18 | Cross My Heart
Cross My Heart
Molly
WE'RE WATCHING THE Snapper next,” Marissa announces, holding up a disc.
I’m in a pajama set Claire let me borrow for the night when I said I didn’t have any cute PJ’s—they’re white and dotted with little blue whales—and curled into the couch cushions at Niamh Keane’s ginormous house in Glen Alder. This girl has a couch in her bedroom.
A loveseat, she called it, but still.
Niamh groans from her spot on her bed, throwing a piece of popcorn Marissa’s way. “We watched that last time! Let’s watch Mean Girls. Oh—Molly, you’re American, can you tell us—are they really like that over there?”
“Oh, yeah, totally,” I nod. “Except we don't wear pink on Wednesdays. We wear it every day and we’re all incredibly mean. It's a requirement for citizenship.”
All the girls’ laugh, clearly getting that I’m only joking (I mean, partially, depending on who you are). Claire and I are sharing a blanket on the loveseat, Marissa has her own spot on a bean-bag, and Niamh was set up on the bed.
Marissa relents to watching Mean Girls, and Claire says she'll go refill the popcorn before it starts. She's been a little quieter than I’ve grown used to, which was to say that her normal 150 words said per minute was resting at a humble 145.
“I’ll come,” I offer, tossing the blanket back onto the loveseat.
The Keane’s kitchen is cavernous—dark cabinets with copper hardware, a sink that I swear is the size of a bathtub, and a fridge that looks like it belonged in a restaurant.
Claire’s humming some Westlife song—this band that she is totally in love with, and introduced me to—while scooping popcorn into a bowl.
“You okay?” I ask, hopping onto the counter beside her.
“Yeah,” she nods, “just tired.”
I watch her for a moment. Claire has an expressive face—you could tell how she was feeling just by looking at her—but right now, she’s giving nothing away.
“Claire,” I press, tilting my head. “C’mon. Tell me what’s bugging you.”
She sighs, setting the popcorn bowl down on the counter. “It’s stupid.”
“If it’s bothering you, it’s not stupid.”
Claire hesitates, then finally says, “I don't know. I just... I feel like the odd one out sometimes. With Niamh and Marissa. We’ve all known each other since we were little, but they’ve lived right next door.
They play hockey together, they have all the same classes.
Marissa is basically a permanent fixture here because her parents work in the city.
I have loads of friends, Molly, I really do.
But I don't feel like I have a person. You know? Someone who is just... mine.”
She looks up at me, her brown eyes shimmering with a vulnerability that makes my heart ache. “And then, there’s you and Niall.”
My heart did a violent somersault. “Me and Niall? What about us?”
“You guys are friends now,” she says, her tone a mix of confusion and fear.
“You play for the same team, you have this... connection. I know you don't ‘hang out’ or anything, but I’m just terrified you’re going to ditch me for him.
I know it’s pathetic, but I’ve always been ‘Niall’s little sister’ to everyone in school. I just don’t want to lose you to him.”
“Claire,” I say, and she pauses her rambling to take a breath.
“Yeah?”
“I am never going to ditch you for anyone. Especially not your brother. Sure, we have a lot in common, but that doesn’t mean anything. But you? You’re still my friend. You’re the reason I haven't lost my mind in this town. We’re our own team, okay? I’d never choose him over you. No matter what.”
A small, watery smile breaks through her melancholy. “Promise? Cross your heart and hope to die?”
“Promise. On my life.”
She lets out a long, shaky breath, looking infinitely relieved. “Okay. Thanks, Molly. I told you I was being stupid.”
“You weren't. But you should tell Niamh and Marissa how you feel, you know. I bet they don't even realize how they’re making you feel. And if they’re good friends, they’ll try to make it better.”
“You’re right,” she says, then gives me a surprisingly strong hug. “I’m really glad you’re here, Molls.”
“Me too.”
She pulls back, shaking off the somber mood like a dog shaking off water. “Okay! Now, let’s get the popcorn made and get back before they start without us.”