June, Reimagined (13)
There was something oddly familiar about the scene, from the food to the disheveled look of the housemates. A Sunday morning at the Nestled Inn resembled a Sunday morning at the Tri Gamma house: everyone slightly hungover, tired, and starving.
“You should see breakfast at my sorority house,” June answered. “By now someone would have mentioned blow jobs and puking . . . potentially in the same story.”
Angus perked up. “Details, please.”
Just then a man burst into the kitchen, dressed head to toe in traditional Highland apparel: kilt, Jacobite shirt, sporran, kilt hose, and ghillie brogues. His shoulder-length brown hair was pulled into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. Eva introduced June to David Corrigan. English like Eva and an actor by trade, David was quick to inform June that he had played Hamlet in the Oxford School of Drama’s production of the play to rave reviews just two years ago and now led tours at the Highland Museum, impersonating a Scottish Jacobite for eight pounds an hour—a fact he could not get over to this very day.
After the detailed monologue, David asked the group, “Whose fucking idea was it to do fucking shots last night?”
“Yours, idiot,” Angus said.
“‘O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I.’” David gagged. “I have the mouth sweats.”
Angus smacked him on the back. “Cheer up, mate. You might be a loser, but at least you’re still ugly.”
“Forgot your shirt again this morning?” David asked. “Or did it run away when it saw your pint-size penis?”
“There’s nothing pint size about my hog.” Angus flexed his pecs. “Who would ever think a scrawny bawbag like you is Scottish?”
“Thanks to Mel Gibson, everyone outside Scotland.” David turned to June. “You must be the American plot twist. Heard all about you at the pub last night. First piece of advice: take everything Angus says and cut it in half. He struggles with delusions of grandeur, especially when it comes to size. He was never any good at maths.”
Angus grabbed David, who was considerably smaller and skinnier, in a headlock and gave him a noogie. “How does your head feel now?”
“I’m having flashbacks to primary school,” David said with a strained voice, his face growing redder. “Don’t you have to nail in a screw somewhere?”
Angus let go. “You don’t nail a screw, idiot.”
David fixed his disheveled ponytail and poured himself a cup of tea.
Just then Amelia’s mobile phone started to ring. She grumbled, seeing the caller, and picked up. “Yes, Brother? How may I help you today? Aye. I told Hamish she could stay . . . No, I don’t care what you say. I have every right to take her in. I’m part owner. I put up with the bloody animals on the walls. You can put up with her!” Lennox’s raised but muffled voice was audible as Amelia held the phone away from her ear and rolled her eyes. “Ack, wheesht, Lennox! Calm down!” She scurried out of the kitchen to take the rest of the call in private.
“I’ve always found Lennox to be such a charming fellow,” David said.
“You don’t bloody know him, so keep your comments to yourself,” Angus snapped back, serious for the first time that June had seen. But then he grinned slyly at her. “Let me know if you need anything screwed later, Peanut. I’m also trained in mouth to mouth . . . if you need further medical assistance.” And then he left.
David stood. “I better crack on, too. Another day of tourists, bagpipes, kilts, haggis, and fried Mars bars. It was a pleasure to meet you, June. My advice: keep your door locked when Angus is home. He conveniently needs to ‘fix’ something in your bathroom when he hears a shower running.” He left with a dramatic bow.
Amelia reentered the kitchen then, sliding her phone back into her pocket, and looking exhausted. “Wanker,” she complained.
This was all June’s fault. If she weren’t here, Amelia wouldn’t be fighting with her brother. June couldn’t justify tearing a brother and sister apart, especially when their parents were dead. She knew that kind of regret, and she wouldn’t wish it on anyone. “I should just leave,” she said.
“No!” Amelia protested. “You have to stay.”
“But I’m causing problems between you and your brother.”
“No, you’re not. What Lennox can’t understand is that I’m trying to solve a problem. I’m trying to bloody well help him, but the stubborn arse won’t ever listen.” Amelia took a mug down from the cabinet and poured herself some tea. “Just make me a promise, June. Don’t leave.”
“But why would you put yourself out for me?” June asked.
Amelia waved away the question and took a sip of her tea. “No need to worry about that. Just promise me you’ll stay.”
June nodded. After all, she had nowhere else to go.
“Good.” Amelia filled up a plate with eggs and toast for June. “Now, eat up. You’re gonna need all the energy you can get.”
SIX
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: crabs
OH MY GOD! trevor garrison has crabs!!! and now half the phi gamma delta house has them, too! thank god i didn’t hook up with him last weekend.
so . . . apparently u r in michigan at ur grandparents?? BORING. school is in session. get your ass back here! i called your cell but it went straight to voicemail. i need my roommate!! who’s gonna watch 90210 reruns with me and make fun of donna’s boobs?