Chapter 15
Jamie
“Any plans for tonight?”
I turn to Ian so fast I nearly drop my phone.
“What? No!”
Ian gives me a dubious look.
“I mean, nothing special.”
“You could come with us. We’re picking up Nick for a beer.”
“No, thanks.”
“You just said you had nothing to do.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m up for a night out.”
“Why not?”
“Maybe he has other things to do,” Ryan jumps in.
“I said I’m busy, okay?” I snap, losing patience.
“Relax, I was just asking a question.”
I realise I’m nervous and need to take charge of my emotions; otherwise, they will start their usual, invasive, suffocating interrogation.
“Tell us, Captain…” Ryan says, taking the piss. “Who are you busy with?”
Your number is up, little bastard.
“It’s none of your business.”
“Is it someone we know?” Ian asks. I could almost think his question is innocent, but he’s an O’Connor; their souls are permanently marked with black ink.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Most definitely.”
“Well, then you can talk, if we don’t even know him.”
“Why should I?”
“Because we’re friends, and friends talk.”
“You think I’m up for some locker room gossip?”
“We’re like brothers, aren’t we?” Ian says.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“I married your sister.”
“That doesn’t mean my name is also on the marriage cert.”
“You’re such a dick, you know that?”
“It must have been your influence.”
“Let it go, Ian,” Ryan says. “If he doesn’t want to talk, it means it’s something hot; better not to stick around for the blow-up.”
“Something else is about to blow, like your head.”
Ian watches us for a few seconds, then says, “Why do I feel like I missed something?”
“Because you were busy with other matters,” Ryan replies.
“Mmm… I feel left out. And I don’t like it.”
“Welcome to the club. How does it feel?” Ryan winds him up.
“Why him, and not me?” Ian presses.
“Jesus, Ian, are you ten years old?” Ryan says.
“I didn’t say anything to anyone, and… there’s nothing to say at all!” I grab my duffle bag and shove my things inside in a hurry.
“This isn’t about that heartburn, is it?” Ian asks.
I turn to them, exasperated. “Stop it, both of you. It’s none of your fucking business.”
“If it’s someone in the family…”
Ryan has just taken his last breath.
“Ah. I see.”
Ian wants to die, too. Today. I feel sorry for Mr and Mrs O’Connor, but soon they will only have one son left.
“Sit down, Jamie.” Ian signals for me to take a seat on a bench.
I drop my bag and sit, elbows on my knees, phone still in my hand.
“Let’s talk about this… nothing.”
“If we must.”
The two brothers sit on either side of me, boxing me in.
“Is it the kind of nothing that causes no complications, or the kind that turns into a fucking mess?”
I snort.
“Fucking mess, without a doubt,” Ryan says.
“Okay. Then what can we do to avoid this fucking mess?”
“You are not my brothers,” I say harshly.
“I thought we were friends.”
I shrug.
“And friends talk. They help each other.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“What’s going on? And don’t say ‘nothing’, or I’ll make you swallow that fucking word.”
I push myself up and lean back.
“Is it like the other times?”
I sigh.
“I’d say no,” Ryan says.
“Is that the problem? That it’s not like the other times?”
“I don’t know.”
“How do we find out?”
“We?” I turn to Ian.
“We’re here for you.”
I let out an annoyed laugh and drop my eyes back to my phone.
“Is this you getting your own back because I meddled too much in your lives?” I ask.
“We want to help you, the way you helped us,” Ian says.
“I didn’t do a thing,” I mutter.
Ian’s hand settles on my shoulder.
“Will you just leave me be? I already told you it’s—”
“Don’t say that again. You don’t believe it yourself,” Ryan says.
“It has to be nothing,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Why?” Ryan asks.
“Because it just does.”
“So you don’t do relationships?” Ian asks.
“I don’t… I can’t.”
The words come out in a near gasp.
“You were pure confident there, handing out advice like they were M&M’s at a kids’ party,” Ryan says.
“Ryan…” Ian warns.
“Grand, I’ll shut up. Ian, the wise one, please enlighten us all,” Ryan mutters.
“It’s never easy. But if you don’t try, you’ll never know how it feels,” Ian says.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Let someone in.”
“What makes you think I want it? Or need it?”
Ian smiles. “The fact that you’ve been holding that phone for twenty minutes. That you don’t feel like taking the piss out of it. And that you’re basically breathing with one lung.”
“And the fact that you’re not even worried about yourself,” Ryan adds.
I turn to him.
“You’re making the whole fucking mess because you’re worried about him.
And if you’re worried about him, Jamie, it means you’re already fucked.
If your first thought is how not to hurt the other person, you’ve already stepped over the line of self-protection.
And if you feel you’re not enough, then it just means it’s just… ”
“Don’t you dare!” I shoot to my feet. “It’s… It’s not… ah, fuck off!”
I grab my bag and rush out of the locker room, my phone still in my hand. As I leave the training facility and make my way to my car, I glance at the screen again.
You can come to the hospital.
Let’s say 7 p.m.? I can take a break by then.
D.
D. Doctor.
My Doctor.