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No…“Uh, can we talk about it later?” I said instead. “My head’s wrecked.”

“Of course.” Giving me a wink, he said, “Colorful family you’ve gotten yourself attached to, son.”

“Like you can talk,” I shot back accusingly, thinking about my mother’s side of the fence.

“Don’t remind me,” Dad muttered. “See you later.”

“Yeah.” I frowned after him, wondering what the hell he was up to. “I’ll see ya.”

54

Pound Shop Razors

Shannon

“We are living our best lives, girls,” Claire announced as she dumped the contents of her day’s worth of shopping onto her bed and grinned. “Now, it’s makeover time.”

“No,” Lizzie grumbled, flopping down on the bed, looking thoroughly exhausted. “Forget it. I’m not doing anything else for the rest of the evening.”

“Oh yes you are,” Claire chirped. “We’re having makeovers and that includes you, grumpy pants.”

“Claire,” Lizzie snapped. “You dragged us all over the city shopping for seven hours. I amexhausted.”

“I’m kind of with Lizzie on this.” Sinking down on the floor, I pulled off my runners and rubbed my feet. “It’s already seven in the evening, and I’m really tired.”And I want to go see Johnny…

“Exactly! I didn’t traipse all over Cork city, buying all of this crap just for it to go to waste,” Claire growled, tapping her foot. “You’rebothgetting makeovers and you’rebothgoing to love them.”

Exhaling a heavy sigh in defeat, I climbed to my feet and nodded. “Fine, I’ll do the makeover.”

“Yay,” Claire squealed, clapping her hands. “Thank you,Shannon.”

“Turncoat,” Lizzie muttered under her breath.

“For that, you’re going first,” Claire countered, grinning devilishly at Lizzie. “And I’m starting with that unibrow.”

“She doesn’t have a unibrow.” I chuckled, sifting through the pile of goodies on the bed.

“No, I don’t have a unibrow, Shan, butshe’llhave a fist to the face if she comes anywhere near me with tweezers,” Lizzie shot back.

“Why do we need razors?” I asked, picking up the packet of razors and a can of shaving foam.

“Because we’re going gardening, girls,” Claire replied breezily. “Down under.”

“You come anywhere near my vagina with a razor and I’ll stab you,” Lizzie warned. “I’m not even joking.”

“Fine,” Claire countered. “You’re such a beast you’d need the whole packet to tame you.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes and gave Claire the finger.

“Yeah.” I eyed the packet of razors warily. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea,” Lizzie interjected. “You shouldn’t be shaving down there anyway. That’s what waxing is for.”

“Well, I can’t afford waxing,” Claire huffed. “I’m not a millionaire, Lizzie.”

“So you’re going to mangle yourself with pound shop razors?”

“They cost two euro,” Claire countered.

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