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“I remember it like it was yesterday,” he said, smiling fondly at the memory. “It was Claire’s first day in junior infants, and she had come home in floods of tears. I was out front kicking a ball around with Hughie when she stumbled off the school bus at the end of our road, and all I could see was a mountain of blond curls as she raced up the driveway toward us.”
“Why was she crying?”
“Apparently, some little shit in senior infants told her that she had to be his girlfriend.” Gibsie threw his head back and laughed. “And when she told him that she didn’t want to be his girlfriend, he pulled her hair and told the class that she ate bogies.”
“What a little prick.” I chuckled.
“She was so upset, lad.” Gibsie grinned. “Honest to God, you’ve never seen devastation like it.”
“What did her brother do?”
“Hughie told her to tell him to fuck off.”
“I’m guessing that’s not what you did?”
Eyes twinkling with mischief, Gibsie opened his mouth to answer me when Kav came bulldozing into the kitchen with a face like thunder.
“I’ve a question, Joey the hurler.”
The sheer fucking condescension dripping from his tone had my back up in an instant. “Go for it, Mister Rugby.”
“I need a minute, Gibs,” Kav snapped, and without a word, his dopey pal strolled out of the kitchen, closing the door behind himself. “Now.” Kav folded his arms across his chest and glowered at me. “Who the fuck is putting their hands on your sister?”
Well, shit.
No one ever had the balls to ask such a forthright question. Nobody ever asked because they didn’t want to get involved, and even if they did ask, they didn’t want the truth. That’s how it had been for as far back as I could remember. With teachers, trainers, neighbors… Hell, even the Gards didn’t want to know.
The only person in our lives that had ever taken the time to dig deeper, to push further, was Molloy.
Until now.
“Yeah, you heard me,” Kav pushed, unwilling to back the fuck down like I was used to. “I found her on her hands and knees at school on Friday, throwing her guts up,” he continued to say. “Something’s happening to her, and I want to know what it is.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to fix it.”
“Why?”
“Because no one should be putting their goddamn anything on her!” he snarled, losing that perfectly polished exterior. “Fuck!”
“What did she tell you?”
“That she fell over Legos.” He threw his hands up in frustration. “Fucking Legos.”
“If Shannon says that’s what happened, then that’s what happened.”
“No—no!” he as good as roared, losing his cool completely as he held up a hand and battled to control his temper. Something I was all too familiar with. “Don’t give me that shit. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her with marks. What’s happening to her?”
Leaning back on my stool, I studied the lad who had injected himself into my sister’s life—and potentially all of our lives. He was standing in front of me, asking for the answers I couldn’t give.
The helpless tone in his voice struck a chord with me.
Because I knew that tone.
I knew that desperation.
I felt it daily.
