Page 14

APRIL 30, 1993

Lizzie

“C AOIMHE , I DIDN’T MEAN IT .” H OVERING IN MY SISTER’S BEDROOM DOORWAY , I clasped my hands together and sniffled. I wanted to tell her that I was sorry for ruining her birthday party, but she wouldn’t listen to me. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Get out!” she screamed, throwing a can of deodorant at me. “I fucking hate you, Lizzie!”

I covered my mouth with my hand to stop myself from screaming again. Like I had in front of her friends earlier. I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t know why it happened.

“I hate her!” Caoimhe cried, throwing herself face down on her bed. “I wish she wasn’t here!”

“Don’t say that,” one of her friends from school said while he rubbed her shoulder. He was the only boy at her party. “I have younger brothers and sisters, too, and they throw tantrums all the time.”

“Not like her, they don’t,” Caoimhe wailed into her pillow.

“You clearly haven’t met Joey,” the boy replied. “Shh, come on, it’s not the end of the world.”

“I can’t even have a birthday party without her ruining it.” She cried harder. “I wish she was dead!”

Me too .

“She pulled my hair,” I tried to explain, through my tears. “She hurt me.”

The boy turned back to look at me. “I know,” he said in a gentle voice. “She’s telling the truth, you know.” He looked at Caoimhe. “I saw Saoirse Murphy pull her ponytail when you were blowing out the candles on your cake.”

“And that gives her the right to scratch her eyes out?” Caoimhe snarled, sitting up to glare at me. “She’s my friend and you made her bleed.” She choked out a sob. “You can forget it if you think Dad will ever send you to school in town now. You’ll be lucky if you’re not shipped off to residential!”

“Caoimhe, come on, she’s only little.”

“What? You know I’m right,” Caoimhe spat back, shaking all over. “I told you everything, Darren. You know what she cost me.” Sniffling, she turned to glare at me again. “You better hope the cancer doesn’t kill Mam, because if it does, you’ll be out of this house before she’s cold in the ground, and good fucking riddance.”

“Jesus Christ, Caoimhe!”

“I don’t care, Darren,” she screamed. “She’s a fucking lunatic!”

“Caoimhe, I’m sorry—”

“Get her out of here, Darren,” she screamed. “Please get her the fuck away from me before I kill her myself!”

“Maybe you should go downstairs for a little bit.” Darren looked at me again, this time with sad, blue eyes. His voice was kind when he said, “Your sister’s just upset, okay? She doesn’t mean any of this.”

Sniffling, I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“It’ll be okay.” He gave me a reassuring smile. “I promise.”