Not My Problem

I sent Mam three texts during the day to see if she was awake. She didn’t answer and I kept checking my phone during class. Eventually I just turned the ringer on because I thought it was better than checking it every two minutes and getting in trouble that way. Of course last class of the day I got a reply and Mr. Smith practically ate the face off the class trying to figure out whose text tone was an audio clip of Kristen Stewart saying, “I am, like, so gay, dude.” Thankfully either no one knew it was me or they weren’t going to tout.

MAM

All good love, don’t worry. Will make you dinner tonight.

There were three heart emojis in different colors and a GIF of a kitten rolling over. I guess that was meant to be an apology? Now that I knew she was okay, I felt a mixture of relief and dread. I was glad she hadn’t expired in a pool of her own vomit but I didn’t want to face whatever state she was in. Whatever she said about making dinner, she had to be seriously hungover—or worse, she had already knocked a few into her so she could face the day.

I was loitering by my locker, clearing out the discarded scraps of paper that lined the bottom like a hamster’s nest, when Holly sidled up beside me. She’d ignored me all day and I had a pit in my stomach over it. Luckily I’d had my Maths homework, Angela and Meabh, and the ever-increasing worry that Mam was going to be fired and we’d be really fucked to distract me.

Holly leaned up against the locker next to mine and flashed me a grin. She tugged on a lock of my hair and then pouted. I sighed. She rummaged in her skirt pocket and pulled out a lip balm. The peppermint one that I like but will not (cannot) pay €4.99 for.

Really? You’re not even going to say sorry? You’re going to offer me some kind of scrap that I’m supposed to take as an apology? The lip balm is cheaper than the word, apparently.

I took it from her and unwrapped the cellophane, thinking that Meabh would be annoyed that there was unnecessary plastic. Could you recycle this kind? What was the rule? If you can scrunch it up you can’t put in the recycling? I couldn’t remember so I put the curl of plastic in my pocket to google later.

“Tingly,” I said, smacking my lips after I’d applied the lip balm.

Holly smiled and then hugged me.

“Sorry,” she said. “I was being a raging bitch.”

Are you only saying sorry after I’ve already accepted your faux apology? Is that so I can’t get mad at you because I’ve already forgiven you? She always did this. Made it impossible for me to stay mad without looking like I was the asshole.

“You’re stressed. You loved the paper.”

“Yeah, it’s that.” Holly nodded. “Definitely that’s been awful. But you’ve also never kept anything from me before.”

You mean anything that mattered to you. I’ve kept plenty from you the last couple of years. But you don’t want to hear about being poor and Mam drinking. It makes you feel sorry for me.

I had to tell myself to stop it. I could feel myself getting angry and if I let those thoughts take over we’d get into another argument.

“I’m not really keeping it from you. I told you the gist of things.”

“It doesn’t matter. I get why you need to be confidential. But it feels like you’re cutting me out of this big part of your life.”

She leaned in and rested her forehead against mine. It made my eyes blurry and my heart ache.

At the same time a flare of warmth lit me up from the inside, and I followed that feeling instead. The one that erased all the bad feelings. Holly just wanted to be close to me. That was all it took to dissolve the crusty, calcifying stone of resentment that had been building in me. I pulled away.

“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to a roll of paper she’d propped up next to the lockers.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She grinned. “These are my campaign posters.”

“Campaign posters?”

This was not a campaign poster kind of school. One year a girl who was running for secretary lost to a write-in vote for a meme, but that was the most invested students had ever been. Unfortunately, “egg that is bigger than before” was determined not to have legally won the election and Sorcha O’Brien ended up secretary after all.

Holly picked up the roll and unfurled one of the posters. It was like any campaign poster you’d see in real life. A big picture of Holly’s face against a neutral background. VOTE HOLLY FOR CLASS PRESIDENT.

“Wanna help me put them up?” she said with puppy-dog eyes.

I thought about Mam at home waiting for me.

Then I thought about how I’d waited all night for her.

“Sure.”

Holly handed me a chunk of Blu-Tack and we got two chairs from a nearby classroom to stand on as we worked on plastering the atrium with pictures of her face. It was more or less deserted.

“Well, are you going to tell me how it works, then, or not?” Holly said, sticking her first poster up by the door.

“The . . . the social enterprise?” I said, remembering Kavi’s words. Even though the atrium was empty it made me nervous talking about it out in the open.

Holly snorted. “The social enterprise? Where’d you learn that?”

That’s right. I’m so stupid I couldn’t possibly know something.

She didn’t mean that to sound the way it did. After all, I hadn’t heard of a social enterprise before yesterday, so I could hardly get on my high horse about it.

“Mr. Smith. He was going on about it the other day. You know how transition years are supposed to do a business project? I mean, I don’t think this would count to him, but I realized that it kind of fit.”

For some reason I didn’t want to bring up Kavi. He could get in trouble over these escapades. He already had. My confidentiality should cover his ass more than anyone’s.

Holly jumped off her chair and dragged it a couple of feet along. “Fit how? What exactly do you do?”

“Well, I do people favors. And then they owe me a favor.”

“Does that kid Kavi have something to do with it?”

So much for confidentiality.

I tried to make him sound like he was incidental. “Sometimes people have asked him to ask me.”

“How did it start?”

Why did this feel like an interrogation?

“Uh . . . Kavi. He brought me someone. A friend.”

I didn’t love lying to Holly, but there was no way I was telling her the truth.

Holly looked dubious but she didn’t press it.

“What are your plans this weekend?” I said, trying to change the subject. “We could do something?”

I had to break Daniel out on Saturday night but I was free the rest of the day. It was a simple fix; it should go off without a hitch.

“Visiting my nan Saturday. Might be free Sunday afternoon but I’m not sure yet. I’ll text you on Sunday if I get home early and I’m not too tired.”

Right, because I couldn’t possibly make other plans. I’d just be waiting around for you to maybe be free.

“Sure, you can let me know,” I said.

When we were done we backed into the middle of the atrium and surveyed our work. One thing stood out. Holly gave me a sidelong look.

All my posters were stuck up about foot lower than hers. She slung her arm over my shoulder and we burst out laughing.