by Kelly, A. S.
He turns his back to me and disappears quickly down the stairs, as I close the door behind him, then lean my forehead against it.
The other night doesn’t count. He’s right. I was the first one to say it. So why do I feel like I’m the one who doesn’t count, as if it’s my fault this time, too?
Niall
The door to her office is open, and Jordan is standing next to the window, her back turned to me.
“Good morning.”
She spins around instantly.
“I brought…” I hold up a takeaway cup of coffee.
“Good morning.”
Her tone is distant, tension plastered across her face. I think I messed up last night when I kissed her goodbye, right after she’d told me that things like that couldn’t happen between us anymore, right after she gave my daughter a chance; but I couldn’t resist. There was something hanging in the air between us, and I wanted to clear it up. The fact that there are now a thousand other things suspended between us is a totally different story.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You haven’t.”
I place the coffee on her desk – I get the impression she doesn’t want me anywhere near her.
“Thanks.”
She moves slowly in her skin-tight skirt – which I stare at, shamelessly – and she takes a seat behind her desk. She gestures for me to do the same, and I sit across from her. She slides a well-organised, stapled stack of papers towards me.
“This is my proposition.”
“Where do I sign?”
“Don’t you want to take a look through it first?”
“I trust you.”
Her eyes soften just for a second, before snapping back to normal. “You should really read the contract, Niall. Including all the small print.”
“By ‘small print’ do you mean the list of things that can never happen between us?”
“It’s way more complicated than that.”
“Okay, so…” I grab the stack of papers and flick through them, slowly.
“You should…”
“Here we go.” I stop at the second-last page – before the one I have to sign – and scan through the small print she was talking about.
“Aren’t you going to read the rest?”
“I don’t care about the rest.”
I lift my eyes to study her reaction. I watch as she bites her lip, but with no other signs of giving in. I let my gaze fall back onto the papers, and after intently reading the things she has in mind for me, I lift my head again, leaning back against the seat.
“Wow. Do I seriously have to refer to you as Ms Hill?”
She nods, deathly serious.
“And I can’t even talk to you outside school?”
“Preferably not, but if you have to, I can add a clause that says courtesy greetings are allowed.”
“Why?” I ask, almost offended. “What are you trying to do? Are you trying to avoid any kind of contact with me?”
“I think I’ve made that quite clear.”
“What are you afraid of? And don’t tell me that you think people will find out, because I don’t buy it – not after all this.” I grab the stack of papers and wave them around.
“Didn’t you want to get off on the right foot?”
“Does this really seem like the right foot to you? Does this seem reasonable?”
“It’s our agreement, Niall.”
“What scares you so much, Jordan? The idea that I might come onto you?”
“Do you not think I’d be capable of keeping you at a distance anyway?”
“Then what’s all this for?” I get to my feet and plant my hands on the desk, leaning towards her. Jordan sits there, frozen, lifting only her eyes to me: that confidence from before is gone. They’re almost frightened, now.
“Oh, my God,” I say, calmer now. “I get it now. You’re scared of yourself.”
“What are you talking about?”
“All this small print isn’t for me; it’s for you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, unconvincingly, struggling to hold my gaze. “I have no interest in you, Kerry.”
“But your signature is on these papers, right next to the empty space where mine should be.”
“Of course – it’s an agreement. Both parties have to sign it.”
“I’m not signing this fucking small print.”
“They’re part of the contract. Either you sign everything, or…”
“Take them out.”
“I can’t do that.”
“I don’t agree.”
“Well, that’s your problem. Actually, it’s your daughter’s problem.”
“Don’t bring Skylar into this.”
“If you don’t sign this agreement, Kerry, then I can’t give Skylar that place.”
I shake my head in disbelief and disappointment. I never thought it would come to this.
“Fine,” I spit bitterly, grabbing a pen from the desk. I sign on the dotted line then throw the pen back onto the table.
“If that’s everything…”
“Skylar can start tomorrow. I’ll make sure that everyone is informed of her arrival, and prepare a study plan for her to catch up with everything she’s missed so far.”
“School’s only just started.”
“I mean for the whole year.”
“I’m not following.”
“I think that a little effort will be necessary – from her and from her teachers…”
“Are you saying that you want her to do two years of work in one?”
“It’s a shame to fall so far behind.” There’s a trace of genuine sadness in her voice. “I want to do something to help her, to get her back on the right track. And maybe knowing that everything is not lost… I don’t know, I thought it might be a good incentive.”
And she’s right. Skylar hates being the eldest in her class – or, as she puts it, having to be ‘surrounded by babies’. As if a year makes a difference; but I imagine, for a pissed-off teenager, it really does make a difference.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” She gets to her feet, too.
I nod slowly, feeling guilty for my harsh words before; but I still don’t understand the need for all this distance between us.
“I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow at six.”
“What?”
“I’ll be there for your first training session.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This is why you should’ve read the whole thing. Training is every Thursday afternoon – at least for the time being. If they need a few more hours a week, we can train on Saturday mornings, too.”
“Training. Right.”
“The PE teacher could give you a hand, if you need it.”
“I work better on my own.”
“It’s up to you.”
“And it’s not necessary for you to be there, either.”
Now she’s the one who looks bitter.
“I can get by perfectly well on my own.”
“Then we have nothing else to say to each other, Mr Kerry.”
“Have a nice day, Ms Hill.” I leave her office with a weight lifted from my shoulders, but a churning sensation in my stomach. It’s not the fact that I have to address her as ‘Ms Hill’ that annoys me – actually, it just makes her even sexier. The problem is subtler, more pathetic than that; it’s a problem I never thought would make me feel so bitter, so filled with inexplicable regret.
Niall
“We’ve done it!” I announce, striding through the front door and closing it behind me.
My mother appears instantly in the living room.
“We got the place at the Abbey.”
“That’s amazing news!”
At that moment, my daughter comes padding down the stairs.
“We’re in,” I tell her, satisfied that I’ve finally managed to do something good for her. “The
school.”
“We?” she asks, obviously more switched-on than I am.
My mother looks at me as my daughter goes to stand by her side.
“I’ve got a job. Kind of.”
“Please, don’t tell me you’ll be teaching at the school,” my daughter groans, horrified at the idea of having to share yet more space with me.
I shake my head. “I’m going to be a coach for a team of kids.”
“So what does the school have to do with it?”
“It’s the school team, but it’s extra-curricular. They train after school.”
“I don’t understand, dear…”
“There’s a tournament coming up that’s sponsored by Intersport. It’s for all the schools in the county; a GAA tournament.”
“Oh…” my mother exclaims, surprised.
“The Abbey is taking part, and they needed a coach, so…”
“Well, that’s two lots of good news, then!” My mother: always positive.
“Did she bribe you?”
I still have no idea how she got expelled. Oh, wait, I remember: vandalism, obscenity, and all the rest.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it bribery.”
“What do you mean?” my mother asks, confused.
“We reached an agreement, that’s all.”
“Did you sell yourself out just so I could get a place?”
“I didn’t sell myself out. She asked me if I was interested in a job, and I accepted.”
“And it has nothing to do with the fact that I was waiting for a place at that school?”
“Must be a coincidence.”
“Of course, it’s definitely a coincidence,” my mother says, trying to keep everything under control. She comes towards me and kisses me on the cheek. “I’m so happy for you both.” She moves back over to Skylar and wraps her arms around her; as usual, my daughter stands there passively, her arms frozen at her sides. She lets my mother squeeze her and stroke her cheek, before turning away and leaving us alone.
“I didn’t think she was such a badass.”
“What?”
“The head teacher.”
I don’t know how to respond. I don’t know what’s going to come out of her mouth next.
“She’s really got you nailed down.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“So you’re trying to tell me that you like the idea of training kids in a shitty school, in a shitty town, in a shitty—”
“Do you really need to keep using that word?”
“It just reinforces the idea.”
“Trust me, you made it very clear.”
“Why, Kerry?”
“They needed someone.”
“I want to know why you really did it.”
I shrug, shoving my hands awkwardly into my pockets. “For you. I took that job for you.”
Skylar is silent for a few moments; I don’t know whether she’s about to yell at me or bring my mother’s vase crashing down over my head. Maybe she’ll do both, in that order.
“Their uniform is gross.”
A laugh escapes my lips that doesn’t go down well.
“I’m never wearing that.”
“I imagine that’ll be fine for the first few days.”
“Purple is a shit colour.”
I think that’s her new favourite word. At least it’s better than fuck.
“I’m sure it’ll look great on you.”
She crosses her arms and raises her eyebrow.
“It’ll be fine, you’ll see. Apart from the shitty uniform.”
“Are you talking about me? Or about yourself?”
I sigh. “Both.” There’s no point lying to her. “We’ll find a way to get through this, Skylar. I promise.”
“She promised that, too.”
“What?”
“That everything would be fine.”
“Skylar…”
“I believed her. And now I’m stuck here, with you.”
“I’m sorry it’s me looking after you, now,” I tell her, sincerely.
“I’m sorry, too.”
And she seems even more sincere than me.
I open the door to three sixty-year-old-women leaving the room. I step inside, where I find her rolling up a mat.
“The fact that we’re forced to see each other now because you’re living with Mum and Dad doesn’t mean you can just turn up at my work.”
Apparently, every woman in this town has the same reaction just at the sight of me, family or not. Apart from my mother – luckily, she’s always the same.
“Why? Does your boss not like it?”
She glares at me. “There isn’t really a boss, here. We’re all partners.”
“Impressive.”
“I’m already fed up of your face.”
“Could you tell me what I’ve done to make you so pissed off with me?”
“We share the same DNA. I think that’s enough.”
I scoff and follow her towards the water fountain. She takes a cup and fills it to the brim, and I wait for her to finish drinking.
“I have another class in forty minutes, Niall. Tell me why you’re here and then go away.”
I don’t really know why I’m here; but I’ve been thinking about what Tyler said, about rebuilding my relationships. What better place to start than my own sister?
There’s a twenty-year age gap between me and Rian. That’s a huge difference – too huge – but my parents must have felt pretty lonely after I left, so… Rian happened. I was already living in Dublin when she was born: I already had my selfish, solitary life mapped out for me. I was in the initial throes of my dickhead phase. I never saw her grow up; I wasn’t there. I don’t know her, and she doesn’t know me – and maybe that’s not such a bad thing. It means that I can get to know her as the hopeless disaster I am today, and pray that she thinks I’m worthy of her time.
Rian is eighteen, but I sometimes worry that she’s the more mature sibling. When I was eighteen, I was still messing around, being an arsehole; she lives on her own, co-runs a gym, and has an air of maturity about her. She seems to know what she wants. And me? I’m living in my childhood bedroom, being bribed by the head teacher of my daughter’s school, and working a job I definitely wouldn’t have chosen to do. I slept with her – or, rather, she slept with me – and now I can’t seem to shake the smell of her from my mind, her soft body pressed against mine.
I’m fucked, from whatever way you look at it, and I can’t seem to find a way out. The only thing I can do is to try and make things better for Skylar. That’s why I’m here.
“You’re almost the same age,” I say to Rian. “You and Skylar.”
She glares at me again.
“And she has no friends.”
“Are you asking me if I’ll be her friend?”
“I’m asking you for a favour. I know that you hate me – even though I don’t know why – but, I’m begging you, don’t hate her. She has nothing to do with me, or anything I might have done to upset you.”
“I hate you because you deserve it.”
“I totally agree with you on that one.”
Rian laughs, shaking her head. “You’re not even trying to defend yourself.”
“That would be a waste of time.”
“So you know you’re a selfish dick who doesn’t deserve my help?”
“I agree with everything you’re saying, but please: don’t make Skylar pay for my mistakes.”
Rian reflects on this for an instant. “She seems bright.”
“She is.”
“Mature for her age.”
I smile. “Like you.”
“Don’t try and butter me up.”
“It’s the truth.”
She sighs and looks at me. “I like Skylar.”
“I’m sure she likes you, too.”
“I’d like to spend time with her, get to know her, seeing as you never thought of introducing her to her own family.”
“Thank
s, Rian.”
“You’re a disaster, Niall. You know that?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Are you planning to try to fix that disaster?”
“I’m working on it.”
I don’t know if I like my little sister talking to me like that, but right now, she seems better-prepared than me for anything life might throw at her. She seems to genuinely care about Skylar – so I’m not complaining.
I need all the help I can get. I’m a complete disaster – as a father and as a man – and I’m scared that I’ll never be able to make things right.
Niall
Tyler came over after his shift. My parents had already gone to bed, and my daughter locked herself into her room two hours ago, saying that she was tired; I know that she’s nervous about tomorrow, but she doesn’t want anyone to know that.
I wonder how much space I should give her, whether or not it’s the right answer. Maybe it would’ve been better to insist that she talk about it, make her open up, or see someone who could help her.
“Just see how it goes at school,” Tyler suggests.
We’re sitting on a bench in my parents’ back garden, surrounded by darkness and the sounds of the countryside.
“Sometimes I feel like a coward. Like I’m too afraid to face up to reality.”
“It’s never easy.”
“But that’s not an excuse.”
“You have nothing to prove, Niall. Not to anyone.” Tyler, as always, get straight to the point.
“I don’t know about that.”
“Give yourself a chance.”
“A chance,” I comment, taking a sip of my whisky. “I’m not even sure I deserve a chance.”
“What could you have done that’s so bad?”
I’ve done many things in my life that I’m not proud of, but now, a particular thought is pressing down on me.
“Do you believe it? The rumour about Mary Hannigan?”
“What is there to believe?”
“The version that everyone seems to believe: that I fucked her in the changing rooms then told everyone at school.”
“That’s a horrible rumour, mate. Good thing you left the county.”
“So you do believe it.”
“I’ll believe whatever you tell me.”
“I never slept with her.”
