Page 89 of Strictly the Worst

We both rush to the bathroom, but I get there first.

“I’m here, honey,” Tessa shouts, pushing me aside. “She might be naked,” she says to me.

Oh shit. Yeah. I turn my head as the door opens and Zoe walks out. From the corner of my eye I see she’s wearing a towel.

She’s also holding one of the faucets. The cold one I think.

“It snapped off,” she says breathlessly. “There’s water everywhere.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

TESSA

Water is flowing out of the pipe where the faucet once was, shooting up like a geyser then tumbling down onto the bathroom floor. “Shit.” I take the broken faucet from Zoe and try to cover up the broken pipe with it, but then the water turns into a spray that hits my face and my chest, and I’m spluttering as I step away.

“Where’s your water shut off?” Linc shouts, following me inside the bathroom.

“In the kitchen.”

He takes the faucet from me. “Go turn it off. I’ll try to catch the water.” He wrenches open the hallway closet, grabbing the mop bucket, and tries to catch the water as it flows out of the pipes. Only a little lands in the bucket, most of it lands on him.

He looks like he’s dancing in the rain, and I’m trying not to laugh.

“Turn the water off, Carmichael,” he shouts, narrowing his eyes at my smile. I nod and run to the kitchen.

“I’m just going to get dressed,” Zoe shouts. “I need to leave in a minute.”

Of course she does. It’s the teenage playbook – make the mess and run. I’m pretty sure I did the same when I was a kid.

Dropping to my knees I swipe away the cleaning bottles beneath the sink, reaching in to turn the valve. Water is dripping from my face and when I look down my t-shirt is glued to my skin. I grab a clean cloth and wipe myself, but it does nothing.

“It’s off,” I shout to Linc.

When I get back to the bathroom he’s leaning over the tub, the bucket still in his hands. His wet t-shirt is clinging to his chest, revealing the lines of his muscles. I try – and fail – not to stare.

Taking a deep breath I walk over to him. “How is it looking?” I ask him.

“Like we need to call a plumber.”

It’s funny, but just one little word change and I immediately feel safe. Not ‘you need to call a plumber’ but ‘we’.

“The new bathroom install starts on Monday,” I say. “There’s no point in calling anybody out before then.” I’m not paying for an emergency plumber to replace a faucet only for it to be replaced again next week.

“You can’t be without water until Monday,” Linc says, frowning. “Let me call somebody. Just to hold you over.”

“No, it’s fine, honestly. We’ve managed worse than this.” And thank god Zoe is a trooper. Even if she’s also the instigator of this particular mess.

“I need to go,” she says, walking out of her room. She’s fully dressed. And dry. She takes a look at us both. “Unless you need me to stay and help?”

Linc and I share a glance.

“No, you go,” I tell her. “Have a good time.”

“I’m sorry, Mom.” Her eyes meet mine and I can see that she really is.

“Not your fault, kiddo. The whole bathroom should have been condemned years ago. I’m surprised it didn’t happen before now.”

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