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“What I mean to say is if we were all cave people and none of today’s modern technology existed.” I paused to lick a tiny sprinkle of tomato ketchup off my knuckle before continuing. “And Ballylaggin was the village we all came from, do you think our friendship group would form their own tribe?”
“What did you smoke in that tent with him?” my brother accused, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “Because this is weird, Claire, even for you.”
“What?” I laughed. “It’s a valid question.”
“How in the name of God is that a valid question?”
“Hell yeah, we’d be a tribe,” Gerard interrupted, tossing a piece of toast at my brother. “And while the rest of us were out hunting down dinner, you’d be the bitch digging holes for us to shit in.”
“More like to bury you in,” Hugh shot back with a smirk.
“I think we would be,” Shannon offered, still looking a little worse for wear from last night’s antics. Lounging on her boyfriend’s lap with his hoodie swamping her small frame, she folded the sleeves up absent-mindedly as she spoke. “At least, I would hope to be in your tribe.”
I smiled warmly back at her. “Always, chickie.”
“I would be a nomad,” Lizzie chimed in, taking a bite of her toast. “But I’d pop in every once and a while to visit.”
“Oh my god, what are you eating?” Katie blurted out of nowhere, causing everyone to turn their attention to where she was looking. Which just so happened to be Lizzie. “What the hell is that on your toast?”
“Marmite,” Lizzie drawled slowly, taking another bite.
Katie gaped in horror. “That’s so wrong!”
“Maybe for you.”
“Why don’t you try something normal instead?”
“And what’s your definition of ‘normal’?”
“I don’t know.” Katie smiled. “Jam, or marmalade, or chocolate spread?”
Lizzie’s eyes narrowed and my butt cheeks began to sweat.
Uh-oh.
Code red, I tried to send a telepathic warning to my brother’s girlfriend. Code red. Code red. Retreat now, dammit!
“And why would I want to do that?” Lizzie asked in an icy tone. “When I like marmite?”
“Uh…I don’t know,” Katie mumbled, withering under Lizzie’s forceful stare. “It was just a suggestion. Sorry.”
“If I wanted suggestions from people, I would ask my actual friends,” Lizzie bit out.
“Stop,” Hugh intervened, taking the brunt of Lizzie’s glare and meeting it head-on with one of his own. “She didn’t mean any harm.”
“Jesus,” Pierce chuckled, clearly trying to break the tension. “Talk about becoming what you eat.” Reaching over, he ruffled his girlfriend’s hair. “Don’t worry, babe, I love eating marmite.”
“Ha. Funny,” Lizzie drawled, smacking his hand away. “Touch my hair again and lose your fingers.”
“I was only joking, Liz. Chill.”
“And while you’re at it, go fuck yourself.”
“Jesus, you clearly can’t take a joke anymore.”
“Oh, I can take a lot of things, Pierce,” Lizzie countered coolly. “I’m just choosing not to take anything from you. Not your jokes. Not your dick. Not your shit… Can you tell where this is leading?”
Oh dear.
