Page 69

AT LEAST YOU DIDN’T BITE HIM

Lizzie

MARCH 17, 1999

B ECAUSE THE FIVE OF US HAD CYCLED INTO TOWN FROM H UGH’S PLACE TO WATCH THE parade—something we were only allowed to do because Caoimhe was in charge—and Feely and I didn’t have our bikes with us, we had to double up on the back, too. Claire cycled her pink unicorn bike, while Gibsie gave Feely a saddler on the back of his bike, and Hugh gave me one on the back of his.

Even though he’d been on the receiving end of a bloody nose, Gibsie was in flying form and spent the entire ride home praising me for being a badass .

I wasn’t a badass.

Far from it .

I’d messed up again.

Really bad this time.

I knew when I was fighting with Danny that I needed to stop , but I couldn’t seem to restrain myself.

If word got back to my dad, I would be in a world of trouble. Worse, I embarrassed Hugh. Those guys were his friends, and I screwed it all up for him.

I tried so hard to keep my cool, but when they targeted Gibsie, I lost it. He was so sweet and gentle, and he didn’t deserve to be picked on all because he didn’t want to play their stupid game.

Feely and Claire joined in with Gibsie as they laughed and joked about the fight at the park. Not Hugh, though. He was quiet the entire way home.

Panic-stricken, I balanced on the saddle behind him, while I held on to his waist for dear life and prayed he wouldn’t start hating me now.

Abandoning their bikes on the footpath once we got back to Hugh’s place, everyone went inside, with the fight still the hot topic.

I knew I was screwed the minute Claire burst into the lounge and began to regale my sister with the events. She looked so proud of me as she told Caoimhe all about how I defended Gerard’s honor, while my heart sank further. Because while Claire might consider my actions justified, my father would see them in a very different light.

He would hear all about it now.

It was inevitable.

Caoimhe knew, which meant it would only be a matter of time before Dad did, too.

The moment my sister’s eyes locked on mine, I sighed in defeat.

I’m so screwed .

“Are you okay?” Hugh asked, settling down beside me on the couch in the front room, remote in hand. “You’ve been really quiet since we got home.”

I was too afraid to speak in case I said something stupid again. We’d been home from town for about three hours now, and I felt like I was on borrowed time. Because I just knew that when I saw my dad later, all hell would break loose. To be honest, I was surprised he hadn’t driven over here by now to take me home. Clearly, Caoimhe hadn’t phoned him yet.

“Liz.” Shaking my knee, Hugh drew my attention back to his face. “Are you okay?” Concern filled his eyes. “Talk to me.”

“Sorry, I was just watching the film,” I mumbled, offering him a watery smile. “I’m grand.”

“What film?” Hugh asked, brows furrowed deeply, as he gestured to the blank television screen. “What’s on your mind?”

“Do you hate me?” I blurted out, and then sucked in a sharp breath, fearful of his answer.

“Hate you?” He shook his head, looking bewildered. “Why would I ever hate you?”

“For making a scene,” I mumbled, feeling my body tremble. “And for kicking your friend in the balls.”

“Danny’s not my friend, Liz.” He rubbed his jaw, looking thoughtful. “He’s just…Danny.” A smile ghosted his lips then. “I think he pissed himself a little bit when you threatened to cut off his gooch.”

“Ugh.” Groaning, I dropped my head in my hands. “I’m such a freak.”

“You’re brilliant,” he chuckled, peeling my hands away from my face. “And hey, at least you didn’t bite him.”

“Ha-ha,” I grumbled, cheeks flaming. “Very funny. Let’s all laugh at the headcase.”

“I don’t see any headcases,” he shot back, tone serious now. “From my viewpoint, the only thing you’re guilty of is being a good friend.”

Maybe, but that wasn’t going to cut it with my family.

“You’re loyal, Liz,” he continued, draping an arm over my shoulders, brown eyes warm and full of sincerity. “And brave and so epically strong.”

“I don’t feel so strong lately, Hugh,” I admitted, sidling closer to him. “I feel tired and…”

“And what, Liz?”

“Scared,” I whispered, burying my face in his chest. “I’m always so scared.”

“Of what?”

I clenched my eyes shut and whispered, “Me.”