Two Fish

twenty nine || alaska

Alaska was up early the next morning, unable to sleep in for once. Even Minnie was still in bed, though it was impossible to ever be up before her mother, who had already been out to buy the newspaper. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her husband’s cheap reading glasses on the end of her nose, scanning the headlines.

“You’re up early,” she said when she saw Alaska, though it was nearing ten o’clock. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, fine,” she said. Her mother turned her attention back to the newspaper and smiled.

“I couldn’t sleep either, when I was first in love.”

Alaska glared at her mother’s back. “I’m not in love,” she said. Her mother stayed silent. “I’m not.”

“I said nothing, Lassie.”

“You said I was in love.”

“I said when I was in love,” her mother said, pedantically.

Alaska grumbled. “It’s the same thing.”

“You know, I’m not sure it is.”

“You were implying.”

“The fact that you assume that, well, it suggests to me…” Mrs Gouramie said. She turned the page of the newspaper. Alaska couldn’t be bothered to argue anymore so she made a bowl of cereal, her mother’s rabbit food muesli with strawberry yoghurt instead of milk.

“What’re you doing today?” her mother asked her. Alaska shrugged. “Wow, are you actually having a day at home, for once?” she laughed. At the start of the holiday, she’d had to force her daughter to leave the house.

“I dunno.”

“You don’t want to exhaust yourself. You’d end up sick of the sight of the boy, if you spent every waking moment with him.”

“I don’t spend every waking moment with him.”

“I said if you did.” She folded the paper away. “It’s a hypothetical.”

“I know.” Alaska put her bowl in the sink and examined herself in the kitchen mirror, wiping a dollop of yoghurt away with her sleeve.

“Don’t be mucky, honey. I’ll have to wash that now,” Mrs Gouramie said.

“No you won’t. They’re pyjamas.”

“That doesn’t mean they don’t need washing.”

Alaska rolled her eyes and pulled her top off, sauntering off to the laundry room in her bra and shorts.

“Put some clothes on while you’re at it,” her mother called after her.

“Whatever.”

There was a knock on the open front door. Alaska whipped around to see a red-faced Elver standing in the doorway.

“Oh my God,” she squeaked. trying to cover herself with the balled-up t-shirt.

“What?” her mother asked, joining her in the hallway. “Oh. Hi, Elver.”

“Sorry. I, uh, I can come back later,” he said, trying not to stare at Alaska, though it was hard. The two of them couldn’t have been redder if they tried.

“No, it’s ok. Just, let me find something to wear,” Alaska said. She scurried through to the laundry room and leant her forehead against the wall, cursing her decision to take off her top before she was safely there. She wondered how much Elver had seen, and then tried not to. He had looked pretty embarrassed – he had seen everything.