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I had to make my family love me. If I didn’t, they were going to send me away.
“Fleetwood Mac,” I said proudly before pointing at the stereo. “And that’s their album called Rumours.” She played it all the time and I knew the words of the songs better than the prayers I learned at school.
Caoimhe’s smile grew bigger. “And what’s my favorite song?” “‘Landslide.’” “And Mam’s?” “‘The Chain.’” “And what’s yours?” “‘Silver Springs.’”
Like Daddy. He was always sad when he looked at me, and that didn’t feel good. Not good at all.
“What’s a lunatic?” “Someone who’s crazy and hears voices.” Caoimhe sighed. “That’s why Grandad drowned in the river when Dad was a kid. The voices told him to jump in.”
“Okay.” He sat on my bed and placed his hand on my leg. “I’m going to need you to take off your nightie for this, munchkin.” He smiled. “It’s how boys and girls do the special hug. We have to take all of our clothes off.”
Sick
“Are ye listening, ye little hoors from hell?” Old Murphy continued to threaten, sounding closer now. “When I get my hands on the pair of you, I’ll wring your necks. Especially the fat one!” Now, I was the one to cover my mouth to smother my laughter while Gibsie scowled in outrage. “That fucker.”
“You use it for storage, don’t ya, son?” “That was one time, Dad,” Gibsie argued back. “And one bead.” “It was four beads,” I corrected with a laugh, remembering the incident during arts and crafts at school last week. “And you had to go to the hospital to have them removed.” “I wanted to see how many would fit,” he defended. “Is that so bad?”
My thoughts were nice and slow. It always happened when I sat next to Shannon Lynch. It made me want to sit with her forever.
“She called Shannon a scab,” Claire blurted out, tugging on the sleeve of Joey’s white school shirt. “And she pushed her, too.” “Oh, did she now?” Joey replied, keeping his eyes locked on Loretta. “That was a mistake, wasn’t it, Loretta?” “I’m not afraid of you,” she replied, but she backed up several steps. “You’re a scumbag.” “Yeah,” Joey agreed with a dangerous chuckle, closing the space she put between them. “But I’m a scumbag that’ll tear your fucking world apart if you touch my sister again.”
I used to think my sister had the lightest blond hair I’d ever seen, but this girl’s hair was white. Like snow white. Her skin was so pale it was almost see-through, like one of Claire’s porcelain dolls. She didn’t have a single freckle on her face, either. Not even one. And her blue eyes, the ones locked on my face? Well, I had never seen eyes like that before.
She sort of resembled a ghost. Or an angel. Something different. Something special.
Everything about this girl was different, but it was her eyes that really caught my attention. They were so light, they looked like pale-blue icicles with jagged lightning bolts of gray darting through them.
Because they didn’t know what I did. They didn’t have the strangest girl in Ballylaggin coming to their birthday party. My eyes locked on hers from across the bus and I smiled. Or the prettiest.
“Then it’s official,” Hugh said, turning to smile at me. “You’re one of us now.” “I am?” “That means we keep each other’s secrets and stick together, no matter what.” My heart leapt. “No matter what?” “Yeah, Liz.” Hugh smiled. “No matter what.”
“So your sister told me something today and I’m not happy about it.” “What?” “Caoimhe said you slept at a boy’s house last night.” “Hugh.” I felt myself smile. “He’s really nice.” “Hmm.” Mark didn’t look happy. “I don’t know how I feel about you cheating on me, munchkin.”
“What would you have done if I didn’t swim back for you?” “I knew you would,” I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck as he swam us over to the shallow part. “Oh yeah?” he teased, releasing me when I could stand. “How?” “Because I trust you,” I told him. “You make me feel safe.” That seemed to confuse him because his brows furrowed together. “You’ll always be safe with me.” “I know.” I splashed him with my hand. “No matter what, right?” “Yeah, Liz,” Hugh chuckled, splashing me back. “No matter what.”
I’d met Mark a few times and Gibs wasn’t lying when he said the guy was a creep. He thought he was so much tougher and cooler than us because he was a teenager, when in fact, all he was better at doing was being a fucking creep. “I hate that guy!”
“Jesus, Mam, you look beautiful,” I told her, eyeing the tight, sparkly red dress she had on. “You’re way skinnier than I thought you were.” “Why thank you, son,” Mam chuckled, squeezing my cheek. “What a little charmer you are.”
Grinning, she leaned her hip against the island and dried her hands with the tea towel. “Among other things.” “Like what?” I blurted out, trying and failing to play it cool. “I mean, uh, she said stuff about me?” “Aw, look at you blushing over my sister,” Caoimhe crooned. “This is too cute.” “Hugh’s in love,” Claire chimed in then. “He wants to smooch your sister.”
“Like what’s her favorite color, and does she like dinosaurs, and who’s her favorite author, and does she talk about him at school,” my sister replied with a snicker. “He even draws her pictures, and writes little notes, and makes me bring them to school for her.”
“Yeah, Gibsie’s a child,” I told her. “Mark’s a bully.” “A bully to who?” “Gibsie.” Caoimhe’s eyes met mine and I could see that she didn’t believe me. “You’re wrong about him. Mark’s really great once you get to know him.”
When I reached the lounge and locked eyes on the familiar, dark-haired teenage boy sitting on my couch, with my sister on his lap, a wave of unease washed over me. I couldn’t explain why I felt so uncomfortable or why the hairs on the back of my neck shot up whenever I laid eyes on him. But it always happened. I felt like Peter Parker with Spidey senses, and mine told me that Mark Allen was not good. Not good at all.
“I’m the oldest of the four of us, so I’m used to the noise, but I don’t like it.” My brows furrowed in confusion. “But there’s only two of you.” “Gibsie’s basically the middle child, and Beth’s the baby.” Lips twitching into a small smile, he added, “He’s practically my brother.”
I pointed to the watch on his wrist. “Happy New Year.” Hugh stared down at the face of his watch for a long moment before turning his attention back to me. And then, with red cheeks, he leaned in close and kissed my cheek. “Happy New Year, Liz.”
“Listen, I’m doing homework in my room, but you can come with me and sleep in my bed if you want?” he offered after a long silence. “Claire and Shannon are out back in the treehouse, so they won’t mind.” “You can sleep in my bed…” I knew what that meant. But it was okay. Because I loved Hugh Biggs. My heart was sure I did. And Hugh would never hurt me like he did. Nodding, I took the hand he offered me and climbed out of the tub. Keeping a firm hold of his hand, I soaked in the warmth as he led me into his room. It would be okay. Because he was kind. He wouldn’t make me cry. He wouldn’t make
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Mark didn’t fix me this time. Hugh did. And he didn’t have to hurt me to do it…
“My baby! My baby’s in there! We can’t leave her!” “Gerard’s going to die if we don’t get him help,” Keith argued back. “We have to go, Sadhbh, love.” “He’s already dead.” “Shut up, Mark.”
I felt more gratitude for Claire in this moment than I ever had in the five years since she’d arrived into my world. Because she was here, on this boat, with her heart beating.
In that moment, I vowed to never sit back and do nothing. I would never be a statue like Mark or incapable like Sadhbh and Keith. For the rest of my life, I would help. I would save people. I would bring them back to life. Like my father brought Gibs back from his watery grave. Like my mother brought his heart back to life.
“That’s exactly what this year is for us,” I told her. “1995 is our annus horribilis.” “You know what, son? I think you might be too clever for your own good,” Mam mused, hanging a plastic skeleton from the ceiling. “I doubt there’s another mother in Ballylaggin whose child quotes Latin.” I shrugged, too pissed off and sad to appreciate the compliment.
“I want to be a cardiologist.” “And that’s a heart surgeon, right?” “Yep.” I pulled up on my elbows to get a better look at him. “Why?” “Because there’s too many broken hearts around here.” My eyes widened. “In Ballylaggin?” He peered over his book at me and smirked. “In the world, Liz.”
“What about my heart?” He laughed softly. “Your heart works just fine.” “But what if it breaks?” “That won’t happen.” “How come?” He turned another page before saying, “Because I won’t break it.”
I wanted to throw myself out of the treehouse and hit my head fifty times on the way down because I would rather be dead than do something bad to Hugh.
“Get out of my room, Danny,” I ordered, pointing to my door. “Now.” “Hughie and Lizzie up a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” he snickered, while obliging me by moving for the door. “First comes love, second comes marriage, third comes a baby Biggsie in a golden car—” I closed the door on his face before he could finish. “Do you want to know a secret?” I asked, walking Liz over to my bed. “I can’t stand that guy.”
There would be a million more parties, but there would only ever be one Lizzie Young.
“Ahh,” Liz continued to howl laughing. “He looks like Thor with his hammer!” “Did you hear that, Gibs?” Feely called out with a chuckle. “Lizzie thinks you look like a superhero!” Grinning wolfishly up at us, Gibsie winked and immediately starting flexing his nonexistent biceps. “Oh yeah,” Liz encouraged, cheering him on. “Show us those guns, Thor.”
“Yep,” he agreed, draping his arm over my shoulders. “And in twenty years’ time, when we come back here to visit, we can show this to our kids.” “So you are going to marry me,” I teased, elbowing his side. “I thought I already told you I would,” he replied, sounding confused.
“Lizzie is not a witch,” Claire corrected, sounding outraged. “She is Morticia Addams.” “And let me guess; your brother is Gomez.” “That’s right, and we already have a friend going as Lurch, so you should stop making your face look so stupid.”
“Look at the state of you,” Mark snapped, glowering at my friend. “What the fuck kind of costume is that?” “He’s an egg,” Claire defended, making a beeline for Gerard. “And I’m a chicken.” “He’s a dickhead is what he is,” Mark muttered. “Leave him alone,” Caoimhe admonished, elbowing his side when she joined him on the couch. “He’s only a child.” Gibsie’s eyes flicked to Mark before focusing on Claire. “Are you okay?”
“Yep.” Smiling, I reached up and brushed a tear from his cheek. “I’m always okay, Gibs.”
My opportunity arrived near the end of the day, when Ciara Maloney hit Shannon on the back with a blackboard duster, and I, in turn, hit Ciara in the face with my fist.
“At least you fuckers get to wear pants,” Gibs huffed, wobbling into the living room in knee-high, red-leather platform boots and a ginger wig. “And if you think toilet-roll tits are bad, try having balloon tits!” “Because Ginger Spice has the biggest boobs,” my sister called over her shoulder as she readjusted my tits. “And I already explained the dress situation. Hugh’s and Patrick’s legs are too hairy.” “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult,” Gibs mused, scratching his chin.
“Gibsie, no!” Laughing hysterically, Liz pushed at his chest when he started making engine noises. “Don’t you dare—ahh!” “Brmm, brmm, brmm,” he snickered, making engine noises as he slowly lowered his ass onto her face and let out the vilest ripper of a fart. “Merry Christmas!” “Ahh! I can taste it,” Liz screamed. “I can taste beans on my tongue!”
“Found it at work,” he explained, holding the Discman up. “Boss was chucking it.” He shrugged before adding, “Just in case ya assumed I lifted it.” “Why would I think you stole it?” He shrugged but didn’t respond.
“I don’t need anyone.” Now he did smile. “I figured.” “What’s so funny?” “You,” he replied. “You remind me of someone I used to know.” “Who?” “My younger self,” he surprised me by saying,
“I did that for Shannon,” I explained. “Besides, you don’t even like me.” “I don’t have to like you in order to help you,” he explained calmly, taking another drag of cigarette. “I just have to help.” “Just like that.” “Just like that, kid.”
When I reached his front porch after school and tried to let myself inside like I’d done every day since I’d learned how to walk, I was met with resistance. The door was locked. Since when did we use locks?
Mark Allen had a god complex and couldn’t stand that someone younger than him could trump him intellectually. That someone was me, and I took great pleasure in kicking the shit out of him with my mind.
I was trying to work out, asshole!” “Hopefully your brain,” I shot back dryly, trying not to heave at the sight of the creature. “Because, evidently, your rectus abdominus are a lost cause.” “Hold up.” He narrowed his eyes. “What did you say about rectum?” I smirked, feeling amused. “Case in point.”
