The kitchen phone rings. I go to the top of the stairs and listen for the machine to pick up. If it's the school, I'm erasing it before my parents get...home. It's not the school - it's Dad."Boy, you gods be damned well better pick up this phone or..."I pick it up before the 'or what' part, "Hey Dad." I try to sound casual but I doubt it works."What in the hell are you doing home, boy? Is Alex with you?" Ah, yeah." I cough and try to keep my teeth from chattering into the phone. "Yeah, we weren't. “Remember, no loud parties, no street races down the street and, for God's sake, don't burn the house down,” Colin quipped. Linda and I rolled our eyes at each other. “We'll be fine,” we chorused. “And please, mow that bloody lawn,” Colin repeated, as he and mum hurried out. We watched as our parents left on board the airport shuttle-bus, finished our breakfast and tidied up. Linda turned to me and adjusted my tie, then she slipped her arms up around my neck. I wrapped my arms around her. More

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