“Lola?”  

Lola looked up from her magazine. Samuel lay on his back on the other side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Lola waited for the boy to continue, but he stayed quiet. Which was funny because Samuel was never quiet.

“Yeah?” Lola prompted.

“Which one is the gay ear?”

“What?”

“I want to get an earring. Which is the gay one?”

“Do people do that anymore?” Lola asked doubtfully. Samuel turned to his side and finally looked at Lola. He frowned as if honestly concerned.

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, how about you pierce both?”

“Will you do it?”

“Sure.”

Samuel picked up his lighter and Lola dug out a needle from a dust-covered box of sewing supplies. What had her mother thought when she had sent her that? Lola had never sewn as much as a button back on a shirt. At least some use was finally coming out of the box. She would have to tell her mother about Samuel’s ears the next time she’d call.

They moved to the bathroom and Samuel took a seat on the toilet. Lola disinfected the needle with the lighter, cooled it down under the tap and then brought it to Samuel’s ear. The boy winced when the needle pierced the flesh, but didn’t complain which was also new. Lola moved onto the other ear and then helped Samuel put a pair of her earrings through the bleeding holes. The boy admired the piercings in the mirror with a nervous grin. Then his face turned serious.

“Lola?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you believe in heaven and hell?”

“I’m not sure,” Lola said, caught off guard. She washed the needle and dried it on her shirt. Samuel watched her intently. “No, I guess.”

“Alright.”

They returned to their shared bedroom. Lola placed the needle carefully back into the box and put it away with other things that her mother had mailed her after she’d left. Her old teddy bear, a dress she hated, books she would never read, all gathering dust and taking up space in the already clustered room. Lola got back on the bed and continued with her magazine. Samuel sat down next to her and started reading the articles over her shoulder. He mouthed the words as he read which was extremely annoying.

“So, what do you think happens after death?” Samuel suddenly asked, breaking Lola’s focus on a tabloid about the royal family.

“Sam, I don’t really care,” she sighed.

“Alright.”

It had been two years since they had ran away to London after the others. Lola had visited home every now and then, but Samuel barely even called his family. Not that Lola really blamed him. His mother had died when he was six, leaving behind a grieving husband and four sons. Samuel had always been the runt of the family. Tall and skinny, he nowadays towered over his brothers, but he was also the youngest and the weirdest. Television had been his only friend for years. Why would he call back home when there was nothing to talk about?

“Who’s that?” Samuel asked and pointed at a photo in the magazine.

“I don’t know. Read the caption.”

Lola was the youngest, too. She could never live up to her sister and brother, but she didn’t have to. Everything she did was a wonder in her mother’s eyes. Lola’s excitement over the triumphant escape from the small town hell had been snuffed out with her mother’s “I’m so proud of you!” over the phone. Her father had given more of a satisfactory fight, but even that had ended far too quickly. So now Lola was the black sheep of the black sheep. Supported and loved by her family. How embarrassing.

“Who’s that?”

“Shut up, Sam.”

It wasn’t that Samuel’s father and brothers didn’t love him, though. They just didn’t know how to. Samuel and Lola had both come out on the same evening, agreed upon weeks beforehand, and both had initially been kicked out. And both had been taken back in. But while Lola’s parents made awkward questions about the issue, Samuel’s family ignored that anything had been discussed at all. And so Samuel had been as he had always been at his house. Invisible. Just there. A roof over his head and a warm meal in front of him twice a day, occasional half-hugs and quick pats on the back. It was more than a lot of other kids like him in small towns might get and it was enough for a long time. Until it wasn’t.

Lola finished the magazine and threw it on the floor. Samuel didn’t even pretend to be offended with her littering the room. There was no surface in it that wasn’t filled with shit. But the mess had been created between them perfectly equally.

Lola pulled out another magazine. Samuel rested his chin on her shoulder. This time he actually read the articles out loud. His nasal, whiny voice made the celebrity gossips even juicier. When he started imitating the people interviewed Lola actually laughed out loud. This encouraged Samuel to get weirder with his voices which in turn made Lola laugh harder.

“C’mon, it’s not that funny,” Samuel said and started laughing himself.

“Let me try,” Lola said and the two of them shared the rest of the interview.

“’And that’s why I don’t believe in birth control’,” Samuel finished with a high-pitched tone and Lola laughed so hard she fell off the bed.

“Ow,” she muttered as she landed on the ashtray and an assortment of books left by Samuel’s ex.

“Hey, Lola?”

“Yeah?”

“Dad is in the hospital.”

“Oh.”

“I think it’s serious.”

“Oh.”

Lola didn’t move from her spot on the floor. The books dug painfully into her back and butt and she knew her back was covered in cigarette ashes. She heard shuffling from the bed and Samuel’s face appeared above her.

“I’m going home this weekend. You wanna come?”

“Sure.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

Samuel cleaned up the ashes from the floor while Lola changed into a clean shirt. They climbed back onto the bed and continued reading together. Samuel kept on touching the earrings on his newly pierced ears.

Later that day Lola called her mother to let her know she would be visiting. She told her about Samuel’s new earrings and his father and that Lola had finally had use for the sewing tools her mother had sent her.