Free Screw Loose by Chris Wheat Page B

disgusting. He snorted out loud.
    â€˜Don’t laugh,’ Chelsea ordered. ‘It’s called a midlife crisis.
    Adults can have them quite unexpectedly. One minute they’re your mum and dad, and the next minute they’re getting their navels pierced or going to Silverchair concerts. We must stop them.’
    She looked around. ‘I couldn’t live in a place like this. Not with chip packets on the coffee table and computer bits everywhere…’ Her nose turned up. ‘And bicycle wheels on the living room floor! Your father couldn’t live with me, either. I’m a control freak. He’d hate living with me. And I’d hate living with him.’
    â€˜What the … ! Who said you were going to live here?’ he cried.
    â€˜That’s where it’s leading, Craig. They’ll want to move in together, and that will wreck my life and yours. Think about it.
    Either I live here with you, or you live at my place. And you can’t possibly live at my place, even though I do quite like you – it was never meant to have more than one young adult living in it at any one time.’
    Craig couldn’t think of what to do or say.
    Chelsea sighed and looked around. ‘I would rather live in a caravan park than here. Don’t misunderstand me – I’m sure your father’s very sweet in his own way – but he’s an absolute bogan, if you don’t mind me being frank. I’m really not into Willie Nelson.’
    â€˜Shut up.’
    â€˜My mother used to have some self-respect.’
    â€˜My dad has never said nothing about your mum.’
    â€˜Never said anything about your mum. There’s another reason why I can’t live with you: your grammar.’
    â€˜Whatever. This ain’t going to happen, sister.’
    â€˜ Isn’t. But it will.’
    â€˜No way!’ Craig shouted.
    â€˜There is only one other option. My mother comes and lives here, and you live with me at my house.’
    â€˜What!?’
    Chelsea smiled. ‘I can see no problem living with you, Craig, despite your undisciplined approach to life. You can be improved – you have potential, so long as you give up that freaky tail-sniffing girlfriend of yours. I’m sure we could work out a way of getting on. And I suppose my house could stretch to cater to two young adults, so long as my mother vacated and Brenda stayed on. We have a housekeeper, you know, so cooking and cleaning are no problem. But I simply can’t live with your father.’
    Craig felt like he’d just lost a close basketball match – sort of stunned, buggered and depressed all at the same time.
    â€˜Swimming pool, sauna, housekeeper, good address. Me.
    Think about it.’
    Craig put his head in his hands. His girlfriend had told everyone he had a big tongue, and now this freakoid was suggesting he live with her?
    â€˜NO WAY!’ he shouted again.
    â€˜Okay then.’ She put up her hands. ‘But desperate times require desperate measures.’
    â€˜Get out.’
    â€˜Listen, Craig, this is serious. Our parents cannot be allowed to live with one another. So I’ve told my mother you have Tourette syndrome.’
    He looked up. ‘What’s that?’
    â€˜It’s where you have an uncontrollable need to scream obscenities in public places.’
    â€˜You’re sad.’
    â€˜I told her you’re always yelling out filthy things in class. So all you have to do is come over to my place and scream something incredibly obscene in front of my mother, and she’ll dump your father, and life will go back to normal.’
    Craig shook his head and, despite himself, started to laugh.
    â€˜Sorry, Chelsea. No way. You’re a nutcase, babe.’
    â€˜Don’t call me babe, Craig. If you don’t agree to that then I’m introducing Plan B.’
    â€˜What’s Plan B?’
    â€˜I tell my mother you got me