Pre-war: A War Series Novella Read online

  Pre-war

  A War Series Novella

  Nicole Lynne

  Stevie J. Cole

  LP Lovell

  Contents

  Untitled

  Untitled

  Dedication

  Prologue

  1. Connor

  2. Poppy

  3. Brandon

  4. Poppy

  5. Brandon

  6. Connor

  7. Poppy

  8. Brandon

  9. Poppy

  10. Connor

  11. Poppy

  12. Brandon

  13. Connor

  14. Brandon

  15. Connor

  16. Poppy

  17. Brandon

  18. Poppy

  19. Brandon

  20. Poppy

  21. Connor

  22. Poppy

  23. Connor

  24. Poppy

  25. Brandon

  26. Poppy

  27. Brandon

  28. Poppy

  29. Connor

  30. Poppy

  Untitled

  Chapter 31

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to, or downloaded from file sharing sites or distributed in any other way via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of Stevie J. Cole and LP Lovell.

  PRE-WAR

  The War Series 0.5

  A Novella of Childhood

  Stevie J Cole and LP Lovell writing as Nicole Lynne

  Dedication

  Dedicated to Jen. We love you. Thank you for all you do!

  Prologue

  10 years old

  I sit down underneath a tree and pull a piece of bubblegum from my pocket, checking to make sure the teachers don’t see me when I shove it inside my mouth. I watch the other kids play and a group of girls walk by and giggle. I think they’re laughing at me. No one wants to play with me, maybe, because they think I talk funny. All everyone’s done is stare at me when I talk. I guess most of them have never met an American before…

  It doesn’t natter though. I hate it here in Ireland.

  I didn't want to move here. I didn't want to leave my friends, but Daddy said he needed help taking care of me. I wish my mommy was still here to take care of me. I pick a dandelion and twirl it between my fingers. Momma loved it when I picked these for here. She was pretty. I miss how she used to always sing songs in the morning when she made me biscuits and gravy and scrambled eggs. Sighing, I look up at the sky, wondering what it's like in heaven. I bet she has wings now, sitting up there with Jesus. I fight back the tears because if the other kids see me crying, they'll just laugh at me even more.

  A rock skips in front of me, rolling to a stop by my sneaker. I sniff back my tears and glance up. The blond boy from class—the one the other kids were calling “fatso” this morning—is standing in front of me with his hands shoved deep inside his pockets, and he's dragging the toe of his shoe across the ground. "Wanna play pogs?" he asks.

  I look back down at my dandelion. "What are pogs?"

  "It's a game."

  I shrug and blow a bubble with my gum.

  "I'm Connor."

  "I'm Poppy." I smile because he's nice.

  Another boy runs up beside Connor. His brown hair is messy. I know the two of them are friends, and this one has already gotten in trouble this morning for spitting on the floor. "You're not allowed gum in school." He scowls at me.

  Connor punches him in the arm. "Leave her alone, Bran."

  I stand up, take my gum out of my mouth, and hold my hand out to the Connor. "You can have my gum..." He stares at it and I shrug. "But you have to put it behind your ear for later." I tuck it behind his ear.

  The other boy scrunches his face up and pretends to throw up. Connor shoves him. "Shut up, Bran."

  "Bran?" I say. "Like Bran Flakes?"

  He rolls his eyes. "No, Brandon." He huffs before he turns and walks back toward the school. "Come on Connor!" he yells.

  "You can sit next to me in assembly if you like?" Connor says, smiling at me. His chubby cheeks turn bright red before he looks at the ground, scuffing his shoe back and forth over the dirt.

  "Okay. Thanks."

  I think he might be my friend.

  1

  Connor

  10 years old

  Brandon sits next to me in the classroom like he always does, but now Poppy’s sitting on my other side. Her hair is shiny, and she smells like strawberries.

  Brandon elbows me in the ribs and I look at him. "Why are you talking to her?" he whispers in my ear.

  "Why not?"

  "Because she's a girl." Mrs. Brown shushes us, and Brandon stops talking.

  "Today, we have a new student. Her name is Poppy Turner. Everyone say hello to Poppy."

  "Hello, Poppy," everyone says at once, and Poppy’s cheeks turn pink. "Who would like to volunteer to be Poppy's friend while she gets settled in?" Mrs. Brown asks.

  I stick my hand up at the same time as Nelly Derham, so I wave mine around really fast. Mrs. Brown smiles at me. "Connor, thank you. That's very kind of you." I grin at Nelly and she glares at me.

  We end up having to read out loud. When Poppy reads, everyone looks at her because of her funny voice. Brandon can read, but he always pretends like he can't, so the teacher doesn't make him. He hates school. We finish reading and Brandon slams his head down on the table.

  Mrs. Brown sighs and walks out from behind her desk. "We're going to set our tadpoles free today," Mrs. Brown says. "So let's all go outside."

  The class gets up. We follow her outside to the field and down to the little pond. She puts the tiny glass bowl down next to the edge of the water. "Now they have their legs, they're nearly frogs..."

  Someone starts screaming. I turn around and watch Brandon chase Lola Stevens with a frog. He's laughing as he runs after her.

  "Brandon O'Kieffe!" Mrs. Brown shouts. "You put that poor frog down, right now. And apologise to Lola."

  Brandon sighs and puts the frog back in the pond. "So-rry," he huffs, sitting on the grass. Brandon is always in trouble, and I'm never in trouble. My Ma says he's a hellion, but he's my best friend. Sometimes she says he's a good lad really and it's not his fault he's a pikey.

  "I don't like frogs," Poppy says. "They're slimy and gross. Daddy says if boys are mean to me, I should kick them between their legs."

  I wince because I once fell off my bike and the bar went right between my legs. I cried for hours. "That's mean," I say.

  She shrugs. "If Brandon chases me with a frog, I'm gonna kick him right between the legs."

  I laugh. I'd like to see that.

  2

  Poppy

  10 years old

  Today hasn’t been such a bad first day, I guess. I made friends with Connor and Brandon at least.

  Brandon leans in front of Connor and narrows his eyes. "Why do you talk so funny?" Brandon whispers.

  "Shut it, Bran." Connor punches him in the arm and Brandon scowls at him before he glances back at me.

  I lean over the desk. "I'm American," I sa
y, glaring right back at him.

  "But this is Ireland," he says, holding out his hands as though just being here would make me talk in sing-songs.

  "Yep." I narrow my eyes on him. "And, I'm still from America."

  "Whatever." He looks down at his notebook, scribbling on it so hard that his pencil tears the paper. His hair is sticking up in every direction and there's a dirty smudge down the front of his white polo shirt. He's cute and angry and I don’t know why, but it makes me laugh.

  Connor taps me on the shoulder. When I look at him, he's holding out a Milkybar. I shake my head, and Brandon reaches across me to snatch it.

  The bell rings and we put our stuff away before walking outside.

  “You coming to my place?” Brandon asks Connor.

  “Yeah.” Connor glances at me. "You want to come to the gypo camp with us?" Brandon tosses his head back and groans.

  "Gypo Camp? I ask.

  “Yeah, it’s where Brandon lives. They have a pony.”

  “Okay. I have to ask my daddy," I say.

  Connor shrugs. "Okay."

  We walk out of the schoolyard together and Brandon follows behind us. “I’m gonna eat your Milkbar, Con.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Me and Connor stay on the sidewalk, but Brandon keeps running off into people’s yards to chase their cats. One woman comes out on her front porch and yells at him. He comes skipping back over to us, smiling.

  It's a short walk to my house from the school, but Brandon's already complaining that his feet are tired. The house is quiet when we walk in.

  "Daddy?" I motion the boys inside and close the door.

  "In the office, sweetheart."

  Connor and Brandon follow me down the hallway to my daddy's office. He glances up from the work spread over his desk and smiles before standing and picking me up, swinging me in his arms. "Hey, baby."

  "Daddy! Stop!" I giggle.

  He puts me down. "Who's this?"

  Connor stands in the doorway fidgeting and looking at the floor. Brandon's cramming the last bit of the Milkybar inside his mouth.

  "This is Connor," I say.

  Daddy's gaze swings over to Brandon. "And..."

  "Brandon O'Keiffe." He holds out his chocolate and dirt covered hand to my dad, smiling.

  "Good to see you've made some friends, Poppy."

  "I'm not her friend. I'm his friend." Brandon thumbs at Connor. "And he likes her, so... I don't like girls."

  Connor punches his arm and Daddy laughs. "Well, that's good to know, Brandon."

  He shrugs. "I gotta go. My ma will be fuming if I'm late again."

  "You coming, Poppy?"

  I look at my dad. "Can I go, please?"

  "Go where?"

  "The gypo camp," Connor says.

  Daddy rubs his hand over his chin. "I don't know, Poppy."

  "Please, Daddy. I want to play with my new friends."

  "They have a pony," Connor says.

  "And a sheep," Brandon adds.

  "And Sean, the posh-pikey dog." Connor grins. "It's just at the end of the block."

  I look up at Daddy, trying to make my eyes big and my bottom lip stick out.

  Daddy's face softens. "Okay, be back before supper."

  I throw my arms around his neck and squeeze. "Love you." And we run out of the house and down the sidewalk.

  3

  Brandon

  10 years old

  I normally race Connor home because he's fat and I always win. But today, he's walking with Poppy, smiling at her. Gross.

  Sean starts barking as soon as we walk up to the caravan. "Shut up, Sean!" I groan. He ignores me and I huff as I open the door.

  "Brandon!" Ma shouts.

  "Yeah, I'm here,” I say. I notice the empty chair in the corner. “Where's Dad?"

  "At the pub." That's good. I hate it when Dad's here. He's grumpy. "You and Connor want a snack?" Ma asks as she rounds the corner, wiping her hands on a towel. She looks at Poppy and smiles. "Who's this?"

  "Poppy.” I dump my school bag on the sofa and take off my polo shirt. “Connor likes her. She talks funny."

  "Boy, that was clean this morning! What do you do? Roll around in the mulch?”

  I throw my shirt on the floor.

  “Christ alive. It doesn't live there. Put it in the washing basket!" Ma swats me around the back of the head.

  "Ma!"

  Ignoring me, she smiles at Poppy. "Don't mind him. Boy thinks he was raised in a barn."

  "I, uh..." Poppy stands in the doorway with her hands clasped together. "I um, like your, uh...your..." She glances around the caravan.

  "Caravan. It's a caravan," I sigh.

  She smiles. "I like the scatter-cushions."

  "Why, thank you. Picked 'em myself."

  Ugh, my ma and those stupid cushions. I go to my room and put my Transformers t-shirt on with my tracksuit bottoms. When I go back to the living room, Poppy and Connor are both eating muffins. Ma shoves one in my hand and kicks us out the door.

  "What do you want to do?" I ask Poppy.

  She shrugs. "I like ponies."

  "Okay, well Shergar lives around the back." There are eight caravans here. At the back of the site is where the horses and some of the dogs are. We pass old man McGinty's run down caravan. It’s lopsided where it’s fallen off three of its wheels. He's passed out in a deck chair out front, an empty bottle of whiskey beside him. Just as we go to round his trailer, Arnold the sheep comes running around the corner.

  "Ah, feck off, Arnold!" I say, shooing him.

  McGinty grunts and wakes up just as that stupid sheep tries to nab my muffin. I twist away from Arnold, but he chases me around in circles until I peel the paper off the muffin and feed it to him.

  "Why do you have a sheep?" Poppy asks.

  "Old Man McGinty won him in a card game,” I say.

  "But why…” her face scrunches, “would you want a sheep?"

  Old Man grumbles and spits on the ground. "It ain't about the prize. It's just about the winnin'." He winks at Poppy.

  "Arnold won prizes for being a sheep," Connor adds.

  "Yeah,” Old Man stretches, “used to be a stud, but then we had to cut his gnads on account of him trying to shag the dogs, horses, children..."

  "What are gnads?" Poppy whispers to Connor. His face goes all red and he starts choking on his muffin.

  I roll my eyes. "Come on."

  Arnold follows us out back. I kind of feel sorry for him sometimes. I think he's lonely without his sheep friends. Maybe that's why he tries to cop onto the dogs.

  Shergar’s eating the little bit of grass that’s left. He lifts his head for a moment, snorts, then goes back to feeding. Poppy walks up and pets him, stroking her fingers through his mane.

  "Wanna ride him?" I ask.

  Her eyes go wide. "What if I fall off?"

  "Well...don't."

  "How do I get on?"

  "Ya jump." Sighing, I go to Shergar's side. "Come here.” She looks at me for a second before she steps beside me. Girls sure do take a long time to do stuff. “Grab his mane and lift your leg up." She does as I say. "Okay, on three. One, two…three.” I grab her leg and push her up. She sprawls onto his back, squealing as she nearly topples off the other side.

  "Now what?"

  I throw my head back and groan. "How do you not know how to ride a horse?"

  "I don't think they have horses in America," Connor says.

  "We do, too." Poppy glares at him. I just roll my eyes at them both.

  "Well, it's kind of like swimming, you just jump in and figure it out."

  "What? No you don't. You drown," she shouts. I grin and unfasten the collar from around Shergar's neck. "What are you doing?"

  "Bran,” Connor starts, “don't..."

  I smack Shergar on the bum and he trots off. Well, the way she screams, you'd think he was at a flat-out gallop. She bounces around on his back and I laugh so hard my stomach hurts. She only makes it a little way before
she topples off the side. Poppy quickly stands up and dusts herself off. Her eyes set on me, narrowing as she stomps toward me. "What's so funny? You didn't have to hit the pony." She stops in front of me and crosses her arms. "You're a meany-butt." She glares at me like that should hurt my feelings or something.

  "A meany-butt?" I fold my arms over my chest. "That isn't a bad word, Poppy."

  She arches a brow and huffs. "Butthole."

  Ma always calls dad a cunt, but the last time I said it, she washed my mouth out with soap and slapped my arse with a slipper. It was horrible. I cried. So, instead, I just say: "Bitch."

  Instantly, her eyes turn red and fill with big tears, her lip quivering and nostrils flaring. Connor rushes over to her and puts his arm around her. "Brandon! You arse."

  Tears streak down her face. Aw, shit. I’m going to get in trouble for this.

  "I'm sorry," I say. "It's not a bad word. Ma says it's a girl dog!"

  She sucks back a few tears and wipes her face with her sleeve, huffing as she takes a step toward me. Then...she kicks me in the shin and stomps off, her brown ponytail swinging.

  "Ow!"

  Connor goes after her, but stops after a few steps. "Ah, I think I stepped in dog poo," he groans.

  I roll my eyes and go over to Shergar, jump on his back, and kick his sides. He trots off towards Poppy.

  "Go away, Brandon," she says.

  "Aw, come on. I'll take you for a ride."

  She stops and squints up at me. "I don't want to ride with you." She crosses her arms over her chest.

  "Fine." I shrug. "You can stay here with Connor and his dog poo shoe."

  She glances back at Connor, then up at me. "Don't be mean to me."

  "I won't."

  "Pinky swear?" She holds out her little finger.

  I sigh. "Fine." Holding on to his mane, I lean down from Shergar and link my little finger with hers. "Now, do you want to ride or not?"