Page 85

PARTY LIKE IT’S 1999

Hugh

DECEMBER 31, 1999

“S TOP CHEATING .”

“I’m not cheating.”

“Yes, you are. You can’t hide in the mansion, Claire. You have to complete actual missions.”

“I told you not to give her a turn,” I grumbled from my perch on my bed. I tossed a rugby ball into the air and then snatched it back up, while my sister and Gibsie battled it out for dominion over my PlayStation controller. “Claire plays with the butler instead of doing missions.”

Tonight was New Year’s Eve, and my parents, along with Sadhbh and Keith, were heading to Catherine and Mike’s annual bash at Old Hall House. Clearly, all our parents had chipped in to pay Caoimhe a pretty penny to babysit all of us because there was no other way she would’ve agreed to give up the last night out of an entire millennium.

Christ, even my father had somehow managed to resurrect himself from the pits of despair to go out with Mam. I had no doubt it was temporary, of course. If I’d learned anything over the past four years, it was that my father had developed a “ready, steady, stop” attitude toward life. Sometimes he tried; more times he gave up. It was a pattern my mother and sister had grown accustomed to—and even accepted. Not me. I knew the man he once was would never stand for his broken promises. The father I knew would kick the father I have’s ass.

“It’s called Tomb Raider II for a reason,” Gibsie growled, bringing me back to the present, while failing to win back the controller. “Because she raids tombs, Claire. Not kitchens cupboards.”

“I’m exploring, Gerard,” she defended with a huff, tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on locking the butler in the freezer. “Besides, it’s my turn, guys. I can do what I want.”

“I told you,” I mused, feeling validated. “It’s worse than when we give her a turn on GTA , and she stops in traffic at the red light.”

“Because the red light means stop, Hugh Andrew Biggs.”

“Not in an alternate universe, Claire Bridget Biggs.”

“Ah, lad, look at Lara Croft’s boobs,” Gibsie chuckled around a mouthful of popcorn, as he pointed at the screen of my portable television. “Make her jump again, Claire-Bear.”

“Gerard! Don’t say boobs .”

“Can you zoom in?” he asked, hooking an arm around her to tap on the controller. “Make it go closer.”

“What—hey, no! Stop looking at Lara’s boobs.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not nice.”

“Hugh looks at her boobs.”

“I don’t care what Hugh looks at—”

The shrill sound of our doorbell chiming echoed through the air, bringing with it a sudden jolt of electricity straight to the heart.

Tossing the rugby ball down on my bed, I sprang to my feet and dove for the bedroom door, ignoring Gibsie’s request for more sweets from the kitchen.

He had two perfectly good feet.

When I reached the top of the landing and heard her familiar voice, the electric jolts in my chest morphed into full-on shocks throughout my entire body.

Finally .

I’d been checking the time all evening. Thankfully, I managed to the take the stairs two at a time without cracking my neck. Slip-sliding off the second-to-last step, I slid across the hallway tiles in my socks, not stopping until I had my hand pressed to the glass frosting of our front door.

“Nice moves, lover boy,” Caoimhe snickered, grinning down at me. “That was some Risky Business –style sliding you had going on there.”

My brows furrowed in confusion. “Huh?”

“Eighties’ reference, kid. Never mind,” she replied with a chuckle, stepping aside to reveal the only girl who could conjure electricity in her mind and shoot it into me. Because that’s what she did.

Liz grinned up at me, eyes twinkling with mischief, and I had to stifle a groan. Looking at her was getting more and more complicated because with age came beauty, and with beauty came hormones, and with hormones came urges. While I tried to conceal it as best as I could, I had some seriously strong urges directed solely toward this girl.

My girl .

“Hey, Hugh.” Snatching up my hand, she quickly moved to my side. My body burned with heat when her skin touched mine, and I had to repress the urge to shiver. “Thanks for inviting me to your sleepover.”

“You can always sleep with me, Liz,” I replied, feeling flustered. “I mean, you’re always welcome to my sleepovers.”

Normally, I would wait around to see my mother off, but tonight, I bolted upstairs with my girlfriend instead.

Call me petty, but I had no intention of patting my father’s head and telling him what a good boy he was for making the effort. Not when I knew in my heart that it would be months before any such effort would be repeated.

“Wait,” Liz whisper-hissed, yanking me away from my door before I opened it. “Do you have your phone?”

“Yeah.” I slid my hand into my pocket to retrieve the Nokia 3210 mobile phone I got for Christmas. “Do you have yours?”

“Yep,” she replied, grabbing my phone while handing me hers.

“You know, our mams probably went shopping for these together,” I mused, while I stored my number in her contacts and Liz stored hers in mine. “Claire and Gibs got the exact same make and model as us.”

“Probably,” she laughed, swapping phones again.

We both grinned at each other before tucking our phones away. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Not if I call you first,” she shot back with a wink.

“Fair enough.” Chuckling, I shook my head and moved for my room. “But you better be fast because the early bird catches the worm.”

“Wait,” she called out, grabbing my sleeve and pulling me back to her. “I have something for you.”

“But you already gave me your phone numb—” My words broke off when her lips crushed against mine. Her arms went around my neck, pulling my body closer to hers, and I went willingly.

Because I felt everything for this girl.

She only had to put her lips on mine and every nerve in my body was shot to hell. She had an uncanny talent for throwing my nerves into absolute disarray, while simultaneously seizing my ability to form a coherent thought.

When Liz finally tore her lips from mine, she left me with a horrendous problem in my jocks and her chewing gum in my mouth.

Her pupils were so dilated, they were almost black. I could only assume that they mirrored mine.

“Your sister won’t let me kiss you later,” she explained, still breathless from destroying me for any other girl. “So I thought I’d get my kiss now.”

She was right about that.

My sister had thrown the mother of all meltdowns when she found out about me and Liz. She even stopped speaking to us, though her silent treatment had only lasted a few weeks.

Liz had been devastated by the cold shoulder, while I’d been fucking elated with the peace and quiet.

The girls had managed to patch things up, but our relationship was still a sore spot for my sister, and because of this, Liz went out of her way to not touch me when Claire was around. We kept our relationship on the down-low, and Liz wouldn’t even hold my hand these days if my sister was looking.

It pissed me off to no end, but I couldn’t deny how much I enjoyed our stolen kisses when no one was around.

Reaching up, Liz trailed her finger and thumb over my bottom lip before retrieving her chewing gum from my mouth and popping it back into hers. “Tastes like you.” She winked. “My favorite flavor.”

Fuck .

Grinning, Liz patted my cheek before stepping around me with a definite hop in her step.

“Hey, guys,” she called out, opening my bedroom door and joining our friends.

Meanwhile, I remained frozen in my spot for a solid ten minutes, desperately trying to calm the hell down.

“Why do you have to go?” Claire whined an hour later, holding on to Gibsie’s hand with both of hers. “Don’t leave me on the millennium, Gerard,” she continued, digging her heels in when he tried to leave. “What if the world ends?”

“Claire-Bear, you have to let me go,” Gibsie chuckled, holding on to the doorframe with his free hand. “Johnny’s outside in the car waiting for me.”

“So?” she huffed, narrowing her eyes. “I’m your Claire-Bear.”

“I know you are,” he tried to coax, “and I’ll be home to my Claire-Bear in the morning.”

“Noooo,” she wailed. “If you go, I’ll be alone with the lovebirds.” She paused to shoot a glaring look in my direction before continuing her whining. “I’ll be all alone.”

“Uh, hello?” Feely, who had arrived shortly after Liz, interjected from his perch on the beanbag. “What am I? Dog shit?”

“Oops, sorry, Patrick,” Claire replied, reddening. “I forgot you were here.”

“Lovely.” Feely rolled his eyes. “Just lovely.”

“I will call you as soon as the clock strikes midnight,” Gibsie vowed, breaking free from her hold. “I love you.” He blew her a kiss before bolting from the room. “You’re still my best friend, Claire-Bear.”

“Yeah right.” Huffing out a dramatic breath, she flopped onto Feely’s lap and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m sulking.”

Her theatrics evoked an eye roll from me and a chuckle from my girlfriend. “Claire, he’s allowed to have other friends.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Aw, what’s wrong, Baby Biggs?” Feely asked, coddling her and feeding the drama queen. “Missing your playmate already?”

“Yes, because he’s always at Johnny’s house now,” Claire erupted, curls splaying wildly. “Going on trips with Johnny’s family, and sleepovers, and going to matches, and discos, and…and training .” She rolled her eyes to the heavens and fake gagged. “It makes me sick, Patrick. Like super sick.”

“Don’t tell me that you’re jealous of Johnny Kavanagh.”

“I’m not jealous of him,” Claire defended, cheeks turning bright pink. “I’m mad at him. He stole my best friend.”

“Would you relax?” I chimed in, too fucking weary to deal with her drama. “Gibs slept here every night since Christmas, and he spent all morning, afternoon, and evening with you.”

“And where is Gerard now, huh?” she demanded. “At a disco with Johnny Kavanagh, that’s where. And do you know what Johnny Kavanagh does at discos? He kisses girls, that’s what he does. Lots of girls. With tongues.”

“They’re not at a disco,” Feely said, attempting to calm her. “They’re at Cap’s house.”

“Exactly,” I agreed.

“Cap?” Claire narrowed her eyes. “Why do you call him that?” She looked around innocently. “Does he wear a lot of hats or something?”

“Yeah, Sis,” I laughed. “That’s why.”

“No, he doesn’t wear a lot of caps, Baby Biggs,” Feely explained, clearly taking pity on my baby sister. “We call him cap because he’s our captain.”

“Of what? Your imaginary ship?” Lizzie chimed in with a snicker. “I can see it now: Captain Fantastic and his flock of fanboys.”

“The rugby team, actually,” Feely shot back. “But good one, viper.”

“Well, I bet he’s making him practice rugby, which is silly because Gerard only likes rugby because Johnny likes rugby.” Claire huffed before asking, “Hey, are you guys sure they haven’t gone to a disco?”

“If Cap and Gibs were at a disco, we would be there.” Feely consoled her, patting her head.

“Yes, we would.” I nodded in agreement. “And far away from your tantrums.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if Johnny Kavanagh found a best friend of his own, I wouldn’t be so upset,” she doubled down and said, looking comically wounded. “Why did he have to pick my one?”

That was a question that continued to confound our class. Back in September, when Johnny Kavanagh sauntered in on the first day of sixth class, he’d taken an immediate shine to Gibsie, and they’d been inseparable at school ever since.

None of the lads in our class could understand why someone like Johnny would want to hang out with Gibsie.

I could.

Gibsie was the greatest friend a person could have. He was loyal, trustworthy, had the best personality in the whole school, and really fucking cared about the people he loved. Feely and I both knew that friends like Gerard Gibson didn’t come around too often, and I was glad Johnny realized it, too.

I would never say it out loud, because I didn’t want to embarrass the lad, but I was thrilled he had finally found his wings. He would always have me in his corner, no matter what, but seeing him making his way at school, and making friends for himself, made me so fucking proud. Because Johnny Kavanagh was his friend. Yeah, the four of us all hung out at lunch together, and Feely and I considered Johnny our friend, too, but everyone knew where Cap’s loyalties rested.

With our Gibs .

“What are you thinking about?” Liz asked, grinning at me. “You’ve got the biggest smile on your face.”

“Nothing,” I replied, still smiling. “I’m just happy.”