At Seventeen
Chapter 1
"I learned the truth at seventeen that love was meant
for beauty queens And high school girls with clear-skinned smiles who married
young and then retired. The valentines I never knew, the Friday night charades
of youth Were spent on one more beautiful. At seventeen I learned the
truth."
Eimear stared into the night sky. Beside her, Jane shivered. "You sure
you're okay, Eimear?" She'd asked this constantly, ever since they'd left
Dublin that morning. Eimear had always replied "Yeah, sure." But she
couldn't hold it in. The night seemed empty, she had to talk to someone.
"No I'm not." Jane looked up - even in the shadow, Eimear could see
her friend's dark eyes flash with concern, the lights of the town reflected in
them. "Is it John?"
Yeah, John. Eimear's ex. They'd split up two weeks ago quite amicably, but
Eimear was still down about it. Oh, she'd known the relationship was drawing to
an end, but she felt undermined somewhat. John was twenty, Eimear, meanwhile,
just seventeen. The fact that he had left her for Tara, a 21-year-old Art
student, did no wonders for Eimear's ego. "Kind of. It's just that I'm not
interested in lads my own age. For a while John was all I wanted, but I don't
think I ever meant that much to him. Not ever."
"Eimear, he told you it was nothing to do with your age."
"Maybe." She sounded uncertain. "Eimear, he wouldn't lie.
Look," said Jane, rising from where she had been sitting on the steps of
the Silver Swan Hotel, "we are going to have the biggest party ever. My
brother has a few mates here in Sligo, and they told me about all the places to
go to. And you'll be eighteen. Not every day you can celebrate that."
Eimear smiled for the first time in ages, and joined Jane, looking out over the
river at the circling swans. Neither of them spoke. Eimear sang the song she'd
heard that morning, "At Seventeen". She had a good voice. Jane
listened, enthralled. "And dreams were all they gave away for free to ugly
duckling girls like me." "You're not a duckling, you're a swan,"
Jane grinned. "Yeah, with a long neck," said Eimear cynically. They
both laughed. When their giggling had died down, Jane imitated Eimear's mother.
"And who would have you anyway?"
"I would," said a Dublin voice from behind them. It sounded familiar
to Eimear, though she couldn't tell where she'd heard it from. From the look on
Jane's face, she knew. They turned around, but couldn't see anyone.
"John!" cried Jane angrily into the darkness. John? Eimear thought. I
know he'd joked about following us to Sligo, but...
"Come closer." She heard him again now. It was definitely not John.
"You're behind that wall," said Jane, fuming. "This is not funny,
John." "It's not him." Eimear found herself smiling. "How
would you know?" "Because she's right." A tall, blond young man
stood in front of them, his eyebrows raised questioningly at them. Eimear could
hear Jane mutter under her breath - "Oh my God, it's Bryan from
Westlife."
Jane was in complete shock, but not Eimear. She gave Bryan a slow smile. "Hiya."
"Hiya yourself," he replied, returning the smile. "Sorry if I
scared ya there, but I couldn't resist two gorgeous girls on their own on a
winter's night. Especially with Dublin accents." "Yeah, we're from
Dublin." Jane had regained some composure.
"Yeah? Whereabouts?" Jane fell silent, tongue tied again. Eimear told
him. "Do you know it? It's Southside, of course, so you mightn't..."
"Know it? Me auntie lives there!" "You're kidding me!"
"Nah, swear I'm not! When I was a kid I spent half me time up there,
getting penny sweets up in Fitzgeralds newsagents." "It's still going
strong." "I should think so, I spent enough money there!" They
both laughed. Eimear felt easy in his company. His blue eyes twinkled as he
looked over at her. She inhaled deeply, and awkwardly tugged at her watch.
"We have to get going. Have a few calls to make and that." Jane looked
surprised and a bit put out, but Bryan just sighed. "Me too. I have to get
to Kian's house. That's the whole reason I'm in Sligo apparently. He wants a
lads night out. It won't work, I've told him, 'cause Nicky won't leave Dublin
and Mark has the 'flu, but he insisted I come up. I don't know what it is."
"Mark has the 'flu?" cried Jane. "Is he alright?" "Well
it's the 'flu," said Bryan, shrugging. "But yeh, he'll be okay."
"So you're not going out tonight?" "Why, do you want to come with
us?" "No worries," smiled Eimear. "We have plans
already." "Oh well." He grinned. "And, eh, who is this John
guy?" He was halfway up the road by this stage so he was too far from her
to see her shaking fist.
Jane stared after him. "I can't believe he's so normal." Eimear could
have echoed those sentiments but she was too busy thinking of the bizarreness of
their meeting.