During school holidays, I used to sneak out of the house the same way- out of the window in the spare bedroom, onto the garage roof, onto the bins then make a bid for freedom.

The girl has no luck at all when it comes to things like sneaking out, giving the occasional blowjob. Unfortunately for Fiona, I was sitting out on the front steps at the time engaging in my first ever cigarette kiss- with Joel, of course- and she got busted.
The front steps are in a perpetual shadow, so she didn't see us, and I was inclined to just let her go and ask about it in the morning, but Joel temporarily stepped in as babysitter- he seems to think I'm the worst possible choice my mother could have made, regarding keeping an eye on her kiddies while she swans about the motherland.
"Is that your sister?" he hissed at me quietly.
"Um. Yes. Do you think she looks like me?"
"I remember, you used to sneak out that way too. Has your mother never caught on?"

I was a lot more creative than Fi though; it's impossible to climb back into the house, so Saturday mornings would inevitably find me up and about at dawn, bringing in the milk/ eggs/ with a headache that meant I'd had to go for a walk- whatever, but I'd always have managed to lock myself out.
Looking back, I have no idea why she never twigged; normal people do not get dressed up in Saturday night gear (for a more accurate image, think underage clubber) at that hour of the morning.

He stood up and yelled after her, "Fiona! Get back here right now, missy. Where do you think you're going?"
Oh dear.
So back she came, sullen and muttering under her breath, but my attention was mostly caught by her outfit. "Blimey Fi. Are those my boots? And my dress as well?"
Whereas I think Joel was staring at the way it fit her, because he started laughing. "Do you have any idea what you look like?"

Now, I get mistaken for a prostitute fairly often- I'm not sure what it is about me, but there's something that makes posh hotels bar their doors to me- 'Miss, we dont have that sort of thing here.' That kind of thing.

So I jumped in, quickly. "Um. Darling, I'm not sure that dress--"
"What do you think?" She asked, twirling slightly.
"You look hot."
She preened.
"But you're a bit too.. well, maybe just a touch too big for that dress, sugar." She stopped preening abruptly.
"But if you want to go out, go ahead. I won't stop you."

Success! She didn't go.

-----------

And then this morning I met her boyfriend. He came to call for her while I was out flirting with the postman; which essentially means I had him all to myself for about half an hour- well, until Joel chimed in.
He stuck his head out the kitchen window and asked the poor boy what his intentions were. Fi's boyfriend looked blank- he clearly hasn't been reading enough staple English literature- so Joel expounded his theme. "What are your intentions, sir?" He asked again. "Will you behave honourably or... dishonourably?" His voice dropped to a dramatic hiss on that last word.

And then Fiona's bit of rough surprised me.

"Why, you mean I have a choice?"