Mrs. Kavanagh looked between us and then beamed. “He’s a terrible loser, isn’t he?” “I am fucking not!” “I know.” I giggled. “His father’s the same,” Mrs. Kavanagh added. “You should see him if he loses in court. No speaking for hours.” “Ma,” Johnny snapped. “Can you just leave us be? Please?” “I will,” she replied. “Once that poor girl has a warm shower and some dry clothes on her.” “She doesn’t want a—”
