GROOMED to within an inch of my life, and with three quarters of a bottle of Prosecco in my system, I leaned back on the couch in Katie’s boyfriend’s living room, feeling like I had taken a trip back in time.
Whoever was on the decks clearly had a hard on for 90’s music, because Bloodhound Gang’s The Bad Touch was just the latest in a long list of songs from the previous decade.
Feeling buzzed, I watched as Casey backed her ass up against some dark- haired boy from Tommen and feigned a stagger.
I rolled my eyes when he grabbed her hips to steady her, which was exactly what she wanted.
She was so predictable.
“Thanks,” Casey said, beaming up at him. “No problem.”
“What’s your name?” she asked, stepping closer.
“Patrick,” he told her, offering her a shy smile. “What’s yours?”
Run, Patrick, run, I felt like shouting, she’s going to eat you alive, you poor, innocent fool.
“I’m Casey.” With one hand curled around his neck, she fisted his shirt with the other and tugged his big body close against her. “So, Patrick.” Trailing her hand from his neck to his cheek, she pulled his face down to hers and beamed up at him. “What year are you in?”
“Fifth year, you?” “Sixth year.”
“At BCS?”
“Uh-huh. Do you play rugby, Patrick?” He nodded. “I’m an inside center.”
“Excellent.”
Yeah, my best friend was the meaning behind that small but fierce saying. She needed a wing woman like a fish needed rollerblades.
“That’s Patrick Feely,” Katie explained in my ear. “He’s good friends
with Hugh.”
“And that’s Hugh’s younger sister, right?” I asked, pointing out the stunning blonde with a head of to-die-for curls, who was sitting on the couch opposite us, dressed as Baby Spice.
I watched, completely invested in the animated conversation she was having with an equally beautiful blond boy dressed like a Malibu Ken doll I used to own back in the day. They were all smiles and hands flailing as they talked and laughed and touched each other.
“Yeah, that’s Claire,” Katie replied. “She’s probably one of the sweetest girls that you’ll ever meet.”
I narrowed my eyes as recognition flickered through me. “Wait a minute.
I think I know that guy she’s talking to.”
“Everybody knows Gerard Gibson,” Katie chuckled. “He offered Joey a condom in Biddies once.”
“Sounds very Gibsie-like.” Katie bit back a laugh. “He’s, uh, well, let’s
just say that he’s one of a kind. He sort of lives in his own world.”
B*Witched’s C’est la Vie started to play and I swear to God, this Gibsie boy all but levitated from the couch with excitement, dragging Claire along with him.
“She clearly lives in that world with him,” I mused, feeling myself smile for the first time in weeks, as I watched them.
Bopping around and throwing shapes like nobody was watching, Gibsie and Claire danced around the living room to what was clearly their jam. Him spinning her out and then pulling her back to his chest as they stumble- waltzed to the music.
“I’m guessing they’ve been together since forever, am I right?” “They’re actually not together at all.”
“Bullshit.” I pointed to where they had moved to the middle of the makeshift dance floor. “Look at that boy. He’s clearly besotted with her, and she’s staring at him all gooey-eyed like he hung the moon.” I shook my head. “Nah, K, they’re clearly doing the deed.”
“I swear,” Katie laughed. “They’re really not.”
I cocked a disbelieving brow as I watched them break into an impressive Irish dancing set jig. Completely in sync with each other’s bodies, and with
their entire focus on the other, they laughed and danced it out to the beat, uncaring that a huge portion of their schoolmates were watching them.
“No way,” I choked out a laugh. “Boy moves like lord of the dance.”
“Pretty sure his mam made him take Irish dancing lessons in primary school,” Katie giggled. “There’s a bunch of medals on display in the cabinet in Hugh’s front room from Feis competitions that they competed in.”
“Who? Gibsie and Claire?” She nodded.
“Aw, they danced together?”
“Uh-huh.” Katie laughed. “Until he hung his dancing shoes up for rugby boots.”
“You’re honestly trying to tell me that those two aren’t in love?”
“I never said they weren’t in love.” Chuckling, she added, “Only that they’re not together.”
“Hm.” I eyed them, entirely unconvinced that they weren’t. “Well, they look gorgeous together. And I love the color of her hair,” I added, secretly envious. “Those curls are amazing.”
“The color and curls are totally natural,” Katie offered, sounding just as wistful as I felt. “Hugh’s hair is the same.”
“Joey has curls, too, but he keeps them chopped off. He always keeps the sides and back of his head shaved tight, and leaves a bit more on top, but if he doesn’t cut his hair for a few weeks, it grows all wild and curly on top like Seany-boo’s. It’s so adorable,” I heard myself say, and then scrunched my nose in despair. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Aoif,” she replied softly. “I’m honestly surprised you came tonight. I know Casey practically dragged you out, but I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t come.” Releasing a heavy sigh, she hooked her arm through mine and said, “I know you’ve been in love with him since forever, and feelings don’t switch off overnight, so if this gets too much for you, or you want to go home at any time, you just say, and I’ll get one of Hugh’s friends to drive you.”
“Thanks, Katie,” I replied, resting my cheek on her shoulder. “So, they’re really not together?” I asked, inclining my chin to where Gibsie and Claire now resembled something straight out of a Gene Simmons tribute act, as they jammed it out to Robbie Williams and Kylie Minogue’s Kids.
He was strewn out on the flat of his back, singing to his heart’s content into his imaginary microphone, while she straddled his hips and joined him.
“Uh-oh,” Katie snickered, watching as her boyfriend came thundering towards them. “Hughie’s going to freak.”
Holding a hand up to warn her brother off, Claire continued to bop her head and drum one-handedly to the music, while Gibsie folded his arms behind his head and grinned sheepishly up at her brother.
“Oh crap,” Katie groaned then, dragging my attention back to her.
“What?” I asked. “He’s hardly going to lose it over his sister dancing with his buddy.”
“Not him,” Katie strangled out, pointing towards the doorway that led to the kitchen. “Him.”
Craning my neck, I followed her line of sight, only for every muscle in my body to lock tight when my eyes landed on Joey.
“Oh my god.” The air escaped my lungs in a breathy rush and I quickly jerked my gaze away. “What’s he doing here?” Panic-stricken, I looked to my friend for help. “Katie, what is he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” she choked out, shaking her head. “I have no idea.”
“Oh, Jesus.” Dropping my head in my hands, I groaned loudly, while my stomach twisted up in knots and my knees started to bop nervously. “You said he wouldn’t be here.”
“He shouldn’t be,” she protested. “I know that Claire is friends with his sister, but I didn’t think that he and Hugh were friends.”
“Oh my god.” My stomach churned and I felt faint. “I need to get out of here.”
“No, you don’t have to,” she hurried to soothe, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “It’s okay. Just calm down and take a breath.”
It was at this exact moment that Casey burst through the crowd, squealing, “He’s here, he’s here, oh my Jesus, he’s here!”
“Does he look okay?” I heard myself strangle out, peeking between my hands at my friends. “Is he fighting?” My heart seized in my chest and I forced out the words, “Is he high?”
“I’m not sure,” Casey replied, voice slurred. “He’s definitely not fighting, but he’s too far away to tell if he’s buzzed or not.” She craned her neck to see better and, a few seconds later, let out a furious growl. “So, apparently Dolly was wrong when she said Jolene was a redhead.” Inclining her head towards the kitchen, she hissed, “It turns out she’s a blonde with a death wish.”
“Oh god,” Katie groaned, sounding queasy. “Please tell me he isn’t?”
Heart hammering violently in my chest, I forced myself to inhale a few steadying breaths before daring to glance in his direction again.
Dressed in dark jeans, and a fitted navy shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Joey leaned against the kitchen island.
With his arms folded across his chest, he stared down at the floor, looking mildly amused, as the blonde, who was sitting on the island beside him, swung her feet back and forth as she talked to him.
Pain.
It hit me so hard and fast that I honestly thought I would crack down the center.
“Oh no, guys, that’s only Lizzie,” Katie was quick to point out. “She’s in third year at Tommen. She’s best friends with Claire.”
“Maybe for now,” Casey corrected hotly. “Soon, she’ll just be known as the girl I went to prison for killing.”
“You’re drunk, Casey. Put your claws away,” Katie snapped, before turning her attention back to me. “She’s probably friends with his sister, too, and that’s why he’s talking to her,” she offered calmly. “They’re only talking, Aoif. It looks completely innocent.”
“Oh, please,” Casey slurred, swatting the air like it had offended her. “Don’t be so naïve, Katie. There’s nothing innocent about that Mischa Barton wannabe.”
“I know you have nothing but good intentions, but right now, you’re causing more harm than good,” Katie grumbled. “Aoife doesn’t need this. She doesn’t need to hear your inner running commentary, Case.”
“Maybe she doesn’t,” Casey declared before bounding off in the direction of the kitchen. “But he’s going to.”
“Oh, this is so bad, Katie.” Jerking unsteadily to my feet, I pressed my fingers to my temples and watched in horror as Casey rounded on Joey in the kitchen. “You know what she gets like. She can be a messy drunk at the best of times.”
“Then you need to go over there.”
“I can’t,” I choked out, feeling starved for oxygen at the prospect of having to face him again. “I’m not nearly drunk enough to jump back in the ring with him.”
“You have to,” she urged, pushing me towards the doorway. “They’re arguing over you. You need to get in there and diffuse it.”
“No.”
“You go and get Casey, and I’ll find Patrick Feely. He’s not drinking tonight, so he’ll give you guys a spin home.”
“I can’t go over there.”
“You don’t have a choice.” “No.”
“Yes, Aoife.
“Okay, okay, fine!” Exhaling a ragged breath, I shook my hands out and sucked in a deep, calming breath, before forcing myself to walk into the kitchen to face him.
