“Welcome home, Ms. Donovan.” The home computer chimed above her as she crossed the threshold.
“Shut up, I can’t handle you tonight.” Technology.
“Yes, Ms. Donovan. Switching to manual. Have a wonderful evening.”
Sometimes that computer felt a little too lesbian love affair for her. Brisbane would probably love that.
“HEY!” she shouted into the foyer. No response. He’s either asleep or taking a little personal time. Well, this should be embarrassing for him.
She clicked up the three stairs and stood in the doorway to the main room. Brisbane was there, reading through schematics. The setting sun had caught up with him; the room was almost completely dark. She raised a hand and lifted the lights on. His head popped up, “Close.” Everything on the screens around him went to his homepage. A very sensitive portrait of a man, Brisbane always kept pictures of women in what now passed for bikinis close at hand.
“You could have given me something to tell them. You knew I was going to get stopped.” She tossed the case across the room at him and went to sit next to him in a twin swivel black chair.
“I didn’t know you were going to get stopped.” He chuckled.
“I always get stopped.” She unzipped her riding jacket and boots, “I just wish you cared when things happen to me. I mean what would you do if you didn’t have me to cross to the mainland for you?”
“I’d pay some kid to.” He smirked.
“Funny,” she responded with venom, “How was Breastia last night?”
He laughed, “It was great. Got sloshed with the boys. They missed you. You should have come.”
“I’m sorry if I don’t want to spend my free time with strippers that know you on a first name basis.” She leaned back in the chair, stretching.
“They aren’t strippers, they are certified specialist dancers.” He shook his head, mocking her, “Don’t pretend you don’t envy that kind of liberty. I know you think they are dumb but they are just… sharing their gift. Besides, what’s the point of going to college these days anyway?”
“You would say that.” She shook her head for the millionth time. How could they keep having this conversation when she had dropped out as fast as he had?
“These dancers, they were given a gift of high quality genetics at birth, why not embrace it? Not everyone denies their blessings.”
An awkward silence passed between them. The conversations on this topic had ceased to be controversial, now they were just perpetually shorter.
“You act like you wish I wasn’t here.”
“Well, it would make my life a lot easier.” He stared at the screen.
“Sometimes I wish I’d just sucked up to my parents like Jeremy. Then I wouldn’t let you use me like you do.”
He stared directly at her, “You think I use you?”
“I know you do.”
She rose without looking at him and he watched her close the door behind her as she entered the bathroom.