Page 86 of Repluse

Maryam, Kris, and Monica have been reasonably accepting of my relationship with Frankie and Sam. My dad and Nora took a little longer to warm to the idea, but now it’s never even mentioned.

So, here we are, all of us together, all of us with a story to tell, and all of us enjoying a day filled with love, laughter, and most importantly of all, a day spent together.

When two bright blue Superb Fairy Wrens land in the garden, I know that my mum and Birdie are with us, too, and my heart is full.

THE END

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IF YOU’RE NOT FAMILIAR WITH HER INTERNATIONAL & NYT BESTSELLING CARNAGE SERIES, KEEP READING FOR CHAPTER ONE, WHERE THIS EPICALLY, ANGSTY LOVE STORY ALL BEGAN…

Chapter1

I was swinging upside down by my knees on the monkey bars in our back garden the first time I met him. Me, and my best friend, Jimmie, were hanging facing each other, eating pop rocks, and singing what we thought was a stellar rendition of “Liza Radley” by The Jam, at the top of our lungs. We’d heard my big brother, Bailey, listening to the B side of the twelve-inch version of the single “Start” the week before. He’d declared he liked it better than the A side, and because in our young eyes, Bailey was a God, we knew it must be true.

Jimmie was in love with each and every one of my three big brothers, and fully convinced that if she knew the words to their favourite songs, they’d notice her. As her best friend, I fullysupported this idea. I wanted her to marry one of them, we just had to decide which of the three it would be.

Everyone was always telling me my brothers were good looking, back then, I wasn’t so sure. I loved them, but they were so annoying.

But, Jimmie was determined, so I was there to help her with her life choices.

Despite overhearing my dad tell my mum, Jimmie and me were ‘too grown up for our own good,’ Bailey, my eldest brother, was eighteen, and even as a mature, eleven almost twelve year old, Jimmie being just a few months younger, I knew that was too big of an age gap.

Lennon, the second eldest, was sixteen, so again, that pretty much ruled him out. So as far as I was concerned, it had to be Marley. The brother closest in age to me that she was going to marry. This made perfect sense because next to Jimmie, Marley was my other best friend, and I was pretty sure, it was his legs I could see approaching us from the back of our house.

“George, I can see your knickers. Get the fuck up, will ya?”

Yep, that was Marls. I had no idea why he was moaning though. He usually loved seeing Jimmie’s knickers. In fact, on more than one occasion, I’d heard himbegto look at her knickers in the past.

Still shaking my head at that thought, I saw them, the other pair of legs following Marley up the garden path towards us.

Monkey Boots?

Whoever was approaching was wearing Monkey Boots. I loved Monkey Boots! They were already on my Christmas list for that year, despite the fact it was still only August.

A very loud wolf whistle interrupted my thoughts. I’d heard boys do this before. My dad and my brothers did it to me when they knew I was all dressed up for a special occasion, and my dad did it to my mum every time she came down the stairs dressedand ready for the day and it would make my chest squeeze when I looked at my dad and the way he would look at my mum when he did it. But that whistle, that whistle did something to me I didn’t quite understand. It sent feelings through me that landed in places I’d only just realised I had. That sound woke something in my body I never even knew was sleeping.

Jimmie and I swung up at the same time, grabbed the bars by our hands, and dropped to the floor. I was pretty sure we were in complete synchronisation and looked like a pair of Olympic gymnasts. We turned to Marley, took a bow, and then collapsed into each other, giggling like the pair of preteen girls we were. I looked back towards Marls who wasn’t laughing. He was, in fact, glaring at the pair of us. I tipped my head back and emptied what was left of my packet of pop rocks into my mouth, letting the tiny, orange shards explode all over my tongue.

I looked back towards my brother, waiting for the popping to stop in my mouth so I could give him some attitude about the shitty look on his face when my world suddenly stopped turning. It stuttered for a few seconds and then restarted, erratically, matching the rhythm of the candy exploding inside my mouth. But when I swallowed, the explosions didn’t stop. They went down into my chest and on into my stomach, settling uncomfortably low down in my belly. And for some strange reason, the sensation caused my brain to cease its connection to my mouth, leaving me devoid of speech.

I was eleven years old, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt I was staring into the eyes of the boy I was going to love forever. Big, brown eyes locked onto mine from over Marley’s shoulder. He stared at me for a little too long, and then his eyes moved down my body and locked onto my chest. Yeah, I was eleven at the time, but two years before I’d started to develop boobs and was already wearing a size B cup. Most of my friends were jealous, but I hated them. Everything began tochange when my boobs grew. The boys treated me differently. They knocked on my bedroom door instead of just barging in, and they never came into the bathroom anymore for long chats like the ones we used to have while I soaked in an overly full bubble bath. They never pinned me down and tickle tortured me anymore either.

Then, the year before, I had gotten my first period, and things got worse. We lived in a nice house on a nice street in a nice area. I’d always been allowed to play out late because my brothers were around to look out for me. We were a large group of about twenty kids. Both boys and girls, varying from age ten to about fifteen. It was harmless, innocent, and sexless fun. We would hang out on the bench at the corner, at the park across the road, or down at the little row of shops a street away. Up until I had gotten my period, nobody asked whom, in particular, I was going out with or who else would be there, because as long as one of my brothers were around, I was fine to go where I liked and with whoever I liked.

But getting my period changed everything. I felt interrogated with all the questions. Where are you going? Who’s going to be there? Will there be boys? That was all they seemed to want to know—whether there’d be boys involved in anything that I was doing outside of our house. At the time, I didn’t get it. It never occurred to me that at such a young age I could potentially get pregnant.

My dad wasn’t home much, so it was my brothers who dished out the discipline. My mum was around, but she left it to the boys to tell me off if I’d gotten home late or couldn’t be found at one of my usual hangouts when they came looking for me. This was usually Bailey or Lennon, as I gave Marley too much shit. I didn’t understand why he should be the one telling me what to do. He was only thirteen himself and not yet an adult. Funnily enough, Marley was the strictest of all my brothers.

I stood, staring at the boy—my future husband—with my brother. Forget Adam Ant, he had nothing on the boy who stood in front of me, the boy—the new love of my life—who was still, so very obviously looking at my boobs.

“Sean, this is my sister George and her mate, Jimmie,” Marley introduced us.

Sean laughed before speaking, “I thought I was gonna meet some more brothers when you said, ‘Let’s go and see George and Jimmie,’ not a pair of girls wearing red and pink knickers.”

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