Page 8 of Wallflower

She forces the cigarette smoke from her nostrils like a dragon trying to curb the heat brewing in its chest. “Easily explained by the dead waters in this part of the ocean, and the gas eruptions that could bubble up and change the density of the air and water. Ships will sink faster than you can imagine, and be swept away by the jet stream. Airplanes too, if they crash from the engines stalling.”

“Where’s the bodies? They would bloat and float to the surface eventually.”

Chelsea sucks another puff into her lungs, letting it leak out between her lips before answering. “Do you know how many things in the ocean would eat a rotting body? Probably all of them. Maybe one of those mermaids you believe in dragged it into a cave for dinner.”

“They’re called sirens, assface.”

“Whatever. Nothing has vanished while passing through here in our lifetime, and I’ll bet my left tit that it won’t for the rest of our days either.”

“And after that?”

“Not my problem.” Sitting up, she reaches for the pack on my lap, snatching it up without asking.

Typical.

Opening it, she pulls a new cigarette free, replacing the one she’s almost finished. Using the tip of her nearly finished cigarette, Chelsea ignites the tip of the new one.

My jaw drops. Not only did I not know she smoked, but apparently chain-smoking is something she does.

Closing one eye, my sister rolls the old cigarette’s filter between her fingers. She taught herself to flick them with unnervingly deadly accuracy, and I'm sure if this balcony had rungs instead of safety glass, she’d be able to fling the butt through the gap.

Her marine coloured gaze slides my way as she sends the finished smoke flying through the air and off the edge without looking, a smirk pulling at her lips as I watch it disappear from sight.

“You know, some poor fishy could choke on that!” I complain.

She reclines herself back into the chair. “And where did your butt go?”

“Uhh…”

“Exactly. It’s not like we can dispose of them safely. One hint of smoke on us or the room and Michelle will descend upon us like the sea witch she is.”

I know she’s right, but I don’t have to like it.

Settling back into my seat, I plan to absorb the last few minutes of sunlight before heading off to shower. It’s not often Chelsea and I spend time alone anymore, and I’d like to soak it up for a few more minutes. Hopefully she can keep her obtuse comments to herself.

“So, did you fuck that guy in the bathroom?”

My eyes fly open, head whipping to the left to look at her. Her face is stone as she watches the ocean, ignoring my reaction on purpose, while I gape like a buffoon.

A snicker slips free, and she shifts to turn her body toward me, sprawling out on the lounger. Heat burns my face. “Kinda,” I reply.

“I knew it!” she joyfully squeals. “Wait…” she quiets. “What the hell do you mean by ‘kinda’?”

Oh, gods. This is too much. I don’t talk about dates, sex, or anything with anyone. “He only gave me half.”

“Half of what?”

“Him.”

She stares at me, gesturing with circling hands for me to carry on.

“His dick. He only fucked me with half of it,” I blurt. “Gods Chelsea, why did you make me explain it?”

“Why did he only half fuck you?”

“Seriously?” I exclaim.

“Yes!”