Sirens

Life is like a threesome; people spend their whole lives bleating on about how they're going to do it and they hardly ever do.  Take Mal; he spent all his time yapping in my ear about the next girl he was going to shag, when I'm almost a hundred percent sure he's still firmly in possession of his V plates.  I mean, what girl's going to want to say she's shagged a lad with the name Malvolio Kali?

None.  None at all.

"How was your mam?" Mal's voice shatters my internal monologue and I sigh, leaning on the railings of the pier.  How was mam?  She hadn't cried this time I went to see her, which had to be something, but she still had no idea how to act around me.

"She's fine." I lie smoothly.  "They'll let her out soon, I know it." Aye, that was wishful thinking at it's finest.  Mam wasn't anywhere near ready to come home and I still haven't cleaned up the blood from between the bathroom tiles.

"Then you'll be comin' out on Friday?" Mal almost seems to light up at the idea and I resist the urge to bury my face in my hands.  Lads don't cry.  Especially lads with the name Tyron Andrew.  Crying was what mam did at night before she ended up locking herself in the bathroom.

And if there's one thing I never want to be, it's my mam.

"No, Mal," I sigh, rubbing my face wearily as I look out across the grey sea.  "I'm not comin' out on Friday.  I have to take Shane and Nate...somewhere." I should probably find out where I was meant to be taking the twins on Friday, but dad didn't really care where I took them as long as they were out.

Friday night was the night dad pretended he wasn't married.  Mam probably knew an' all.  It was probably his fault that mam cut her wrists open with the same scissors Shane and Nate used to do their bright wee art homework.

Dad should've known it was going to push mam over; the whole bloody street knew that she had more mood swings than a brothel had whores.

"But your dad could take them out!" Mal whines; God, sometimes I thought he was gay.  He never left me alone.

"Dad's busy on a Friday." I snap, pushing myself off the railing as I feel for my fags.  If I'm going to have to have this conversation, I think I deserve one wee cigarette to calm my nerves.  "Just go off without me, Mal, the world won't end." I roll my eyes at the lost look on Mal's face and move my face closer to his.  "Get it through your head, Malvolio, I'm no' coming out with you on Friday.  Just go...I don't know!" I throw my hands up, almost sending my cigarettes over the railing in the process.  "Go have a life!" I suggest, pulling a fag out and quickly shoving the box back in my pocket before Mal can try to nab one.

If he tries to take the box out of my pocket, he's going to get decked in the face, I think as I watch him lean against the railings.

"Fine." Mal sulks.  "But don't blame me when I've had all the lasses and there's none left for you!" He exclaims and I snort with laughter at the idea of Mal getting any lass, let alone all of them.

"Sure, Mal, I'll go home and cry like a wee girl over it." I reply sarcastically, my eyes rolling.

"Y'can be a dick, Ty, y'know that don't you?" Mal checks and I shrug, taking my lighter from my pocket.

"So I've been told.  But now you've said it, I'll be sure to work on it." I mutter as I spark up, sheltering the flame from the icy sea air with my hand.  I'll be damned if a breeze stops me getting my nicotine fix.

"Whatever." Mal snaps before swirling around and stalking off back up the pier.  There was another reason I thought Mal was reluctant to leave his closet: how many lads do you see who swirl off?  Maybe I should ask his sister if-

Actually, no, Tammy might hit me if she sees my face again and it would be unacceptable to taint this perf-

Nah, I'm probably the furthest you can get from perfection, but the lassies seem to love me anyway.  If I could bottle up what made them love me, I'd never have to work a day in my life.  I could quit stacking shelves at Tesco and actually have time to live my life.