Teenage Kicks
Eight months before leaving
I hate my curly hair. I hate my red hair. I hate my curly, red hair. I hate that Jody Wright and his mates call me Curly Hurley at every opportunity. I walk out of the village-hall youth club away from them, my head held high. I should be used to it by now, but it still hurts.
‘Hey, it’s Erin, isn’t it?’
I stop dead in my tracks as in front of me Niall Marshall is sitting in his car, smoking a cigarette, the driver’s window is wound down and a plume of smoke floats out. He looks pretty cool. I throw a glance over to the passenger seat. His mate, Shane Wright, is sitting with him. They are listening to some drum-and-base music. Shane flicks his cigarette out of the window and nods in acknowledgement of me.
I realise Niall is waiting for an answer. I must try to play it cool. Niall Marshall is a bit of a catch in the quiet backwaters of Rossway. Nearly all the girls in my year have a crush on him. I swallow hard and, resting my hand on my hip, I stick it out to one side and place one foot slightly in front of the other.
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ I say.
‘You not staying at the youth club, then?’ he asks.
I shake my head. ‘It’s boring.’
‘Full of kids, right?’ Niall looks over at Shane and they both laugh.
‘There’s nothing else to do in this village,’ I say, as justification for being there.
‘Is that right?’ muses Niall. He leans over and mumbles something to Shane that I can’t make out. I’m not sure whether I should stay where I am or carry on home. Back to where life is even duller. I can’t wait to leave school and get out of this place.
I feel a bit of an idiot standing there and the pose is making my leg hurt.
Shane gets out of the car, saying his goodbyes to Niall. He holds the door open and gestures for me to come over.
‘Aren’t you going to get in, then?’ asks Niall.
‘Am I?’
‘Come on, I’ll take you for a ride. It won’t be boring, I promise.’
I look back at the youth club door, the sounds of some club mix blares out. I look beyond Niall’s car at the road leading to the flat, where I live with my mum and dad. There’s no contest.
I’m sitting beside Niall. I want to squeal with delight and excitement, but I keep it in. He’s two years older than me and the coolest thing since I don’t know what. He flicks the control on his iPod, which is plugged into his stereo and ‘Teenage Kicks’ by The Undertones blasts out from the speakers. I grin to myself and, as I fasten my seat belt, Niall blips the throttle and does whatever you do with the pedals to make the wheels spin for a few seconds, before we lurch forward and Niall floors it. We speed down the High Street. I’m with Niall Marshall! Woohoo!
We drive around the village for a while. As usual, it’s pretty quiet. There’s not much going on in Rossway. There never is.
‘So, where do you want to go?’ he asks.
‘I thought you were going to take me somewhere exciting,’ I say. To be truthful, I don’t mind where we go. If I’m with Niall, I really don’t care. I wonder briefly what Roisin would say if she knew I was out with her older brother. I don’t know if she would be happy. Anyway, she’s with Jody and his crowd. I don’t know why I feel any loyalty towards her, it’s not as if she ever sticks up for me when they start taking the mickey.
‘I know, let’s go out to The Spit,’ says Niall. ‘We can get burger and chips from the takeaway and eat it there.’ The Spit looks out onto the Irish Sea, jutting out from the coastline for about half a mile.
I smile at him. ‘That sounds great,’ I say, even though I’m not really hungry. Mum always makes sure I have some tea at the café before they close at the end of the day. I had a burger tonight, but I’m sure a burger with Niall will taste better than one from the café.
It’s peaceful out at The Spit. We come to a stop in the car park and look out across the dark water, the clouds cross the path of the moon, allowing snatches of light to peak out for only a minute or two.
I eat my burger and I was right. It does taste better.
‘Why were you leaving the youth club early?’ Niall asks.
‘I was actually a bit bored,’ I reply.
‘I think everyone grows out of it after a while. You’re what, sixteen now?’ says Niall through a mouthful of burger.
‘That’s right.’ I feel grown up that I’m sixteen, it sounds so much better than being the fifteen I was a month ago. I like being one of the oldest in the school year.
‘I can’t wait to get away from here,’ says Niall as he screws up the burger wrapper and drops it into the brown-paper takeaway bag. ‘Only one more year in the sixth form and then I’m off to university.’
‘Where are you going?’ I ask, ignoring the little flicker of disappointment that he will only be about for another year.
‘Dublin. If I get my grades, that is,’ he says. ‘I’m going to study law.’
‘Wow! You want to be a lawyer? You must be clever.’
Niall laughs. ‘A little. My mam’s got high hopes for me. She wants me to go into company law – where the money is.’
He imitates his mother’s voice and I laugh.
‘But what about you? Is that what you want to do?’ I ask.
‘I want to represent people who can’t afford a proper solicitor. I want to make a stand for the underdog. Mam doesn’t get that at all. She’s all right, really,’ he says with a smile. ‘She says she just wants what’s best for me. She’s a bit of a control freak at times.’
‘Sounds like my dad. It’s his way or no way. My dad isn’t ambitious for me, though. He’d be happy for me to work in the café when I leave school.’
‘Do you want to?’
‘No way. It’s bad enough having to work in there at the weekends and during school holidays. When I leave school I want to go to college and do a beautician’s course.’
‘What like, make-up and leg wax, that sort of thing?’
‘Yes. I want to have my own salon one day. Be my own boss.’
‘And will your dad let you?’
‘He doesn’t think I’ll stick at it. I’d like to live with my sister, Fiona.’ I fold up the last bit of burger in the wrapper. ‘She lives in London with her husband.’
‘How old is she?’
‘Twenty-four. We get on really well despite the big age gap. I’d be lost without her sometimes.’
‘I’ve only got Roisin,’ says Niall. He pulls a face, which makes me laugh again. ‘I know she’s your friend and all that, but as a sister she’s a feckin’ pain at times. She’s another control freak. I think she must get it from Mam. My poor dad is going to be spending even more time hiding from them at work once I leave home. He says he going to get a huge man-shed in the garden and take up model train-making.’
A small silence settles between us as we