“I’ll have a full fried breakfast with everything, please, sunshine,” beamed O’Connell.
“Ah, I think I’m gonna puke,” moaned the muffled voice from the table. I smiled as I walked off to put in their order, and when I returned with their food and coffee, Kieran was still looking green.
“Seriously, mate,” he complained to O’Connell.
“I’m about two minutes from puking my guts up, and you’re gonna eat that shite in front of me?”
“First off, you followed me here. You could’ve kept your sorry arse in bed. Second, what the fuck did you think I was gonna be eating when I told you we were coming to Daisy’s, and third, it’s not shite. Daisy’s makes the best breakfast in the world. It’s not my fault you can’t handle your drink.”
“Fuck off.” Kieran grinned. “You practically dragged me here, and if you’d come back last night instead of leaving me hanging, then you’d be feeling like shite, too,” he complained.
“You didn’t go back to the party?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“I’m turning over a new leaf, sunshine. No more getting wasted, and no more fucking random strangers.”
My jaw dropped as Kieran raised his head with a, “What. The. Fuck.”
“I’m serious, Kier. It makes a nice change to be eating breakfast and training without a raging hangover. I could get used to it.”
Kieran looked up at me with a mixture of wonder and disbelief.
“Well, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out the reason for this one-eighty, but how far are we talking here? No parties and t-total?”
“Parties are okay, just not so many of ‘em, and I’m not a fucking monk, so a drink now and then is alright. I just don’t want to get wasted anymore. Anyway, what are you so pissed for? It’s me who’ll be doing it.”
“What’s the point in partying, if you’re not gonna do it with me?”
O’Connell just grinned at him as he carried on attacking his breakfast with gusto. Kieran laid his head back down on the table, honestly looking like he was about to be sick at any minute.
“Drink your coffee, Kieran,” I urged. “It will make you feel better.”
I didn’t know if I was smiling because he was endearing or because of O’Connell’s resolution, but I was feeling better than I had since before the party.
“Promise?” Kieran asked in his little boy voice.
O’Connell stopped stock still with his knife and fork suspended in mid-air and muttered a quiet, “Fuck,” as he stared behind me. The slut from last night was strolling bold as brass down the aisle toward my section, like some kind of catwalk model strutting down a runway, wearing exactly the same outfit that she’d had on last night. As she brushed past me, I was the invisible I’d always wanted to be. All the sick feelings from last night came rushing back as sadness and inadequacy pressed down on me. She slid into the booth next to O’Connell and ran her manicured hand up and down the inside of his thigh.
“Hey, baby,” she purred. “I was hoping I’d run into you.”
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
It was Kieran, spluttering with rage, who challenged her. O’Connell looked as sick as a pig and was staring at me like he was waiting for my reaction. The slut completely ignored Kieran as she spoke, still stroking his thigh.
“So... you left last night, and I realised that I’d completely forgotten to give you my phone number and email.”
As she artfully pulled a slip of paper from shorts that looked vacuum-sealed to her arse, O’Connell seemed to snap out of his trance.
“I told you last night I wasn’t interested.”
She smiled sexily at him, completely unfazed.
“After the way we connected, there’s no way that you aren’t coming back to finish what we started.”
“I’m not gonna say this again, so let me make myself perfectly clear. I don’t care if you can suck the brass off a doorknob. I’m not interested. If you want more than I was offering, there are plenty of boys out there who’d be happy to help.”
Although O’Connell was brushing her off, I still empathised with how sick Kieran was feeling. The slut’s expression morphed into one of rage, making her attractive face instantly ugly, and I could sense from the tension that she was spoiling for a fight. Finally noticing me, she snapped.
“What the fuck are you looking at? The service around here is shit, and I have a good mind to complain to your manager that you were eavesdropping on my conversation. Now get your shit together and pour me some coffee.”
O’Connell’s jaw was grinding in temper, and I could tell from Kieran’s body language that he wasn’t fairing much better. O’Connell placed his huge hand gently over mine as I poured the coffee shakily.
“Do you think you could bring us some more toast, please, sunshine,” he asked gently.
I nodded grimly in response, feeling like crap after the way she’d spoken to me. As soon as I was halfway to the kitchen, I heard O’Connell’s voice low and menacing.
“Listen, bitch. You don’t even get to fucking talk to her. She’s worth a thousand of bitches like you, and if you get up in her face like that again, you’ll wish we’d never fucking met. Now get fuck off out of my booth so I can finish my breakfast.”
“Fine,” she spluttered, “but you won’t settle for some frumpy little waitress for long. You need someone like me, O’Connell. You’ll be back, and you’d just better hope I’m still waiting.”
I couldn’t hear O’Connell’s response as I got to the kitchen and went through the motions of making another round of toast, but his defence touched me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had anybody in my corner like that, and in the space of one conversation, I’d gone from feeling terrible to being on top of the world. O’Connell had become my emotional rollercoaster, and I wasn’t ready to get off the ride. I walked back to their table with the toast, apprehensive of the fallout, but whatever the boys said had worked. She was gone. I placed the toast down on the table as Kieran gave me a tight smile.
“I’m sorry about that,” O’Connell apologised.
“No problem. She seemed nice,” I replied.