.Song Rec: Teenage Kicks by The Undertones

Chapter Two

New Kid on the Block

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Just when you think the woman can't sink any lower," Erin raged. "She pulls something like this."

Clare nodded vehemently. "Aye, I'm ragin' for you, James."

They had sprawled themselves out in the living room. Erin, James, and Clare on the couch, and Michelle perched on the arm of her Da's chair, of which Orla was slouched upon, engrossed in her new Tamagotchi. She'd won the toy after entering a Girl Talk Magazine art contest, and hadn't put the thing down since.

"She's the devil incarnate!" Erin spluttered, passionately. "I can't believe she would do something so cold-blooded, so heinous."

"I can," said Michelle, though her tone lacked its usual bite.

"You can say you told me so, Michelle," said James. "I know you're dying to."

There was a brief silence, and all that could be heard was the obnoxious beeping coming from Orla's Tamagotchi. And just when they were starting to think that Michelle had the decency to keep her mouth shut this time, she piped up, unable to control herself.

"Well, I did tell you so."

"Michelle!"

"It's fine, Erin, really," he said, squirming beneath their pitiful eyes, Michelle's especially. "If anything, it's brought me closure. I've always had an inkling that she regretted having me, and now I finally know where we stand," he regarded them, softly, despite the sadness in his eyes. "And you barmy lot are all the family I need."

Clare's lip wobbled, in awe with James' warm words. She leaned toward him and placed her head on his shoulder. "We're glad to have you back, James."

Michelle feigned a retch. While James smiled, one that wilted slightly when Erin placed her head against his chest and wrapped an arm around his middle. She smelled refreshing, like citrusy sun-lotion.

"I second that," she hummed.

James' heart stuttered like a stone across water, then sped up even further when it occurred to him that she might be able to feel it pounding in his chest.

He'd only back in Derry for ten minutes, and he was already back to what he did best – making things between himself and Erin weirder than they needed to be.

Was he tensing too much?

Breathing at an odd rhythm?

Maybe he ought to hold his breath altogether.

No, bad idea. That would definitely seem unnatural.

What if he just gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze? That seemed like a good option. It was better than just sitting there like a statue.

He moved his hand just as the front door opened. Erin lifted her head to look toward the sound but left her hand on James' chest.

" Christ, but I'm gaggin' for a beer."

Martin Mallon, in his fluorescent jacket and grubby trousers, trudged into the living room after a laborious morning of bricklaying. He was breathless and tugging on the front of his brick-dusted t-shirt to cool himself down. His bushy eyebrows shot up when he saw Erin and Clare snuggled up to his nephew.

"How a scrawny wee limey like you manages this," he gestured to them collectively. "I will never understand. You're one jammy fecker, James."

"Erm...thank you?" He frowned, not sure whether to be offended or flattered.

"How was your Ma, by the way?"

"I don't know," James told him. "She sold the house and disappeared."

"Ah, crying shame that," said Martin with a click of his tongue, as if it were a minor inconvenience.

"What's got you out of breath, Da?" Michelle asked.

"That stunner from across the road, with the big knockers," he grinned, squeezing the air with both hands. A jape that would certainly earn him a dead-arm if he came out with it in Deidre's presence.

Michelle laughed.

"Nah, it's that mental cat the O'Neills' have got. Chased me down the fucking street, so it did. Our Sean saw the whole thing and he told me that loads of people have complained about it. Apparently, Mrs O'Neill is to see a priest about an exorcism. What a waste of a man's time. A bit o' holy water won't do anythin', it needs euthanising!"

Oh, how James had missed Derry.

"Maybe it was already euthanised," Orla chimed in, speaking for the first time since they arrived at the Mallons'. "Maybe it's a Vampire cat."

Erin rolled her eyes. "Christ, I knew we shouldn't have watched The Lost Boys last night."

"Aye, could well be, lass, " Martin said to Orla, humouring her. "Anyway, you wains need to get a shift on. I've only got an hour's lunch break, and I don't want to spend it listenin' to your teenage bullshit," he told them, with a bluntness typical of a Mallon. "No offence."

"Can I borrow a couple' a quid for the Caf then, Da?" Asked Michelle.

Martin slapped some loose change in his daughter's hand. "That's your lot, now get the fuck out of my living room, " he ordered. "And mind out for that cat!"

As they set off for the Café, they made sure to take the long way around to avoid the O'Neills' cat. Michelle had to yank Orla — whose eyes were glued to her Tamagotchi, out the path of a lampost. Then, Erin excitedly gripped James' arm. "Ooh!" She exclaimed, and he looked at her with confused amusement, his gaze silk-soft as it always was when he regarded Erin. "You'll never guess what Clare's gone and done while you were away."

James looked at Clare with intrigue. "What did you do, Clare?"

Clare beamed proudly. "I pa—"

"She passed her driving test!" Erin cut in. "Isn't that class?!"

Clare shared her exasperation with James, glancing at him with a tight-lipped expression that prompted him to swoop in before any tensions could be sparked. Erin was easily blinkered by her emotions. But however grating it could sometimes be, she meant well.

"See? I told you you were fretting over nothing!" he praised. "Congratulations."

"Thank ye," she replied timidly.

"Tell him what else," Erin encouraged, nudging her with her elbow. "Go on!"

"All right, Erin!" Clare snapped, still annoyed at her for stealing her thunder. "My folks are buying me a car for my eighteenth."

"Ak, that's cracker!" Exclaimed Orla, who'd been in a world of her own the first time Clare told them this - Erin glanced back at her, surprised to see that she'd finally looked up from the plastic gadget in her hand. "I wannae learn to drive."

Erin snorted, sliding her thumbs through the belt loops on her shorts as she walked. "Woe betide the poor soul who has to sit in a car with you. "

Orla glowered at her, slack-mouthed. "I do not accept that."

"Of course. It's your birthday this Sunday," James recollected. "Do you know what sort of car you're getting, then?"

"Not a clue. But I don't mind. I'm just buzzin' to be given one in the first place."

"At least we won't have to take the manky bus to school anymore," said Erin. She gave a short, smug laugh. "We'll look well cool rockin' up in our new ride."

"My new ride." Clare corrected.

"Speakin' of new rides," said Michelle, stopping dead in her tracks. "Who is that absolute stallion?"

A group of lads were gathered around the Café, laughing and swearing at an unnecessary volume. The local wankers. The biggest one was John-Paul O'Reilly. But there was one particular lad a few metres away from them that James didn't recognise. The lad that Michelle was currently gawking at.

He was topless and leaning against the seat of a motorbike. His brown hair was cut into that weird curtain-style that only Robbie Williams could get away with. But most sickeningly of all, he was pouring a bottle of water on himself.

"Fuck. Me." Michelle marvelled.

"I'm feeling really thirsty all of a sudden," said Erin, her voice taking on a gruff quality as she watched the water cascade down his abs.

James' gritted his teeth. "Then it's a good thing we're right next to a Cafe, come on—"

"You folks head inside, I'll be in in a moment," said Michelle, flipping her curls over her shoulder. "With this lad's number in my pocket."

"Oh, I don't think so somehow—" Erin muttered, following at Michelle's heels with a gait that made her look like she'd forgotten how to walk.

He shouldn't be bothered by it. This was eye-roll inducing behaviour coming from the girls, and he'd witnessed it on multiple occasions.

But this time, it infuriated him.

"Straight people," Clare remarked, scrunching her nose in distaste. "Well, I'm not standing out here to roast. Come on, we'll wait for those eejits inside."

Orla had already rushed ahead of them, chocolate-chip ice-cream on the brain. But James didn't move. He was taken up with burning an imaginary hole through the skull of this new lad.

"Are you comin', James?"

"Sorry?" Reluctantly, he tore his burning gaze away. "Oh, right. Yeah."

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"Bout ye?" Michelle greeted the lad confidently. Erin appeared at her side, earning herself a glare as she bumped clumsily into Michelle's shoulder. She couldn't help it. She tended to become slightly off-balance when she was nervous.

"Yeah, er," Erin began, her eyes shifting in a quiet panic when she realised she didn't have anything smooth to say. "It's nice weather we're having, don't ye think?"

"Nice weather?" said Michelle through a sharp, half-whisper. "Are you fuckin' seventy?"

A sheepish look drifted across Erin's face.

"Yeah, it's class weather," the new lad agreed, handing back Erin's stolen confidence on a silver platter. "I haven't had the pleasure. My name's Eirin."

"Really?" Erin beamed, placing a hand on her chest in pleasant surprise. Already jumping to the conclusion that they were made for each other. "My name's Erin, too."

He smiled. "A beautiful name for a beautiful lass."

"Awk, I could say the same about you," she blushed, before proceeding to stumble over her words. "Not that you're a lass. You're a lad...obviously—"

"Stop talkin' Erin," ordered Michelle, shoving her hand in her face. Erin shoved it down, disgruntled. Michelle smiled flirtatiously at Eirin. "My name's Michelle. It's French. It means beautiful."

Erin scowled. She's talking out of her arse.

He gave her a slightly uneasy smile, his eyes shifting to the finger she was trailing along his muscular arm. "That's nice."

"We haven't seen you around here before."

"Aye, I'm at Belfast Met, but I'm visiting my family for the summer."

"What is it you're studying?" Asked Erin, with keen interest.

"Engineering," he replied. "I'm into my second year now. What about you girls?"

"Oh, we're in Upper Sixth," Erin told him.

Eirin nodded. "And have you thought much about what you wannae do after you leave?"

"Absolutely," Erin straightened up, taking on that high-and-mighty expression of hers that never failed to make Michelle cringe. "I'll be going to University. I'm an avid writer, you see, and I'm hoping to go into journalism."

"That's grand," he smiled at her brightly. "What about you, Michelle?"

She shrugged. Michelle was still in the dark when it came to career prospects. And her Ma's constant nagging didn't help. Recently Deidre had been trying to talk her into a nursing career. As much as she respected her Ma's line of work, she couldn't be doing with wiping arses and pouring out bedpans for a living.

"That depends," she replied. "Are all the lads that go to Belfast Met as good-lookin' as you?"

"Well, that's somethin' you'd have to find out for yourself. There's an open day coming up in August. I'd be happy to show you girls around if you ever find yourself wanting a wee gander."

"That'd be–!" Erin cut herself off with a squeak, realising how over-eager she sounded. She promptly cleared her throat and neutralised her expression. "I mean, yeah. Sounds good to me."

"We'd love to," said Michelle in an exaggerated drawl that was deliberately meant to magnify Erin's awkwardness.

Eirin nodded. "Great. Well, it was grand chattin' to you both. But I should probably get this ice-cream back before it melts." He patted his bike's storage compartment.

As he swung his leg over the seat, an idea twinkled in his gorgeous blue eyes. "One other thing,"

" Yeah?" Said the girls, in unison.

" My cousin's forcin' me to help out with her eighteenth this Sunday. It's a cheesy wild-west theme, and I've been dreadin' it like the pits of hell. But sure, it'd be a lot more bearable if you came along."

"We'll be there," Michelle purred. Her mind's eye already conjuring up images of him in a cowboy hat...and nothing else.

"Aye, that'd be great craic," said Erin in a small voice. Her confidence had once again died down to embers.

" Grand." Eirin pulled his shirt back on and wrote down the time and address on Erin's arm. She blushed the whole time, but had enough composure to give Michelle a shit-eating grin. She stood with tightly folded arms, refusing to look at her.

"S'pose I'll see you on Sunday then, girls." Eirin pocketed his pen, winked, and then drove off down the road - the engine roaring.

Michelle whipped around to Erin, elated. "Holy fuck, did you see that sexy wink he gave me!"

"Catch yourself on," Erin scoffed. "He was winkin' at me!"

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James didn't think he could despise anyone more than John-Paul O'Reilly, but this tosser had knocked him hard off the podium. James watched the three of them through the window, trying to decipher what he was saying to the girls.

"Are you plannin' on eating that ice-cream or wearing it?" Asked Clare, quirking an eyebrow as she watched the minty dessert drip steadily along the cone and down his fingers.

James' head snapped away from the window. "Fuck!" He swore, licking up the drizzles of ice cream that were racing along the length of his arm. When he returned his intent gaze back to the window, the tosser had mounted his poxy bike and was revving up his engine. James willed the good lord to send the guy arse over tit, but had no such luck.

The girls entered the Café and went to the counter, bickering with each other in between their orders - much to the visible ire of the server.

"Why can't you just let me have this one, for once?" Erin complained as they joined them at the table. Michelle, with her salted caramel milkshake, and Erin a bowl of lemon sorbet.

"Because, Erin, he's more on my level than he is yours." Michelle unwrapped her straw and blew its paper-covering directly into James' eye.

" Ah!" he hissed, blinking rapidly.

"What are ye on about?" Erin argued.

"He's a bad-boy," she explained. "He needs a lass who knows how to have a good time."

"I know how to have a good time! And just because he's got a motorbike, does not make him a 'bad-boy'. Sure, even my Da used to have a motorbike, and he's the furthest thing from a bad boy."

"Can we talk about literally anything else?' James complained flatly.

"We're not gonnae replace you if that's what you're worried about," Erin assured him.

"We might." Michelle glanced at her cousin, earning herself a scowl before she went back to her quarrelling with Erin. "You have the same name, as well. It'd just get confusing."

"That's a shit argument!"

James suppressed a snicker that made him choke on his ice-cream. "He's got a girl's name?"

They both glared at him as he laughed, watching the ice cream drip down his chin with disgust. He reached for a napkin, still laughing as he wiped it away.

"It's a unisex name, James," explained Erin. 'It comes from the Gaelige word for Ireland."

"Ignore the anglo-dickhead," Michelle told her. "He doesn't even know how to eat an ice-cream."

James dissolved into a strop, shrinking into himself.

" If I may interject," said Clare, swallowing down a spoonful of her banana-split. She waved the utensil at the girls. "You do realise that the lad has the ability to make decisions for himself?"

Michelle and Erin stopped talking and exchanged glances. Clearly, they hadn't learned anything from the Friends Across the Barricades disaster.

Clare rolled her eyes.

"She's got a point," Erin's lips curved smugly. "We'll just have to wait and see who Eirin chooses."

"Pfft, that's a no brainer."

"Aye, you just keep tellin' yourself that, Michelle. But that wink he gave me suggests differently."

"Could've been a friendly wink," Orla piped up, using her finger to scoop up the remaining ice-cream at the bottom of her bowl.

" There's no such thing as a friendly wink!" Erin snapped.

"And the wink was aimed at me!" Michelle insisted.

"Maybe the sun was in his eyes," James suggested, and the glare he received from his cousin was a punch within a look.

"Look, regardless of who the wink was aimed at," Erin sighed. "He wouldn't have invited me to his cousin's eighteenth if he wasn't interested in me."

"He invited me too, Erin."

"And yet I'm the one with the deets on my wrist!" Erin waved her arm in Michelle's face. "Digits included!"

Michelle swatted her away, irritably.

Meanwhile, the knot in James' stomach tightened. It was a bit red-flaggish that this 'Eirin' just so happened to be carrying a pen. Which raised the question — did he give his number to every girl he clapped eyes on?

"He invited you to a party?" James frowned.

"Do keep up, James," said Michelle.

"This Sunday," Erin confirmed. "You're all invited."

" As our plus ones," Michelle added.

"I think the whole point of bringin' a 'plus one' is that you bring one person," Clare told her. "Anyway, you seem to be forgetting that it's my birthday on Sunday! We're meant to be having a movie night!"

"Why would you want to stay in your boring fucking house, when you can go to a party and get pished?" Michelle questioned. "We'll pretend it's your party, seen as you weren't allowed to have one."

"Oh, well that's very generous of ye!" She retorted.

"Come on. It'll be a lot more fun than sittin' on our arses watching The Shark Tank Redemption."

Clare gritted her teeth. "Shaw-shank Redemption."

"It's near Jenny's," Michelle crooned, in a persuasive, sing-song tone. "That's how you know it'll be great craic!"

"Please, Clare? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!" Erin begged.

"Fine! Whatever," Clare relented, sick of listening to their mithering. "But this time, nobody better do anythin' to make us look like a bunch of balloons. And yes, I'm talking about you, Erin," She addressed her, alluding to the painfully awkward misunderstanding at Jenny's Ukrainian welcome party.

"Come off it! That was two years ago!" Erin scoffed, with a burst of nervous laughter. James wasn't fast enough to catch the diverted glance in his direction.

"Aye, and we haven't been invited to a party since." Michelle reminded her, dryly.

"But what I wannae know is," Orla piped up, straightening in her seat with a bored sigh. She couldn't understand why they were leaving out the most important details. "Will there be a chocolate fountain?"

Michelle rolled her eyes. "Fuck if I know. But everyone's supposed to dress up like cowboys. Or cow-girls, cow-people anyway. I'm sure you'll buzz off that."

Michelle wasn't wrong. Orla's lips stretched into a wondrous grin, accentuated by the chocolate ice-cream slathered around her mouth.

James sulked as he bit into his now empty ice-cream cone.

The one day that he didn't have to spend slaving away in a chippy, he instead had to spend listening to Erin and Michelle harp on and on about this Eirin guy. He was almost relieved when they all went home, and he could seethe over the existence of this prat away from suspicious eyes.

He would much rather stay in and melt his head watching Heartbeat with his aunt than go to this party. But he wasn't about to let the girls go on their own knowing bugger all about the guy.

There might not even be a party. He could be luring them into some sort of trap for all they knew – he looked dodgy enough to fit the profile. The way he'd been eyeing up Erin had been nothing short of predatory, and James had to make sure he didn't try anything.

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Special Mentions

pearlydewdrop: Thank you for your lovely review. It's great to know that I've laid down the foundations correctly! Big thank you for your support over on Ao3, aswell. :)

ShuniceMarie: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

AnniexLove: I know, right? Kathy is so aggravating! I wanted to explore her relationship with James a bit deeper, along with James' relationship with his step-dad. I sensed that James and Paul's dynamic was wholesome after he mentioned that they would watch Doctor Who together. I could be wrong, but I don't remember hearing James reminisce about anything involving Kathy.

I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading!

Guest: This is to the lovely guest who said that my writing is realistic. Thank you! I've been working hard on getting the authenticity right, so that means a lot to me!

Let me know what you thought of this chapter, my lovelies!