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Giving up my bed, I took the floor and settled down for the night as the topic of conversation—and my sister’s focus—shifted from our father to a boy she was intent on feigning indifference toward.
Johnny Kavanagh.
When she told me that he was responsible for her concussion that first day, I felt something settle inside of me. Because I finally had the confirmation that what happened to her that day had, in fact, been an accident. The lad was almost mechanical in his rigidity, with impeccable manners. The Academy had him groomed into the perfect gentleman.
No way would he risk a future as bright as his on a childish stunt.
I could smell the bullshit a mile off every time she denied her very obvious feelings, and I smiled to myself as I listened to her ramble on about who I thought might be her very first crush.
Being one of those asshole older brothers I never wanted to be, I heard myself warn her off, but not because I didn’t want her to find someone.
I did.
I just didn’t want to see her get her hopes up on a fella with a future as bright as Johnny Kavanagh’s. I had no doubt that she would be watching him from the television in a few months, and call me a protective asshole, but I didn’t want to see my sister get hurt.
32
You Have to Tell Him
AOIFE
“It’s been over a week,” Casey exclaimed, sliding onto the stool next to mine at our workstation in biology on Friday. We were early for class, and with the exception of a few stragglers at the other end of the lab, we were thankfully alone. “You have to tell him, Aoife.”
Keeping my eyes trained on my pencil case, I didn’t even try to stop my hands from shaking. They hadn’t stopped since my world fell down around me. “I know.”
“And you have to go to the doctor.”
“I know.”
“I can make the appointment and go with you.”
I shook my head. “No.”
She sighed heavily. “Aoife.”
“I’m not ready, okay?” The tremor in my hands increased to the point where I couldn’t open the zip of my pencil case. “I’m just not.”
“You still have options, you know,” she said softly, reaching over to open my pencil case for me. “Fuck this country. There’s always England. We can get on a boat to Liverpool in the morning, if that’s what you want. If you want it to be over, then it can be.”
“I know,” I whispered, biting down on my lip.
“So, you have thought about it?”
“Of course I’ve thought about it.” Blinking back my tears, I nodded slowly. “It’s the best thing for both of us. I’m not stupid, Case. I know it’s what’s best in the long-term, but it’s too late for that.”
“It’s not too late,” she was quick to point out. “If we leave tomorrow—”
“No, no, it is for me, okay?” Exhaling a ragged breath, I dropped my head in my hands and buried a sob. “I’ve thought about it and I can’t do it, Case. I just can’t, okay?”
“Okay,” she conceded, tone soothing. “Okay, Aoife.”
Slowly exhaling, I concentrated on keeping my breathing even, deep and slow, and not giving in to the panic clawing at my throat.
“So, you’re going to go through with this?” she said softly. “You’re really going to have Joey Lynch’s baby?”
Words failed me and I clenched my eyes shut, barely managing to nod my head.
“And keep it?” she asked cautiously. “You’re going to keep it?”
