The Halloween/eighteenth birthday party Sinead Biggs threw for her son turned out to be a roaring success. More people than I knew the names of were crammed into their three-story house, while the DJ she hired played a mixture of modern jams and Halloween classics. The drink was flying, the craic was ninety, and I was freaking the hell out.
Clammed up tighter than a duck’s ass with tension, I followed Claire around the party like she had an invisible collar and lead attached to my neck.
I didn’t know what else to do.
My mind was in a heap after our kiss, and while Claire found it effortless to socialize, mingle, and entertain the masses, I had been given no such instruction manual.
Did I hold her hand? Did I not?
Did I run for my life before I could fuck up our friendship? Or was it too late for running, and if so, should I apologize?
I honestly had no idea.
All I knew in this moment was that if the viper didn’t stop throwing shade at me, I was going to lose my mind. Already, Lizzie had tossed half a dozen snippy comments, both directed at me and at my expense, and I was running low on patience.
“Ignore her,” Johnny instructed a little while later when he joined me outside. “She’s looking for a reaction, lad. Keep on not giving her one.”
“I’m trying,” I bit out, taking a deep drag of the cigarette I’d bummed from Joey. Unlike him, I was more of a social smoker, and only smoked O.P.’s – aka other people’s. “But she’s everywhere I turn.”
The words were no sooner out of my mouth when Lizzie stepped into the back garden. The minute her eyes landed on me she released a furious growl. “Why do you always have to be everywhere I go?”
“I could say the same about you,” I snapped back, bristling.
Johnny placed a steadying hand on my shoulder. “You’re good, Gibs.”
No, I wasn’t. I wasn’t good at all, and this girl only made my life a million times more miserable. Still, I offered my best friend a clipped nod and forced myself to comply and ignore her.
“He sure is good,” Lizzie sniped. “A good-for-nothing traitor bastard!”
“Back off,” Johnny warned, quickly cutting her off. “I get that you’re one of Shannon’s best friends, and I’m trying to respect that relationship, really I am, but don’t walk over a line here, because he’s my best friend, and I won’t hesitate to take his side.”
Lizzie continued to glare at us for a long beat before turning around and stalking back into the house.
“You’d really take my side?” I asked, ignoring the sound of the door slamming.
“I’m already on your side, Gibs.”
Well, shit.
“You know, you’re like the brother I never had.”
“Don’t get messy on me, Gibs,” he chuckled. “You haven’t had that much to drink, lad.”
“Yet,” I corrected with a smile. “I’m so fucking glad your grandmother died when she did.”
“Wow, thanks, Gibs.”
“Because you’re here,” I tried to explain. “Fuck knows where I’d be if you hadn’t moved to Ballylaggin.”
Several hours later, as I threw shapes around the Biggs’ jam-packed kitchen to the Ghostbusters anthem, I concluded that Johnny might be onto something when he labeled me a messy drunk.
I certainly felt like a mess right about now.
“Nah,” I slurred, toasting myself before necking my seventh ghost-shaped, vodka-jelly shot, “fuck ’em all.”
“Steady up on the shots, pet,” Mammy number two instructed, and then she did the unthinkable and took the tray out of my hand. “That’s a good boy.”
“Sinead!” I wailed, eyeing the tray longingly. “I helped make those.”
“Yes, you did, Gibs,” she agreed, squeezing my cheek with affection. “And now, you can let the others help you drink them.”
“Fine.” Huffing out a breath, I slumped against the island and sulked. “Ruin my life, why don’t ya?”
“Why don’t you go and see what Claire is doing instead of standing around on your own all night, hm?” Leaning a hip against the island, she smiled up at me. “I’m sure she’d love to have a dance with you.”
“While I would love to dance with your daughter, it wouldn’t be a wise move.”
“Oh?” She smirked. “And why not?”
“Because I might be tempted to do more than just dance with her,” I replied in a solemn tone. “I might be lured into performing the physical act of love.”
“You do realize it’s me you’re talking to, don’t you, Gibs?” Frowning, Claire’s mam reached up and felt my brow. “As in Claire’s mother.”
“Oh yes.” I nodded solemnly. “I’d know your tits anywhere. Thank you, by the way. For making Claire. You did a top-notch job on that one.” Frowning, I added, “The older one could do with a bit of work, but the younger one is perfect.”
“Oh dear.” Sinead sighed wearily. “I think it’s time someone’s mother comes to collect him.”
“I think you might be right.” Sighing dramatically, I swiped another shot from the confiscated tray and tossed it back. “Meanwhile, until she arrives, I must resume my dancing a safe distance from your daughter’s perfect tits – thanks for those, too, by the way.”
