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“Ah, he’s harmless.” Mrs. Allen laughed. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly, would you, Brian?”

“No, the flies are grand because his issue is withme,” Gibsie grumbled. “Isn’t it, Brian?” The cat hissed and Gibsie leapt behind me. “You’re going to have to do something about his behavior,” he warned his mother. “I don’t feel safe in my home anymore.”

“Anyway, I better get going,” I announced, clearing my throat. I was fond of Gibsie’s mother and always enjoyed watching Gibsie’s cat tear strips out of him, but knowing Shannon was directly across the street was making me anxious. “Thanks for having me, Mrs. Allen.”

“Anytime, Johnny,” his mother replied, waving me off. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“I’m going with him, Mam,” Gibsie told her as he hurried after me, narrowly avoiding a swipe of the paw from their cat. “I’ll be home later.”

“Of course you are,” she called after us. “Behave yourself, Bubba.”

“Keep your head,” Gibsie instructed when we stepped outside and he closed the door behind him. “Justtalkto her. Don’t go in all guns blazing like you did earlier.”

“Iwillkeep my head,” I grumbled.

“I mean it,” he shot back. “No talking shit about her brother.”

“I don’t do that,” I snapped, flustered. “But I swear to god, lad, if I have to look at her with one more bruise, I’m the one who’s going to be in Cork prison, not her da. He’ll be in a fucking graveyard with his son beside him if either of them puts their hands on her again.”

32

Ladder in My Tights

Shannon

“There’s movement on the western front,” Claire announced from her perch on the windowsill in her bedroom. “The front door’s opening—slowly. Nope, it’s closing again. Oh wait, it’s opening again. Make a decision, dammit! Oh wait, I can see one teenage male—no, make that two. They’re both together, no surprises there. B2 is locking the front door. He’s saying something to B1, and they’re both pushing each other. Looks like they’re arguing… Oh, oh, they’re walking toward his car now… No, no, they’ve changed course. They’re crossing the road. Getting closer, closer, closer—”

“Claire!” I choked out, panicking.

“Shh—” She held a hand up and pointed to her bedroom door. “Just wait for it.”

Ding-dong.

She grinned. “Looks like they’ve come to play with the teddies.”

“Bananas in Pyjamasreferences?” I laughed, unable to stop myself. “Really?”

“Hey—” Claire shrugged, grinning. “If the shoe fits.”

“What do I do?” I asked, worrying my lip. Everything had gone to hell in the car park at school, and Johnny hadn’t spoken a single word to me the entire drive to Claire’s house. When Gibsie pulled into his driveway, I had walked across the road with Claire to her house and Johnny had stayed with Gibsie. I didn’t know what to do or make of it. I had no experience in dealing with this sort of thing. “Do you think he’s mad?”

“No,” Claire replied, rolling her eyes. “I think he thinksyou’remad.” She tilted her head to one side, studying me carefully. “Are you mad?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what I am.”

“It’s okay if you are. We all sort of railroaded you with Darren earlier.” Scrunching her nose up, Claire flicked at a piece of fluff on her pajama shorts before adding, “But he put his hands on you, and that’s kind of a red-flag deal to us.”

“Darren wouldn’t hurt me,” I heard myself say for the millionth time in the space of a few hours. “Not like that. He’s just… He’s worried about Mam and the kids…and my dad.”Because he’s still out there.

“Yeah, I know.” Letting her feet fall from the windowsill to the floor, Claire stood up and stretched her arms over her head. Her pale curls, held back from her face with a clip, flowed down her back like vibrant, golden sunshine. She was just so beautiful with her long legs and toned curves that it made me feel like a little boy alongside her. “I know he wouldn’t ‘hurt you’ hurt you, and I’m so sorry for making a scene,” she added, tone guilty. “But you have to see where we were coming from. You kept everything inside for so long, buried so many secrets about what was going on at home, that it’s hard to trust you.”

I flinched from her words and Claire’s eyes widened. “I don’t mean it in a bad way,” she hurried to soothe. “I trust you one million percent with all my secrets and everything, I swear. I’m just saying that when it comes to your family, we’re all a little wary.”

“I get it.” Shifting on her bed so that I was sitting cross-legged and facing her, I let out a defeated sigh. “It’s just a mess.”

“With Darren?” she asked, eyes warm and laced with sympathy. “Or in general?”

“All of the above,” I admitted. “I don’t think Darren’s coping with being back home.” Guilt churned inside of me. “You saw just how well Joey’s ‘coping’ with life, Tadhg has morphed into a walking hormone, Sean can barely string two words together—and he’s wetting the bed every night. Mam is being… Well, she’s just the definition of a mess, and Dad is…” Cringing, I added, “The only one that seems to be coping is Ollie, and he’snine.”

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