I was finishing up the last of my homework late Sunday night when a knock on my bedroom door broke through my concentration.
Folding my copybook, I slid it into my Mathâs textbook and called out, âCome in.â
My bedroom door cracked open and my brotherâs head popped through the crack.
âWhatâs up, Joe?â I asked, shoving my books back into my schoolbag.
âIâm going to the shop,â my brother announced, taking a quick glance around my room before his eyes returned to my face. âDo you want anything?â
âWhereâs Aoife?â
âIn my room.â
âIs she staying over?â
âYeah.â
Aoife went to BCS and was in sixth year with Joey, so it wasnât uncommon for them to stay at each other houses on a school night and head to school together.
They were at the age where sleepovers were allowed.
Or at least, no one ever said a word to Joey when he brought a girl home.
There was a huge case of double standards in this house â a house that had been exceptionally quiet this weekend.
My father was in rare form.
He was behaving like a human.
He even bought us all takeaway Chinese last night and passed me the remote control rather than just flinging it at me like he usually did.
I wasnât naïve enough to believe that my fatherâs decision to not break up the house this weekend was because he had decided to turn over a new leaf.
No, I had been a member of this family long enough to recognize this quiet period as the calm before the storm.
He would erupt soon.
He always did.
I could only hope that I wasnât standing in the eye of the storm when it happened.
âDo you want something from the shop or not?â Joey asked, sounding impatient. âItâs closing soon.â
I glanced at the screen of my phone to check the time. 10:45pm. âWhy are you going to the shop so late?â I questioned. âWhat do you need thatâs so important?â
Joey grinned. âDo you want me to answer that honestly?â
âNo,â I groaned, fake gagging when awareness dawned on me. âGo away.â
âNight, Shan,â he chuckled, closing out my door.
âBe safe!â I called after him. âIâm too young to be an auntie!â
My phone vibrated against my thigh, alerting me to an incoming call from Claire.
âHello?â I said, pressing it to my ear.
âHey chick-a-bee,â she said happily. âWhat are you doing next weekend?â
Climbing off my bed, I hurried over to my door and turned the lock.
âNothing,â I replied. Like always. âWhy?â
âBecause, my dear friend, Gerard Gibson passed his theory test on Friday morning and some demented idiot at the tax office decided to give him a provisional driverâs license.â
âReally?â I laughed, thinking about Gibsie behind the wheel of a vehicle.
âOh yeah,â Claire sighed. âIâve just spent the last hour and a half trying to shove him out of my bedroom.â
âWhy was he in your room?â
âTo gloat,â she explained. âShaking his little green license around like he was king of the hill.â
âWhat does Gibsie getting his driving license have to do with next weekend?â
âHis parents bought him a car for his birthday last week,â she explained. âHe wants all of us to go for a spin with him.â
My brows shot up. âWhoâs all of us?â
âThe usual gang,â Claire replied breezily. âMe, Gerard, Hughie, Katie, Pierce, Lizzie, Patrick, Johnny, and you of course.â
My heart leapt at the sound of Johnnyâs name being mentioned.
And then it rocketed even further at the prospect of spending actual time with him.
âWhy me?â I managed to ask.
âDuh, because youâre our friend,â she replied.
I shook my head. âNo, Claire, Iâm your friend. Yours and Lizzieâs.â
âWell, Gerard told me to invite you along.â
âWhy?â I strangled out. âHe doesnât know me.â
âYou helped him with Brian?â
I shook my head. âThat doesnât make us friends.â
âWell, he knows youâre my best friend,â she explained. âWhich means any invitations I receive automatically extend to you, too.â
âWell, he canât fit all those people in one car.â
âThen maybe you can go in Johnnyâs car,â Claire shot back in a teasing tone. âBy the way, I saw you with him on the pitch Friday, you little flirt.â
âI was not flirting with him,â I practically spluttered. âHe came up to me.â
âBetter again,â she giggled. âHe was the one doing the flirting.â
âNobody was flirting,â I choked out. âWe were just ââ
âYou were just what?â Claire teased.
âTalking,â I filled in with a helpless shrug.
âAbout what?â
âI donât know,â I mumbled. âJust stuff, I guess?â
âAnd taking pictures together,â she added with a cackle. âI saw that, too.â
âOh god.â I groaned in defeat and flopped back on my pillow. âI was caught so off guard,â I croaked out. âYou should have heard me trying to talk to him,â I added, biting down on my lip. âI got tongue tied and literally bombed my way through the entire conversation, Claire. It was completely humiliating.â
âYou got tongue-tied because you like him,â she pressed.
Not bothering to deny it, I just sighed down the line.
âOh my god,â she gasped, tone excited. âAre you finally admitting you like him?â
I nodded and then realized she couldnât see me.
âI donât think thereâs any point in denying it,â I whispered, feeling my face burn at the thought. âI like him, Claire â I think I really like him.â
âOh wow, Shan,â Claire replied gently. âThis is big for you.â
She was right.
It was huge.
And scary.
Absolutely terrifying.
âItâs ridiculous,â I muttered glumly. âI donât even know him.â
âYeah, you do,â Claire argued.
âNot well,â I replied with a sigh.
âWell,â she mused. âIâve never met Johnny Depp in the flesh and that hasnât stopped me from falling madly in love with him.â
I rolled my eyes at her response. âYeah, because thatâs the same thing.â
âI have his phone number, you know,â Claire offered then. âI can give it to you and you could text him.â
My eyes widened. âAbsolutely not.â
âAre you sure?â
âPositive,â I strangled out. âThere is no way on godâs green earth where I could be the type of girl who does that.â Chewing on my lip, I quickly asked, âHow do you have his number?â
âGerard is always borrowing my phone,â she explained. â He is always calling Johnny when he uses my phone. Johnnyâs practically his Siamese twin. So, I stored Johnnyâs number under Call For Sex.â Snickering she added, âIt was so funny. Gerard was so mad with me â demanding to know who I was hooking up with and why it wasnât him listed under that name.â
âClaire, you canât tell anyone that I like him,â I blurted out, feeling panicky that I had let the cat out of the bag. âPlease. Not even Lizzie and especially not Gibsie.â
âI wonât, I promise,â she vowed. âBut if you did text him, I think youâd be pleasantly surprised,â she added. âI know Lizzie told you a bunch of stuff about him, but honestly, most of itâs just fabricated gossip. Johnnyâs not the guy all the girls at school paint him out to be.â
âYeah,â I whispered, âIâve already gathered that.â
He was better.
So much better.
âSo, will you come with us next weekend?â she asked.
âI wonât be allowed to go.â
âCome on, Shan, you canât just say no,â Claire whined. âNot without asking, at least?â
âI donât need to ask, Claire,â I croaked out. âI already know the ans
âThen donât ask him,â she quickly said. âJust make up an excuse or something and come over to mine. We donât even have to go with the lads.â
I sighed heavily. âClaire ââ
âWe can have dinner at my house,â she hurried to say. âAnd you know, if Johnny just happened to stop by, because of a rogue text message sent from my phone, then maybe you two could go up to my room and ââ
âStop it,â I warned her, shivering at the thought.
Claire laughed down the line. âIâm kidding.â
âYou better be,â I grumbled. âBecause I would die.â
âSo, do you want to do that?â she asked, smothering her laughter. âCome over to mine for a takeaway and a movie? Or we could go to the cinema? Or out to eat at a restaurant? Whatever you want,â she told me. âItâs your choice and my treat.â
âI love you for offering,â I told her, biting down on my lip to stop it from wobbling. âBut you know heâll never allow it.â
Claire sighed heavily. âShanâ¦â
âDonât,â I pleaded quietly. âPlease donât say anything.â
There was a long pause before she whispered, âI wonât.â
I sagged in relief. âThank you.â
âIâm here for you,â was all Claire replied in a sad tone of voice. âForever.â