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13
AVERY
I dropmy ‘stuffed to the brim’ rucksack on the floor in the hallway of the small house and glance around. Whenever I'm away, the place improves in my mind, but then I return after the holidays and my fantasies that the house is clean are shattered.
Ben sits on the sofa, focused on his phone. He looks up when he hears the front door close and smiles apologetically. “Yeah. We need to tidy a bit.”
A bit? The plates on the table in front of the TV look like they're beginning their own ecosystem. The empty wine and beer bottles vie for space with empty bags of crisps and food trays. “Did you have a party?”
“No. Not really. I mean, a couple of the guys stayed over Christmas and…”
Distracted, I lean closer and examine his face. “Ben. Are you growing a beard?”
He rubs the scruffy facial hair and I take in his appearance. Ben's once unruly brown hair is slicked into something resembling a quiff and his clothes are decidedly different. For a start, his shirt has a white and brown flower pattern.
“Ben?”
“What?”
“Hipster much?”
“I'm bloody not!”
“Another one is claimed by the dark side,” I say with a laugh and look back to the mess. “Your hipster friends didn't help tidy up?” A thought strikes. “I hope they stayed out of my room!”
“Yes, Avery,” says Ben with a sigh. “They wouldn't dare go in there and mess up your oasis of calm.”
“You mean my threat of injury to anybody who went in while I was away worked?”
Ben laughs. “Yeah. That too.”
I wander into the kitchen, take one look at the leaning tower of plates and glasses, consider whether an engineering student visited and achieved such a feat, then walk straight out. “Sort that, Ben.”
“Yeah, sorry, didn't realise you were coming back.” He begins gathering rubbish into a pile. “Why are you back early?”
“I need to try and find some work before term starts.”
“What happened to the job you had at home?”
“That, as they say, is a long story.”
“They sacked you?” I scowl. “What did you do? I can't imagine you upsetting people.”
“Not talking about it.” I throw him an empty plastic bag. “How's the hot water situation?”
“Bad. Still waiting for the landlord to fix; lukewarm showers for the win,” he mutters.
“It's almost a month now!”
“You don't need to tell me that!”
“What about the heating?”
He points at his layers of clothes. “Take your coat off and find out.”
“Jesus! Have you called the landlord again?”
“No.”
