Page 5 of The Secret We Keep
Okay. Fi asking me that question, not that odd. My old man asking me it, weirdest shit I’ve ever heard.
My eyes narrow as I pull away from him. Why do I get the feeling I missed something? “No? Should I have?” Because in all the years she hung around with Fi and a few of the other girls in our village, sure, we had plenty of conversations, but she was just my kid sister’s friend with the blonde curls and cute laugh.
Cute?
Taking a pause, my realisation catches me off guard. Not because it’s new, but because it isn’t. The feelings I had shrugged off as a kid, clearly mean more to me now than they ever did.
“Fi told me to ask you.” He waves a hand coolly. “Anyway, fancy watching the game later? The fridge’s loaded with your favourite.”
I nod, my teeth unclenching slightly. “Yeah. I’ll get the boys round too, if that’s alright?”
Pops dips his head.
“Which reminds me,everyoneis invited back to ours afterwards,” Mum sings, earning herself a chorus of groans from all of us.
“Seriously?” I ask her, already wanting to drown my sorrows. Because Jake and Danny and my family is enough company for anyone. Buteveryone?
Pops signals for us to follow, and we all begin heading towards the church hall entrance.
“Oh, enough complaining, Patrick.” Her use of my full name never ceases to surprise me. “People have been looking forward to seeing you.”
I somehow manage to suppress a roll of my eyes when I make it to the door and hold it open for her.
Fi pipes up as she walks past me. “People don’t actually give two shits about what’s going on with Paddy.”
Exactly. “They just have nothing better to talk about and are all nosy fuckers.”
Mrs Dennison walks past as we head to the main room. She frowns, obviously having caught the tail-end of my sentence and my mum nervously waves at her before thrusting the plate of food in her hand my way.
“Patrick, make yourself useful and pass these around.”
With a scoff, I guide her hands away from me. “Absolutely not.”
We make it inside, the large doors closing behind us. “Fi, then?” Mum’s voice begins to rise which is unlike her. “Just someone please try to act normal here.” Her demand is angry but hushed.
I’m two seconds away from turning right back around and getting in my car, but I see Mum’s face redden slightly. “Alright,” I crack, knowing it's not worth the trouble. Instead, I smile tenderly at my old man and her. As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve needed them recently.
I still refuse to take the plate. “I’ll be normal,” I mutter, knowing that getting through this is going to be harder than I thought.
God help me.
We can get shit-faced back at yours
Morgan
Forthemillionthtimein less than twenty minutes, I look around the church hall, desperately trying to avoid everyone’s gaze. I get why they’re looking this way; I’m sitting next to the birthday girl, but it rattles me in a way I don’t understand.
“Drink up,” Holly tells me, wiggling her eyebrows with a huge, encouraging grin.
A few beads of water trickle down the side of my glass before I look at her. “Remind me what this is.”
“Al-co-hol,” she says, annunciating every syllable like I’m dumb.
“I know it’s alcohol, I mean, whatisit? Rum? Vodka? I can’t tell.”
Holly inspects her drink, which looks just like mine. “It’s a Mojito. Your favourite.” She tugs at the end of her bright pink skirt.
I look at my glass. “You really think we should be drinking in achurch hall?” There’s got to be some sort of rule against it.
