Page 2 of Cream & Sugar
“Shit,” I say.
“Shit is right.”
I wrack my brain for a plausible excuse. When none avail themselves to me, all I can muster is a sheepish grin.
“Oops.”
Rory shakes his head, teeth grinding. “You’re unbelievable.”
“What?” I say with a shrug. “No onedied.”
Rory hurls the cremated pizza to the floor where it shatters into shards. “This is myhouse! And you’d see it burned to the ground!” He’s shouting now, white spittle foaming at the corners of his mouth.
I roll my eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” He draws himself up to full height. “Okay, how’s this for dramatic? You’re moving out, Freddie. You’re moving outtoday.”
I blink at him. A small part of me thinks he’s kidding, but it’s getting smaller by the millisecond.
“What? Rory, come on. It’s just a pizza—”
“No, it’s notjustanything. This is the final fucking straw.”
“What were the other straws?” I ask, as innocently as I can, but Rory’s not biting.
“You know full well! I can deal with the mess, the men you bring back at all hours of the night who help themselves to breakfast in the morning like this is a fucking hotel. I can handle the fact you haven’t paid your digs inmonths. But I won’t wait around for you to burn the place to ashes with me inside, or wake up to find half my stuff missing because you’ve forgotten to lock the front door again, or have to apologise to the neighbours because you decided to piss on their flowerbeds at three in the fucking morning!”
I tut. “Come on, that was one time!”
“I don’t care!” he barks. “I’m done, Freddie. I’m done with all of it.”
Fear trickles down the back of my neck. He sounds pretty serious.
“Rory, mate, you can’t chuck me out! Where am I going to go?”
“That’s a you problem. You’re an adult. Figure it out.”
“I’m your brother!”
“Aye, and you’ve been leeching off me for years! I’m done.”
My heart skids. Rory’s threatened to kick me out before, but I always knew he wouldn’t actually go through with it. This time feels different though. This time might be for real.
“Please Rory,” I beg, desperate now. “I’ll try harder. I’ll take better care of the place. I’ll pay back what I owe you, just don’t kick me out!” I’m scrambling, searching for any way to save my own skin.
Rory narrows his eyes. “With what cash?”
“I’ll get more gigs soon,” I say, unconvincingly. “It’s just… it’s winter, you know. Things are a bit dry right now.”
He laughs at me, a little crueller than necessary. “You haven’t played a gig in months!”
That hurts, even if it's true. It’s been ages since my last gig. Not through lack of trying, but West Marbank’s a small Scottish town. It’s hard to find people who are willing to pay for a singer at the best of times—let alone in the off-season and in this economy—not that Rory will give a toss.
“Well, I’ll busk! I’ll go around all the pubs again. I’ll sing fucking Christmas carols door-to-door if I have to!” I give him my best puppy dog eyes. “I’ll find the money. Please Rory, don’t do this.”
I watch as my brother wrestles with his conscience. He may be furious, but he’s still my brother. He loves me. At least, I bloody hope he does. If not, I’ll be freezing my arse off on a park bench tonight!
Finally, he lets out a bitter sigh, his shoulders slumping.
