12 Days 'til Christmas ✓

chapter thirteen

Shit. I love my sister dearly, but that puts a spanner in the works. "I don't have anywhere for you to sleep, Pea."

"You have a whole ass spare room."

"And a roommate."

Her jaw drops. I guess Mum hasn't passed on the news about Casper. "What? Since when?! Beth!"

"Since five days ago," I say. "My friend Casper needed somewhere to stay; he's in my spare room."

"Ugh." Paisley sulks and sinks into her chair. "We'll have to share a bed."

"You are not sharing a bed with Cas. First of all, you're sixteen and he's twenty-five. Second of all, just no. You've never even met. That's so weird."

"Jesus, Bee. I meant you and me." She splutters a laugh, spraying crumbs over the table and covering her mouth too late. "Or I can have your bed and you can sleep on the sofa." She bats long eyelashes at me, naturally blessed without the need for mascara.

"Or, you can sleep on the sofa, cheeky little miss."

Her nose wrinkles. "No can do. You see, I have school in the morning, and school is very important to studious pupils like me. I need at least eight hours of good quality sleep." She folds her arms on the table, nodding as she talks. When I flick her arm, she shrieks way louder than necessary.

"I'm not going on the sofa," I say.

"We can share. Like old times!" Paisley grins, bending and flexing the plastic ten pound note. "I'm a very quiet sleeper. Dipsy says it freaks her out, 'cause she thinks I've died."

Sometimes it's hard to keep up with my little sister. Not only does she talk fast, but she has a whole life, a whole set of friends, that I don't know much about. It's been years since we lived in the same house and I was privy to all of her school gossip, back when I knew all of her friends and all of the news.

"Who on earth is Dipsy?"

Paisley laughs. "It's what we call Aaliyah," she says. "She knows, don't worry. Bit of an airhead, but I am totally in love with her." A long sigh escapes her. She steals another piece of my croissant. I push it across to her and figure I'll just buy myself a new one.

That's classic Paisley. She falls in love fast and hard, her heart tripping over every other girl she knows. "Does Dipsy know that you like her?"

"Oh, yeah." She leans back again and swings one leg over the other. "I think she's kind of my girlfriend? Honestly, not too sure. We haven't had the talk"—she puts the words in air quotes—"but, like, we spend most of our time together. And most of that time is spent making out, not gonna lie."

She's such a whirlwind, almost running out of breath as she talks. There are no secrets when it comes to my little sister; as far as I know, she has never felt the need to keep anything from me. I was the first person she came out to, way back when she was twelve, a week before she baited our parents into a conversation about boys, just so she could triumphantly tell them that she's a lesbian.

"Sounds like she's your girlfriend, Pea," I say, laughing. "Congratulations!"

"Cheers. You'd like her. She's fucking hilarious. Not very academic, but who gives a shit about academics?"

I raise my eyebrows at her. "I think you do, Little Miss I-Aced-My-History-Test."

She flaps a hand. "Irrelevant. Anyway, opposites attract, right?" Picking at my croissant, she tears it into pieces and demolishes it within seconds, flakes of pastry cascading down the front of her uniform. A scruffy girl, her shirt's untucked and her skirt's skew-whiff, a ladder in her tights and mud on her shoes.