SKYFALL, Johnny Kavanagh

Odd one out

Maeve's Point of View

Gibsie and Johnny were late.

Very late.

And the longer I sat at this table, surrounded by people who belonged, the more I felt like an outsider.

Like a misplaced puzzle piece shoved into the wrong box.

Niamh was deep in conversation with Patrick Feely, debating some rugby match like it was life or death. Hughie, meanwhile, was too occupied with his girlfriend, Katie Wilmot – which I had met a few times thanks to Aoife and Casey – to acknowledge anyone else.

The rest of the table was made up of the rugby team—boys I didn't know, boys I didn't trust.

I wasn't stupid.

I'd been around athletes before. I knew exactly what they were like.

And if Niamh was to be believed, most of these lads weren't worth the time it took to remember their names.

I was on my own here.

I debated texting Gibsie, but what was I supposed to say? Hurry up, I don't know how to act like a normal human in social settings?

Instead, I stood, leaned down to Niamh, and muttered, "If the waiter comes by, just order me a Seven Up."

Without waiting for a response, I left.

As soon as I got to the bathroom it was like a switch flipped.
My hands gripped the porcelain sink.
My fingers started shaking.

I need to get a grip.

Exhaling a rough breath, I looked in the mirror and tried to focus on something else.
Anything but the fact that everything still hurt.
My abdomen, while much better, still burned and the more I focused on it, the worse it got.

I could feel the dull ache in my ribs, a lingering reminder of just how not okay I was.

Lifting my t-shirt slightly, I checked the bandages wrapped around my abdomen. The cut wasn't bleeding anymore, but the skin around it was still tender, still healing.

Don't panic.
Don't panic.
Don't panic.

I was not the at the house.
I was at a restaurant.
He wasn't here.
He couldn't hurt me.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror and – glad I had brought my purse with me – I took out my compact and started putting on some more setting powder on the parts of my face that needed it.
The parts where the make-up could not fade away.
The shiner on my cheek and my still somewhat puffy eye.

I took another long breath and tried relaxing my hands.
I am safe.

The pain and the anxiety were still there, but after yesterday they had gotten substantially better.
I was no longer crushed carrying the weight of my secrets because for the first time in a very long while, I could share them with someone.

I wasn't alone and for now that was enough.

I checked the bruises on my arms again and I was happy to see that they were finally getting better.
They were starting to fade, going from a deep purple to a light yellow.
In a few more days, they'd be gone completely.

Just in time for new ones to take their place.

I pushed that thought away.
For today, I was here.
For today, I wouldn't be hurt.
For today, I wouldn't be afraid.

So, I put the compact back in my purse and walked out of the bathroom.

For today, I would be okay.

As it turned out, both Gibsie and Johnny had arrived together while I was in the bathroom – and so had the waiter who had already brought a Seven Up to where I was supposed to be sitting.