HAVING 13

10. Whether weather be the frost

JOHNNY
January 17th 2005

I sat next to Missy on a couch, Gibsie on her other side, asking her about her ex-boyfriend. As soon as he was mentioned, she tensed up.

I got him to drop it. At the perfect timing, his other best friend or Hughie's little sister, Claire, came in.

She wasn't there for him, though. She was there for Missy.

"Missy!" Claire screeched. She wasn't supposed to be in here, but I guess she had a reason. I couldn't give a shite.

That was a lie. Of course I cared.

"Hi, Claire." Missy stood up hesitantly as she expected a hug. Claire wrapped her up in her arms like she was a child that needed protection.

"Happy birthday, chickie."

Missy hugged her back, but obviously looked a little nervous.

Wait, what? Birthday?

"It's your birthday?" Gibsie took the words out of my mouth. "Why didn't you say?"

"Didn't figure it was that huge of a deal." She smiled awkwardly as Claire let her go.

"Claire-bear, how do you know Missy?" Gibsie also stood up now, so I took it as my cue to stand up too.

"She's Shannon's older sister." The blonde girl kept an arm around Missy's waist. She didn't mean to, but it obviously made her uncomfortable.

"Oh, right." Gibsie got lost in thought before erupting. "Shite, happy birthday, Missy-Miss!"

"Thank you," She giggled, seeming to be in a good mood. Her body language showed differently, though.

"Happy birthday." I gave her my best smile, and for some fucking reason, she eased up as she looked at me.

Her starry eyes sparked up and a genuine smile etched itself on her face slowly. After seconds, she finally said something. "Thanks, Johnny."

I was so happy she started calling me Johnny. Maybe she meant to say she was my friend?

Maybe I shouldn't be caring that much because she was distracting me.

Claire and Gibsie started making banter, so Missy and I stood there awkwardly.

"I would have bought you a gift if I knew it was your birthday," I started.

"That's fine, I don't take gifts." She nodded once.

"We could celebrate at Biddies, since you work there now," I offered.

"Well," She started. "I have a shift tonight. I can't-"

"Great idea, cap! Let's do it," Gibsie interrupted again, pleading with Missy. She sighed and dropped her shoulders.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," She huffed.

"Please, Missy," Claire added.

"Fine, but only you three." Immediately, Claire swept her up in a hug. She whispered something barely audible in her ear. I couldn't figure it out.

•

Later, that evening, Gibsie, Claire and I were sat at the bar in Biddies, while Missy stood behind it.

She had to continue serving while we sat there, but it wasn't a packed night, so she had some chances to come and talk to us.

I don't know how, but this girl floated above everything. She walked in between full tables effortlessly despite it being her first time working here. She brought people their beers within two minutes. She always had a smile ready, the realest-looking fake one I'd seen in a while.

Her shift ended in one more hour and we were all supposed to get home. Gibsie and Claire went home together, but I stayed on that stool, observing Missy from a distance.

She was so shy, but whenever she had to defend her sister, she was the loudest person in the room. I think that's something she had to do often, and that explained why she was known as Lynch Vicious.

Something about her tensing up around grown men, or when Brady was mentioned, or even when someone asked about when she was available to make plans, showed me that there was more going on than visible on the surface.

Not to mention, those marks. She had bruises shaped like handprints on her neck.

This morning, she came into school with a scarf on. She only took it off in class, and even then, she'd conveniently let her hair fall over her shoulders a whole lot.

She also had a busted lip. It was fucking scary to think about how that happened. I'd noticed it this morning, and I'm sure the others did too, but it was unspoken about.

Gibsie had mentioned Taggart had a temper when they were together—which, by the way, made me want to go right over and beat him to a pulp—and that could've explained it, but how do you explain it now? They weren't together anymore.

I decided to take my chances, being a bulldozer and all.

"Missy," I started once she took a breather behind the counter in front of me. "What are those bruises from?"

She froze up, like she always did. "Err, nothing," She laughed awkwardly. "I had a mosquito bite and rubbed too hard."

Bullshit. Bull fucking shit. She barely tried to lie!

"How come they're shaped like hands, though?" I was genuinely asking, okay?! It was weird and seemed like bull to me.

She just walked off without answering my question.

Right about here, my alarm bells really went off. Someone was hurting her.

My Da had talked my ear off with what his cases were about, and it bored me to tears, but that didn't mean that I never listened.

Whether it was that dope, Taggart Brady, or anyone else, I would figure it out.

Because this girl was an unpredictable dark cloud in my usually sunny world. If figuring her out meant walking into her storm, I would happily be rained on.