“Since you’re both here,” she said, ignoring him, “what would you like for family dinner later? I’m about to pop out to the shops.” Mum had declared last week that Sundays would be family dinner days in an attempt to feel less like ships in the night.
I shrugged. “I’m not fussed. What’s easiest for you?”
“Pizza?” Dad asked, and yet again Mum pretended he hadn’t spoken at all.
“Remind me,” she said, turning to Jack, who was on his way back from the truck. “Morgan’s not veggie or anything, right?”
Jack shook his head. “She’s not. Why, is she invited?”
“Of course,” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. As if it hadn’t always been just the four of us. “You did invite her, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t, but I think she’s free.” He bent down to pick up the pole Mum had dropped. “Does that mean Phil’s coming too?”
Despite the heatwave, my body went cold as ice.Shit. I glared at Jack, trying to convince him through my eyes alone to roll back what he’d said, but he was oblivious as usual.
Mum frowned. “Why would Philip come? Unless you’re in a throuple now? It’s fine if you are.”
Jack doubled over with laughter. “Mum, who taught you the word throuple?”
“I know things,” Mum said with a shrug.
“Well, you’ll be sad to hear that I am not in a throuple with Phil. I don’t particularly fancy sharing him with Amy.”
SHIT SHIT SHIT.
“Shut the fuck up, Jack!”
“Language, Amelia!” Dad yelled.
“Wait, what am I missing?” Mum asked, looking back and forth between Jack and me. Jack finally met my gaze and gave me a guilty look, and then the twat scarpered off towards the truck with Mum’s discarded greenhouse pole.
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “Jack doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” But I might as well not have said anything.
Mum gasped. “Are you and Philip together, darling?” Her hands were clenched in fists just below her face like an excited kid. “Is this finally happening?”
“It’s really not,” I said, just as my traitor brother came back.
“Come on, Ames. I know you were keeping it low-key, but you can’t hide it forever. It’s not like he needs to meet the parents or anything.”
I took a deep breath and decided that, no matter how fun it was to pretend the kiss had meant something, I had to set the record straight once and for all.
“Phil will not be coming to dinner,” I insisted, “because he’s not my boyfriend. And even if he were, it would be no one’s business. I would like to eat whatever is easiest for you to make, Mum, and I’d like you all to back off, please.”
I turned on my heels to walk inside, passing Dad, but he put a hand out in front of me before I could make it to the step.
“Amelia Celeste,” he said in his patented dad voice.
“What?” I knew I sounded huffy, but I couldn’t help it. I could have run Jack straight through with that greenhouse pole.
“Try again.”
I swallowed every ounce of my pride and softened my voice, turning towards him but not quite meeting his gaze. “Yes, Dad?”
“Please don’t speak to your mother that way.”
“I’m sor?—”
“—but…” He spoke low enough now that Mum and Jack couldn’t hear. In fact, they seemed to have gone back into the garden. “Are you really dating Phil Owen? Because if so, I suppose I owe you an apology.”
