When I wake up later that morning, it's light and I can hear movement from somewhere inside the flat. I don't know whether it's my brother or burglar Brad. Either way, I'm feeling hungry and breakfast is calling me.
Now it's morning, I have mixed feelings about last night's... altercation. I'm slightly amused that Tris's flatmate /bandmate was nearly stabbed and/or bashed with a frying pan by me. Though I'm wondering whether Brad will see the funny side.
I'm also slightly embarrassed that I went all ninja on him but it was just self-defence. Imagine if it had actually been a burglar or a murderer or a stalker-fangirl.
Mainly I'm pissed off. I'm pissed off that my brother failed to mention that I'd be sharing his flat with another guy as well as him. I mean, would it really have been that much trouble to tell me? Surely not. And it's not like it's a minor detail, is it? A whole other human being makes a big difference when living together. For example, if Brittany wasn't living in my actual home, I wouldn't be at Tristan's right now.
I'm pissed off at this Brad too. It wasn't my fault I didn't know who he was. He didn't need to keep frowning and swearing and rolling his eyes at me; I was only trying to defend myself. He should have been aware that someone coming in at 2 in the morning may make other members of the household question whether said person is an intruder or not. And he should feel lucky I didn't just instantly charge at him with the knife as soon as he walked in the kitchen. I spared him his life.
I sit up in my bed and grab a hair elastic from on top of my dressing table, tying my hair up and away from my face. Then, I climb out of bed and pull my hoodie on over my body, before wandering through my new home towards the kitchen.
It's just Tristan who is in there when I enter. He seems to be messing around with the toaster so I sit down quietly on a stool at the kitchen island. I remind myself that I'm pissed off at him so I don't make the effort to go to him first; he can come to me.
He sits down across from me and pushes a plate of toast towards me across the island.
"I was joking about the toast," I tell him, referring back to our conversation last night before we went to bed.
"It's your first morning here and I want to say sorry for not telling you about Brad" he says sheepishly, "I've been a bit forgetful with you lately"
"You left me at the train station"
"Okay, very forgetful" he adds, "but I'm very sorry so eat your toast"
I go ahead and do so, chatting with my brother for a short while before I decide to start unpacking my stuff. I start with the bathroom because nobody's in there at the moment and take the toiletries I want to put in there with me. I sit on top of the toilet seat and get to work, but as I'm arranging my toothbrush and toothpaste in a cup, the curly-haired bastard from last night barges into the bathroom. He barely even glances in my direction. I flare my nostrils and watch as he picks up his own toothbrush and starts smearing toothpaste across it.
Jesus, does he walk in everywhere unannounced? Or is it just to irritate me?
"Do you mind?" I say sarcastically.
"The door wasn't locked" he shrugs.
"I'm clearly busy in here" I inform him, "and I was here first"
"I'm only brushing my teeth" he mutters through a mouthful of toothbrush.
"I could have been doing anything in here for all you know," I say sternly, scowling at him. He turns his head to acknowledge me for the first time since entering the bathroom with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes and a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Smug prick.
I simply ignore him and he continues to brush his teeth whilst I carry on unpacking my toiletries. I place my shampoo and conditioner next to the shower, before taking a box of Tampax out of my bag and place it on the side near the sink whilst I find the other box that's somewhere in my bag.
"You're not gonna leave those there, right?"
I stop searching and look up at him.
"Why? Are they bothering you?" I ask sarcastically.
"Not as much as you seem to be" he mutters but I'm glad I'm bothering him, "but really? Can you not move them somewhere else?" He asks. I pull my face at him. I was planning on putting them away in the cupboard but if he is so offended by them, I consider leaving them where they are.
"They're not radioactive" I tell him, rolling my eyes.
"I still don't wanna look at them every time I use the bathroom"
"Well, I don't want crippling stomach cramps and for my vagina to bleed uncontrollably for a week every month but it happens anyway" I inform, making him pull his face at the image I've conjured up in his head, "we can't always get what we want"
"Oh, you know what? Leave them there" he begins, "they might come in handy when you next get violent and try to knife me again"
"It was self-defence!" I argue.
"I live here!"
"I didn't know that!" I hiss.
"For God's sake, what's wrong now?" We hear a third voice groan. It's Tristan in the doorway and he looks exhausted by mine and Brad's bickering already.
"Does your sister have to give me graphic descriptions of her period?" Brad whines. Jesus, you'd think he was a pre-pubescent boy with the immaturity I've witnessed from him this morning. Imagine being so much of a pussy that you can't handle hearing about one.
"It was hardly graphic" I scoff, "try actually having one"
"Well, I can't really, can I? Considering I don't have a vagina" he snaps back sarcastically.
"Right, you just are one"
Tristan just sighs and turns around, stalking off to the kitchen again. I think he just can't be arsed dealing with this petty argument. It's all Brad's fault anyway.
They're only tampons.
"So are you, you know..." Brad begins, before gesturing at the box of Tampax.
"What?" I say, eyeing him carefully.
"On your period?"
I narrow my eyes at him.
"It would explain a lot of your behaviour" he continues, "the sarcasm, the scowling, the general moodiness, the violence... mainly the violence..."
I continue to stare at him with a hostile expression.
"I'm going to take that as a yes"
"No, I'm not" I inform him.
"Oh great" he mutters, "so do you get more violent when it is?"
Jesus, this guy asks a lot of personal questions.
"Yes, I do," I tell him with a sarcastic smile as I stand up, "that's next week, lucky you"
And with that, I push past him and shut the door loudly behind me.
* * * * * * *
I'm nearly finished unpacking my belongings and arranging them around my new room when I hear a knock at my door.
"Come in" I call and I see Tristan's head bob around the door. He smiles as he takes in the sight of my room.
"It looks better in here now it's got all your stuff in it," he says.
"I like it more than my room at home," I tell him, "I mean, it doesn't have a giant ferret living in it so..."
Tristan gives me a disapproving look but you can see he's hiding his smile. He walks across my room and takes a seat on my bed so he facing opposite me. I look at him as I wait for him to begin whatever conversation he's planned.
"First up, I just wanna say that you can treat my home like your home, okay?" He tells me, so I nod, "and you are welcome to stay here as long as you like"
"Thank you," I say quietly.
"It's no problem" he smiles softly, "I also wanted to say sorry again about forgetting to tell you about Brad, he's moved in a few weeks ago because he needed a place to stay and it makes the rent cheaper for me, I mentioned it to mum so I just presumed that you already knew"
Well, my mum doesn't tell me anything. Unless she did mention it to me and I was too busy bickering with Brittany to take any notice...
"Anyway, while we're on the subject of Brad..." Tris continues, "I just wanted to make a few things clear"
"Okay..." I say, urging him on to get to the point of this conversation.
"Well, you're eighteen now"
"Oh, well, at least you remembered that," I say sarcastically but he just ignores my comment.
"And Brad's only three years older than you so... you know..."
I narrow my eyes in confusion. Seriously, am I supposed to know where the hell this conversation is going?
"No, I don't know"
"You're both at that age and you might have certain... feelings, and want to, you know..."
Really? Is he really going down this road?
Though I'm actually more surprised about the fact that he has the balls to bring this conversation up with me than I am surprised that he doesn't want me getting involved with one of his friends. His protectiveness of me covers all members of the male species and his own mates are not exempt.
"I'm not gonna shag Brad," I tell him bluntly. He visibly cringes at my statement but I'm sick of him tiptoeing around the subject.
"Jesus" he mutters to himself, shaking his head.
"It's what you wanted to hear" I shrug, "I'm pretty sure that any possible sexual tension completely went out the window when I threatened to stab him and then had an argument with him about tampons," I inform him.
"Okay, so you got off to a bad start but I'm sure you'll get over it"
"I don't want to get over it," I scoff, "he's arrogant and immature and annoying"
"He's not," Tristan tells me, "he's not when you get to know him"
"Oh, well, I'll probably sleep with him then"
Tristan gives me a warning glare. I grin in response
"It was a joke"
"I know, it just wasn't funny" he tuts, "anyway, I'm going to speak to Brad, and the other lads too, just to let them know that you're completely off limits to them"
I fake a sigh, "I wish you'd told me that before Connor and I had sex in his car"
"I hope that was another joke," he says sternly.
Honestly, sometimes, I think I'm too funny.
"You know why I'm like this, don't you? I just don't want you to get hurt" he says softly, before adding, "and I certainly don't want one of my mates being the one who's caused it, I don't want that drama"
"I don't want that drama either"
"Good," he says, leaning over and pulling me into a tight bear hug. "you know, I'm just looking out for you, don't you?"
"I know" I nod, hugging him back, "I don't need you to look out for me but I know you will anyway"
"Always, you're my little sister" he smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, "I love you"
"Awww" I coo in a sarcastic way.
"Oi, you're supposed to say it back, not take the piss" he scoffs, poking my side playfully with his finger.
"I'm your little sister, of course I'm supposed to take the piss" I smirk.
"Say it back or I'll chuck you out" he warns me.
"Shut up, you twat" I laugh, knowing he wouldn't have the heart to chuck me out.
"Threatening you used to work when we were younger" he sighs over-dramatically as he pulls away.
"It didn't as soon as I realised that you'd never have the balls to actually chop off Air Hostess Barbie's hair" I shrug. It was my most treasured Barbie doll and when Tristan said he'd do that, seven-year-old Ella cried for about two hours and my mum shouted at him until I eventually got over it and stole his PlayStation controller in an act of revenge. It was hidden at the back of my wardrobe under a pile of old My Little Pony's and a very frustrated Tristan couldn't play on his PlayStation for five whole days until he found it.
"I wish I had now" he mutters, sticking his tongue out playfully at me as he stood up from my bed.
"And I wish I'd hidden your PlayStation controller in a better place" I retort, standing up too and pushing him towards the door, "now leave me alone, I've got things to unpack, flatmates to have sex with and whatnot"
He gives me another warning glare as he opens the door. As he steps out onto the corridor, we see Brad emerging from his room.
"See, he's here now" I joke, before looking at the imaginary watch on my wrist, "and ten minutes early too, very eager"
Brad frowns at me in confusion but I just smile sweetly at him.
"Stop it" Tristan warns.
"What's she on about?" Brad questions.
"Nothing" my brother mutters, "just ignore her"
"Gladly" Brad says in reply. Sounds perfect to me; all he's done is annoy me so far.
"I'm keeping an eye on you, El" Tristan tells me as he slides an arm around Brad's shoulders, guiding him towards his room, "now mate, we need to have a quick chat..."
I just roll my eyes. My brother is so bloody overdramatic. Honestly, I wouldn't touch Brad with a bargepole.
* * * * * * *
It's around three in the afternoon when the front door of Tristan's flat bursts open and two guys bounce into the flat. One of them is Connor and so I assume the other is the fourth band member, who I have yet to be introduced to. He's tanned and has very nicely toned arms so I think this could be the one Gemma kept banging on about. And probably wants to bang.
"Hey Ella" Connor smiles as he walks into the living room where Tristan, Brad and I are sat watching the football. Well, I'm not really watching it, I'm doodling in an old notebook because I have zero interest in the football. I don't even know which teams are playing.
"Hi Connor" I reply, smiling back. Connor really is lovely. I'd much rather share a flat with him than Brad.
"Hello, yes, we are present too" Tristan tuts, waving his hand above his head to get their attention.
"I see you nearly every day of my life" Connor laughs, "I'm bored of your face"
"Thanks"
"You must be Ella" Sexy Arms says whilst ignoring those two, flashing me a smile too as he comes and sits down next to me, "I'm James, Tris tells us all about you"
"Moaning about me?"
"Not at all" he tells me, "all lovely things"
"Lovely things?" I frown, "sounds like he was lying"
"You're not that bad," Connor chuckles, sitting down on the other side of me so I'm in a James/Connor sandwich. I don't mind because they both smell really, really great.
"She is" Brad mutters.
"Brad" my brother frowns, but I ignore him. Connor and James shift uncomfortably next to me and give confused looks between me and Brad. I just lean back on the sofa and go back to my doodling. The boys turn their attention back to the football and the atmosphere soon relaxes again. James is leaned forward, engrossed in the match and groaning or cheering at all the right moments whilst Connor leans back and rests his arm across the back of the sofa behind me. It's nice to be relaxing with my brother and his band like we're all just mates. Apart from Brad. He's not my mate.
"That's dead good" Connor says randomly. I look up to see his head tilted as he admires my doodling with a look of interest.
"It's just a doodle" I shrug, "I'm not really trying"
"Do you draw other stuff?" Connor asks me.
"Yeah" I tell him, "I'd love to have a career that involves drawing or something arty"
"Ah, that's really cool" he smiles.
"Yeah, I applied to University of the Arts here in London but I didn't get in so I'm gonna try again next year"
"Well, good for you" he says encouragingly.
"Thanks" I smile.
"Could you not have gone to another art school?" James asks me out of curiosity.
"I had my heart set on UAL" I explain, "I've been to the campus a few times and I couldn't really imagine myself anywhere else"
"Fair enough"
"If they've rejected you once, what's the point in reapplying?" Brad says haughtily.
"Because they might accept me next time"
"Why would they want someone who they've already rejected once?"
"Because I'll improve over the next year and I'll have more to offer them"
"Or maybe you'll threaten to stab them with a knife if they don't let you in"
His comment puts me instantly in a bad mood and I'm really starting to regret not stabbing him. I lift my pencil and throw it across the room, aiming for Brad. The eraser end hits him bang in the middle of the forehead.
"Ow!" He cries, whilst the rest of the boys start laughing, and I feel very proud of my hit, "fucking hell, you nearly had my eye out, you crazy bitch-"
"Hey, don't call my sister!" Tristan warns as Brad is clutching pathetically at his head. Drama queen.
"Last night she nearly stabbed me and now she's nearly blinded me as well" Brad defends, "I'm gonna get killed having her live here, or at least get severely injured"
"What a shame that would be" I reply flatly.
"I don't care what she's done" Tristan argues, ignoring me, "just don't call her a 'bitch'"
"Can I call her crazy then?" Brad mutters.
"No, you call her Ella and that's it"
"Yeah, Brad" I smirk in a childish voice.
"See, she provokes me" Brad exclaims, pointing in my direction.
"Then take no notice of her"
"Yeah, Brad, you're a big boy now" I grin, absolutely loving how much I was winding him up, "just ignore me"
Brad's just shaking his head, rolling his eyes and biting back sarcastic comments. Connor and James are chuckling quietly to themselves. Tristan's sighing and probably wondering if Brad and I are going to be bickering all the time.
And I'm just sat here loving every minute of it.
"How's the football going anyway?" James says, quickly diverting the subject and diffusing the tension. Tristan begins conversing with James whilst Brad is narrowing his eyes at me.
"So what's the deal between you and Brad?" Connor asks me in a hushed tone.
"I don't know" I shrug, keeping my voice low, "we didn't get off on the best foot last night"
"I thought you'd get on" Connor tells me, "you and Brad are really quite similar, you know"
"We're not similar" I say flatly.
"You are" he smiles knowingly.
"I'm not that whiny, or irritating... Am I?
"No, Brad isn't either, I think you just clash"
"What are you two whispering about?"
Connor and I look in Tristan's direction to see him with his eyebrows raised.
"Nothing" we both shrug simultaneously. Tristan stares at us for a few moments before he speaks.
"James and Connor, can I have a quick word with you two for a sec?" My brother announces, before standing up and leaving the room. James and Connor give each other confused looks, but get up and follow him. Time for them to get the Tristan talk.
I lean back against the sofa and it's only now when I realise that it's just me and Brad alone. My head tells me to ignore him but my heart tells me I should wind him up a bit more.
Hmmm.
I glance over. His eyes are glued to the screen and his facial expression is hostile, slight frown and furrowed eyebrows.
"Brad" I begin, "can I have my pencil back please?"
"I thought I was supposed to ignore you," he says flatly, not taking his eyes off the screen.
"Well, by saying that, you've just spoken to me, so clearly you can't bring yourself to do it" I reason, "I can't blame you"
He turns his head and stares at me blankly.
Wow, I must really, really annoy this guy.
Oh well.
He sighs and tosses the pencil back over to me, but thankfully not with the force that I threw it at him earlier.
"Thanks," I say but he doesn't reply. Then it's silent again and a little bit awkward. The noises of football on the telly are the only sound.
I'm just looking at Brad though I know he's more interested in the football than speaking to me, and I can't help but find him mildly attractive. I mean, he was more attractive when I thought he was just a burglar, and not after I'd lived with him for a few hours. In those few hours he'd managed to stress at me about tampons, call me a 'crazy bitch' amongst other insults and swear words - I'm pretty sure he hates me. And I'm pretty sure that makes him less attractive...
But he does have nice hair. And I suppose his accent is... endearing. And he's got a nice arse.
Probably. I mean, I totally haven't looked... so probably has a nice arse.
"Can you stop staring at me?" Brad says flatly, without even looking away from the telly, "it's creepy"
"I'm not staring at you" I scoff.
"Good"
"Good"
"I really don't like you" he mutters.
"Good"
I lied. He's not attractive. He's an arsehole.
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