“Don’t do it,” Evan says next to me.
My father has magically disappeared, and we’re the only ones left at the table.
“Do what?” I ask, curious.
“She’s a disaster, in every sense of the word.”
“What? No, I…”
He looks at me, his eyebrows raised. “And, please, don’t look at her arse like that – not in front of me. That’s my mum, for fuck’s sake!”
“I wasn’t looking at anything!”
“Yeah, right…look, I do things like that, too.”
“Seriously? How old are you again, kid?”
He looks at me, his face serious. “Way older than you – at least, way more mature than you, mate.”
“You’re way off, I’m not interested in your mum.”
“You’re fucked. You know that, right?”
“I don’t get it…”
“You will…” he says, wisely.
“Hey, what are you two talking about?” Christine comes back into the room with a tray in her hands.
“Your arse,” Evan says right away.
“Ryan O’Connor!” my mother appears from behind her.
“Me? Fuck, no, that’s not true…I wasn’t…”
Evan grabs my arm and nods at me to just leave it. Then he leans in and whispers: “Fucked,” enunciating every letter.
And I know that he’s completely right.
