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“OK, now I kind of want him to bring some rando. Who wants to leave high school normal?” Nat asked.

The plan had seemed so sensible back in March when they’d agreed on it. Limos weren’t cheap and Dustin had become a part of their group enough that having him and his date tag along with their trio just made good sense.

He’d tried floating the idea of not even going to any of the events after cap-and-gown, but the look Nat gave him had shut that down real quick.

“So, are you going to at least try and have a good time without your boyfriend?” Nat asked, as if she’d read his mind.

“I knew how to have fun before I met Bren. I’m sure I can remember how.”

Yu tilted his head. “You were fun before Bren?”

“Cute.”

“You’re going to miss this when you’re in Ireland, dude,” Nat added.

“Oh, yeah, ’cause Ireland’s got a real slag shortage these days. Historically a serious people, aren’t they?”

He tried to share in their smiles as they rose from the table, heading towards the gym even though no one had made the call. Planes and bubbles, MSN and long-distance calls; there were plenty of ways for the three of them to stay connected in the coming years. But the thing no one seemed to be worrying about as much as him was how different things were going to be.

There wasn’t any sense in spiraling out about it, though. University was where they said goodbye to the shape of their friendship as they’d known it these last four years. All he could do was hope it was strong enough not to break as it tried to find whatever form it was meant to take next.

The gloom in his head lightened even though there wasn’t any music to drive it away. If the worst really did come to pass as far as these two were concerned, he knew Bren would be there to pick up the pieces.

51

The rain sloshed rivers against the Davies’ sitting room windows as Mickie passed around a bottle of god-awful vodka he’d bought from the off licence downtown. Since at least half the people at the tables were already eighteen, the thrill that often accompanied the burning in Bren’s throat was suspiciously absent.

“Who cares what the weather’s doin’, as long as you don’t gotta study in it!” Mickie said, raising his glass.

There was a rumble of ascent as he, Brick and Orlaith raised their glasses to the half-hearted toast. Bren had always laughed when the sixth years moaned about the weather going from blue skies to pissing rain the second the Certs were over, but now that he was on the receiving end, it was hard to appreciate the irony.

Between the booze, company, and sticky toffee pudding that Niamh had sent along with him, he was off to a good start at making up for all the lost time, though.

“No more Miss Murphy!” Mickie added since his first toast went mostly unanswered.

Brick raised his glass and, after a slight hesitation, his girlfriend brought hers up beside his.

“And no more Mr. Kyle,” Mary said.

They’d listened to the girls fume about the guy enough that there was a round of groans before the room filled with the sound of clinking glass.

Happy as he was for Brick, the Arlo-shaped void pressed against the edges of Bren’s heart as Brick’s arm shifted in a way that told him he and Mary were holding hands under the table. Seven years of waiting, all to take the plunge the last week of the Certs.

He was adamant that she and him were going to make it work even though he was going to Cork for rugby and she was off to Belfast to study microbiology. Why she was interested in Brick if she liked tiny things was beyond Bren—unless he was keeping a wee secret from the rest of them.

Orlaith must have been thinking along the same lines because, after a meaningful look at the not-so-subtle couple across the table, she rolled her eyes. It made him think Nat had taken over her body for a second. She was smiling, though. It was hard not to, seeing the big guy so smitten he was practically levitating.

Bren fished a piece of chicken from one of the spice bags he’d brought, thinking the nutritional balance would help before he went back for more pizza.

“So, Rory, Orlaith and Mary all aced it.” He popped the curry-soaked tender into his mouth and spoke around it. “Think anyone else is doin’ sixth year over with Micko here?”

Everybody laughed as Mickie grabbed a handful of grease-soaked chips and threw them across the table.

“I’m the only one here smart enough to be makin’ money right out of school. Enjoy being poor for four years.”

“Look who's all fancy now that his uncle gave him a job on his crew,” Bren said.

“In Leitrim,” Orlaith added, like she was trying not to laugh.