So yeah, stealing was that little rush, that hit of relief I needed in order to deal with my mother’s constant criticism.
And little did she know, she was the reason for my multi-colored hair dyeing. A couple of years ago, after a rather intensive thieving session that had followed a particularly brutal argument with Mam, I’d come home with a bag full of outlandish colored hair dyes. I hadn’t wanted them to go to waste, and I thought it’d be kind of funky to have rainbow hair, so I’d set to work on my new ‘do. Somehow, the style choice stuck, and now every morning when I looked in the mirror the vibrant colors made me smile.
Oh, feck it. I couldn’t resist. Snagging the bottle, I dropped it discreetly into my bag and turned to leave. I’d just stepped outside when a voice called, “Hey! Wait!”
My heart began to race and heat flooded my cheeks. I’d been caught. It wouldn’t be the first time, but still, it didn’t get any less embarrassing or anxiety inducing to be found stealing. Nothing else for it, I turned and was met with a pair of eager brown eyes. Those eyes belonged to a young guy, about my age, and also an employee of the store. I waited for the expected spiel. He was going to ask me to step back inside so that he could search my bag. But then, that didn’t happen.
“Lucy? Lucy Fitzpatrick?” he asked hesitantly.
I glanced from side to side. How did he know my name? “Uh, yeah.”
He smiled. “I’m Ben, Ben O’Connor. We went to school together, remember? I used to sit by you in History class.”
If I was being honest, I didn’t remember. The guy was pretty unremarkable looking and I had a memory like a sieve. I actually had to use tricks sometimes in order to recall people’s names. For instance, when I first met my new friend in New York, Broderick, I kept envisioning him in a brown hat with helicopter wings and a long trench coat. That way my brain could make the connection of Inspector Gadget being played in the movie by Matthew Broderick, hence my new friend’s name was Broderick.
“Oh yeah!” I lied and smiled, while on the inside I was crapping myself. Had he seen me taking the nail polish? “I remember now. It’s been a while. How are you doing these days?”
“Great,” he replied with enthusiasm and I felt like asking, really? I couldn’t see how great it was still living in the same old town he’d grown up in. Plus, his hair line was starting to recede.
“That’s good.”
He nodded and slipped his hands in his pockets. “Yeah.”
A few seconds of ridiculously awkward silence ensued. I never got why people began conversations with you that went nowhere. It was like, don’t come up and talk to me when you’ve got nothing to say. It was just painful for both parties. Okay, so maybe I was being overly bitchy since I was still shitting it about the nail polish. Stupid tempting canary yellow. How was I supposed to resist such vibrancy? How?
“You look different these days,” said Ben finally.
I laughed nervously. “Different good or different bad?”
He shrugged. “Just different.”
“Must be that sex change I put in for.”
Ben just stared at me, the joke not registering. He scratched at his jaw. “Eh, yeah, so you know I’m a massive rugby fan, right?”
And the penny finally dropped. Here was the reason for the awkward conversation of pointlessness. Ben wanted something from me, maybe an autograph, or a meet and greet with my famous rugby playing brother. I loved Ronan to pieces, but his career meant that people often wanted to be friends with me because of who I shared DNA with. Kind of depressing, but I always tried to look on the bright side. Outweighing negativity with positivity was the key to a happy life, and being related to a famous person brought with it a lot of advantages. I always tried to concentrate on those. Plus, I was a naturally happy and bubbly person when I wasn’t dealing with my mam’s undermining influence.
“Oh, you are? That’s cool.”
Ben nodded. “So, do you think maybe you could get me into tonight’s party? I’d love to go and meet the team. Seriously, it’d be a dream come true.”
The Irish squad had just played their last game of the season, and tonight there was a big celebration going on to mark the occasion.
“Um, I’m not actually sure I can swing that, Ben. The party’s in a couple of hours.”
All of a sudden, Ben’s expression changed. He no longer appeared sheepishly polite, now he seemed cynical – cocky even. He stepped forward and narrowed his gaze. “Get me into the party and I won’t tell my manager about the nail crap you just stole.”
Oh no.
I swallowed, my attention flittering to the older man who was manning the service counter. It was ridiculous, but I felt a bit like crying. What a manipulative, blackmailing little shit. I didn’t let him see my tears, and instead held my head high.
“Fine,” I gritted. “I’ll make sure your name is on the guest list.”
I turned to leave.
“With a plus one?” Ben called after me. I wanted to punch him. Instead, I repeated a few lines from the Tao Te Ching that I often used while meditating. Ah, that was better. I was calmer now.