Page 106 of Releasing 10
I knew that was a strange thing to think, but it was how I felt.
Living was a lot easier when Hugh was nearby.
When I was doing my living with him.
By the time we made it back to my house, after spending an eternity rambling through the countryside, it was dark outside. I wasn’t afraid, though. Not when I had the brave knight to protectme. I had faith in his ability to keep the monsters away. I trusted him to never let go of my hand.
No matter what.
“Aw, crap,” Hugh groaned, when we rounded the side of my house and locked eyes on his mother’s car. “I’m a dead man walking, Liz.”
I opened my mouth to ask him why, but his mother got there first.
“Hugh Andrew Biggs!” Sinead called out. “That better be you skulking behind the house!”
Hiding behind the side of my house, Hugh released an audible groan. “Jesus, she sounds really pissed.”
“Why?” I asked, turning to look at him.
“So, I sort of didn’t tell her I was coming over,” he explained sheepishly. “And I sort of didn’t ask for permission to cycle to your house, either.”
“Oh.” I felt myself laugh for the first time in weeks. “You aresodead.”
“Elizabeth Eleanor Young!” That wasmymother. “Return the boy to his mother right this instant.”
“Yeah,Elizabeth.” Hugh waggled his brows playfully. “Return me to my mother right this instant.”
This time my smile morphed into a full-on grin.
PART 5
Friendship Lifelines
BUILDING BIKES AND FRIENDSHIPS
Hugh
MARCH 17, 1997
AFTER THEST. PATRICK’SDAY PARADE IN TOWN THIS AFTERNOON, CATHERINEYOUNGinvited us to Old Hall House to play. The weather was too good to stay inside, so the five of us decided on building a treehouse.
While Gibs, Feely, and Claire snooped through the stables for potential materials we could use, Liz and I combed through the storage sheds on the other side of the property.
However, all plans of building a treehouse went clean out the window when we spied a cobweb-infested bicycle at the back of one of the sheds.
“Can you hold that?”
“Yep.”
“You got it, Liz?”
“I’ve got it, Hugh.”
“Good job.”
Nodding my approval, I greased up the chain links on the rust bucket of a bike we’d found. Pulling the chain into line, I readjusted the links until I was certain the chain would stay on. “I think we’re all set.”
“It’s as easy as that?” Liz asked, sounding fascinated.
