Annabelle shook her head quickly.

"What the hell does it matter to you? He's not your boyfriend, it's not your relationship, it's not your life…" Annabelle glowered at Grace, her eyes were squinting. Clearly she was grumpy. She had a storming headache, no doubt.

"In fact," Annabelle was doubling down now. "Why don't you get a life?" She grimaced. "You've always been jealous of Dan. It's not my fault that I'm the popular one…"

Grace spun towards Annabelle angrily, she was spitting in rage.

"Don't you…"

"Morning ladies," a calm voice interrupted the volatile mood of the kitchen. "How is everyone?" Their mother asked the young ladies.

They both looked at her, their emotions cooling slightly.

"No need for raised voices on a Sunday morning is there?" Their mum said coolly.

"How was your night out Annabelle?" Their mum asked, grabbing some milk from the fridge.

"Yeah good thanks,"

"Too good," Grace mumbled as she tipped the cereal into her bowl. Annabelle shot her a warning look.

"You're looking a bit worse for wear darling," their mum commented as she passed the milk to Grace.

Grace smirked, Annabelle glowered.

"The price of having fun and having a life," Annabelle bit out towards Grace.

"Now, no need to be a bully. I thought you two had grown out of this by now, you're adults, come on, please can you just get along." She sat down next to Grace with a bowl and poured some cereal in.

"I'm nice, she's always just showing off and rubbing it in my face," Grace protested as she poured milk into her bowl and passed it to her mother.

"Can we not do this now?" Annabelle covered her face in her hands. "It's not my fault you're an utter loser…"

"Now, that's not fair Annabelle, you apologise right now. Why can't you just be patient and nice with your sister? I've told you before I would have killed to have a sister when I was younger. You're supposed to have each other's backs… you're supposed to be best friends."

She poured milk in her bowl.

"Your constant bickering is starting to wear a bit thin…" she looked at each of them.

Grace crossed her arms across her chest. Annabelle had her head in her hands.

There was silence in the room. Their mother waited patiently. She had needed to be, bringing up two daughters on her own.

"I'm waiting…" their mum, Deborah, crossed her own arms. "I can wait all day…"

"Fine, sorry," Annabelle growled through her fingers. "Are we done now?"

Grace glowered at her.

She looked back to their mum, who slid a spoon into the cereal and slid it under the milky surface and lifted it up and inserted it into her mouth.

Milk dripped from the spoon and trickled down her chin as she crunched on the cereal.

Their mum then opened a magazine and started to read.

Grace looked back at Annabelle, her mind drifting with her imagination, which was where she usually went in moments like this.