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BIRTHDAY WISHES AND HAND KISSES

Hugh

JUNE 9, 1998

“H APPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO M ILADY , happy birthday to you.” Crooning like a defective crow, I wandered through the tall grass in the Young family’s meadow after school on Tuesday, armed with birthday presents, a picnic blanket, and a cake in the shape of the number ten.

Releasing a hearty laugh, Lizzie jumped off one of the wooden swings attached to a tree and ran toward me. “Why thank you, brave knight.” When she reached me, she stretched up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “My hero.”

As usual, she was rocking dungarees, but these ones stopped at the knee. Another staple item she wore was a flannel shirt and today was no different. She had the plaid fabric tied around her waist. Her grass-stained knees complemented her unbrushed, grass-specked hair, and the mud smeared across her cheek.

“Thanks for coming over,” she said, dragging me from my thoughts.

“Always, Liz.”

Grinning, she playfully tipped her imaginary hat at me before adopting a southern drawl to say, “Looks like you’re not the only ten-year-old in town, cowboy.”

“Now, slow down there, Miss Dolly,” I replied, feigning a southern drawl of my own. “I’ll be your elder again in four full moons.”

“You’re so weird,” she snickered, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Thank you for my cake.” A laugh escaped her when she eyed the bite-sized chunk taken out of the number one. “Gibsie?”

“Do you even need to ask?” Handing Liz the cake Sadhbh had baked her, I laid the picnic blanket out on the grass and sank down on it. “You’re lucky I caught him in the act, or you’d be celebrating with a zero instead of ten.”

“It’s grand,” she replied, lowering herself down to sit cross-legged, facing me. “You’re all I want for my birthday.”

The way she said it in such a blasé tone, like it was a given that she would only want me, made me feel like a million quid. Even though her words were like an electric shock to my chest, I played it cool and didn’t react.

Liz looked so relaxed and content that I thought better of it than to toss a nuke into the mix by listing all the complicated feelings I had developed for her.

“Did your mam say yes to you sleeping over tonight?” She swiped a dollop of icing up with her finger and popped it into her mouth. “And taking the bus to school from here in the morning?”

“It was a tricky negotiation.” I sighed dramatically. “But I managed to get it over the line.”

Her blue eyes lit up. “You did?”

“Yep.” I smiled. “She’s handing over my uniform and schoolbag to your mother as we speak.”

“Oh my God, yes!” Squealing with delight, Liz lunged forward and threw her arms around me. “You’re the best.”

Later that night when we were back in her room, after eating dinner and watching a film with her family, we combed through her impressive book collection.

I knew the lads at school would call me an egghead for admitting it, but I fucking loved reading. Thrillers, murder mystery, true crime, autobiographies—it didn’t matter. I devoured every genre like crack. For me, books trumped rugby, soccer, and pretty much every other extracurricular activity I found myself lumped into.

One of my favorite things about Liz was that she matched my enthusiasm for reading. We could easily sit for hours in each other’s company reading, without feeling an ounce of pressure to make awkward conversation because there was never any awkwardness between us.

I knew Liz was gorgeous, but her appearance could never hold a flame to her mind. The fact of the matter was she both challenged and intrigued me to the point where I was wholly invested in her.

When Liz set her paperback down a little later and proposed we play a new game, I found myself more confused and thrilled than usual.

“Come on,” she coaxed, extending her arm to me. “Show me how you plan to do it.”

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, facing her, I stared down at her hand in confusion. “You can’t be serious.”

“Please, Hugh,” she begged, shifting closer until our knees were touching. “I want to know.”

Nervous, I glanced down at her wrist before flicking my gaze back to her face. “Why?”

She smirked. “Because I’m nosy.”

I arched a brow. “You’re weird is what you are.”

“That, too,” she snickered, still holding her hand up to my face. “Please, Hugh. Just kiss it.”

“Okay, I’ll do it.” Repressing a shiver, I caught ahold of her arm and pulled her closer. “But if you tell the lads, I’ll never talk to you again.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she promised, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Now, pucker up.”

Leaning in close, I kept my eyes trained on hers when I pressed my lips to her wrist. I had no clue what to do once my lips were there, so I just stared at her for a long beat before asking, “Is that okay?”

“Perfect.” Liz slowly withdrew her hand from mine and exhaled a shaky breath. She then proceeded to blow my mind when she kissed her own wrist in the exact spot I kissed her.

“What are you doing?” My heart thundered so violently that I thought it might explode. “Why’d you do that, Liz?”

She kept her eyes on mine when she cradled her wrist to her chest and whispered, “Because I wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you.”