Page 83 of The Home Grown
“Do you guys want to tell me what’s going on?” she asks, looking between me and Danny.
Automatically, I check Danny’s expression. He and Jen have been friends since they were kids and now, I’m wondering if he’s told her. Perhaps this is one of those scenarios where Jen knows but doesn’t want me to know that she knows and?—
“He’s just preoccupied with the forum stuff, right mate?” Danny says, nudging my arm.
I tense my jaw.
“Oh, yeah. I guess that makes sense. Honestly, we’re on ‘ilovetopuck33’ now. I’m trying my hardest to keep up but the IP address is inconsistent. I think Vicky and the GM have been talking about getting it shut down, but I can only guess a non-affiliated forum will spring up in that case.” She pauses, and the kettle finishes boiling. “Hey, have you seen your hashtag? ‘#justiceforBettsy’ is taking a life of its own,” she says, her tone perkier, but I know what she’s doing.
“I’ve seen bits,” I say, dropping my eyes to my empty mug.
“Yeah? Aren’t you a little curious as to who it is?” she says.
“I am,” Danny says. “I’d love to know. I mean… it’s probably someone we know, right?”
“Hm,” I say.
But Jen is intuitive as hell.
“Right. Enough is enough,” she says. “This is ridiculous. What is going on?”
I can feel Danny’s eyes on me, burning my skin.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, her voice a tone of genuine worry.
Ah, shit.
A wave of nausea washes over me as my stomach clenches.
I glance towards the bi-fold doors, spotting Ryan and Liam at the far end of the garden, prepping space in the garden for whatever the hell is getting delivered, and I cast a look towardsJen, wondering if I should tell her. It may be useful to get a woman’s view, actually.
I flick my eyes back to Jen. “If I tell you, please, can you keep it to yourself? That includes Prez because he’ll tell Liam and then Johnny will find out and?—”
“Okay, calm down,” she says. “I promise. It’ll stay between us. Unless it’s something I need to inform the police about because?—”
“Nah, it’s nothing dodgy. Christ—what do you think of me?”
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” she says.
“Well, I’m a fuckup, so I guess it’s a logical conclusion to arrive at,” I say. “But anyway…” I brace myself; closing my eyes tightly and taking several deep breaths. “I may have got married when I was eighteen and then…” I look up to see Jen’s jaw practically on the counter. “…all this forum stuff kicked off and…”
“Wait. Wait. Wait. Am I hearing this right?” Jen’s attention shifts between me and Danny. “What the?—”
“Well, Vicky sort of implied that my chances of a GB career would be greater if I was drama free and if I had my shit together, so?—”
“No—go back. Rewind,” she says.
But I keep talking.
“Well, I sort of told Coach Harris I?—”
But Jen slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyebrows practically becoming one with her hairline, showing me the penny’s dropped.
“Honestly, you can’t make this shit up,” says Danny. “Oh, you need to tell Jen the bit about her turning up at your place looking for you.”
I cringe, but I figure I’ve come this far, so I may as well give all the sordid details over, relaying the story from the start.
“…so yeah, Coach thinks I’m married, so I asked Ellie if she’d … sort of, fill in for a little, attend a few events with me and whatever, but she said no. She said she felt used and—” I exhale sharply, rubbing my hands over my face.
