My bedroom door bumped against the bundled-up bathrobe and Eight slipped into my room, helpfully picking up my doorstop and trailing it across the floor to my bed.
"Thanks," I said, flipping the laptop closed. "I put that there to keep you guys out."
Most of the time I didn't really mind the others coming in my room, but sometimes I just wished I could have a bit of time on my own. Eight climbed onto my bed, a little blueprint of me. Pale skin with a permanent blush, even paler tufty hair, and deep blue sleepy eyes.
"What are you doing?"
"Yeah, what are you doing?" said Nine, sauntering in with her recorder swinging menacingly from her fingers—I absolutely was not in the mood for a screechy recital of "God Bless America."
I said, "Nothing, and if you're planning on playing that thing, please do it in your own room. Or in the loft. Or on the moon."
"You are doing something," insisted Nine. "We heard you talking."
Eva toddled in, her thumb in her mouth. She flopped Peepee on my bed. Eva, of course, had the original Peepee. Hers had soggy, chewed ears, and she carried him everywhere. She loved him with a passion bordering on violence. Miraculously, she pushed him toward me. I couldn't help but smile at the offer of such a treasured possession. I took Peepee, avoiding his wet ears, and pulled Eva onto the bed, pressing a kiss on her soft little head. Eight opened my laptop, and I reached around and took it back from her.
"No chance, you."
"I need it."
"You don't."
"I do. I'm going to find Dad."
I froze for a second. Dad left years ago. We had no idea where he went, but we all secretly yearned for him—yep, even though we'd guessed he'd probably run out on us because we were so weird. What kid doesn't want a dad in their life? As gently as I could, I said, "Don't start this again. He's not on Facebook, we looked, remember?" Her chin wobbled and my heart twisted for her, for us. I felt the dad-shaped hole in our life just as much as she did. As all of them did. Except Fifteen, who'd never admit to missing anyone who'd let her down so much.
I relented. "Go on, then, see what you can find."
She definitely thought about him more than the rest of us—I reckoned it was a combination of too much boredom and too much Enid Blyton. She'd built up a picture of a big bear of a man who was desperately sorry for leaving and was now searching for us. It was as good a picture as any. I gave Eight half a smile and said, "If you find him, I get first dibs on all the pocket money we're due, okay?"
She smiled and hunched over the keyboard.
Eva took Peepee back. "'Smine," she said, stuffing his soggy ear into her mouth.
"Teva?" Mom's tired voice called up the stairs, followed by her heavy tread. There were three floors in our rambling old house, and we needed all of them. My room was only on the second floor, but it still took Mom a good couple of minutes to puff her way up. She stopped in the doorway to catch her breath before complaining, "Can't you hear me calling? I need help in the kitchen."
"I've got homework. Can't one of the others help?"
Mom flinched. "I'm asking you. Don't make a thing of it. The place is a mess, and I've got a book to finish writing by the end of the week. Please?"
She gave me a sad puppy look.
"All right," I said. "I'll be down in two minutes."
I sat Eva back against my pillows, tickling her tiny ribs. She squawked happily for a second, and a little pang darted through me, that this was all the happiness she ever got.
I knew she tried, but Mom had no idea what it was like for us. My stomach clenched as my future flashed through my mind again. This every day forever, only without school, without ...
My phone beeped.
Got time for a chat?
Mads. I messaged back.
Later. Am required to wait hand and foot on Mom x
I texted Ollie too:
Hope soccer was good, love you xxx
How could I manage without them in my life? What would be the point? I flicked away the messages and let my fingers linger on my background photo. Our happy faces filled the screen, Ollie's beautiful brown cheek pressed against my pink one. We'd gone to Yellow Lake for the day. It had been freezing cold but so worth it. I felt like he was mine, at last, completely mine—not seen through Fifteen's eyes or kissed through Fifteen's lips. We'd stopped under a huge tree that had a sort of dip in it. He'd leaned me back against the bark and blocked the wind with his body, and as he looked down at me, I was safe. Warm and safe and home.
The memory of that outing twisted inside me, tainted by Fifteen's bitter rantings. The trip wasn't meant for me. It should have happened the Saturday before, but Ollie had postponed it for a soccer game. Fifteen had been looking forward to it for weeks, but she never got to go. I took over, and I took Ollie. She never got to see him again.
You can see why she hated me.
