Instead, I felt warm.
My thoughts were nice and slow.
It always happened when I sat next to Shannon Lynch.
It made me want to sit with her forever.
“Thank you,” she offered, shoulders shaking. “I’ve never had a friend stick up for me before.”
“I’ll always stick up for you,” I promised. “And Claire,” I hurried to add, thinking about the curly-haired girl in our class who had become my friend since starting big school lastmonth. Claire was loud and funny, and she made me feel happy. Shannon was quiet and calm and made me feel safe.
I was nervous when I started at Sacred Heart Primary School. It was a lot different from the school I used to go to that helped me to get my words out when they got stuck in my throat. But the grown-ups said I was doing such a good job that I wasfinallyready to go tothisschool now. I wasn’t sure what any of it meant, but I was nervous about moving schools and starting in junior infants. All the other kids in my class were four and five, and I was afraid they might think there was something wrong with me.
When our teacher walked me over to a round table and sat me next to a small girl with dark brown hair, I felt out of place. But when Shannon smiled and told me this was her second time in junior infants and that she was turning six next March, I felt better. That feeling only grew when I realized that I already knew her big brother, Darren. He was friends with Caoimhe, and I’d even met him a couple of times. He looked just like Shannon and was just as nice as her, too.
A little while later, the teacher brought another girl over to sit with us. She wasn’t shy like Shannon or strange like me. This girl looked like sunshine. Everyone wanted to sit with Claire Biggs and be her best friend, but she only wanted to sit with us and beourbest friend.
“Why does your mammy have a scarf on her head?” Shannon asked then, distracting me from my thoughts.
“She doesn’t have any hair,” I replied, swinging my legs back and forth. “It fell out when she got sick.”
“Oh.” Her small hand covered mine. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I smiled back at her. “She got sick before and it grew back.” I shrugged. “Once she’s better again, she’ll get it back again.”
Shannon looked at me for a long time before whispering, “You’re different, Lizzie Young.”
“I am?”
She nodded and smiled. “You’re special.”
“Is that bad?”
“No.” She shook her head, still smiling. “You remind me of Joe.”
“Your brother?”
“Yep.” She nodded again. “And that’s a very good thing.”
“Calm down, Mike,” Mam said for the tenth time since we left my school. Sitting in the front seat next to Dad, she placed her hand on his knee and said, “It’s not the end of the world,” before turning around to wink at me.
Clasping my hands together tightly, I smiled back at my mother. I loved looking at her face. Mam had kind eyes, dark blue like Caoimhe’s, and she had my favorite voice. It was soft and gentle and wrapped around me like a hug. Daddy had blue eyes, too, but they looked pale and sad. Like mine.
“Calm down?” Dad shook his head, and I felt the car speed up. “Catherine, she bit a boy in her class. Like a feral fucking dog.” He sounded so angry. I didn’t like it. “What’s the point in spending a fortune on therapists when she reacts like that at the drop of a hat?”
“He pushed Shannon,” I heard myself say, growing angry. “He was being a bully, Daddy.”
“Did he push you?” Dad demanded, glaring at me in the rearview mirror. “Did he put his hands on you?”
Shaking my head, I turned to look out my window. “No, Daddy.”
“Then you had no right to put your hands on him,” Dad replied. “You’re lucky you weren’t expelled for that stunt, Elizabeth. God knows, they had bloody good reason to.”
“But hepushedShannon,” I argued back, feeling my skin grow hot as my eyes followed the raindrops splattering against the window. “He pushed myfriend.” Was I saying it wrong? Why couldn’t he hear me? “He’s a mean boy, Daddy,” I added, hands balling into fists on my lap. “He pulled Claire’s hair last week, and he made her cry on the first day of school, too.”
“Enough!” Dad snapped, banging his fist on the steering wheel. “I mean it. Don’t try to excuse your behavior because there is no justifying biting another child viciously enough to make him bleed!”
Breathing hard and fast, I glared at the back of his seat, trying so hard not to scream. To not jump out of my seat and scratch him. I didn’t want to make my mother sad again, but I could feel it growing inside of me.
