple', which had clearly offended my mother and she spent the rest of the day explaining the difference between the different colours of the spectrum.
However, I thought all the work in the study was meant to be for Cathy. I hadn't even thought of checking the spare room to see if she had rearranged everything and repainted the walls in other colours with descriptive names like 'carnival cotton candy'.
"Well, is she going to be registering at Lyon?"
"I'm guessing so. Unless she plans to drive an hour to school each day. A ten minute trip would be a lot easier, but really, that's up the Cathy and Ash."
"I think she's going to fit right in," Jackson said, watching as Sam animatedly gestured while he spoke to her.
"I think she already has. But I think it's time to swoop in and save her. Sam might poke her eye out if he swings his arms around any more wildly."
The closer we got to our friends, the louder Sam's voice became. Ash was politely listening to whatever ridiculously exaggerated recount he was telling, a bottle of beer in her hands. The cap was missing, but there was no sign of consumption.
"What are you bragging about now, Gibson?" Jackson asked, dropping into the sand in front of them.
"I was just telling Ash about my cooking skills."
"You mean your lack of them?" Jackson had a mischievous grin.
"Shut up, man. You know you love my gourmet purée de pommes de terre." Sam's attempt at a convincing French accent never failed to make me laugh.
