“But I—what does that mean, then? Are you breaking up with me?” There was a throbbing dullness swarming over my mind now, one that I knew would soon give way to sharp pain. This was the merciful calm before the storm, I realized. A peculiar sense of numbness amidst the confusion.

Julia shrugged with minimal energy, shoulders flopping down lifelessly as she picked up her jacket from the floor. “Let’s be realistic here. I like you, I do—”

“I like you too.”

“But we don’t like each other enough to make it work, do we? It’s been fun, Alex. It has. And I think you’re great, I really do. I wish we could figure it out but…It’s better if we end it now, isn’t it? Before we end up getting hurt? I mean—you lied to me. And I don’t—I’m not even mad at you because I think I understand why you did it. I know you like me, but you’re—you’re in love with her. Even if you don’t realize it. So maybe we should just…call it a day, hmm?”

“I…I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. For what it’s worth—I’m not sure she deserves you. Not if she doesn’t realize how much she means to you. But—I hope it works out for you, Alex. Genuinely. With her, without her—you’re a much better person than you think you are.”

I nodded slowly. Julia opened the bedroom door and I led her down the stairs, both of us pausing at the front porch. She pulled me in for a hug, dropping a delicate kiss on my cheek before stepping back. Neither of us said anything as she walked away and just as she turned to make her way out of our gate and onto the road, she paused to throw me a wave. I waved back and watched her leave, waiting until she was out of sight before finally shutting the door.

Chapter 17

June 1996

I did not want to go to Orla’s birthday party.

It was more than the knowledge that Orla’s seventeenth birthday two years earlier had changed the course of my life entirely, for better or for worse, and it was more than my inescapable dislike for those that she invited. The weeks leading up to the Leaving Cert passed by in a daze, allowing me to ignore my break up with Julia, but as it reached its end and my time in school came to a close, I was faced with the startling realization that the rest of my life was due to begin. It was easy to decide what would come next—a couple of phone calls, a few drawn-out conversations, and I was moving to London. Even before things fell apart with Julia, I knew that planning the move would come soon and in many ways, our breakup came at just the perfect time. There was nothing left to keep me in Ireland, now, no excuses not to delve into my dreams. If we stayed together, I knew that I simply would have postponed moving, continued to work in Blockbusters, waiting for my life to start. It wasn’t the case that I was running away, as Orla suggested—from Julia, from Connie, from discrimination, from the rumors that followed me everywhere I went. I was running toward the beginning of my life.