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Her breath felt like it jumped into the chewing gum-infested street. She wanted to fall to her knees to find it between the cobbles until remitting her attention to Fionn entirely.
Fionn cupped the pain in his head where blood seeped out through his fingers in vivid reds.
The man revved to swing again spurring Dennis to shout, “Hey. HEY! The guards are on their way ya’ fucking gobshite! He’s underage. You’ll be done worse for that!”
The attacker stuffed his sock back into his pocket, lifted his fallen hood and ran down Shifters Alley, where his bike was leaning against the wheelie bin. Or at least Áine thought it was his bike.
It seemed the threat of guards caused Jimmy to flee too, towards Dunnes carpark, leaving Fionn all alone, crouched over in silent pain with a hand clinging to the post box for any support in staying upright.
“Young lad, are ya’ alright?” Dennis wrapped an awkward arm across the birth of Fionn’s back to help him up. Áine followed, painfully clenching her hands not to reach out and grab him herself. She still couldn’t find her breath, having her chest silently scream for her to take even one gulp of air.
“Grand, yeah. I’m fine!” Fionn said between gasping winces.
“C’mon and we get you home,” Dennis said as she shepherded him down the street, Fionn consumed by the mess of his head while Áine walked behind with his schoolbag draped across the crease of her elbow.
Breathe, she told herself.Just breathe.
***
The car came to a slow stop outside Fionn’s centre-terraced house where grass grew through cracks of the front patio, and the tiny gate was too rusted to close.
Áine, sitting behind the passenger seat, swallowed the ringing out of her ears.
There was nothing lustful or exciting about seeing this. Seeing her dad awkwardly mention how well Fionn played in the football match last week against Mullinavat to a barely audible stream of thanks. Or how stained his school shirt was with not even a mother to wash out the blood.
It was all just . . . sad. And she knew he knew this too, her pity more potent than the pine tree air freshener swinging off the mirror.
“Are you alright from here?” Dennis asked. “I can bring you to A&E if you want, too.”
“No. Jesus no. Thanks for the lift. I owe you one.”
Fionn tried to pass him the windscreen cloth he’d been using to stop the blood.
Dennis saluted two fingers off the steering wheel to refuse it. “You owe me nothing, lad.”
This wasn’t true. Áine knew this was a new moment for Dennis to keep in his back pocket.
Fionn left, fumbling for the right key in the bunch as he approached his front door.
“Dad,” Áine said, her throat catching. “He forgot his bag.”
“Yeah? Make sure to see him in too,” he spoke through the rearview mirror to her. “Boil the kettle so he doesn’t go for the drink.”
There was something decidedly adult about this conversation she hadn’t experienced before. Adult things always seemed exciting to her. Embroiled with freedom. This just felt like an aching responsibility behind her eyes to do the exact right thing when she didn’t feel equipped.
She opened the car door and followed him.
Dennis wound down the window to call after her, “I’ll be back in a minute. Just heading around the corner for diesel.”
Áine nodded but chewed her lip. What if Fionn wouldn’t invite her in? Then she’d have to awkwardly wait outside like a rejected fool. A stalker.
“Fionn,” she called to get it out of the way.
He was just about to step inside when he looked back at her, barely, but it was enough to see the bleeding had settled.
“You forgot your school bag.”
“Oh.”
