I smack his arm. “Shut up, Niall! We’re in enough trouble.”
“I’m serious,” he straightens up. “I mean, if I’m gonna be grounded until the Leaving Cert, I’d like to know if I put in a man-of-the-match performance.”
I try to keep a straight face—I really do. I want to stay angry at him for the drinking and the lying, and the way he made me melt against him in the Art Wing and forget about all that in favor of his lips. But everything about this was way too much, and laughter bubbled out of my throat.
Within seconds, the two of us were a giggling mess, clutching our sides and trying to muffle the sound with our sleeves to try and control ourselves.
“You’re such... such an idiot,” I say through my laughter, wiping the happy tears from my eyes.
He inches closer, his smile staying in place but his eyes thoughtful. “What do I have to do to be a forgiven idiot? Because I really am sorry.”
I open my mouth to answer, but before I can the office door opens and we both snap into faux poses of solemnity. Our mothers emerge, looking strangely pleased. They’re talking in hushed, friendly tones and smiling at each other.
Mrs. Blue raises an eyebrow at Niall, and he starts to vibrate with repressed laughter again, while I do my best to look like I’ve spent the last twenty minutes in prayer.
“Right, so, we will be having a very long chat in the car, Niall Patrick,” his mother says, her voice pleasant but firm. She turns to my mother, smiling wider. “Genevieve, it was lovely to properly meet you. I’ll see you on Saturday evening, then. Is pasta alright for the girls?”
“Pasta would be wonderful,” my mom smiles, her eyes flicking to me with a look I can’t quite decipher. “Thank you, Aine.”
I follow my mother outside, to her car, my stomach twisting with dread the whole time. She doesn’t say a word until we’re both buckled in and the engine’s humming.
“So,” she says lightly, as she pulls out of her spot. “Kissing boys in school now, are we? That’s quite the social step, I’ll have to say.”
I groan, dropping my head against the cool glass of the window. “Mom, please. Just ground me and get it over with.”
“Ground you?” she laughs. “I hardly think that’s necessary. I was young once, I know how it is. And his mother and I convinced your principal we would deal with this issue at home.”
I lift my head a bit. “What does that mean?”
“We’re going to have a family dinner on Saturday.”
“A family dinner?”
“Yep,” she smiles brightly. “Our family... and his family.”
I shake my head quickly. “Mom, no, we can’t.”
“We can’t?” She looks confused. “Why not?”
“Because—” I scramble for an excuse, and realize I already have a perfect one. “Dad’s coming on Saturday, duh.”
“Oh. Right, well, I’m sure your father will be absolutely elated to meet your boyfriend while he’s here.”
“Niall isnotmy boyfriend,” I snap. The words hurt me to say almost as much as his words in the art wing hurt to hear—you’re not my girlfriend. But it was true. We weren’t together.
He wouldn’t want to be with you if he knew.
I had secrets far worse than a drinking problem or a sports injury.
“Okay, your ‘lover’ then. Your ‘paramour.’ Whatever terminology you prefer in this century.”
“I’m going to jump out of this car,” I mutter.
“You know, Molly,” she says softly, eyes still trained on the road ahead. “I’m sorry—for not being there for you the last four years, for everything that happened after Jamie left. And for just... coming back and dragging you and Lorraine to Ireland. I’m trying to be better.”
The sudden shift in tone catches me off-guard. I feel all the old, pushed down feelings bubbling up but I push them back down. Being angry or sad won’t fix anything.
“I think Lorraine likes having you around,” I finally say, staring at my lap.
