Playing Pretend

Wait, seriously?

Dread. Dread. Dread. 

Even more dread.

A slightly nauseous pull in my stomach. 

Nope, yep. I definitely feel like I'm going to puke. 

Rubbing the sleep away from my eyes I try and follow the uneasiness rooting itself in my chest so I can pull it out, but fall short every time. I felt as if I had woken up in a bedroom that was the exact same as the one I feel asleep in except everything was a different colour. Or had been flipped upside down. 

I didn't know what it was, but something was off.  My hands run across my silky pyjamas, searching for an extra leg or missing arm, but find the same body I had woken up with every day for seventeen years. Huh. 

Biting back what I really hoped was not  own vomit I swing my legs out of bed and bury my feet into an obnoxiously pair of pink slippers. Freezing in the air when I hear someone - or more to the point, someone's - trying to keep quiet outside of my door.

If I wasn't such an anxious mess I would have rolled my eyes. Amateurs. 

Quiet voices slip underneath my bedroom door, across my feet and all the way up to my flushed cheeks. Taking a deep breathe I march towards the door before I can change my mind and swing the door open. My eyes narrow into tiny slits. 

"You do know that these walls aren't sound proof, right?" I growl, folding my arms across my chest. 

Mom, Dad and Harry's necks snap up in perfect synchronisation, each of their faces plastered with the same tell-tale look. Guilty. 

I stare a little more, waiting for an explanation. And as much as I'd like to believe that my big-brother and parents had randomly decided to start a family book club outside of my bedroom door, I knew better. 

Harry springs into action first and slips on a careless grin. "Where else do you think I find out all your big bad secrets? How's Josh, by the way?" 

He smirks at me and I want to punch him in his giant smug face. Anger mixes it's way into the cocktail of doom brewing in my stomach. Dad's eyes almost pop out of his head.

"Josh?" He swaps his gaze between me and Harry, his black framed glasses sliding off his narrow nose. "I haven't heard about a Josh. Who is Josh? I don't remember meeting a Josh."

I throw my hands up in the air, glaring at Harry. "Now look what you've done! You've broken Dad." 

Mom seems to be the only one who hasn't gone completely mad and butts in, calming Dad with a gentle hand to his shoulder. "We we're just coming to wake you up, Elsie."

"By mumbling outside of my door?" My eyebrows furrow as the concerned expressions return. 

Dread. Dread. Double dread. 

Mom sighs as if it we're at the end of the day already. The too-large clock hanging on the wall behind her head reminds me otherwise. It was only 8:30. 

"Elsie honey, do you remember my old friend Sebastian Moon?" Dad asks. He was still wearing his robe and obviously hadn't had time to shave. In the morning light you could see the faint ginger flecks that littered his sandy blonde hair. 

I sift through my memories until I find Sebastian. He had dark hair, I think. And always brought Harry and I presents from his travels. He had worked with Dad before Dad founded his record company. I remembered him being tall, but I wasn't entirely sure wether that was because I had been so little the last time I had seen him. Ten maybe. Eleven tops. He had a son, too. We played together before we moved to New York. 

I search a little harder. What was his name? Gus? No. My eyes squeeze shut as I let out a sigh of my own.  "Yeah, I do. Well at least I think I do. But I don't see how any of this matters." 

And I didn't. And without my morning coffee I didn't see myself understanding any time soon, either.

"Well this morning I was woken up by a call from him, which you can imagine was a bit of surprise seeing as I haven't seen him in about seven years..." 

"Dad." My nerves were about as thin as a shoelace. "The point, please." 

He presses his glasses back up the nape of his nose so he can stare at me a little more clearly, "As it turned out, he was calling from jail. He's been arrested for fraud, and can't afford bail..."

"Oh Dad, please tell me you're not bailing him out." I groan, irritated. 

It wasn't a secret that my family was well-off. Dad's record company represented some of the biggest names in the world, and Mom had a series of best-selling mystery novels. We lived in Manhattan with a view of Central Park and the Empire State. Life was good. And the four of us, plus Percy, our overweight pug, are pretty happy. That didn't worry me. What worried me was that my Dad's good nature was also not a secret. One that a lot of people we're all too happy to exploit. 

Much to relief Dad shakes his head and laughs half-heartedly, "No honey, I'm not bailing him out. But he did ask me one small, teeny, favour." 

I squeeze my arms around me a little tighter. Harry smiles assuringly but I don't believe him for even a second. "Uh-huh, I'm listening." 

Mom takes the reins. Even though it looked as if she had been up since the wee hours of the morning, she still looked as if she were ready to take on the world. "Elsie, do you remember August, his son? The two of you used to be friends." 

I slap my palm to my forehead, "August! That's his name. I couldn't remember."

"Yes well, as it turns out, with his Dad in jail and whatnot - "

Harry erupts in typical Harry fashion. Without warning and all at once. "Oh for the love of God! At this rate we'll be dead by the time he even gets here!" 

My stomach rejoices in it's own rendition of whoop, there it is. I almost choke, "Wait, what do you mean - when he get's here? Please tell me you mean metaphorically."

"I mean exactly what I said! Due to his lack of parental figures not in jail, and the small fact that there might be some not-so-nice guys who are not his dad's biggest fans, our long lost friend August has found himself in a bit of a pickle, so to speak." 

No, no, no, no. This can't be happening. He can't be staying with us. There's only four stools at the breakfast bar. Visitors turn Percy into a nervous farting wreck. My face pales. I'm going to have to wear a bra. 

"Please tell me you're joking." I turn to my parents, grasping Dad by the shoulders and shaking a little too hard. When he doesn't start yelling April Fools, I gasp and point at Harry. "I barely survive living with him! How am I supposed to manage two of them?" 

Dad carefully pries my hands away and kisses my forehead lightly. "It's just until the summer. I know it's not ideal but I know deep down you know it's the right thing to do. The boy's lost everything in a matter of hours. And don't try and pull that one on me, I think we both know you're more than capable of handling a whole league of teenage boys." 

Dad shuffles away, and Mom takes his place, cupping my chin. 

"Why don't you get dressed, and when you get downstairs I'll make you some pancakes." 

I eye her skeptically. It was always a good strategy - bribing me with food - but I didn't think even pancakes could fix this problem. "With chocolate chips? And whipped cream?"

Her lips purse, and I can see her wrestling with her inner-mother. No chocolate for breakfast. 

"Strawberries and whipped cream. Final offer." 

"Fine." I lean into her hands for a second longer before pulling away and turning back into my room. My fingers grasp around the doors edge as I leave them with one last glare, "And I'll tell you now, if that boy even breathes near my room I'll cut his manhood off and feed it to Percy." 

And then I slam the door like I've never slammed it before.