I dug it out of my trousers pocket, and held out my closed fist to her. Molly’s movements were sloth-like as she held out her open palm for me to drop it in. Naturally, I deliberately set it down in her open-faced hand so that our skin touches.
Claire is finally looking at me now too, with JJ. He’s the only one who doesn’t seem confused—he just looks like he wishes he had some popcorn.
“You came to give her a necklace?” Claire asks, looking at Molly.
“He fixed it,” she mumbles, though I barely hear her and I’m not sure any of them do.
I look around at all the confused faces like I can’t imagine why they would possibly be put-off by my sudden presence. “What? Can’t a lad sit with his sister and her lovely friends?”
Claire leans across Molly in her chair, feeling the back of her hand to my forehead. “Y’alright, Niall?”
“I’m grand, Claire-Bear.”
Molly goes back to reading the book she’s had open in front of her, ignoring my presence. I noticed she shoved the necklace in the pocket of her school-bag by her feet, instead of putting it back on.
Maybe I should have messed with it so it would break again and she would need me to—okay, I’m getting a bit psycho desperate here.
“What’re ya reading then?” I ask, nudging her elbow with mine and trying to steer my thoughts to a more normal track.
She glances at me for a fraction of a second—a flash of blue that feels like a bucket of ice water—before looking back at the page. “A book.”
“Ah,” I nod. “Informative. So does the hero win the girl in the end, or is it one of those miserable ones?”
Silence.
“Hopefully not a cliffhanger. Hate those.”
Okay, so this topic is getting me NOWHERE. I will try again. “O’Shea thinks you’re doing well in my position. You know I don’t mind switching things around every now and then when I’m back to playing—you know, if you wanna keep it, or take turns or whatever.”
She just shrugs, the dismissive movement stinging more than a slap to the face would’ve. It’s killing me not to stand up and screamTELL ME WHAT I DID WRONG SO I CAN FIX IT.
You know, maybe I should try that just to say I did.
By the time the lunch bell rang, I’d gotten nowhere closer to the girl who’d stayed with my drunk arse until I fell asleep or who’d made me feel worth a second chance.
Molly was out of her seat before the bell’s sound even had time to fate, grabbing her book and her bag, and nearly knocking her chair over in her haste to flee the canteen.
“Hold that.” I shove my tray at JJ, rushing after her.
“For the love of—!”
Molly’s fast—I know that, of course, from sharing the pitch with her. I’m right on her heels, trailing her through the crowded hallways, dodging first-years and side-stepping groups of girls crowded in the hall. She turns a sharp corner, heading toward the Art Wing, and I follow her into the corridor. There’s no lockers in this hall, just paint-decorated walls, and it’s empty save for the two of us.
“Molly!” I call, jogging now to close the gap between us as she speed walks. “Molly, will you stop for a second? I’m fixing to talk to you!”
She spins around so fast her caramel coloured hair—all loose and wavy today, parted down the center—whips across her face. “Stop following me, Niall! Just leave it alone!”
I don’t let her speed-walk away again. I try to be gentle about it, but I grab her wrist to spin her back around to me. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve been acting like I’ve got the plague for the last two days.”
She yanks her arm away, and I feel a sharp twinge of guilt as she rubs at her wrist. “I don’t have aproblem. You’re the one with the problem, Niall.”
“A problem? Me? You’re the one ignoring me for no reason. How am I the one with the problem?”
“Where should I start Niall—the drinking problem, or the lying problem?”
I feel all the blood from my face drain down to my feet and my fingertips, my body turning numb. “What?”
“Don’t play the gormless idiot, it doesn’t suit you.”
