two in a million,, tommyinnit.

xix

⚠️Tw: angst, mentions of alcohol and alcoholism at later points (warning symbols are placed where necessary)⚠️

"I'm home!" I yell, slamming the front door.

"Ello!" Annie grins, looking up from where she's ploughing through her maths homework at the kitchen table.

"Hi." I shrug off my rucksack, and look round the corner. "No Mum or Dad?"

She shakes her head, sighing. "Mum called. Said they're gonna be late home. Again. They're gonna be here at around, like, 7."

"Oh. Well, that's better than like, 7:01, I guess," I say jokingly, ruffling her corkscrew curls.

She laughs, but it's more hollow than usual.

"Come on, let's do something fun," I say energetically, plopping down into the chair beside her and nudging her.

"Mm, nah, it's fine." She squints at the next question and starts to sketch out a graph in her exercise book.

"Okay..." I sigh, pushing the chair back out again with a squeak and heading to the kitchen cupboard, where my stash of fizzy drinks is. From my bag, which is still lying by the door, I extract my school planner and flip through it.

As much as I don't believe in it, I should probably start my homework.

With a sigh, I sit down opposite to Annie and flip open the family laptop.

Nearly five hours later, I'm starting to doubt whether what she said was really true.

"Are you sure they said 7?" I ask her again, checking my watch for what feels like the fiftieth time this hour and tapping my foot impatiently.

Annie responds with a yawn and a slight nod. She is curled up on the floor under the dining room table in her pyjamas, somewhere we've both liked to sit ever since we were young. Her head brushes the underside of the table, and she is flicking through WhatsApp notifications on her phone.

I reach under the table and yank her out by her wrist, and she rubs her eyes. "What?"

"You're going to bed," I tell her, dragging her out of the room and turn the corner towards the stairs.

"But I want to wait until they get home," she argues, tugging me back.

"Well, that isn't gonna be any time soon, is it?" I counter, raising an eyebrow.

She gazes back at me with sad dark eyes, and for a moment I forget about her age. All I see is a girl, a sad, young girl, who needs her parents.

"No," she whispers. The word hangs in the air for a few seconds, twisting its way through my stomach, filling me with guilt, sympathy, and anger.

"Come on, Annie-Bunny," I say softly, taking her hand and leading her up the stairs.

"It's not worth-"

The front door creaks open, like the worst theatrical timing in the world.

"Mummy!" Annie shrieks, and, elbowing past me, she barrels her way down the stairs and hurls herself at the two figures in the doorway.

⚠️Tw⚠️

"Whoa, there!" my mum giggles, staggering under the weight of my sister. "Stand up and give your Mummy a nice hug!"