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“Perhaps. I have to take care of things here. If you take him, you’ll be responsible for him. Are you sure you want to do this? Willshe?”
Kindness looked down on the boy and smiled. “I’m not leaving him behind.” Angry voice melted away along with the sounds of crying and pleading in the background. “It’s okay, kid. You’re safe now. I promise. I’m taking you home.”
Hot tears rolled down the boy’s cheeks, but oddly enough, the shaking finally stopped.
Chapter 1
Margo
I only realisedI was staring into space when a teenage boy loudly cleared his throat right next to me. Practically jumping right out of my skin, I promptly dropped my bag of groceries then watched in dismay as the contents spilled onto the road.
“Damn it.” I bent to save a loaf of bread from being squashed by a car. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry.” He knelt next to me on the street. “I’ll pick them up.”
I glanced at him. He looked close to my age, his cheeks naturally flushed and covered with freckles from being outside. And people back home thought Dubliners never left their houses. “Thanks, but I have it.”
He stopped reaching for the milk that thankfully hadn’t exploded and leaned back to watch me scramble for the rest of the food. The corners of his light brown eyes crinkled with humour, but there was wariness there, too. I was used to that, lately. “You know, there are better things to look at around here.”
I shot a quick glance at the empty field I had been ogling. Embarrassingly, I had no idea how long I had zoned out. Even worse, I had less of a cluewhereI was. What kind of idiot got lost on the way back from the local shop?
“I’m sure there is.” I straightened, desperately trying to remember how I had gotten to the field.
The boy stood, too, staring at me as though he were trying to figure something out. Unnervingly, he didn’t even try to hide the fact he was gaping at me. That, I wasn’t used to.
I pulled my beanie lower over my left ear just to give my free hand something to do. “Um, any idea where Hazelwood Avenue is?”
He pointed across the road. “Second turn left, then take the next right. Just after Hazelwood Drive.” He grinned, and I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me. “If you hit Hazelwood Terrace, you’ve gone too far.”
“Thanks.” I looked back at the field and narrowed my eyes. If I could just figure out what triggered my little dazes…
“You can’t go over there,” the boy said gruffly.
I looked at him in surprise before realising I had taken a few steps toward the field without even noticing. Rattled, I took a step toward the boy instead. He automatically took two steps back.Right. “Because you say so?” I said more harshly than I intended.
He folded his arms across his chest, an odd look on his face. “Because it’s private property.”
My cheeks warmed. Of course that’s what he meant. “Second left then a right. Got it.” I sprinted across the road, earning myself a beep from a passing car.
“Wait!” the boy called out. “Do you live around here?”
“Just moved in!” I waved, desperate to get away. Without my best friend doing all the talking, I was apparently incapable of even holding a conversation with another human being.
Then again, I had bigger problems. Figuring out where I now lived being one of them.
The road I had just crossed was large enough to be one of the main routes out of town, but I had been outside a tiny corner shop on a narrow road—I checked my watch—thirtyminutes ago. Probably not long enough for my parents to worry, but still a scary amount of time to mentally check out.
“See you around!” the boy shouted.
His accent was odd. Definitely not Irish, never mind from Dublin. His wasn’t the first voice that had stood out to me all day. Maybe my strong Wexford accent wouldn’t be so noticeable in my new school. I took one final glance over my shoulder. He was standing there, staring at the empty field, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Maybe there wasn’t anything better to look at after all.
I followed his directions and tried to place myself, wondering if he had been joking when each turn I took led me to what looked like the exact same row of houses. But finally, I caught sight of the familiar moving van parked outside our new house. I hurried over then stepped through the hip-sized gate—and the tiny square of grass that apparently qualified as a garden—and gazed up at our ugly new house in disgust.
My parents came outside, laughing together as they made another furniture run. They looked like two halves of a whole, fitting together perfectly because they knew each other’s steps so well. Mam’s dark brown curls kept flying in front of her glasses. Dad’s hair was speckled grey, the brown rapidly losing the fight to age, but it somehow suited him. Their fingers were entwined, and a different kind of regret seeped into my chest. They put on a good show, but if it weren’t for me, they’d still be in their old comfortable lives, secure in the knowledge they had permanent work and friends to fall back on. I had ruined everything, and if I didn’t figure out what the hell was wrong with me soon, then I’d probably do it again.
Mam caught me looking miserable and let go of Dad to pull me into a hug. I had been taller than her since my thirteenth birthday, and had outgrown Dad by half an inch by my sixteenth, but her favourite citrus scent reminded me of home, so I leaned into her like a small child seeking comfort.
“Margo, it’s not so bad.” She pulled back to take a good look at my face. “I know you’ll miss home, but you’ll have everything you need here. And I promise you that it’s quiet, not exactly bustling.”
