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Shannon

Over a week had passed since I last saw Johnny.

I honestly didn’t blame him for not coming back to my house because even if by some divine miracle he still wanted to see me, I doubted his parents would allow him. Mr. and Mrs. Kavanagh had to hate me now. If my son was hanging around a girl whose parents were crazy, I would hate me, too. I would want my son to stay as far away frommeas humanly possible.

For the first day, I read the four messages he had sent me until the battery in his phone went dead. I couldn’t charge it because none of us had a compatible phone charger, so I just sat there, thinking about his words until I was blue in the face.

I’m not going anywhere. And I meant it. I promise. X

Just text me when you wake up, let me know you’re okay. X

I miss you. X

Can you call me? Can I call you? Are you free to talk? X

It was at the exact moment that the phone started ringing that it died in my hands. The tsunami of devastation that had spread through my chest as I stared at the blank screen and willed it to come back to life was potent.Ithadn’t turned back on andIhadn’t heard another word from Johnny since. That was six days ago.

Joey was back at home though, making me feel a little less alone in that house. He even came with me to my hospital checkup, much to Darren’s dismay. The boys were happier—well, more content at least. I presumed they felt the same as I did: safer with Joey around. He had stayed, which was both a blessing and a curse because the tension emanating from him was almost too much to bear. To be fair, I was emanating some mighty fine tension of my own, all of it directed toward my mother, who I hadn’t spoken a single word to since the night Joey helped her to bed.

I couldn’t stand to look at her, if I was being honest. I had so much hatred and frustration festering inside of me that I didn’t trust my mouth when I was around her. Therefore, I avoided her like the plague for everyone’s sake.

“Are you ready for this?” Joey asked as he leaned against my bedroom doorframe in his BCS uniform, watching me battle with the lid on a tube of foundation. “Shan?”

Today was the first day back to school after Easter break. I glanced down at my Tommen uniform and shivered, feeling the familiar swell of anxiety creep across my skin, souring my stomach.

“No.” Sighing, I tossed the tube on my bed and then sank down beside it. “I am so unbelievablynotready for this.”

Joey watched me carefully for a long beat before exhaling heavily. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“I’m scared,” I admitted. “About what they’ll say.” I gestured to my face and the poor attempt I’d made to conceal the crusty scar that was still healing over from where Dad had split my cheek against the kitchen table. “About this.” I chewed on my lip, hesitating, before blurting out, “And aboutDad.” My voice was small. “They’ll all know, Joe.”

“Shan—” Shaking his head, Joey walked over to my bed and sank down beside me. “They won’t say anything.” Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and blew out a harsh breath. “Your face has pretty much healed up, and what hasn’t healed, you’ve covered with that war paint.”

“War paint?” I arched a brow. “It’s called makeup, Joe.” Expensive makeup. “Claire gave it to me.”

“War paint, makeup… Whatever. It’s all the fucking same to me,” he shot back with an unapologetic shrug. “Your principal knows about what happened, right?”

I nodded, knowing Darren and Mam had met with Mr. Twomey over the break.

“Then you’ll be fine,” he added, tone reassuring. “I promise.”

“I don’t know what to say if anyone asks me about Dad,” I confessed. “What if a teacher asks me?” I shook my head, feeling panicked. I felt poisoned. Like I was tainted. Going back to school, knowing that there were people that knew about what had happened was a terrifying concept. It was common knowledge around Ballylaggin, and I was freaking out. “I have no clue how to handle this.”

“You handle this with the truth,” Joey shot back sternly. “Or you just tell them to fuck off and mind their business if you don’t want to talk about it, but you don’t lie anymore, Shan. You got that? You don’t cover for that piece of shit a minute longer because you’ve donenothingwrong.” Straightening his spine, he added, “And if any one of those fuckers opens their mouth and gives you shit, I’ll come down there and sort it.”

“The truth’s hard,” I admitted quietly.

My brother nodded stiffly. “Especially when you’ve been programmed to forget it.”

I thought about his words for a moment. “Hey, Joe?”

“Yeah, Shan?”

“What are you going to say if someone asks you?”

“I’m going to tell them to fuck off and mind their business.”

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