Asking for It by Louise O'Neill Read Free Book Online Page A

always so busy these days. Why I—’
    ‘Shhh,’ I say. ‘ The Late Late is on.’

Saturday
     
     
Ali:
What you wearing tonight?
Ali:
Oh my god, you look so hot in that. I love it.
Ali:
Can I come over earlier? My mom is driving me insane.
    It’s nearly 8 p.m. I’m lying on my bed, clicking through photos of Jack on Facebook. I take a swig of my drink, wincing as the sharp taste of vodka hits my throat, burning a hole in my empty stomach.
    ‘Is that all you’re going to eat?’ Bryan asked me earlier when I chopped up half a banana into a small bowl of natural yogurt. ‘Mam left dinner for us.’
    ‘Eating is cheating,’ I said, and he laughed.
    My parents left for Killarney before lunchtime, Mam phoning Sheila Heffernan to boast about what a generous son she has, Yes, a four-star hotel, can you believe it, Sheila? Not many boys his age would be so thoughtful. ‘And what are your plans for tonight?’ she asked me as Dad put their overnight case in the boot, her voice a little cooler, and I wonder if Dad or Bryan ever notice that, notice how different she sounds when she’s talking to me, or if it’s just my imagination. I tried to act casual. ‘Oh, nothing much. Probably going to go to Maggie’s, watch a DVD or something.’ (I’m eighteen, I’m an adult, what does it matter to you what I do?) ‘Well . . .’ She looked reluctant, but not even she could argue with watching a DVD on a Saturday night. ‘Be back by midnight. I expect you to phone me from the house phone as soon as you’re home.’
    That’s not going to happen, but I’ll just tell her tomorrow that it kept going to voicemail, that her reception must have been weak down in Killarney. ‘Will there be boys there?’ Jesus. ‘Yes, Mam. Eli will be there.’ ‘The African lad?’ Dad had interjected. ‘Dad, he’s not African.’ ‘Sure, of course he’s African.’ Dad laughed. ‘His father is the man up in CUH, isn’t he?’ I nod. ‘He’s as black as the ace of spades.’ ‘Yeah, but his mam is Irish,’ I said slowly. ‘And Eli’s lived in Ballinatoom all his life. And Conor and Fitzy will probably be there too,’ I lied, and Dad visibly relaxed. ‘I just don’t know if I feel comfortable—’ Mam began, but Dad interrupted her, saying that he trusted me to be responsible. Bryan and I watched as the car pulled out the drive. Freedom .
    I yank at the thin straps of my dress, pulling the material away from my clammy body. The heat is curling in through the open window, wrapping around my limbs. I can hear the sound of the kids on the estate shouting ‘Red rover, red rover . . .’ I sit on the windowsill and see the two Mannix boys playing with a little girl I don’t know. The girl and the older boy are on the swing set, ignoring the other boy whining that he wants a go, s’not fair , and it could almost be me and Conor when we were kids, Fitzy insisting every game that I suggested was ‘stupid’, until I burst into tears. ‘Don’t cry,’ Conor would plead with me, telling Fitzy to leave me alone. He promised that I could choose whatever game I wanted. ‘I hate it when you cry, Emmie,’ he said.
Maggie:
Hey hun, we’re nearly there. I hope you don’t mind but I said to Eli about tonight and he’s coming too. xx
Me:
K.
Maggie:
Are you annoyed?
Me:
No, of course not.
(Yes. Yes, I am. But not surprised.)
Maggie:
Yay, thanks babe. Oh, and don’t kill me but Fitzy is here too, he offered us a lift and I felt bad so asked him along. SORRY!!!!!! xxx See you in 2 mins.
    I grit my teeth. Now I’m going to have to text Conor as well.
Me:
Few of us hanging in my place tonight. Nothing major. You can come if you’re not up to anything else.
    He texts back with indecent haste.
Conor:
Hey Emmie! I’d love to come, thanks for asking me. See you soon. X
    I stare at the X for a few seconds. I wish he wouldn’t do that.
    ‘Bryan?’ I knock, pushing the door open when I hear him grunt. A musty smell of unwashed socks and