Page 6 of The Secret We Keep
Holly looks at me deadpan. “If they didn’t want us drinking at my birthday party—which they chose to hold in the church hall—then they shouldn’t have done it here. Should they?”
She’s got a point. “Guess not.”
She nods down at my glass. “Get that in you. I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”
My eyes scrunch. “Meaning?”
Holly’s eyes scan the room, and I watch my best friend’s cheeks pull high on her face. “Don’t act dumb.”
“What?”
She turns in her seat to face me. “You know what I’m talking about,” she says, like I’m in the loop with her internal thoughts.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hols.” I widen my eyes at her.
She gives me a non-serious shake of her head. “Two weeks in the sun and you’re acting like a new woman. We really need to sort you getting a phone because I could have texted and pre-warned you about him coming back.” When I give her no indication of being on the same page as her, she adds, “Paddy,” before she’s straightening her spine.
Oh.
I’m thrown back to my childhood, the familiar ache in my chest present at the mere mention of his name. “Right,” I reply, trying to keep my voice even. I remember Fi mentioning it, but I’d forgotten. I also don’t mention the phone thing because it’s simple. I don’t want one.
Holly balks. “Is that all you’ve got to say?Pleasedon’t try to bullshit me right now. You have had a crush onHe-mansince primary school.” She gives me a playful nudge, grinning at her name for him.
So what if Paddy was always the hero in my stories?
Forcing a smile, I then take a sip of my drink, recoiling as soon as I swallow the bitter taste.
“Problem?” Holly asks, watching me with an unsure look in her eyes.
“These aren’t my favourite anymore.” I put my glass on the table with a shudder, noticing a few more people looking our way. Pulling down the sleeves of my jumper like it’s some sort of barrier, I look at Holly. “And anyway, everyone crushed on him. I was no different.”
“Nonsense.” Holly disregards my objections, then pulls out her lip gloss, applying a light layer. “Are you looking forward to seeing him?”
I catch my mother watching me before her gaze falls to the drink on the table and I see the mild shake of her head. “I suppose so.” I look down at my hands, twisting my fingers together. It’s been a while since we were all here.
I can’t deny that seeing Paddy again after all these years will be nice. But I heard he was completely done with this place. I imagine he’ll be gone before we know it.
Scanning the crowd, most people are deep in conversation, drinks in hand. Their voices rise and fall like waves, matching the easy vibe being created by the low lighting and gentle music.
When my neighbour walks past, I smile politely, but the gesture never reaches him.
He nods stiffly, and uncertainty presses against my chest. It feels like I’m at a party I was invited to, but no one really wants to include me.
I should be used to it by now, though.
Every year we celebrate Holly’s birthday like it’s her last. It’s totally normal for our small little village to celebrate everything like the queen is coming, but it’s exhausting. Seriously.
I don’t blame Paddy for not coming back every year. I don’t blameanyonefor not coming back here, actually. It’s a lot, especially when you have parents like mine who like to dictate your every move. Even though I’m a few weeks away from turning twenty-one, I’m still dancing their dance. One thing’s for sure: they won’t have to worry about a big, fancy party to celebrate my birthday. It will be dinner at ours, followed by a rewatch of my favourite TV show. Then, who knows, once it’s over, I could try giving my writing another go?
“Well, it’s not just him. June was telling my mum that this year, Lottie and Anna have driven in from theiraround the UKtravels.Please. If you’re going to go travelling, actuallygosomewhere worth seeing, like Australia or Europe, for God’s sake.”
A snicker leaves me. “I wouldn’t mind seeing more of the UK.” I sip my drink, forgetting I hate it.
Holly tuts. “Yeah, but that’s because you haven’t made it out of here properly.”
“I’ve literally just been on holiday for two weeks.” My eyes narrow on her.
“One holiday doesn’t count. And you haven’t told me a single thing about it,” she exclaims, as the big doors at the back of the hall open and more people filter in.
