Amelia stuck her tongue out at Nathan. “She’s not a stranger, Nathan. You know that better than anyone.”
A flash of anger clouded Nathan’s features but passed just as quickly. Amelia gave him a strange, smug look. Once again, I felt as though I was missing something.
“Yeah, well, Cúchulainn wouldn’t be that easy to get by.”
Out of nowhere he put his little fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. I jumped in fright, almost falling off the swing.
“What the hell? Warn people before you do that right next to them!”
“Sorry,” he said, laughing as something came racing toward us with a bark. Cúchulainn turned out to be another wolfhound, even larger than King. This one was fawn coloured, a beautiful looking dog with eyes that were wilder than King’s. He watched me warily for a few seconds. Sniffing the air, he stalked over to me and let me pet him. Nathan’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Did that just happen?” he asked Amelia who was in a fit of laughter at his face. “What are you doing to my dogs?” he said to me, but he looked kind of pleased.
“They’re just clever puppies. Aren’t you Cúchulainn? Oh, yes, you are,” I gushed. “Great name by the way.”
“Our grandparents lived in Ireland before. They like the old myths and legends,” Amelia said.
“Hit me. See what he does.” Nathan came closer and patted his jaw.
“Nathan!” Amelia sounded horrified.
“I won’t let him hurt her. I just want to see what he does.”
I moved my arm to thump his while he was distracted by Amelia, but he grabbed my wrist without even looking around.
“Ouch,” I hissed. Cúchulainn gave a low growl, but he wasn’t directing it at me. He was warning Nathan to let go.
“Sorry,” he said, quickly letting go of my wrist. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
As soon as he let go, Cúchulainn settled down again. Nathan stared at me as if I was a complete freak of nature. Amelia jumped off her swing.
“I have to tell Opa about Cúchulainn. He’ll never believe me!”
She ran toward the house, looking as if she might burst with excitement. I rubbed my wrist absent-mindedly, wondering how he had caught my arm so quickly without looking.
“Are you okay?” Nathan asked in concern. “I’m sorry. I can’t get used to…” His voice trailed off.
“Used to what?” I asked, curious.
“Nothing. I just… I really didn’t mean to grab you. It was reflexes or something.”
“It’s fine.”
Nathan took my arm, gently this time. He peered at the tiny red mark with a worried look on his face.
“Seriously, it’s fine now,” I reassured him. He stroked the inside of my wrist with his thumb, all the while looking from me to his dogs.
“That was too weird,” he said. “He’s never acted like that with me before.”
“He just got a fright or something. Joey’s dog gets all jumpy whenever Tammie laughs. Um… Nathan?” I gestured toward my wrist with my free hand.
“Oh. Sorry,” he said, letting go. He clenched his fists, stretching out his fingers and then closing them again. “I’m glad you came over,” he said at last. “Even if you did turn my dogs against me.”
Amelia returned with her grandparents. Lia scolded Nathan for wanting to test out the dog’s reactions on me, but she didn’t sound surprised at all.
“I warned you,” she said under her breath, but I heard her.
A family row seemed to be building up, so I cleared my throat and told them I should get going.
They turned their attention to me then, all except Nathan, who seemed quite relieved. I explained why I had to go, but they didn’t seem to get it.
“He’s really strict, Opa. She’ll get into trouble if she stays,” Nathan said at last.
“Okay,” Jakob conceded. “But Nathan will walk you home. I would not like my girl walking the streets alone.”
“It’s okay; it’s safe here. I promise, there’s no need for anyone to take me home.” I didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or annoyed by how little confidence adults had in my ability to take care of myself.
“It’s all right,” Nathan said. “I’ll take Cúchulainn with me for a walk. He needs the exercise. It’s no hassle, Perdita.”
They all insisted then. I found it difficult to say no to so many people at the same time, so I ended up agreeing just to make them happy.
“Don’t worry,” Nathan whispered to me as we left. “If you want me to go, then I will, but they won’t let you leave until they get their own way. Trust me.” I nodded, waving goodbye to the others. Nathan had Cúchulainn on a lead, but the dog was so big that I didn’t think a lead would stop him if he decided to run off.
“I’m bringing him for a walk anyway, so I might as well see you home,” Nathan said after a moment of silence. “If you really don’t want me to, I can go a different way, but it’s no problem for me, okay?”
I nodded; even though he blew hot and cold, I liked being around him, so I wasn’t going to remind him he had already taken the dog for a walk. Cúchulainn sniffed at everything, but he was pretty obedient. He didn’t even pull on the lead.
“I want my dog to be like that,” I said, half to myself.
“Like what?”
“Well-trained like that. He’s very good.”
“Are you getting a dog?”
“Maybe. Joey’s dog is supposed to be having a litter. They said I can have one.”
“I could help you train it if you liked.”
That made me smile. “Thanks, but you’ll probably be gone by the time I have a dog.”
“Why’s that?”
“Oh,” I said, blushing. “I just meant that you move around a lot, so Amelia said, and Dolly may not even be expecting this time, so you might have moved on by the time she has a pup.”
“We’re not planning on moving, but if we’re here—and you want help, that is—I could show you some stuff. Give you tips or something. Whenever.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.”
Cúchulainn acted up as we passed the woods. The hackles on the back of his neck stood up, and he gave a low growl. I looked around and frowned, seeing an all too familiar red-haired figure across the road, walking in the other direction. If I didn’t know better, I would think the man was following me. Nathan nudged me. Distracted, I realised he had been speaking to me.
“Sorry, what?”
“I said, it was probably just a rabbit or mouse or something.”
“Oh, right. Poor mouse wouldn’t stand a chance against your monster dog.”
“Wolfhounds aren’t really aggressive. Just tall.”
“I’ve seen taller,” I said, remembering the night before.
“Yeah, right,” he scoffed.
“Really. Last night, I saw a huge scruffy thing outside my house. Looked way bigger than Cúchulainn here.”
Nathan frowned. “That’s odd.”
“Not really,” I said, but my gut was clenched with tension because a whole lot of things felt odd to me.
Cúchulainn gave a little yelp and dashed off, pulling Nathan around in a circle. I tried not to laugh as he untangled himself from the lead. He swore at the dog, but his laughter ruined the effect.
“So, are you going to the party next weekend?” he asked.
“Erm, I don’t usually get invited to parties,” I said with a small laugh.
“Oh,” he said, frowning. “I’m pretty sure Aaron said he was going to invite you.”
“Aaron? We’re not friends.”
“So? Maybe he likes you. Is that a bad thing?” He looked at me with an interest that confused me.
“Aaron Hannigan doesn’t like girls. He likes trying to get girls to like him. And he is so not interested in me. Never has been, never will be, and vice versa.”
Nathan smiled. “So you’re best buddies then.”
“I don’t think you get what things are like around here. If he
’s nice to me, it’s because I’m friends with your sister. That’s all. He would have never been caught dead in the cinema with any of us before you arrived.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re the freaks. We’re not popular. Get it?” I laughed.
“Well, I think you’re cool,” he said with a wink.
“You have to be nice to your little sister’s friend. Or she’ll rat on you,” I teased.
“I’m not scared of her. She is a bit of a brat by the way.”
I smacked his arm. “She is not! She’s lovely.”
He grabbed my waist and squeezed, managing to get a ticklish part. I squirmed away, laughing. He reached for me again, but I skipped out of his way.
For an instant, I forgot all about the way he sometimes acted and enjoyed being around him. When it was just us, everything was cool.
As if she could sense my momentary happiness, Dawn turned the corner ahead of us, accompanied by Abbi. I couldn’t help groaning. Nathan grinned at me in amusement. Dawn hurried toward us when she saw him, managing to give me one of her trademark sneers along the way.
“Hey, Nate,” she said, overly chirpy. She was never like that when he wasn’t around. “Whatcha doing? Babysitting?”
I scowled at her, but it slid off my face as soon as Nathan casually draped his arm around my shoulder. Abbi tried not to laugh.
“What are you on about, Dawn?” I wasn’t sure what Nathan was playing at, but Dawn was obviously not impressed. Her hands on her hips, she looked me up and down in disgust.
“Whatever you’re into,” she said as snidely as she could manage. Then she snapped out of it and beamed at Nathan. “I think I’m the one who needs to be walked home by you after everything I’ve gone through today.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I headed out to meet Abbi and, get this, there was a dead rabbit in my garden!” She paused for dramatic effect.
Nathan glanced at me, but my heart had started pounding. “Okay?”
“I don’t mean just dead. I mean, like, its head was ripped clean off. So disgusting. I’m literally traumatised for life.”
Nathan made a face. “Yuck. Maybe it was a fox or something.”
“Don’t say that,” she exclaimed. “I’ll never be able to sleep knowing there are wild animals outside.” She opened her eyes as wide as possible. “My life could be in danger!”
Abbi rolled her eyes and moved on, dragging a resistant Dawn after her. A low growl rumbled in Cúchulainn’s throat. Dawn edged backward, her eyes widening as she tried to swallow her panic. Nathan let Cúchulainn take one step toward her. That was all it took. Dawn shrieked and tripped over herself in her hurry to get away.
“See you two at school,” Abbi said with a wink. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she added before hurrying after Dawn.
Nathan didn’t even wait until we were out of earshot to start laughing.
“Eh, what’s all this about?” I said, pointing at his arm which was still around me.
“Sorry,” he said, distancing himself. “She’s just so annoying. All she does is say horrible things, and she can’t take no for an answer. She drives me mad sometimes, so I thought I’d do the same to her. Was that mean?”
“A bit.”
He laughed again. “Good. She’s awful.”
I felt disappointed he used me to get his own back at someone.
“You seem a lot more cheerful now,” I said.
“People depress me,” he said, his mood suddenly switching again. I raised an eyebrow. “Not you, but sometimes that house,”—he shook his head—“My family can be a bit much sometimes, you know? They expect me to be a certain way, and I can’t. It’s like everyone wants me to be something I’m not.”
“I get it. Mine can make me feel like my head is going to explode.”
“Yeah, same here. I can’t be myself around them. I always feel like I’m playing a part or something.”
That hit me hard. It was exactly how I felt most of the time. “I know what you mean. I wish they’d let me be me, or at least let me find out who me is,” I said. “They’re so busy trying to make me like them that they can’t see anything else.”
“Exactly,” he said. “I don’t even know you properly, and you get me better than they do. Better than anyone does.”
I had to laugh. “I don’t think I get you very often. You confuse me more than anyone else.”
He glanced at me as if to see if I was serious. “You look at me as if you know me,” he said, hesitant.
“Do I?” I bowed my head, feeling shy.
“You do. Sometimes I’m afraid you know all my secrets.”
I grinned up at him. “Are they that bad?”
“Depends on who you ask.”
“They can’t be that bad.”
“Maybe they would shock you. Scare you even.” He didn’t smile.
I studied him for a moment, running my mind over the worst possible things I could think of. “I don’t think so. If your big ass dog didn’t scare me…”
He smiled. “I wish I could tell you all my secrets so.”
“Nobody’s stopping you.”
“Ah. Except for me,” he said in a curiously sad tone of voice.
“Well, you’re the only boss of you,” I said, trying to sound light-hearted. “I live over there.” I pointed to my house.
“That was quick. I guess I should probably leave you here in case your Dad is home, yeah?”
I nodded. “Thanks, but yeah, exactly. Thank you for walking me home.”
“My pleasure.” He bit his lip. “I better go. See you tomorrow?”
“I suppose so,” I said, but I waited. He lingered for a few seconds, as if he didn’t want to leave, but his dog seemed eager to follow a scent, so he waved goodbye. As soon as he walked away my mood bottomed out.
Gran ambushed me as soon as I walked in the door. She was one of those nosy neighbours who spend way too much time peering through curtains in case they miss something.
“Was that Amelia’s brother? Isn’t he a cute one! I always knew you had good taste.”
“Gran, don’t. I’m not in the mood for your teasing. His grandparents made him walk me home. That’s all.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Really, Gran,” I said, a little upset because I was actually telling the truth.
Gran hugged me and said nice, reassuring things until I smiled. We sat down together and had a chat about what was going on in my life. I didn’t tell her how often I thought about Nathan, or the fact I dreamt about him all time, or even how much better I felt whenever I was close to him.
I did tell her how Tammie and Joey seemed to be getting closer, and I felt left out. How Amelia was trying to push me and Nathan together, but it wasn’t working. I even admitted how much I liked him, and how hurt I was when he kept playing hot and cold with me.
“Ah, mo ghrá. Didn’t I ever tell you that’s how teenage boys are?”
I shook my head, feeling sorry for myself.
She smiled at me. “You know, I remember your mother crying in my arms when she wasn’t much older than you because your Daddy laughed at her in front of everyone. When they were alone, he acted like he loved her, but when his friends were around, oh, he was awful to her.”
“Really? My Dad did that?”
“Of course he did. He was a teenage boy, wasn’t he? They take longer to mature. Girls know what they want years before boys ever do.”
That made me laugh. I couldn’t imagine my Dad being immature. “So what did you tell her?”
“I said, give him a few months, and he’ll be the one following you around. And he was! She played it cool, of course. Then he practically camped outside our door. Your grandfather wasn’t impressed. He didn’t think she was old enough for a boyfriend, and he thought your father was too old because he was already in college. Your grandfather was a strict man.”
“Was he?”
“Oh, yes. He would
n’t let Stephen into the house, and he forbade your mother from seeing him. Of course, that had the opposite effect. She liked him all the better for standing up to your grandfather. She started sneaking out to see him. Her father went crazy. He even locked her in her room.”
My eyes grew wide. I didn’t know any of this. “And what happened then?”
My Gran’s eyes dimmed as she remembered. “She didn’t come home from school one day. We were mad with worry. We didn’t know what was happening until she rang us to say they had eloped, and they weren’t coming back.”
“Wow. That was awful.”
Gran nodded. “Your grandfather… well, he wasn’t the same after that. He was heartbroken because she had been his little pet all of her life. She refused to visit, rarely contacted us at all. Eighteen months later, he had a heart attack and died. She turned up shortly after the funeral. You were with her. Just a tiny baby. I didn’t even know I was a grandmother until then. Your father had stayed behind. He couldn’t miss his classes. We had a lovely few days together. Like the old days again. Then I woke up one morning, and you were screaming your head off for a feed. She was gone.”
I squeezed Gran’s hand. Her eyes had misted over. She cleared her throat and carried on, as if she had to finish the story.
“She rang me the next day to tell me she couldn’t cope with being married. Being a mother. She wanted her own chance at life. She wanted to go back to school and be somebody.” Gran laughed harshly. “She was always selfish, but I never imagined… I had to ring your father and let him know what happened. He was distraught. He loved your mother so much. He needed to stay in school. I wanted to get to know my grandchild, and you know the rest.”
I gazed at her sympathetically, not knowing what to say. I had never really thought about how bad it must have been for Gran to lose her daughter like that.
“You know, her favourite book growing up was about a little girl called Perdita. She was a sad little character with no real family or friends, always forgotten about. I often thought of it. Every single time you tried to hide away from the limelight.” She gestured as if batting away the past. “So. Your mother. I tried to make sure history wouldn’t repeat itself. To make sure your father didn’t drive you away too, but I suppose I haven’t done the best job, have I?”