I stood by the sink, washing my hands then looked up. Kirsty and several of her friends were watching me, and those hairs stood up even further. I was outnumbered. She eyeballed me as she chewed on a piece of gum, then slowly pulled it out of her mouth. Without a word, she stepped forward and mashed it into the back of my head.

  “What the hell?” I exclaimed and turned around to face her.

  “Stay away from Dylan.”

  “Or what? You’ll put more gum in my hair? You’re disgusting.”

  She smirked and started to back away. “Good luck getting it out, slut.”

  Her friends snickered and followed her out, while I tried to contain my rapidly growing temper. I wasn’t one to lose my cool, but then again, nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I was too bland a target for bullying. I blended into the background. But not anymore. Not with Dylan O’Dea as my boyfriend.

  I tried to pull the gum from my hair with some tissue, but it only made matters worse. I needed help. Sliding my phone from my pocket, I quickly sent Sam an SOS. He showed up minutes later, arching a what the fuck are you looking at? brow at a student who glared at him for being in the girls’ bathroom.

  “Oh my God, that little bitch,” he said on a gasp when he saw my hair.

  “Is it really bad?” I asked, unable to see the full extent of the damage.

  “It’s bad, but fixable. She’s just a jealous cow. That’s why she did it.”

  “I know that. I just hate this sort of thing. You know I’m a pacifist.”

  Sam grinned. “Yeah, unless you’re defending me. Then you’re a crazy mofo who’d claw somebody’s eyes out.”

  “Well, yeah,” I allowed. “But that’s a special circumstance.”

  “Okay, I think we may have to tie it up until we get home. If we rub some peanut butter, or maybe a spoonful of vegetable oil in, it’ll come out nicely.”

  “Ugh,” I groaned. “Kirsty’s saliva is gonna be in my hair all day.”

  “I know, but there’s nothing else for it. I promise I’ll get this gunk out as soon as we get home.”

  “You’re a lifesaver,” I said, thanking him.

  “Come on, let’s go have something to eat before lunch is over.”

  I nodded and followed him out. On our way to the cafeteria, we passed by Shane. Unlike usual, he wasn’t scowling at Sam, but grinning. However, much like usual, he threw an insult at him.

  “Hey fag.”

  “Hey dickface,” Sam shot back.

  “Suck any cocks today?” Shane retorted.

  “Why? You interested?” Sam asked back and Shane grinned wider as he continued down the hall.

  “Okay, that was . . . bizarre.”

  “I discovered it’s best to play him at his own game. Actually, I think he likes it.”

  I arched a brow. “What? Like a sadist who enjoys victims that fight back?”

  Sam made a face like he was thinking about it. “Hmm, maybe.”

  “It’s weird.”

  “You think I don’t know that? Every time I promise myself I’m not going to talk to him anymore, I’m replying to his texts five minutes later. There’s something seriously wrong with me.”

  “No, there isn’t. You’re just enjoying having someone be interested in you. It’s not your fault your admirer is incapable of normal, healthy interactions. Is that how he talks to you all the time?”

  Sam shook his head. “Only when other people are around.”

  “And when you’re alone?”

  He chewed on his lip. “When we’re alone we don’t do much talking.”

  “So, it’s all . . . sexual?” I whispered.

  “Basically.”

  “Have you had sex with him?”

  “Not yet.”

  “That means you’re going to.”

  “No, it doesn’t. But even if I do, you don’t need to worry. I don’t have feelings for him. I just like this whole secret tryst we have going on. It’s exciting.”

  I studied him worriedly. Sam might’ve convinced himself he hadn’t developed feelings, but I wasn’t so sure. I’d been smitten with Dylan before we kissed. Before we had sex. But once he’d touched my body, kissed me, every feeling under the sun was involved, and I thought Sam would be the same.

  Unfortunately, I struggled finding words to express my concern. “Just be careful. Okay?”

  “I’m always careful. But seriously, Ev, you should be happy for me. For the first time in ages, I actually feel excited about something. I feel like I could go out into the world one day and find someone to love. Aren’t you glad I won’t spend the rest of my life alone?”

  “That was never going to happen. You just think that way because of where we live, but go ten minutes on a bus and you’re in gay mecca. You’ve just never ventured outside of this little bubble we live in, that’s all.”

  “Ten minutes on a bus, eh? When we turn eighteen you have to promise to come to all the gay bars with me. All of them.”

  I chuckled. “’Course I will. Wouldn’t want to miss out on all that dancing.”

  “Don’t forget the chance to ogle gorgeous, sexually non-threatening men,” Sam added with a wink as we entered the lunchroom.

  Dylan, Amy, and Conor sat at a table, talking and eating. Sam and I approached, and I took the empty seat next to Dylan. I felt those hairs on the back of my neck tingling again and frowned. Just across the room, the boys Dylan had been suspended for fighting with eyed me in a way I found unsettling. Or maybe they were eyeing Dylan. Either way, it made me feel uncomfortable.

  I tried to ignore them as I peeled open my sandwich. Conor shot me a sheepish glance and asked, “Did Yvonne say anything about Saturday?”

  I bit my lip and took a bite. “She asked if you were okay after she left. She hoped she didn’t hurt your feelings.”

  Conor dropped his face into his palms. “She pities me. I think that’s even worse than if she was disgusted.”

  “Of course she wasn’t disgusted. Don’t be ridiculous. You just took her by surprise.”

  Conor’s expression turned glum. “She doesn’t think of me that way. I get it. I never would’ve done it if I wasn’t drunk.”

  I sent him a commiserating look. “I know.”

  Conor glanced at Amy. “How long do you think it’ll take for this embarrassment to fade?”

  She pursed her lips. “Hmm, six to eight weeks, I reckon.”

  “Oh hell, kill me now.”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic,” Sam tutted. “I think it was very brave of you to make a move, even if it did end badly. At least now you know.”

  “Yeah,” Conor sighed, dejected. “At least now I know.”

  “Your hair’s different,” Dylan commented, and I realised he’d been quietly studying me.

  “Oh yeah, I just tied it up.”

  “What’s this?” he asked, fingers sifting through the strands. “Is that chewing gum?”

  “That cow Kirsty stuck it there,” Sam told him, and I closed my eyes for a second. I didn’t want any drama.

  Dylan’s gaze darkened as his attention came to me. “Kirsty did this?”

  “She told me to stay away from you, but don’t worry, she’s just jealous—”

  Before I had a chance to finish, Dylan was up from his seat. He pinpointed Kirsty on the other side of the room and made his way over. My throat constricted as I watched him confront her. None of us could hear what he said since he was too far away, but his body language was enough. He was reaming her out, and everyone who sat at the surrounding tables watched the drama unfold. Dylan made a furious hand gesture, and Kirsty’s cheeks reddened. When he was done he marched back to our table, sat down and silently ate the rest of his lunch.

  Nobody breathed a word. I wanted to ask what he said to her, but Dylan’s entire being somehow commanded silence. I glanced across the room and sure enough, Kirsty was staring at us. Her expression was a mix of anger and mortification, but shame, too.

  I had a feeling she w
ouldn’t be sticking any more gum in my hair. And to some extent, that meant absolutely nothing. Dylan O’Dea had publicly defended me. Hating what had happened to me, he had launched to my defence. Up until that moment, I had only two people do that before in my life. Yvonne and Sam. My mam? She’d run, never looked back. But this beautiful boy—beautiful man—had stood up for me. There was no doubt in my mind.

  I loved Dylan O’Dea. And probably would forever.

  Chapter 13

  The week went by and Kirsty never enacted any revenge, so I hoped that was the end of it. Dylan came over every morning before school, but since Yvonne usually slept until around eleven, she had no clue of his comings and goings.

  I felt a little guilty, but at the same time I loved it.

  Going down on me seemed to be his new favourite thing. He was obsessed. I felt like I was someone else, some other more experienced, worldly teenager who had sex all the time. Like in American movies, where they all drive cars at sixteen and have active and varied love lives.

  “Hi,” I whispered as I answered the door to him on Friday morning. He gave me a sexy smile and moved to come inside when he spotted Yvonne. She was up early since she had a meeting at the bank. I suspected she was figuring out her options for taking out a loan, but I didn’t want to think about it too much. Yvonne taking out a loan only meant one thing; she was considering moving to New York sooner than originally planned.

  I think Conor’s attempted kiss last week had a weird effect on her. We hadn’t really discussed it, but I suspected it made her realise she needed to get moving, start working on her dreams or she’d never leave this place. She’d be stuck here forever, getting hit on by nineteen-year-olds and working every night until three in the morning.

  In spite of my efforts not to think about it, I worried. If Yvonne left, I’d have to go live in a group home, or something of that variety, until I turned eighteen. It was only a couple of months, but still. What would I do when I did hit my next birthday? How would I support myself? Pay rent?

  Of course, I could get a job, but I wasn’t sure minimum wage would be enough.

  “Morning, Dylan,” Yvonne chirped knowingly. Maybe she wasn’t so oblivious to his morning visits after all. Her expression was pleased, like she achieved her goal of surprising him.

  “Hey, Yvonne. I just, uh, came to walk Ev to school.”

  She glanced at the clock. “A little early, isn’t it?”

  He cleared his throat. “I like to be punctual.”

  “Right, well, come in and have a cup of tea before you go. Ev hasn’t had her breakfast yet.”

  He came inside and sat at the table, while I made tea and marmalade on toast. It was my favourite. Dylan kept shooting me meaningful looks, which I ignored. We were going to have to forego the sexy times this morning, and no amount of intense stares would change that. He hooked his foot around my ankle as I slid a small plate of toast to him. He ate it without protest, and washed it down with a gulp of tea.

  “Well, we’d better get going,” I said and went to give Yvonne a quick hug. “Good luck at the bank.”

  “Thanks, love,” she smiled, and we went on our way.

  “What’s Yvonne going to the bank for?” Dylan asked once we got outside.

  I shrugged and played it off like it was nothing. “Not sure. I think she might be trying for a loan.”

  “Like a mortgage?”

  “No, more like a couple thousand so she can move. I don’t think she wants to wait three years after all.”

  Dylan frowned as he walked. He was silent a long moment before he said, “But what will you do if she goes?”

  “Get sent to a foster home? Pretty sure my mam won’t volunteer to come back to Dublin and live with me until I turn eighteen.”

  “How can you sound so casual about it?” Worry etched his features.

  “What else can I do? Yvonne’s already taken care of me for three years. She’s done her time.”

  “It’s not a jail sentence, Ev.”

  “You know what I mean. I’d never dream of asking her to stay.”

  “You could always come with me,” he suggested. “I’m sure there are ways for you to finish your last year of school online.”

  “And where would I get the money for that? I don’t have a bunch of savings from my weekend job selling perfumes.”

  “I’ll pay for you. We’ll figure it out.”

  I stared at him and wondered if he was serious. He looked like he was. There wasn’t a speck of uncertainty in his expression.

  “I couldn’t let you do that.”

  “Ev, I’m certain I can’t do without you anyway. If you won’t come, I may have to put you in my suitcase and take you against your will,” he teased and poked me in the side.

  I giggled. “Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t even know where you’re going.”

  “But that’s half the fun.”

  “What will you do? Go to the airport and buy a ticket on the next departing flight? That’s the sort of schtick that gets you on a one-way journey to Lagos. Or better yet, Cork,” I said with a shudder. I knew that for him, the only thing worse than going somewhere even more downtrodden than the Villas, was going to a city only one hundred and sixty miles away.

  He wanted to travel far and wide, experience all the amazing things the world had to offer.

  Dylan let out a soft breath and chilly air left his mouth. He rubbed his hands together as he replied, “I’ll go wherever I can find the best opportunities.”

  I nodded and looked away, because the idea of losing both Dylan and Yvonne in the same year was heart-wrenching. Still, I sucked it up and put on a brave face. It wasn’t like I could stop them from doing what they wanted. In fact, it’d be worse if I was the reason they didn’t.

  We made our way down to Sam’s flat, but when I knocked, his mam said he’d already left. I thought nothing of it, because sometimes he had early choir practices. For someone so tiny, he had a set of lungs on him. I was the only one who knew he secretly dreamed of singing as a profession, but going to stage school was expensive. I was pretty sure when his mam encouraged him to go to college, she didn’t have performing arts in mind.

  Dylan and I walked to school hand in hand. When we arrived, I frowned, because Sam climbed out from the behind the bushes close to the front gates. Shane emerged soon after, but both of them walked inside like they didn’t even know each other.

  “Did I just see what I think I did?”

  “They’re having a secret affair,” I sighed. “Sam’s in love with the idea. There’s no talking to him.”

  “You know if it ever gets out, Shane will likely beat Sam up just to show how ‘not gay’ he is.”

  So, Dylan could see how reckless Sam was being, too. I was glad it wasn’t just me, but at the same time it made me worry even more.

  “Sam says he’s not emotionally invested, but I’m not so sure. I mean, he’s the very definition of emotional investment. He can’t pick his favourite sandwich without feeling torn between two lovers.”

  Dylan’s expression was curious. “I wouldn’t have thought that.”

  “That’s because he puts on a good front, but believe me, underneath it all he’s soft as candy floss.”

  We reached our lockers, and I opened mine, noticing Kirsty at hers. She cast me a quick look then proceeded to ignore us. Dylan appeared thoughtful for a minute then said, “What if we distract him somehow? I usually go running in Phoenix Park most Sunday mornings. I could invite him to join me. Maybe it would be good for him to have a male friend he can talk to about stuff.”

  “I didn’t know you ran,” I commented.

  He shrugged. “It’s basically the only exercise I do.”

  “Well, it works,” I muttered, and he grinned. “Also, that’s a very kind offer. I’ll ask Sam if he’s interested.”

  “Good. Let me know what he says.”

  Kirsty slammed her locker shut and sauntered off. Hmmm, I still sensed a hint of an attitude f
rom her, then again, that was sort of her personality. Dylan and I went to our morning classes, but all the while my mind stayed on Sam. Maybe I was being overly protective. Maybe everything would be fine and this thing with Shane would fizzle out on its own.

  After school, I went to visit Gran. I had a box of toffees and a new crossword puzzle book to give her. When I got there, she was sitting by the window in the common area reading a book.

  “Hi, Gran,” I said as I approached to give her a hug. Her face lit up in a smile when she saw me. I wished my hugs could bring back the vibrant, strong woman she’d been when I was little. I missed her.

  “Evelyn, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” she greeted, hugging me back before I went to take the seat opposite her.

  “It’s so quiet in here,” I commented, and she chuckled.

  “You should come at night. The place transforms. It’s like a Roman orgy after hours.”

  “Gran!”

  “It’s true. All these old timers are mad for it. They don’t have to worry about getting pregnant.”

  I laughed some more, delighted she was in a good mood. Her speech was perfect today and she looked well rested. It was a stark contrast to other days, when she was in pain and could hardly get her words out.

  “I brought some things,” I said, pulling the toffees and crossword puzzles from my school bag.

  “You’re too good to me.”

  “I wanted to bring you some flowers, but I’ve been so busy I’ve hardly had time to garden.”

  Her eyes got a twinkle. “Yvonne says you’ve got a new boyfriend.”

  I nodded shyly. “Yes, Dylan. Remember the boy who came to visit with me?”

  “Yes. A very polite young man.”

  I frowned. “Some girls at school aren’t happy about me being with him.”

  “Well, of course they aren’t. He’s quite the looker.”

  “I’m worried it’s bringing me the wrong kind of attention.”

  “Ignore them. You concentrate on your studies and don’t let the bullies have their way. When you acknowledge them, you give them power.”

  “I wish it was as easy as that,” I sighed.

  “It’s not easy, but I know you can do it. You’re a strong girl, so much like my Yvonne.”