Craving Resurrection
Page 28
I felt the tears roll down my cheeks as we hit the cold air outside, and I couldn’t help the shudder that ran through my body. Threats of my father’s wrath had been something I’d cowered from for most of my life, and it hadn’t magically stopped just because I’d be sleeping somewhere else that night. She’d been so horrible, and I didn’t understand it. I was doing what she wanted! I’d done everything she’d told me to, and she treated me as if I’d wronged her in some way.
“She told me I had to move,” I said, glancing up at Patrick’s furious face. “I swear—they told me I only had two more weeks.”
“I knew she was lyin’,” he replied, giving me a reassuring nod. “She’s just mad dat she didn’t have de satisfaction of bootin’ ye into de street.”
My breath stopped at his observation, her actions suddenly so transparent, it caused an ache in my chest. How could someone be that vindictive, I wondered, to be angry that they weren’t able to kick their child out with nowhere to go? Had she been expecting me to beg them to let me stay? I’d foiled whatever scenario they’d been envisioning, that was why she’d been so mad. It only made her threats about my father coming for me more frightening.
Peg was bustling around in the kitchen when we walked in the door, and she didn’t notice us as Patrick pulled the box out of my arms and set it on the couch.
“Ye don’t ever have to go back dere,” he promised, pulling me into his arms.
“They’re my family,” I reminded him quietly. For better or worse.
“Ye’ve got a new one.” His voice was resolute and a little bit raw, and as soon as he’d finished speaking he dropped his lips to mine, and kissed me hard. “I’ll bring yer boxes into de bedroom.”
Then he walked away, leaving me reeling.
It was all happening so fast that I couldn’t settle on one emotion before another popped up and clouded my head. I was grateful, so overwhelmingly grateful that Peg was going to let me stay with her… but I was confused and scared, too.
Even though I’d gotten little from my parents over the years in the way of stability, they were still my parents. They’d still raised me from childhood and kept a roof over my head and food in my belly. I’d imagined finding somewhere to live and still being able to have some sort of contact with them, some kind of safety net—but my mom’s reaction to my departure was a clear indication that any relationship was gone. They didn’t want me.
I’d known Peg for only a few months, and though she’d never given me reason to doubt her, I still knew in the back of my head that she could throw me out at any time and I’d be homeless in an unfamiliar country. If my parents—the two people that should have loved me more than anything else—didn’t want me around, why would Peg be any different?
Chapter 15
Amy
“Amy, yer goin’ to be late!” Patrick yelled through the bathroom door as I smoothed my uniform over my hips.
It was my first day back to school since I’d moved to Peg’s, and for some reason I was nervous. Peg had contacted the school to let them know that I was living with her in case my parents tried to cause problems, and I knew she was doing what she thought best, but the thought of everyone knowing my parents had kicked me out made me feel like I was going to be sick. God only knew what sort of stories people would make up about my living arrangements.
“I’m ready,” I mumbled, brushing past him to get my bag.
“Don’t ye look sweet and innocent.”
“Shut up.”
“Such a good little girl, on her way to school right on time.”
“Shut up, Patrick!”
“How many times have I asked ye to call me Trick? I hope ye listen better in class den ye do out of it.” His voice was teasing, and I knew what he was doing, but I still let him get to me.
“Sorry, Paddy,” I replied, opening the door and sailing through it before he could reply.
“Ugh, don’t call me dat.” He called, locking the door behind us before jogging to catch up to me. “Dat’s not me name.”
His voice was so disgusted, I had to laugh. “Why Trick?”
“Because it’s not Paddy.”
“You’re nuts.”
“I t’ought it was cool, okay?” Patrick replied sheepishly. “When I was about eleven, I t’ought it was de absolute best nickname in de world and I refused to answer to anyt’in' else for a year.”
“An entire year?” The thought of a little carrot-topped Patrick turning up his nose and refusing to answer to anything but the name he’d chosen had me in a fit of giggles.
“We’re almost dere, and if ye don’t want me givin’ de Sisters somet’in’ to talk about, ye’ll quit laughin’,” he warned as a red flush began creeping up his neck.
The heat in his eyes left no doubt as to the show he was about to put on, so I pressed my lips tightly together in order to hold the laughter back. He was so… charming. Every time I thought I knew him, he gave me something else to think about.
He’d also taken my mind off the nervous butterflies in my stomach.
“Here we are,” he announced with a flourish as we reached the school. For the first time since I’d started there, I hated that the walk was so short.
“Thank you, Patrick,” I said softly, leaning up to kiss his cheek before turning away and walking quickly toward the front door of the school.
“She told me I had to move,” I said, glancing up at Patrick’s furious face. “I swear—they told me I only had two more weeks.”
“I knew she was lyin’,” he replied, giving me a reassuring nod. “She’s just mad dat she didn’t have de satisfaction of bootin’ ye into de street.”
My breath stopped at his observation, her actions suddenly so transparent, it caused an ache in my chest. How could someone be that vindictive, I wondered, to be angry that they weren’t able to kick their child out with nowhere to go? Had she been expecting me to beg them to let me stay? I’d foiled whatever scenario they’d been envisioning, that was why she’d been so mad. It only made her threats about my father coming for me more frightening.
Peg was bustling around in the kitchen when we walked in the door, and she didn’t notice us as Patrick pulled the box out of my arms and set it on the couch.
“Ye don’t ever have to go back dere,” he promised, pulling me into his arms.
“They’re my family,” I reminded him quietly. For better or worse.
“Ye’ve got a new one.” His voice was resolute and a little bit raw, and as soon as he’d finished speaking he dropped his lips to mine, and kissed me hard. “I’ll bring yer boxes into de bedroom.”
Then he walked away, leaving me reeling.
It was all happening so fast that I couldn’t settle on one emotion before another popped up and clouded my head. I was grateful, so overwhelmingly grateful that Peg was going to let me stay with her… but I was confused and scared, too.
Even though I’d gotten little from my parents over the years in the way of stability, they were still my parents. They’d still raised me from childhood and kept a roof over my head and food in my belly. I’d imagined finding somewhere to live and still being able to have some sort of contact with them, some kind of safety net—but my mom’s reaction to my departure was a clear indication that any relationship was gone. They didn’t want me.
I’d known Peg for only a few months, and though she’d never given me reason to doubt her, I still knew in the back of my head that she could throw me out at any time and I’d be homeless in an unfamiliar country. If my parents—the two people that should have loved me more than anything else—didn’t want me around, why would Peg be any different?
Chapter 15
Amy
“Amy, yer goin’ to be late!” Patrick yelled through the bathroom door as I smoothed my uniform over my hips.
It was my first day back to school since I’d moved to Peg’s, and for some reason I was nervous. Peg had contacted the school to let them know that I was living with her in case my parents tried to cause problems, and I knew she was doing what she thought best, but the thought of everyone knowing my parents had kicked me out made me feel like I was going to be sick. God only knew what sort of stories people would make up about my living arrangements.
“I’m ready,” I mumbled, brushing past him to get my bag.
“Don’t ye look sweet and innocent.”
“Shut up.”
“Such a good little girl, on her way to school right on time.”
“Shut up, Patrick!”
“How many times have I asked ye to call me Trick? I hope ye listen better in class den ye do out of it.” His voice was teasing, and I knew what he was doing, but I still let him get to me.
“Sorry, Paddy,” I replied, opening the door and sailing through it before he could reply.
“Ugh, don’t call me dat.” He called, locking the door behind us before jogging to catch up to me. “Dat’s not me name.”
His voice was so disgusted, I had to laugh. “Why Trick?”
“Because it’s not Paddy.”
“You’re nuts.”
“I t’ought it was cool, okay?” Patrick replied sheepishly. “When I was about eleven, I t’ought it was de absolute best nickname in de world and I refused to answer to anyt’in' else for a year.”
“An entire year?” The thought of a little carrot-topped Patrick turning up his nose and refusing to answer to anything but the name he’d chosen had me in a fit of giggles.
“We’re almost dere, and if ye don’t want me givin’ de Sisters somet’in’ to talk about, ye’ll quit laughin’,” he warned as a red flush began creeping up his neck.
The heat in his eyes left no doubt as to the show he was about to put on, so I pressed my lips tightly together in order to hold the laughter back. He was so… charming. Every time I thought I knew him, he gave me something else to think about.
He’d also taken my mind off the nervous butterflies in my stomach.
“Here we are,” he announced with a flourish as we reached the school. For the first time since I’d started there, I hated that the walk was so short.
“Thank you, Patrick,” I said softly, leaning up to kiss his cheek before turning away and walking quickly toward the front door of the school.
