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“Yes, Dark.” I open my bedroom door and start looking for clean clothes to put on after the endless shower I’m going to take.
“What happened with Dark?” my brother asks, leaning against the doorframe.
“Alex told me he’d given him away.”
“When did he tell you that?”
“The day before yesterday,” I say, fresh clothes in hand.
“He didn’t give Dark away.”
“I already know that. How could he tell me something like that?”
“Pris, Alex is very bitter. He’s hurt.”
“Hurt? I think he’s more than hurt.” And only he knows why. “And what’s with you? You’re so quiet.”
“Me? I’m ok. You’re off your head, must be the hangover.”
* * *
“We have to send next week’s comic strips to the newspaper, Cabana,” Jaime says when we’re in the living room later.
“I have it in mind.”
“Good. Then tell me what you have in mind so I can draw it out of it.”
“Get dressed and put on a swimsuit. I’ll tell you about it on the beach.”
“You want to go to the beach? Now? With your hangover and forty degrees in the shade?”
“Yes. I need peace and quiet.”
“Is it a quiet beach?”
“Super quiet. We’ll even be able to work.”
“What about jellyfish?”
“There are no jellyfish on that beach.”
“You sure?”
“Very. They show up on very rare occasions—I can count them on my fingers: one, two.”
“What about your brothers?”
“My brothers show up more often than the jellyfish.”
“That’s not what I meant; I was asking if they’ll be there.”
“I have no idea, why?”
“No reason. They’re fun. Especially Adri. And River. And Marc. Well, Hugo is fun too. Right? You don’t think so?”
“Don’t think what?”
“That your brothers are fun. Focus, Cabana!”
