The Butterfly Novels Box Set: Contemporary YA Series (And By The Way; And For Your Information; And Actually)

by Denise Deegan

  He stirs.

  ‘Hello,’ he says.

  I smile. ‘Hello.’

  ‘This is nice.’

  ‘I could stay here all day.’

  ‘Let’s,’ he says.

  ‘OK!’

  ‘I was joking.’

  ‘I wasn’t.’

  I start running a finger along his back, then remember a game we played as kids, outlining a letter on someone’s back and having them guess what it was. I trace a letter.

  ‘T,’ he says.

  ‘Yep.’ I do another.

  ‘U.’

  ‘Yep.’ Another.

  ‘Q.’

  ‘This is too easy. I’m going to do words.’

  ‘OK.’ He settles himself like he’s going to concentrate. Like he’s having fun.

  I trace the letter ‘I’.

  ‘I thought we were doing words.’

  ‘I is a word, you retard.’

  He laughs.

  I don’t set out to write it. But I do end up writing it. I trace the letters L. U. V.

  ‘Love?’

  Then I trace the letter U.

  It takes a second, but then he turns his head. ‘You love me?’

  ‘I love you.’

  He smiles. ‘Come over here.’

  I climb over him. Then lie facing him.

  ‘That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever spelled on my back.’ He smiles, leans forward and kisses me. ‘I love you,’ he says.

  ‘You do?’ I didn’t expect anything back, just wanted him to have that, my love. I kiss him. So happy.

  ‘I’d have told you sooner but I didn’t want to trap you with it.’

  ‘How can you trap something you already have?’

  ‘God, I love you.’ He moves my hair from my face. ‘In fact, I more than love you, I wuv you.’

  I smile. ‘I wuv you too.’

  ‘Want to know when I knew?’ he asks.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘The lap dance.’

  ‘That late? Really?’

  He shrugs. ‘I always thought you’d leave, so I didn’t let myself. But then the lap dance. It was just so you. So wonderfully you. I couldn’t stop it anymore. I didn’t want to. And when I fell, I fell big time. It was like being hit over the head.’

  I feel my heart swell.

  ‘Want to know when I fell for you?’ And it’s only now I realise the exact moment. ‘The day you were waiting outside for me with your woolly cap on.’

  He smiles. ‘How could that be love? You didn’t even know me then.’

  ‘I knew you.’

  ‘It was the hat?’ he says, baffled.

  ‘It was the hat.’

  Then he smiles and says, ‘That’s so you.’

  And then we reach for each other.

  THIRTY-ONE | FAMILY GUY

  The last week of school flies. It doesn’t even feel like school – we do nothing. Friday night, we party. Saturday, I get a new client, a little Scottie, called Scottie. He’s so cute, with an old man’s face and long white tufts of hair falling down over his eyes.

  ‘When are you going to get a proper dog?’ Louis asks, walking into the kitchen carrying a load of books.

  ‘What’s a proper dog?’

  ‘A Boxer. An Alsatian. Not these fluff balls. I feel like drop-kicking them.’

  ‘You don’t even play rugby.’

  Scottie runs to him and starts licking his bare feet.

  ‘Jesus,’ he says. He climbs up on a chair.

  I laugh. ‘He’s not a mouse.’

  ‘You sure? Here, throw me my runners, will you?’

  I get the runners and throw them to him, one at a time. ‘What are you doing up so early anyway?’

  He drags the runners on. ‘Thought I’d cram a bit.’

  ‘You, study?’

  ‘It’s been known to happen,’ he says, climbing down. I give him a look. ‘OK, it hasn’t. But given that I’ll probably have to repeat—’

  ‘Oh God. Will you?’

  ‘It’s OK. I’ll pass next time. The trick is studying.’

  ‘Jesus, Louis.’

  He gestures to the books. ‘You’re looking at a new man, here.’

  He does look different. Maybe it’s just the books. I’ve never actually seen him study. Not that he’s opened anything yet. He’s looking at Scottie.

  ‘Think you might have a problem there,’ he says.

  Scottie’s dragging his bum along the floor.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ I ask.

  ‘Scratching his ass.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘He’s got worms.’

  ‘Oh my God. How do you know?’

  ‘Family Guy.’

  ‘Family Guy?’

  ‘There’s this episode where Brian has worms.’

  My whole face wrinkles up. I look at Scottie like he’s evil.

  ‘What’ll we do?’

  Louis looks like he’s trying to remember. ‘Stewey gave Brian pills. Google it. You probably get worm pills from the vet or something.’

  ‘Great! Just what I need.’ Hassle.

  ‘Jesus, he licked my feet,’ Louis says.

  I had him all over me. Ee-ew. I let Scottie out into the garden, run upstairs, have a shower, change my clothes and go on Google. I text Scottie’s owner. He texts straight back (from Sweden) and apologises. He says he’ll ‘sort me out’ when he gets back. He better. I rush to the vet in Dun Laoghaire, get the treatment, go to the chemist and get worm tablets for us. Then I go back and try to get the dog to eat his tablet.

  He won’t. So I put it in his food. He eats the food and leaves the tablet, which is now soggy, half dissolved and covered in dog food. I pick it out of the empty bowl (ee-ew) and look around. I get some kitchen paper, put the tablet on it, go to the sink and scrub my hands. Then get a piece of steak from the fridge. With the sharpest knife I can find, I cut a secret hole. I slip the tablet in. Then put the piece of meat in his bowl.

  He eyes me suspiciously but then gulps it down anyway. I almost sink to the ground in relief. I have to clean everywhere because – wait for the worst bit – worms lay eggs. The dog’s bed is machine washable (thank you, God). I wash his bowls, the kitchen, the hall, the sink. Then I shower again, just in case. I knock on Louis’ door. He opens it in his Jitter Mug gear.

  ‘You have to take this.’ I hand him his tablet and a glass of water.

  He doesn’t ask questions, just knocks it back.

  ‘Don’t tell Mum, OK? Or she’ll never let me have another dog.’

  ‘Sarah, you have to get her to swallow a tablet.’

  I wonder if I can hide it in her food.

  I’ve just walked out the front door with Scottie to bring him for a walk when Rachel appears at the gate.

  ‘Hey, just in time for a walk!’ I joke. She likes walking about as much as I do. Though it’s different with dogs. She’s piling through the gate like she hasn’t heard.

  ‘You know that girl I don’t like? The one on David’s Facebook page? Jenny something?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Well, they’re together.’

  ‘Who’s together?’

  ‘Her and David. Mark just rang.’

  ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘Believe it.’

  ‘It’s just so not like David though.’

  ‘Are you walking that guy?’ she asks, looking down at Scottie.

  ‘Eh, yeah.’

  ‘OK, let’s go.’

  We start walking. I have to trot to keep up with her.

  ‘That cow,’ she says. ‘I knew she was just waiting for her moment.’

  ‘What’ll we tell Alex?’

  She looks at me. ‘Should we tell her? I don’t think she’s ready for that just now.’

  ‘You’re right.’ But then I think. ‘Is she ever going to be ready?’

  Rachel stops walking, turns and looks at me. ‘Would you like to know – if it was you?’

  I think about that. ‘I
guess.’ I look at her. ‘Would you?’

  She nods.

  ‘Then we should tell her.’

  ‘I don’t know if I can.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  ‘OK, let’s just think about this for a minute,’ she says. She starts walking again, slower this time.

  After a while, I think of something. Something important.

  ‘What if she finds out on Facebook?’

  ‘Oh God.’

  ‘We’ll have to tell her.’

  She looks like she’s in pain. ‘When?’

  ‘The sooner the better. You know Facebook. She could find out any minute.’

  ‘Will we go after this?’ she asks, like she’s talking about the dentist.

  ‘I’m supposed to be going to Shane’s. He wants me to meet his friend, Peter.’

  She looks relieved. ‘OK. Tomorrow.’

  ‘Or we could do it today. I’m sure Shane wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘No. Tomorrow,’ she says. ‘Let’s leave it till tomorrow.’

  Deirdre answers the door. She looks tired. But smiles.

  ‘Hi, Sarah. Go on in, he’s out on the balcony with Peter.’

  I go into his room and see them sitting outside. I go out. Shane turns. His face brightens. I smile and kiss him hello.

  ‘This is Peter,’ he says.

  I turn. His friend is looking at me curiously like he’s trying to understand what I’m doing with Shane. It makes me feel like I’m some kind of novelty, like those women who date prisoners on death row. I want to tell him to shag off. The only reason I don’t is because Shane has been dying for us to meet. So I smile. For him.

  Peter stands and puts out a hand. Surprised, I shake it. He looks me in the eye, the way honest people do.

  ‘Here, you sit down,’ he says, nodding to his chair and heading inside for another. Maybe he’s not so bad, I think. But then maybe he’s just one of those charmers.

  ‘So, how’re you doing?’ Shane asks me.

  I tell him about David.

  He shrugs. ‘The guy’s human.’

  I stare at him. ‘Really?’

  ‘Sarah. You’re chewing your finger off there.’

  I take it from my mouth. ‘I have to tell Alex.’

  ‘No, you don’t.’

  ‘Someone has to.’

  ‘Eh, no.’

  Peter’s coming back so I clam up. I look at Shane, thinking how different guys are from girls.

  ‘So,’ Shane says to us both, but looking at me. ‘Thought we might all go to that table quiz thingy.’

  ‘Seriously?’ I’ve been trying to talk him into this fundraiser for research into motor neurone disease. He said it’d be full of people in wheelchairs.

  He shrugs. ‘Might be a bit of a laugh.’

  ‘That’s great,’ I say. Because this means he hasn’t totally given up on the idea that they’ll find a cure in time. ‘Cool.’

  ‘So, just the three of us?’ Peter asks.

  Which worries me a bit. ‘We’re not going to take this too seriously, though, right?’ I look at Shane. ‘You know I’m not great on general knowledge.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ he says. ‘You know more celebrity news than anyone.’

  ‘Like that’s going to help.’

  ‘Have you ever been to a table quiz?’ he asks.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, then, you won’t know. You’ve got to have a celebrity expert. After that, we’re covered. Pete’s a walking encyclopaedia.’

  ‘You make me sound like a geek.’ Peter looks at me. ‘He’s ten times smarter than I am.’

  Then I think of something. ‘I could ask Rachel and Alex. Rachel’s a genius. And Alex is amazing on music and movies. And she’s a bit of a genius too.’

  ‘Any of them single?’ Peter asks.

  I think about that. And feel for Alex all over again. ‘Not really.’

  ‘How can you “not really” be single? You are or you aren’t, aren’t you?’ He smiles.

  ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘Ah,’ he says, like case closed.

  It hits me then what Alex said about guys – no one will want her with her ‘complication’. She’s only sixteen. She should be having fun.

  ‘You should invite them,’ Shane says to me. ‘It’ll be fun.’

  ‘OK,’ I say, thinking that maybe it would be good for her to get out, have fun, forget about everything, just for one night.

  Next morning at nine, I get up to let the dog out. It’s not the total crack of dawn but for Louis it is. But there he is, at the kitchen table, studying before he goes to the Jitter Mug. Maybe I underestimated him. I thought this would last a week, tops. I let Scottie out, then sit at the table and reach for the Coco Pops. They’re nearly empty. Which reminds me. I haven’t seen Miriam in two weeks.

  ‘Where’s Miriam?’ I ask.

  He looks up from a gigantic book. ‘Huh?’

  ‘Miriam. She hasn’t been around.’

  He shrugs. ‘Oh, right. That’s over,’ he says casually. Then goes to back to his book.

  ‘Seriously? Why?’

  He looks up like I’m bothering him. ‘Sarah, aren’t you tired? It’s, like, nine in the morning.’

  ‘I’m never tired when there’s crucial news breaking. So who ended it?’

  He sighs. ‘Me, if you must know.’

  ‘Why?’

  He looks at me like he knows there’s only one way to shut me up and that’s tell me. He’s right. ‘It was going nowhere.’

  ‘Wasn’t that the point?’

  ‘I got tired, OK?’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘Of there not being a point.’ He gets up. Leaves his books open on the table and disappears. I look after him, and think, weird.

  Alex has started to wear her T-shirts baggy. But she’s still wearing skinny jeans underneath. And you really wouldn’t know.

  ‘You look amazing,’ I tell her, because her hair is so glossy and her skin so clear.

  ‘You mean for someone who’s pregnant?’

  ‘No. I just mean you look really pretty today.’

  ‘You haven’t seen me naked.’

  ‘Alex, Jesus. Too much information.’

  She smiles. ‘So we going out?’

  ‘Yeah, sure, great,’ Rachel says. We weren’t sure she’d want to.

  ‘Where to?’ I ask.

  ‘I thought we’d get some sushi in Dundrum.’

  Rachel and I look at each other.

  ‘Raw fish?’ Rachel asks. ‘Is that OK?’

  Alex groans while we google it on her iPhone.

  Some sites say it’s OK. Some say it’s only OK if it’s been frozen first. Some sites say better not.

  ‘We better not then,’ Rachel says.

  ‘Might as well stay here,’ Alex says, moodily.

  Hormones, I think.

  Rachel looks out the window. ‘I’m not staying in today.’

  She’s right. It’s gorgeous out there. And anyone who knows anything about Ireland knows that hazy blue skies are not a regular feature.

  ‘Let’s go to the beach,’ I say.

  ‘If you think I’m getting into a pair of togs, you can forget it,’ Alex says.

  ‘We could just paddle.’

  ‘You’ve a Frisbee, haven’t you?’ Rachel asks Alex.

  She looks miles away suddenly. ‘Yeah, I’ve a Frisbee.’ She sounds sad.

  ‘You don’t want to go,’ I say.

  ‘No. We’ll go.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s the best place for beached whales, isn’t it, the beach?’

  Rachel and I look at each other.

  ‘It’s all right, I’m joking.’

  We’ve played Frisbee. Had a picnic (packed by Barbara and delicious). We’ve had a sandcastle competition (Rachel won). Now we’re back on the rug, drinking Coke. And I can’t do it. I can’t tell her. I look at Rache. I know what she’s thinking: Do we really want to ruin such a perfe
ct day?

  We lie on the rug. It’s lovely, feeling the sun on my skin, listening to the waves breaking and the sound of people on the beach. I’m beginning to think we shouldn’t say anything. Just leave it be. Hope for the best.

  Alex sits up, facing the sea, and wraps her arms around her legs. ‘Do you think there’s any chance that me and David will ever get back together?’

  I don’t move.

  ‘Rache?’ she asks.

  I hear Rachel clear her throat and sit up. I seriously want to stay put. But I can’t leave Rache do this on her own. So I sit up too.

  ‘I think maybe not,’ Rachel says, carefully.

  ‘Really?’ Alex asks. She sounds so disappointed, I want to cry.

  Rachel looks at me. I widen my eyes in warning. Don’t say it. Don’t do it to her. Just don’t. Not now.

  ‘What?’ Alex asks, catching me.

  ‘He’s seeing someone,’ Rachel says quickly, like she’s pulling a plaster. ‘That girl, Jenny.’

  Alex’s hand goes to her heart, like she’s been stabbed there. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Mark. I’m sorry.’

  She faces forward and stares at the horizon. For ages.

  ‘I can see them together,’ she says, so quietly it’s like she’s talking to herself. ‘I can actually picture them.’ She’s gone so white I’m afraid she’s going to faint. Then, all of a sudden, she starts to get up. She’s stumbling.

  I think, Not a good idea.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Rachel asks, starting to get up too.

  Alex is walking, no, running away from us now. We look at each other. Then we hurry after her.

  She stops and turns. ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I say, awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

  ‘Want company?’

  ‘No.’

  So we stand there like retards as she marches off along the beach.

  ‘Shane was right,’ I say. ‘We shouldn’t have said anything.’

  ‘When did he say that?’

  ‘Yesterday.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you listen?’

  ‘Like this is my fault?’

  She stops suddenly. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘It’s OK.’

  She looks along the beach. ‘Is she running again?’