‘I don’t drink much compared to most people.’
‘Rachel. Do you tell them you drink?’
‘Well … it’s not like I bring it up.’
‘There you go.’
She thinks about that for a moment. ‘So, I should just avoid talking about it?’
‘Until it dies down anyway.’
‘What about the rest of it?’ she asks.
‘What?’
‘The fight.’
‘What else were you fighting about?’
‘God. Everything. How he doesn’t take anything seriously. How he thinks I’m too serious. He called me boring!’ she says with the same horror as if he’d called her a crack whore.
I laugh.
‘What’s so funny?’ she asks crossly.
I shrug. ‘I just think he wants more fun, Rache.’
‘Like, what, I’m a comedian?’
I’m laughing again. ‘Sorry.’
‘So that’s a yes, obviously.’ She is seriously angry with me.
‘Do you love him?’ I ask, knowing the answer.
‘I guess,’ she says, despondently.
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. He’s cute. And fun. And witty. And I don’t know, he’s just Mark.’
‘And you don’t really want to change him, do you?’
She thinks about that for a long time, then she smiles. ‘No.’
Going home on the DART, it’s just me and Alex. Rachel and Mark have gone off somewhere to make up.
‘Want me to go with you to Dalkey?’ I ask.
She looks at me like she’s coming out of a trance. ‘What?’
I ask again.
‘Eh, no. Thanks. I’m fine.’
‘Maybe Mike should pick you up from school for a while, even for a week or two.’
‘No! I don’t want to change anything. I don’t want anyone to know.’
‘OK.’
As we approach the stop for the home, I put my bag on my lap ready to get up.
‘How’s Shane?’ she asks, surprising me.
I want to tell her. But I know what she’ll think – that I’m making the world’s biggest mistake. So I just smile. ‘He’s good. Moving home soon.’
I expect her to say something bland, like ‘great.’ But she surprises me with, ‘You’ll miss him.’
‘We’re going to stay in touch,’ I say, lightly, afraid she’s sussed me. But she’s gone again, miles away, back to her own, worried world.
When I get off the DART, I take out my phone. And call Mary Gleeson.
That night, Rachel calls.
‘Oh my God, we just had the best time.’
‘You and Mark?’
‘Yeah. We just hung out and had a laugh.’
I smile. ‘So it’s not over, then?’
‘No. It’s not over.’ I can hear the smile in her voice.
‘Good. Cause you make a great couple.’
‘I need to loosen up. I don’t know why I get so uptight.’
‘You’re a high achiever, Rache. But, hey, look at what you’ve achieved.’
‘I could have lost him, though. It was going that way.’
‘Nah. He’s too mad about you to let that happen. He’s good for you, Rache. You don’t need to worry about the other stuff. You’re bright. You’ll so get there. You know?’
‘What are you up to?’ she asks.
‘Would you believe, studying?’
And we laugh.
TWENTY-EIGHT | CHINESE
The exams drop on me like something falling from the sky. I sit, waiting for our first paper (Maths, oh joy) to hit my desk. I look around. Everyone’s so relaxed. Which isn’t a total shocker. Transition Year exams don’t matter to anyone. Except me. My heart is beating even faster than it usually does at exam time. Which is impressive.
And here it comes, the paper.
I lift it up. Turn it over, expecting the worst. I look at the first question. And think, Oh my God. I can do this! I come to the next question. And I don’t get that this-is-Chinese feeling. I know what they want. I close my eyes and give Shane an imaginary high-five. It. Is. Amazing. I get all the questions finished. And for the first time, probably ever, I come out of an exam hall smiling.
‘What did you get for number four?’ I ask Rachel and Alex.
They stare at me. Because normally the last thing I want to do is discuss the paper. If anyone starts, I usually disappear.
As soon as I get to my locker, I call Shane. I tell him everything that came up and how I answered them. I’m on the phone so long, the others go ahead to lunch. Shane seems even happier than I am. I’d give anything to be with him right now.
In the afternoon, I actually enjoy an exam. Which is a bit freaky.
At dinner, I tell Mum, in total surprise, that I think I did well.
‘Well, you’ve been doing a lot of study.’
‘Yeah but it never feels like study with Shane.’
‘You know,’ Mum says, ‘sometimes I wonder if getting caught shoplifting wasn’t the best thing that’s happened you.’
I stare at her. But then I start to think. If it wasn’t for the community service, I’d never have met Shane.
‘And maybe,’ Mum says, ‘the best thing that ever happened me was your father meeting someone else.’
Wow.
Shane moves home. And invites me over after school.
His mum, Deirdre, answers the door. Before I know it, she’s hugging me.
‘Thank you,’ she whispers in my ear. When she pulls back, her eyes are glistening. I love her instantly.
Shane appears behind her. ‘Yo, homey. Welcome to my crib.’
I smile. ‘Hey.’
I don’t kiss him. His mum’s there. I just follow them into this huge open-plan space containing kitchen, sitting and dining areas. It’s bright and modern with enormous cream tiles, under-floor heating and cool leather furniture. It has amazing views out over Dublin Bay.
‘Would you like a drink?’ Deirdre asks.
‘Sure, I’ll get them in my room,’ Shane says.
His room is on the same floor. The door slides open using remote control. It’s amazing. Huge, for starters. Instead of windows there’s a wall of glass which slides open to a balcony with views of the sea, right out over to Howth. But I’m a gadget person and his bed looks seriously interesting.
‘Can I try it out?’
He hands me a zapper. I go through all its functions. Moving the head up and down, rotating the bed from side to side, starting a ripple movement on this special mattress.
‘Look up,’ he says.
And there are my stars. Aw.
‘Your crystal’s over there.’
‘Your crystal.’
‘OK. My crystal.’ He smiles.
His favourite buildings are over his bed. On the wall opposite is a giant TV. He’s got an X-box 360 and a Wii.
‘Do you have the cow race game?’ I ask enthusiastically.
He smiles. And nods.
‘I am moving in.’
He gets me a Coke from a cool, miniature fridge.
‘Oh my God, there’s Quagmire.’
He smiles. ‘You meet at last.’
Quagmire lies motionless under a red lamp.
‘Does he do anything?’
‘He gets interesting when he eats.’
I shiver. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’
‘The couch pulls into a bed,’ he says. ‘For anyone who wants to stay over.’
‘Is that an invitation?’ I climb up on his chair and kiss him. ‘Have you told your parents that we’re together?’
‘Course I have.’
‘What did they say?’
He looks at me, suddenly serious. ‘They were worried. For you.’
‘Yeah well I hope you told them not to be.’
‘Sarah, I’m worried for you. Have you been on Google Images lately?’
‘Oh my God, Shane. You know I’ve looked it up. You know I know. E
verything.’
He doesn’t back down. ‘I meant what I said about leaving. Any time.’
I put my face right up to his. ‘I know you did. But I won’t be going anywhere.’ I kiss him. ‘Any time.’
‘You know,’ he says. And he’s smiling now. ‘You’re my mum’s hero.’
I smile. ‘Yeah, well, you’re mine.’
I feel bad that I haven’t told anyone about us. It’s like I’m not proud of him. Which I so am.
He raises his Coke. ‘To home.’
‘To home.’
‘And you.’
I smile. ‘And me.’ We kiss.
‘OK, you’ve exams tomorrow. Let’s study.’
I groan. But take out my books. Because he is always, always thinking of me.
Next day is another good-exam day. Wahoo!
On our way out of school, I tell Alex and Rachel about Shane.
‘I kinda guessed,’ Alex says.
‘You think I’m mad, don’t you?’
‘No, I don’t. I think you’re brave.’
‘He must be really special,’ Rachel says.
‘He is. He really is.’
‘When are we going to meet him?’ Alex asks.
‘Oh my God, I’d love that. I don’t know. I’ll check with Shane.’
‘Call him,’ Rachel says.
‘What, now?’
‘Yeah, why not?’
I shrug. Smile. ‘OK.’ I make the call.
‘Thought you’d never ask,’ he says.
We arrange it for Saturday afternoon. As soon as I put down the phone, though, I start to worry.
‘Don’t be nice to him,’ I say. ‘Just be normal.’
They nod.
‘Like, give him the usual grief and stuff.’
‘OK.’
‘Slag him, like.’
Rachel smiles. ‘It’s OK. We get it.’
I nod. ‘Good.’
‘Don’t worry. It’ll be great,’ she says.
‘Where’ll we meet?’ Alex asks.
‘The Jitter Mug has wheelchair access,’ I say, but then remember. ‘But that might be, like, awkward for you … with Louis there.’
Alex looks at me. ‘No. I’ve decided from now on, I’m going to be as ballsy as you.’
I don’t know why that makes me teary but it does.
‘You were right about Mary Gleeson,’ she says.
‘Who?’ Rachel asks. And I think it must be a record. For me to know something she doesn’t.
‘Sarah’s shrink.’
‘Did you actually go see her?’
‘Not yet. We just spoke on the phone. But you were right. She makes you feel that you can do stuff, that you have choices. I’m going to see her tomorrow.’ She smiles across at me. ‘Thanks, Sarah.’
I smile back. I feel closer to her than I ever have.
Friday night, I’m on a high. The exams are over and not one was a disaster. I’m going upstairs, when Louis comes out of his room. He gives me this strange look.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘Nothing,’ he says. And walks into the bathroom.
I shrug and head up to my room. I go on Facebook, chat to Shane and forget all about Louis.
TWENTY-NINE | GOOD LUCK
First thing Saturday my phone rings. I sit up in bed. It’s Alex.
‘Hey,’ I say, surprised. ‘What’s up?’
‘I told Louis.’
Oh my God. That explains last night. ‘What did he say?’
‘It’s OK. I told him I didn’t expect anything.’
‘What did he say?’ I ask, impatiently.
Another pause. ‘Good luck, more or less.’
‘Good luck? That’s it? Oh my God. I’ll kill him.’
‘Sarah. I don’t want anything from Louis, I told him that. I was just letting him know, so I’ve nothing to hide. Mary Gleeson made me see it – a lifetime secret would be too much.’
‘So you’re still going to keep the baby.’
‘It still has my mum’s genes.’
‘I can’t believe he said “good luck”. I mean what kind of guy says “good luck”?’
‘Sarah I’m glad he did. We’re not in a relationship. This would just tie us together.’
‘So he gets away scot free?’
‘I just want to get on with this. I don’t want hassle. I don’t need his help.’
‘He has responsibilities. He’s my brother. I feel responsible—’
‘Well don’t. Because you’re not.’
‘I feel it.’
‘Sarah, you’ve been the best friend about this. Do not feel guilty.’
‘He’s my brother. You’d never have even met if it wasn’t for me.’
‘OK now, stop. This way is best. I’ve told him. He knows. And I’m not tied to him. I’m free. Free to bring this baby up the way I want to.’
‘Still—’
‘Sarah, stop. I mean it.’
‘OK.’ Then I think about today. ‘What about this afternoon? The coffee shop.’
‘What about it? Louis made his choice. And that’s fine with me. I’m not letting it get in the way of my life. I’ll have coffee where I want to have coffee.’
I march straight down to him. Burst in his door.
He’s still in bed. Of course.
‘“Good luck”? What kind of guy says “good luck”? Oh my God, you’re such a wimp.’
He sits up. Has the decency to look guilty. ‘Right, OK. I’m a wimp.’ He reaches for a T-shirt and drags it on.
‘Alex is my friend. How could you do it?’
‘It wasn’t some evil plan.’
‘She’s sixteen.’
‘Jesus. Can you keep your voice down?’ He’s out of the bed now, dragging on his jeans.
‘So, you still enjoying life?’
He runs his fingers through his hair, walks to the window, looks out, turns around. ‘She doesn’t want anything from me. She made that clear.’
‘Did you offer anything?’
He looks down at his feet.
‘You’re going to be a dad, Louis. You’re going to have a son. Or daughter. Our dad walked out on us. You going to do the same?’
‘I’m going out with someone.’
‘Oh my God. Suddenly you’re going out with someone? Would that be Miriam by any chance?’
He turns from me, stretches out his arms on the window sill and leans forward. Finally, he turns back.
‘Alex made her choice. It was the surfer dude.’
‘What?’
‘She didn’t want me. She wanted him.’
I don’t get it. ‘You asked her to choose?’
‘No.’
‘Then what are you talking about?’
‘Nothing.’
‘By the way, the “surfer dude” was standing by Alex till it turned out it was your baby.’
‘Good for him,’ he says, like he hates him.
‘Aren’t you even sorry?’
‘Of course I’m sorry.’
‘Then do something.’
‘She doesn’t want me to, OK?’
‘How convenient.’
‘It’s not convenient. It’s a bloody fact.’
‘So how’ll you feel when your kid looks you in the eye some day and doesn’t know what you are to them?’
‘Relieved. Probably.’
‘Asshole,’ I say, and leave.
When Shane and I get to the Jitter Mug, Alex and Rachel are already there. I wave. They wave back. Shane waves too, messing. We laugh. I introduce everyone. Shane asks if he can get them anything.
‘No, we’re fine thanks,’ Rachel says.
He looks at me. ‘What are you having?’
‘Sure, I’ll go up with you.’
‘No. Stay. You’re grand.’
‘OK, thanks,’ I say, because I know he wants to do this.
I tell him what I want, then sit down, hoping he’ll manage.
‘He’s lovely,’ Alex whispers.
‘
Kind of adorable,’ Rachel says.
I smile. Because he is both those things. And they see it.
‘Don’t look now,’ Rachel says, ‘but guess who’s just walked in.’
We look – of course. It’s Simon. And Amy. Luckily, they’re too into each other to see us. I turn around to see how Shane’s doing. And smile. He’s on his way. I get up and pull a chair out of the way to make space for him.
‘My God,’ Shane says to me. ‘There’s a guy at the counter looks just like you.’
We all look at each other. I laugh.
‘That’s amazing. No one ever thinks we look alike. That’s Louis, my brother. Oh God, sorry. I should have introduced you.’
He looks back at Louis. ‘I can’t believe no one sees it.’ He turns to Rachel and Alex. ‘You don’t see it?’
Then, like they’ve known each other all their lives, they’re talking. I guess that’s when I realise how nervous I’ve been about this whole thing.
We’re there an hour when a shadow falls over us. I look up.
‘I thought I recognised you!’
It’s Simon. And he’s talking to Shane, who he has never met in his life.
Shane smiles. ‘Simon,’ he says.
That’s when I get it. Facebook.
Simon turns to me. ‘You left me for this.’ He looks at Shane as if he’s dirt.
I stand up. ‘Piss off, Simon.’
He smiles. ‘Or else?’
I panic. Or else what? ‘I’ll tell them about your little secret.’
‘What secret?’
There is no secret. ‘How small you are.’
He laughs like I’m hilarious.
So I look down at his crotch. ‘There isn’t even a bulge, Simon.’
Everyone automatically looks. Including Amy, who’s standing beside him, sidekick to bully.
Simon looks at Shane, then at me, with his eyebrows raised. ‘So you’ve a bulge now, Sarah? Is that what you’re saying?’
I stand tall. ‘What I’m saying is that Shane is more of a man than you’ll ever be.’ And I’m so sorry to be standing here discussing Shane like he’s invisible. How did we get to this?
‘You know, I always thought you were sad,’ Simon says. ‘But this is seriously sad.’
‘Not as sad as you,’ is all I can think of to say. I’m shaking. With rage. With humiliation for Shane.
The Butterfly Novels Box Set: Contemporary YA Series (And By The Way; And For Your Information; And Actually) Page 46