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“Yeah, well, I don’t see her like that.”
Lie.
Lie.
Barefaced lie.
“She’s just a friend.”
More lies.
“That’s it, Ma.”
“Do you honestly think you can sell me that shite, Johnny Kavanagh?” Mam shot back, lips twitching. “I’m your mother. I brought you into this world, and I know every single time you tell me a lie.”
“I am not lying,” I lied.
“You’re lying to me right now.”
“I am fucking not.”
“It’s okay if you do, love,” Mam said in a reassuring tone.
“We’re friends,” I bit out. “That’s it.”
“But you like her?” Mam asked after a long pause of silence.
I turned to look at her. “What?”
“Shannon,” Mam filled in, tone gentle and coaxing. “You like her.”
I shook my head and exhaled heavily, making no move to respond. This conversation was beyond disturbing.
“Just tread carefully and exercise patience. She’s younger than you, and as I’m sure you’re more than aware, you need to move at her pace.”
“Ma, please.” I leaned my head back and sighed. “Just give it a rest.”
“All I’m trying to say is be careful,” Mam replied. “Do not break her, Johnny.” She cupped my cheek and smiled sadly. “Not when she already seems fractured.”
“Don’t worry,” I muttered. “I’ve no intention of going there with her.”
“Going there with her?” Mam questioned. “Where’s there?”
“A relationship,” I bit out. “Feelings and shite.”
“Oh, there.” Mam was quiet for a long moment before saying, “Are you sure you’re not already there, love?”
Christ, I hoped not. For both our sakes.
“She’s fifteen years old,” I decided to throw out there, unwilling to let go of my annoyance at her meddling. “You get that, don’t you?”
Mam’s eyes widened. “I thought she was sixteen?”
“No, Ma, she’s fifteen,” I hissed.
“No, Johnny,” Mam replied, brows furrowed. “I’m pretty sure she’s sixteen.”
My mouth fell open.
