30 | Willing and Able
Willing and Able
Molly
“WHERE ARE YOU going? To a sleepover?”
“Yeah, Moll,” Jamie says without looking up from the bag she's shoving her clothes into. “For a while.”
“With Carl?”
Carl was Jamie’s boyfriend. He was over all the time when mom and dad were working.
I wasn’t allowed in Jamie’s room when her door was shut, the music was on, and Carl was over.
I didn’t mind. I usually just watched TV with Lorraine, or played with the dollhouse Mom got us for Christmas.
It’s one of those real fancy ones that look like real houses.
“Maybe,” Jamie shrugs. “I’m not sure. Just gotta get outta here for a bit.”
“Can I come?”
“No,” she says without even thinking about it. My face falls, and I know she sees because she softens her voice. “Not this time, Mol.”
“Are you gonna be back for dinnertime?”
“Doubt it,” she zips up the bag, looking around the room. Jamie grabs her lighter—for her candles, she says—and shoves it in her sweater pocket with shaky hands.
She crouches down in front of me so that we’re eye level.
“Listen Molly. You have to be a big girl now, okay? I don’t know when I’ll be back, but you have to keep an eye on Lorraine, okay?
And don’t listen to Mom. Don’t listen to the things she says about...
well, just don’t listen. I promise, you can come visit me soon. Once I get settled.”
“Settled where?” It doesn’t make sense. Jamie has always been here, my whole entire life. She can’t just... leave?
“Somewhere with a beach... west coast, maybe, I’m thinking California.”
“That’s so... far.”
She pulls me in a hug so tight I can barely breathe, and I hug her back. I don’t know why I feel like I’m gonna cry—maybe because it feels like she’s leaving for much more than a sleepover.
“I know, Mol... Here,” she says when she pulls back. She unclasps the silver soccer ball necklace she always wore and which I envied. Jamie used to play soccer, too. But she quit the team two years ago.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she pulls away, brushing pieces of my hair behind my ears. “Please don’t hate me.”
She’s already grabbed her bag and slipped out the window before I can ask what there ever would be to hate.
??ˋ ?? ?ˊ?
November, 2007
WITH ALL GOOD things, comes something bad.
My dad called this morning to tell me he was planning to come visit next weekend. I’m equal parts excited and nervous to see him in Ireland. Not nervous to see him, but really more nervous for my whole family to be together at once. The last time they were, everything imploded.
The bad thing about this week was that Niall was suspended—from school for the next week, and he’s not allowed to play until our game on the 24th.
“They let me off easy,” he mutters, sounding surprisingly bitter. Claire and JJ were upstairs—getting something from the attic, cameras or something for Claire—and I was helping him with the dishes. I mostly wanted a second alone with him—something I hadn’t gotten since Saturday night.
When I woke up in his bed on Sunday morning, we only talked just long enough for him to apologize for me having to “take care of” him the night before, and then he was busy puking his guts out in the bathroom for the rest of the morning.
“You don’t sound too happy about that,” I note.
He shakes his head. “It’s cause of my da. People liked him, so they just brush all my fuck-ups under the rug, and give me second chances because I’m a “good kid,” when really they just mean I’m Patrick Blue’s kid.”
“You think that?” My heart aches at the thought. That no one could really think he was worthy of a second chance—that it could only be attributed to his late father in his mind.
“‘Course I do. I know it,” he shakes his head, handing me another plate to dry.
“Well, I never knew your dad,” I say softly, making him look at me. “But I’d still give you a second chance.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Then will you?”
For the kiss, I think. Both the one he ignored me after and the one while he was drunk after his breakdown at the game. And everything else that happened on Saturday night.
“Are you okay?” I ask genuinely. “Saturday night was...”
“A one-off,” he says quickly. “Just a one time thing. I was... stressing out. I had liquor on me for the party later, not cause... don’t go thinking I’m a drunkard or anything.”
“I wasn’t,” I shake my head, though it’d crossed my mind for a moment. “How’s your knee?”
He gives me a wry smile. “Feeling great since it knows it has a break for a little while.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing,” I offer. “I mean, to be off it for a little while.”
“It’s fine, Molly,” he says, his eyes sharp. “Swear it. Hasn’t been giving me any problems lately.”
“As long as you’re sure,” I resign, just as Claire and JJ return to the room.
“Lookit what we found Nialler!” JJ says, holding up a dark blue book—no, a photo album—with cursive letters spelling out Niall Patrick Blue. “All yer old baby pictures. C’mere, Molly, you’ll love the one of him dressed as a—”
“Fuck off, JJ,” Niall snaps, reaching for the book.
JJ laughs, dodging him. “Ah, c’mon, Nialler! Let yer girlfriend see!”
“She’s not my—”
“Girlfriend?” Claire asks, cocking an eyebrow.
“I’m not—” I start, at the same time Niall says, “she’s not—”
JJ laughs, shaking his head. “You know me, Claire-Bear. Always taking the piss.” He passes the book to Niall, who takes it gingerly.
Claire is still looking between us, confused. I feel my gut twisting up. I have to tell her, at least the bare bones details. That I like her brother and I may or may not have kissed him once or twice.
“I should probably go. My mom’s gonna be here soon.” It’s a lie. I’m just supposed to text her when I’m ready to be picked up, since Niall’s mother is giving him his car back until he needs it for school again. “Wanna wait outside with me, Claire?”
She nods, following me towards the hall. I can hear JJ start chattering to Niall as soon as we leave.
“So what’s up?” she asks as soon as we’re outside.
“I kissed Niall,” I blurt out, then cringe. “Or maybe it was a group effort? And it... it’s happened more than once, but I just didn’t know how to tell you...”
“Oh,” she says, blinking a couple times as if processing. “Oh. Wow.”
“Are you mad?”
“No,” she shakes her head quickly. “No, I’m just... surprised. I didn’t realize you liked him.”
“I didn’t realize either,” I admit. “And I don’t know if he really likes me back. I don’t know how he feels at all.”
She laughs. “Oh, Molly. He definitely likes you.”
“How do you know?” All I can think of is him ignoring me for weeks after we kissed. And then the only time he was transparent about his feelings, he had been drinking.
“Cause he’s been weird around you since you got here,” she shrugs. “He’s liked you since the moment he laid eyes on you, Mol, I’m sure of it.”
“I’m just worried where it would even go with him,” I sigh, leaning against her shoulder. “And I don’t want things to be weird between you and me.”
“They won’t,” she promises, hugging me tightly. “But you have to promise to tell me everything.”
“Everything?” I ask, pulling back.
“Well, not everything-everything. Because ew. But like, if he ever hurts your feelings, let me know and I'll kick his arse.”
I laugh. “It’s a deal.”