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“My old fella is closer to seventy,” Feely said quietly.
“Whoa,” I mused, shaking my head. “You’re probably going to be really young when they die.”
“Jesus, Gibs!” Johnny and Hugh both barked. “Filter!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Feely chuckled. “I’m well used to him.” His phone chimed then, and he quickly pulled it out of his jeans pocket and tapped at the screen.
“Who’s texting you?” I asked, leaning over the table to get a better look at his screen. Why, I had no clue. I had trouble reading on a good day, without a dozen pints in my belly.
“Gibs,” Johnny scolded, catching ahold of my shirt, and pulling me back up. “You don’t ask a fella that.”
“Nah, it’s grand,” Feely replied, tapping a few lines of a text out before sliding his phone back in his pocket. “It’s just Casey.”
“Casey?” Johnny frowned. “Who’s Casey?”
“Jesus, Cap, for such a smart fella, you have the worst observational skills.” Hugh chuckled. “She’s Aoife’s friend.”
“The wild one,” I chimed in, waggling my brows. “Feely’s been tapping her for months.”
“Gibs,” Feely groaned. “Don’t fucking say that, will you?”
“Aoife’s friend?” Johnny stared blankly. “Nope. No idea.”
“That’s because you’ve been too busy chasing rugby and Shannon to look up and see what’s happening with the rest of us.” Hugh laughed.
“That’s not entirely true,” Johnny argued. “I know plenty about what happens in your lives.”
“Hah!” I clapped his shoulder. “Good one, Johnny.”
“I fucking do!” Setting down his pint, he folded his arms across his chest and glared at the three of us. “You,” he said, beginning with Feely. “You’re eighteen, apparently in a situationship with this Casey, the youngest brother of three sisters. Your birthday is in July, and you’re a closet musician with a voice better than anyone on the radio.” Then he turned to Hugh. “You, you’re seventeen, the oldest of two kids, your birthday’s on Halloween, same as Seany’s, you’ve been with Katie since forever, and she’s your first serious girlfriend.” Finally, he turned to me and said, “And you, you’re the baby of the gang. Your birthday’s in March. You’ve never had a girlfriend because you’re in love with his sister since the beginning of time and have the attention span of a crème egg, and you’re fucking the school receptionist.” Blowing out a breath, Johnny smirked at us before saying, “Did I miss anything?”
“Only a few minor details,” Feely mused, pushing his dark hair off his face. “I’m not in a situationship with anyone, but that was impressive, Cap. And to be fair, you’re a million times better since you got with Shannon.”
“That was dreadful,” I accused, turning to gape at him. “My birthday is in February not March. I most certainly do not have the attention span of a crème egg, and I am not fucking the school receptionist.”
“And Katie and I started going out when I was in fourth year,” Hugh offered, holding a hand up. “Not since forever.”
“No, no, no,” Johnny argued. “I specifically remember you being obsessed with that girl back in second year.” He tapped his temple. “I know because you were always missing out on training when we were younger to go chasing after her.”
“Wrong girl, Cap,” Feely muttered, rubbing his brow.
“The fuck?” Johnny gaped at him before turning to me. “And your birthday’s not in March?”
“No, it is not in bloody March, you sorry excuse for a best friend,” I huffed. “The fucking cheek of you forgetting my birthday.”
“Sorry, Gibs, I could’ve sworn it was in March.” He scratched his jaw. “Why is March in my head?”
“Because Shannon’s birthday is in March,” I growled. “You pussy-whipped prick.”
“And he’s not in love with my sister, either,” Hugh interjected. “He just thinks he is.”
“Don’t you start,” I warned, turning to glare at Hugh. “I might not be smooth like the rest of ye, or a fucking mathematician like Brains over there,” I paused to point at Johnny, “but I have a heart that pumps and beats and grows feelings. I care. I feel. I love. And all of it is solely directed toward your sister.”
“Then make a fucking change, Gibs,” Hugh snapped, glowering at me. “Because I have to say, lad, if you think you’re getting anywhere near my sister while you’re sticking your dick in Dee, then you’re sorely mistaken. Claire deserves more than to get mixed up in your twisted drama and you know it.”
“Oh my Jesus. For the last time, I am not sticking my dick in Dee!” I growled, throwing my hands up in despair. “I haven’t been anywhere near that woman since fifth year.” Narrowing my eyes right back at Hugh, I snapped, “And I’ll have you know that I would never do anything to hurt your sister. I would rather peel the skin off my bones first.”
“Except that you already do a whole pile that could hurt her,” Hugh urged, tone serious. “Come on, Gibs, if Claire knew about your extracurricular escapades, it would rip the heart clean out of her chest.”
