She rolls her eyes again, but she’s smiling. “Yeah, yeah. So did you want something from me, or did you just pull me aside to chat me up?”
I shrug. “Just wanted to see you.”
“Oh.” She blushes again, chewing at her lip nervously. She glances over her shoulder toward the locker rooms. “Well, uh... I'll shower and meet you in the car, then? You can come over for a bit if you want. My dad's still here until Wednesday, and he makes the best dinners. We're having his lasagna tonight.”
“Yeah,” I nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I’ll meet you in the car.”
She smiles, nodding before turning and jogging back toward the locker rooms.
I sigh, pushing myself off the bench and heading toward the parking lot.
39
Sweet Disposition
Molly
November, 2007
WEDNESDAY MORNING, I don’t go into school until after small break.
Lorraine stayed home for the rest of the day, too upset over saying goodbye to dad at the airport. I let Mom stay with her, who when I left was comforting her by offering ice-cream and a TV marathon.
I’ve been trying to be nicer to Mom for the last few days. She was really cool about the whole getting caught kissing Niall in school thing, and I’m trying to see everything that happened a few years ago from her pov. Her eldest daughter struggling with addiction, disappearing, and feeling like her world is crumbling. I still don’t fully forgive her for leaving, but it wasn’t like Mom fully went no contact with me. I just wouldn’t talk to her on the phone, or respond to her post-cards, or interact with her much when she visited.
I’m going to miss dad too, but I have plenty other things on my plate to distract me. Niall, my friends, Finn Marshall’s birthday part on Friday (even though his real birthday was on Monday—so was Chloe’s. What a coincidence that they share aseventeenth birthday?). But even with all these distractions, I’m still feeling a little down by the time practice wraps up.
Niall’s waiting for me in the car, as per usual. I toss my duffel bag over the center console and into the backseat of his Escort, sinking gracefully into the passenger seat.
“No JJ?” I ask, noting the absence of our usual third-wheel. Sometimes Claire stays to watch practice and rides home with us, but all this week she’s just been getting a ride with Niamh and Marissa, from Marissa’s older brother in fifth year.
Niall puts the car into gear and pulls smoothly away from the curb, rolling his shoulders into a shrug. “No. Hey, do you think he’s avoiding you?”
My brows furrow. Niall and JJ were best friends, and I knew from the pictures around Niall’s house they’d been attached at the hip since JJ was born. “Why would you think that?”
“He’s been weird all week,” he says. “And he hasn’t come over since Saturday.”
Saturday. The night of our little dinner party with our families, that JJ had, of course, invited himself to. Now that I think about it, even though he was his normal rambunctious self that night, he’s been a little off since. Him and Claire haven’t been rambling during the morning car rides, and he’s been riding home with Niall and I, but he’s not been his full-self. I’ve just been pretty caught up with my dad visiting.
“Have you talked to him?” I ask. Boy friendships have always been foreign to me. In Girl World, if one of us was acting off, we confronted each other immediately. Drama was dealt with quickly and brutally, and then we moved on. Boys dragged their feet, letting tension fester and putting off confrontation. Unless they were drunk—then they usually just punched each other, cried, and moved on.
“I asked if he was pissed at me,” Niall says. “He said he wasn’t.”
“Do you believe him?”
Niall drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a few moments before answering. “I dunno. I can't think of anything I would've done to piss him off. We never fight.”
I frown, looking out the window. “Hmm. Have you asked Claire to talk to him? I know they're close.”
Niall exhales sharply through his nose. “Yeah, but she's been weird too. It's like they're both avoiding me.”
“That's weird... Claire's seemed like her normal self to me. In school, at least.”
“Odd,” he hums, and I agree.
“Well,” he changes the subject (because I guess that’s what boys do). “Anyway. Since we were gonna be alone, and I figured you’d be down in the dumps about your dad leaving—”
“I never said that,” I interject.
