OCTOBER 28, 1994
“ARE YOU NEARLY READY?” CLAIRE CALLED OUT FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BATHroom door. “We’re going to miss the bus home. It’s leaving early, remember? Teacher said twelve o’clock on the dot.”
“I’m coming,” I called back while I stepped out of my knickers and balled them up. I didn’t want to get in trouble again, and that’s what would happen if the grown-ups knew I had an accident. Worried, I looked for the bin, and once I found it, I shoved the cotton fabric to the bottom, covering it up with toilet paper.
Flushing the toilet, I unlocked the door and rushed to the sink to wash my hands, calling out the word sorry to my friend as I moved. “I had to go really bad.”
“That’s okay,” Claire replied, still holding my bag for me. “Don’t forget the soap.”
“I won’t,” I replied, pouring a dollop onto my palm. “Hey, do you ever wee red stuff?”
“Ew, no!” Her brown eyes widened to saucers. “Do you?”
“Sometimes.” I focused on washing the suds off my hands. “When it’s stingy.”
“You get stingy wees?”
Nodding, I moved for the towel and dried my hands. “Do you?”
Claire shook her head. “Nope.”
“Oh.” Smiling, I snatched my bag up and weaved my arms through the straps. “Ready.”
Giggling, we broke into a sprint to see who would get to the school gate first. Claire was tall like me, with long legs to make her run faster, but I still touched the gate before her.
“You’re a rocket,” she laughed when she caught up with me. “Like a super-superfast rocket.”
“You’re both rockets,” Shannon offered, as she waited among the crowd of other children waiting outside the gates of the school for their bus. “I can’t run as fast as either one of you.”
“Oh sugar!” Claire exclaimed loudly. “I almost forgot.” Digging inside her schoolbag, she retrieved an envelope and handed it to Shannon before quickly turning to look at me. “You’re getting one later, I promise.”
“I am?” I asked, feeling a wave of excitement wash through me. I had no idea what it meant, but I was happy to be included.
“It’s a birthday invitation.”
“But your birthday is in August,” Shannon and I both said in unison.
“My brother’s birthday,” Claire explained, scrunching her nose up. “He’s stinky and super annoying, but he’s okay, I guess.”
“Okay,” I chuckled, while Shannon pocketed the envelope without opening it.
“So can you come?”
I said yes at the same time Shannon said no.
Claire started to smile and say yay, before it morphed into a sad, “How come?”
Shannon shifted from foot to foot, looking uncertain, but didn’t answer. “I’m not allowed to go to birthday parties?”
“Why not?” we both asked.
“Because she’s a scab,” one of the fourth-class girls sneered before roughly shoving Shannon out of her way. “Now, move, scabby.”
“Hey!” Claire huffed, placing a steadying hand on our friend’s shoulder when she staggered from the force of the bigger girl’s push. “That was mean.”
“Oh, was it?” the dark-haired girl mocked in a mean tone. “Why don’t you go and cry about it, curly sue.”
“Her name is Claire,” I growled, feeling my body tremble with anger as I moved to stand with my friends. “So why don’t you fuck off!”
Everyone around us gasped.
“Holy shit,” one of the bigger boys snickered, while more laughed and pointed.
“You cursed,” Claire whisper-hissed in my ear. “You said the f-word, Liz.”
“Yeah, I did,” I agreed, deciding to stand my ground, even when a crowd formed around us. We were outside of school, but even if someone told a teacher on me, I didn’t care. I was used to having grown-ups shout at me. I was used to disappointing people. “I can say worse,” I added, scowling up at the bully. “I can do worse, too.”
“You live over on Avoca Greystones, right?” a different girl asked Claire.
“Yeah,” Claire replied, nodding warily. “So?”
“So those are really nice houses,” the girl replied. “Why would you invite a Lynch to your house?”
Everyone around us started to laugh.
Shannon’s eyes started to fill with tears.
“Because she’s my friend,” Claire defended, grabbing Shannon’s hand. “That’s why.”
“Yeah, well, if I were you, I wouldn’t let that scab inside your front door.” The girl flicked her ponytail over her shoulder before adding, “You do know she’s from Elk’s Terrace, don’t ya? She’ll probably rob your family blind the minute your backs are turned.”
“I also heard she has nits,” the original bully chimed in. “So you girls might want to think about that before standing so close to her. You don’t want head lice, do you?”
“Why don’t you shut the hell up,” I screamed, rushing forward and shoving the girl as hard as I could.
Instead of pushing me back, the girl laughed in my face. All her friends laughed, too. Because they were bigger than us. That made me even madder.
I couldn’t control the anger building up inside of me, and what’s more, I didn’t want to. Shannon was a good friend to me. Being around her helped me keep my mind clear and get my voice out. It didn’t matter to me where she lived. She was kind and sweet and made me feel safe. I wanted to scratch these girls’ eyes out. I wanted to make them bleed, make them pay for hurting my friend.
“Lizzie, don’t,” Shannon pleaded, wrapping her small hand around mine. “Let’s just walk over here and wait for your bus.”
“Yeah, Lizzie,” the bully sneered. “Listen to scabby Shannon who can’t take the bus because her scabby parents are too poor to pay for it.”
The kids around us all started to laugh, and it made me shake with anger. “Take it back,” I warned, breaking free from my friends and balling my hands into fists at my sides. “Take back what you said right now!”
“Or what?” she goaded, leaning down to smirk in my face. “What are you going to do, looney tune?”
“Heads up!” I heard a boy call out moments before the bully staggered away from us.
“Omigod!” Gripping her head, the girl started to scream like a banshee. “My head, my head!”
Shocked, I turned to see Joey Lynch coming down the steps that led from the pitch to the school gates with a hurley slung over his shoulder.
Shannon’s big brother was only in second class, but the older boys still moved out of his way. Because they were afraid of him. Because he got into a lot of fights at school. Even more than me.
“I said heads up.” Joey yanked the school gate open with such force that it clattered against the wall. He didn’t need to shove through the crowd to get to his sister; everyone scampered out of his way. “It’s not my problem if you’re deaf.”
“Maybe you should have better aim,” the bully wailed, still holding her head, while the friends that had been with her all rushed for the bus pulling up.
“Maybe you shouldn’t stand so close to my baby sister,” Joey replied, purposefully stepping in front of us and blocking her from view.
“You really hurt me, Joey Lynch,” the girl continued to wail, full-on crying now. “I’m telling my brother on you.”
“I never laid a finger on ya, Loretta Crowley,” he replied with a careless shrug. “But go right ahead and tell your whole fucking family for all I care.”
“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.”
Whoa.
“Tell your brother to come find me,” he said before proceeding to hook the sliotar he’d hit her with onto his hurley with expert precision. “I’ll be waiting for him. And as for you?” Catching the white, leather ball midair, he tucked it into the pocket of his school trousers and added, “You better take note of this warning because it’s the last one you’ll get, ya hear?”
Loretta sucked in a loud breath before turning around and running in the direction of the school buses.
Ha!
Good enough for you.
I didn’t even try to hide the laugh that escaped me.
I was thrilled.
“Shan,” Joey said then, turning his attention to his sister. “You good?”
“All good, Joe,” she mumbled, quickly moving to his side.
Nostrils flaring, he stared down at his sister for a long moment before saying. “Good.” And then, without looking at me or Claire, he nodded stiffly. “Let’s go.”
“Uh, bye, guys,” Shannon called out before hurrying after her brother, who was striding off in the direction of town. “See you after Halloween break.”
“Bye,” we both called back before turning to gape at each other.
“That was so cool!” I laughed as we hurried toward our bus. “He made her cry.”
“That was so scary,” Claire offered, brown eyes wide. “Shannon’s brother looked super-mad at everyone.” She frowned before adding, “He even looked mad at us.”
“That’s because he’s always mad,” one of the twins from our class said when we lined up behind them for the bus. I wasn’t sure if it was Marybeth or Cadence because they looked exactly the same. I didn’t mind either way. They were both nice.
“With everyone,” the other twin agreed at the same time I said, “I think he’s great.”
“Ooh,” the first twin snickered, covering her mouth with her hand. “Lizzie has the hots for Shannon’s brother.”
“What’s the hots?”
“It’s when you look at a boy and your face gets hot.”
“No it’s not.”
“Uh-huh, yeah it is.”
“I think I have the hots for Joey, too,” the second twin confessed. When her cheeks turned bright pink, I decided this one had to be Cadence. She was the twin that blushed whenever a teacher asked her a question. “My face gets hot when I see him on the playground.”
“Me, too,” Marybeth agreed. “It’s because he’s pretty, like Casper.”
Claire frowned. “The ghost?”
“Yep,” the twins said in unison, before both adding, “but the real boy Casper.”
The line moved, and my friends climbed up the steps of the bus, while I followed behind.
When I reached the aisle and saw how full the bus was, I felt something strange in my belly. Normally, we took a smaller one home from school at 2 p.m. that was just for junior and senior infants, but because today was Halloween break and everyone had finished at 12 p.m., we had to take the bus with the bigger kids. This bus was one of the big ones, and it picked up children from other schools, too. I didn’t like it.
When one of the twins pulled Claire down to sit beside her, and the other sat with someone else, the feeling in my belly got worse.
Finding an empty row across the aisle, I set my schoolbag down on the outside seat and took the seat near the window before the bus took off.
Everything was so loud.
The other children.
The roar of the engine.
The laughter around me.
The vibrations beneath my seat.
Too loud.
Too much.
Uncomfortable, I placed my hands on my lap and focused on picking at the small sliver of skin hanging from my nail as the bus driver made his trek through town. Caoimhe called those pieces of skin upstarts and told me not to pick them or they would get worse, but that never stopped me.
Eyes trained on the wobbly piece of skin, I plucked and yanked at it until it gave way and tore off. When the stinging sensation started in my finger, I felt my shoulders relax. A small red dot appeared from the cut, the same color as the dots in my underwear earlier, and I watched in fascination as it slowly trickled down my finger.
Like a tiny river of blood, the voice whispered from the dark corner of my mind, you belong to the water, little bee.
Oh no.
No, no, no.
My body stiffened and I looked around in panic, wondering if anyone else had heard it. Nobody seemed to. They were all chatting and laughing with each other and not looking in my direction. The bus had stopped again, and some children were getting off while even more were getting on.
All boys this time.
Loud, noisy boys.
Panicking, I pulled my sleeves down, hiding my fingers under the fabric of my school jumper. Because I wanted to keep picking. I wanted to scratch and tear and peel my skin off because it made me feel calm. But I wasn’t supposed to do that anymore. Because it was bad. The doctors said so.
So I used my sleeves to hide my hands from my eyes.
From my mind.
Because I wanted to be a good girl.
Like Mark promised I would be.
“Yay! You did it!”
My head snapped up when I heard Claire’s excited squeal, and I spotted her talking to one of the older boys who had just gotten on. She was talking excitedly to the boy, but I wasn’t so sure he was listening to her because he had headphones over his ears. The really cool ones with the metal headband, like Caoimhe got last Christmas. The headphones were attached to a black lead that connected to the silver Walkman in his other hand.
“You are the best big brother ever!” she continued to squeal, clapping her hands together. The twins were both kneeling up on their seats, too, but I couldn’t tell them apart this time because they were both blushing.
“This is Marybeth,” Claire told her brother, pointing to the twin next to her before pointing to the one in front. “And this is Cadence.”
When her brother held an envelope out to them, the twins beamed up at him before both diving for it at the same time.
It quickly became a tugging match between the sisters, and I zoned out, focusing on Claire’s big brother instead. I knew she had one, I even knew his name—Hugh—but Claire told us he was stinky and looked like the troll on the cover of storybook The Three Billy Goats Gruff.
Claire told a lie.
Her brother did not look like the troll.
He was wearing a dark green jumper with the Scoil Eoin crest on it and gray school trousers, and he was tall. Like super tall. He had blond hair like his sister, but his hair was a darker shade and cut tight at the back and sides, leaving a messy mop of wavy curls on top.
“That’s Lizzie,” Claire announced then, pointing in my direction as the bus pulled off again. “She’s right over there, see?”
Claire’s brother looked my way then, and I felt a sudden wave of warmth flush through my body. Not the angry warm feeling or the scary warm one that happened at nighttime. No, this was a different kind of warm. Like the warm I felt when I saw Shannon’s brother at school. Except nicer.
So much nicer.
Her brother started to walk toward me, and I felt my body lock tight, while the warm feeling grew hotter and hotter.
When he reached my seat, he slid his headphones down to rest on his neck before offering me a hopeful smile. “Lizzie?”
Whoa.
Claire was a big, fat liar.
Nodding eagerly, I grabbed my schoolbag off the seat and smiled up at him, hoping and praying he would sit down.
He did.
“Thanks,” he said, placing his bag on the floor with mine. “I’m Hugh.”
“I know.” Excitement bubbled inside me when he turned to face me. “Claire told us you looked like a troll.” Twisting sideways on my seat, I leaned in close and took a whiff. “Claire said you were stinky.” I pulled back and frown. “But you’re not.” He smelled like soap and strawberries. “I like how you smell.”
“Uh, okay?” Hugh replied with a small laugh. “Thanks, I think?”
His eyes were big, and warm, and brown, and safe. Not the same dark brown as Claire’s eyes. Hers were much darker. Her brother’s eyes were brown like the color of my daddy’s whiskey.
Whiskey eyes.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing at his headphones that were still playing music.
“This?” He held the device up. “It’s a Walkman.”
“I know that, silly.” Giggling, I reached up and tapped one of the earphones. “What’s the song?”
“Oh.” He pulled the headphones off his neck and handed them to me. “It’s called ‘Send Me on My Way’ from Rusted Root.”
Holding the speaker part to my ear, I listened carefully to the melody playing. It was a happy one. It made me smile. “I like it.”
“Yeah,” he agreed when I handed the headphones back to him. “Me, too.”
Attention riveted on the boy sitting next to me, I studied every amber-colored fleck and pattern in his eyes. Thick, dark lashes fanned out from his eyelids, the same color as his big pupils.
Hugh Biggs had whiskey eyes that didn’t look away.
Instead, they stayed right on mine, warm and kind and chasing away the scary feeling in my head. Caoimhe always told me to stop staring so hard at people. She said it was creepy and weird. But this boy didn’t seem to mind.
“Your eyes are nice,” I told him, feeling my heart flip-flop when I looked at him. “I like them.”
“Uh, thanks?” His cheeks reddened. “I like yours, too.”
“Your face is red.”
He shifted in discomfort. “So is yours.”
“I know why.” I beamed back at him. “It’s because I give you the hots.”
“Uh.” He looked surprised and his face turned even redder. “I, uh…”
“It’s okay.” Grinning, I grabbed his hand and pressed it to my cheek. “See? You give me the hots, too.”
“Uh…yeah, maybe,” he mumbled, pulling his hand away. “Here,” he said then, thrusting an envelope into my hands, brown eyes watching me warily. “It’s an invitation to my birthday party.” His cheeks started to turn pink. “I hope you can come.”
“I can,” I blurted out, gripping the envelope for dear life. “I’ll come.”
“You don’t even know what day it is,” he chuckled, giving me a peculiar look. “It’s on Halloween, so you might be busy with your family.”
“I’m not,” I hurried to say, unsure if I was busy or not. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. All I knew for sure in this moment was that I was going to his birthday party. “I’ll be there.”
“It’s a fancy dress party.”
“Oh.” I scrunched my nose up. “I don’t like dressing up.”
“Yeah, me either,” he sighed. “But my mam makes us because of my birthday being on Halloween.” He offered me an apologetic smile. “Some of the lads in my class will have pound shop masks and bin bags on, so don’t worry about fancy costumes,” he added before bursting into laughter.
“What?” I grinned and shifted closer. “What’s so funny?”
“I’m just thinking about my friend,” he explained, still chuckling. “He’s dressing up as Peter Pan.” He choked out another hearty laugh, and this time a snort escaped. “He has green tights and everything.”
His laughter caused me to laugh along with him, and I shivered when a rippling feeling settled in my belly. “What are you dressing up as?”
“Dr. Grant from Jurassic Park.”
“Dr. Grant,” I repeated to myself, tucking that information safely away. “So, no tights then?”
“Definitely not,” he mused, brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “You really don’t have to dress up.” His tone was gentle when he added, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He looked at me for a long time before he shook his head and stood up. “I better go back to my friends.” Reaching for his bag, he slung it over his shoulder and offered me a smile. “See ya later.”
“See ya,” I replied, even though I wanted to tell him to come back.
Hugh shook his head and turned to leave, only to swing back around and lean in close. “I think you’re right,” he whispered, breath fanning my cheek.
I turned to ask him what he meant, but he was already walking away. Pulling up on my knees, I rested my chin on the back of my seat and watched Claire’s brother join a group of boys wearing the same uniform as him at the back of the bus.
Grinning, I watched Hugh take a seat next to a dark-haired boy who wrapped his arm around his neck and put him in a headlock. They both started laughing and wrestling each other, while the other boys cheered them on.
When Claire’s brother broke free from his friend’s headlock, he craned his head up and looked in my direction.
When his eyes landed on mine and he grinned, my heart flip-flopped again. I quickly sank back down on my seat and exhaled a shaky breath. Feeling my face burn with heat, I clutched his invitation to my chest and smiled.
