Jesus.
But then my imagination went all Judas on me by envisioning Paul the prick all over her on the dancefloor, and I physically balked.
Thoroughly disgusted now, I pushed all thoughts of Molloy to the back of my mind and concentrated on getting the boys home.
SPECIAL_IMAGE-images/svgimg0003.svg-REPLACE_ME
When I brought my brothers home after trick or treating, Shannon greeted us at the front door, waiting patiently for her cut of the loot – an agreement she and the boys had shaken on when she agreed to make their costumes.
Leaving them to their arguing, I hurried upstairs to take a shower and change my clothes.
When I walked into the kitchen twenty minutes later, Mam was at her usual perch at the table.
“You smell nice,” she said, nursing a cup of tea. “Are you going out?”
“There’s a disco over at the Pav, tonight. I’m meeting Podge and a few of the lads from school there,” I replied, tone civilized, something that was always easier to do when the old man was out of the house.
A massive blowup last week had sent my father temporarily packing.
“Any sign of him?” I asked, reaching into the fridge for a can of coke. “Did he phone?”
Because let’s face it, we all knew he would.
Once he grew bored of whatever flavor of the week that he’d decided was better than the mother of his children, he’d come crawling back.
He always did.
“No.” Shaking her head, she released a small sigh. “I told you last week, he’s gone—“
“For good this time,” I finished for her, reeling off the same line I’d heard at least half a dozen times a year since I was old enough to remember. “Will you be okay on your own with the kids?” I eyed her swollen belly and a swell of concern gnawed at my gut. “I can stay home if you need me to.”
“No, you should go,” she said, pulling herself to her feet. “I’ll be fine here.”
“Mam, if I go out, I’ll be late.” In other words, I won’t be back if you change your mind and decide you need me. “Are ya sure you’ll be alright?” I frowned, uncertain. “What about the, uh, the baby?”
“I’m not due for another three weeks,” she replied. “And I’ve Shannon here to keep me company.” Smiling, which was a rare sight these days, she added, ”we might get a Chinese and watch a film once the boys go to bed.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t count on them going to sleep anytime soon,” I told her, thinking about the bags of sweets they’d collected. “Here…“ pausing for a moment, I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out a twenty euro note. “Get your takeaway with that.”
“No, no, no,” Mam argued, shaking her head. “That’s yours. I have enough money.”
No, she didn’t.
I knew this because I’d watched her put her last tenner in the electric meter earlier.
“It’s grand. I got paid yesterday,” I told her, thrusting the money into her hand. “I still have money for myself.”
She stared at the money in her hand for a long moment before shakily stuffing it into her dressing gown pocket. “Thank you, Joey.”
“It’s grand. Just make sure Shannon eats something, will ya,” I said, grabbing my keys and moving for the front door. “She’s skin and bones these days.” You both are.
“I will, I promise,” Mam replied, following me to the front door, and then lingering awkwardly in the doorway when I stepped outside. “Have a good night.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “You too, Mam.”
“Joey,” she called out when I was standing at the garden wall. Wrapping her dressing gown tightly around herself, Mam hurried towards me.
Frozen to spot, I didn’t move a muscle when she reached up and pressed her small hand to my cheek.
Blue eyes watering with unshed tears, she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Be safe.”
“Yeah,” I replied gruffly, clearing my throat, as guilt filled me for the sins that we both knew I would commit tonight. “I will, Mam.”
SLUT DROPS AND ALCOPOPS
OCTOBER 31ST 2001
AOIFE
The Pavilion was packed to the rafters on Halloween night, with people grinding and sweating all over each other in their hunt for a good time, and I was no exception to the rule.
Throwing shapes to Flip & Fill’s Shake Ya Shimmy in my fancy new shoes – courtesy of daddy dearest – with my best friend by my side, I let loose and threw myself into the moment.
With our costumes coordinating, Casey was the slutty devil to my equally slutty angel. With her horns and my halo, we made quite the pair on the dancefloor, enjoying the attention we were receiving from the lads in our year almost as much as the music.
“Cop on, Aoife,” an angry voice growled in my ear, as a big body pressed up against me from behind, and a pair of big hands clamped down on my hips. “Everyone is looking at you.”
“So?”
“That’s the point,” Casey laughed.
“So, I don’t like it,” Paul snapped. “You’re with me, which means you’re mine to look at, not every fella in this place. Enough of the fucking peep show.”
“One; you don’t own me,” I slurred, grinding my body against his. “Two; I’m only dancing.”
“Yeah, like a slut.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious,” he shouted. “Do you want everyone to think that I’m going out with a slut?”
“Oh my god.” I shook my head angrily and swung around to glare up at him. “You did not just say that to me.”
“My whole fucking team is looking at ya,” he argued, cheeks reddening. “It’s embarrassing for me having my girlfriend shaking her ass like that.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Go fuck yourself, Paul.”
“No, babe, wait—“
Shrugging out of his hold, I grabbed Casey’s hand and sexy danced towards her, ignoring the killjoy behind me.
“What’s his problem?” Casey shouted over the music, gesturing to where Paul was scowling behind me.
“Apparently, I’m embarrassing him.”
Narrowing her eyes, she sucked on her middle finger before using it to flip him off. “Asshole.”
DJ Alligator Project’s The Whistle Song blasted all around us then, drawing every teenager within a ten-mile radius onto the dancefloor.
“Screw him,” Casey ordered, dragging me deeper into the crowd. “Let’s just have a girls night.”
“Excellent plan.”
Drunk off the good time – and the vodka flushing through our veins – we ground against each other, shaking our asses like we were contesting for the role of the next member of Destiny’s Child.
Spying one of the lads from our class, who was dressed as the funniest Marilyn Monroe I’d ever seen in my life, throwing shapes in the middle of the dancefloor, we quickly closed in on him.
“Angel-legs! Devil-tits!” Alec cheered, throwing his arms over our shoulders when we reached him.
Off his head on drink, drugs, and mischief, he bumped and grinded along to the unofficial blow-job song, not giving two shits how ridiculous he looked in his cheap, knock-off relic of her Seven Year Itch white dress and fake blonde wig, with his hairy legs on full display.
“I can’t cope with him,” Casey half-laughed, half-slurred, gesturing to the big eejit grinding his ass against us. “I can’t tell if I want to slap him or kiss him.”
“Both,” I choked out through fits of laugher, as Al ripped the top half of his dress off in dramatic fashion, and pinched his own nipples, eyes rolling in equally dramatic fashion.
“Cover those tits up, Marilyn,” Casey laughed, reaching up to cover our classmate’s nipples with her small hands.