To Joey’s credit, and contrary to the rumors, he was explicitly tight-lipped. He might have been a fuck boy, but at least he didn’t run his mouth, which meant that however far they had gone that night was never going to be confirmed on his end.
In fact, he treated her no differently to how he always had.
He was the same slightly aloof, a little flirty, and a whole lot of pissed-off Joey.
And while our friendship had remained reasonably intact since Halloween, I couldn’t hide my hesitance – or my hurt.
Witnessing him share one kiss with another girl had both crippled and alerted me to the fact that I needed to stop.
Stop wishing.
Stop hoping.
Stop wondering.
Stop willing.
I needed to just stop when it came to this boy.
The realization that Joey could indeed inflict some serious carnage on my heart had me pushing down every feeling that tried to burrow its way to the surface.
Determined to move past my weird infatuation with my classmate, I avoided the places I knew I might run into him outside of school and kept my wits about me when I was in his presence.
Reconciling with Paul had been a lot easier when I had such a bitter taste in my mouth. Besides, he might say the wrong thing sometimes, but at least I didn’t need to worry about Paul decimating his brain cells with every drug known to mankind.
He couldn’t hurt me like that.
Only one person had the ability to do that.
A shadow fell over my desk then, followed by a pair of perfectly manicured hands as they landed on my desk. “Where’s Joey?”
“Hello to you, too, Danielle.”
“Sorry.” She blushed and offered me an embarrassed smile. “I meant to say hi.”
Not bothering to answer her, I resumed my post of doodling in my homework journal, drawing cute little spider webs, while I waited for our teacher to show up.
“Do you know where he is?” she asked in a much more persuasive tone. “He sits with you for history, doesn’t he?”
“He sure does.”
“So, where is he?”
“Joey’s not here right now, but I can take a message and see that he gets it.” I rolled my eyes and gestured to his empty seat. “Come on. Danielle. How the hell am I supposed to know? I’m not his keeper.”
“I’m sorry, I just thought you would know since you guys are—“
“Friends,” I filled in dryly. “Well, I don’t know.” Lies. “I have no idea where he is.” More lies.
“He didn’t come back to class after big lunch.”
No shit, Sherlock. “I don’t know what to tell you.” Except that she need only take a gander around the back of the sheds to find lover boy. No doubt that’s where he would be, along with Rambo, Dricko, Alec, and all of the other potheads in our year. “He’ll show up when he shows up.”
“But this is our last class of the day.”
Nothing gets past you, does it? “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Perfectly timed, the man of the moment himself decided to stroll into the classroom, and I didn’t need to look at his eyes to know that he was high as a kite. The smell of weed coming off his uniform was strong enough to give me a buzz.
Danielle beamed at him. “Hey, Joey.”
“Dan,” Joey acknowledged, dropping his bag on our desk before sliding past me to take his seat on the inside.
Sinking down on the chair next to mine, he rested his elbow on the back of my chair and flicked my ponytail to get my attention. “Molloy.”
“Joe,” I acknowledged, keeping my gaze trained on my homework journal.
“I’ve been looking for you, Joe,” Danielle said. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“About?”
“Are you free after school?”
“I’m never free after school.”
Oh, burn.
I bit back a snicker.
“Oh, that’s okay.” Her tone was forcefully bright. “Maybe lunch tomorrow.”
“Maybe,” Joey replied before flicking my ponytail again. “Got any more of those chocolates you keep in your pencil case?”
“Don’t know why you keep asking when you already know the answer.”
He moved for my pencil case, and I quickly slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch my Rolos.”
“Jesus,” he muttered, pulling his hand back. “You can’t spare one?”
“I could,” I replied, refocusing on my spider web doodle. “But not for you.”
“Not for me?” Snatching up my pencil, he asked. “Why not for me?”
“Because you don’t even like chocolate,” I grumbled, snatching my pencil right back from his hands. “You have the munchies, and I refuse to feed or enable your bad behavior.”
“I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later, Joe,” Danielle mumbled before retreating from our desk.”
“Yeah, sure.” He poked my shoulder. “My bad behavior?” Grinning like a dope, something that usually happened when he came back from lunch with the stoners, he leaned in close and nudged my shoulder with his. “Come on, Molloy, don’t hold out on a friend.”
“I have a wham bar in my bag. It’s yours if you want it but stay away from my pencil case stash.”
“A wham bar?” Joey gave me a disgusted look. “No fucking thanks. I’d rather starve.”
“Then go right ahead, my friend.”
“Jesus, who pissed in your cornflakes?”
You did, asshole. “I’m sorry, Joe, did I push a button? I was just looking for a way to mute you.”
His brows shot up and he choked out a laugh. “Shit, that was a good one.”
“I know.” A reluctant smile spread across my face. “I was saving it up all day.”
“For me?”
“Can you name another person I would rather mute?”
Another laugh. “Jesus, you’re on fire.”
“And you’re on my last nerve.”
“What’s the matter, Molloy? Are you on the rag or something?”
“Oh my god.” I snapped my gaze to his. “You did not just say that to me.”
He grinned sheepishly. “Don’t we share those details?”
Deciding on making him suffer, I narrowed my eyes and said, “Why yes, Joe. As a matter of fact, I am on my period.” Smiling sweetly up at him, I added, “In fact, I’m having a real hard time getting my tampon out – what with all the blood and all. Care to help a friend out, you know, since that’s your area of expertise and all?”
“I could give it a shot.”
I glared at his stupid head for a long beat before relenting with a laugh. “You’re sick.”
“You said it, not me,” he laughed, still grinning like a dope.
“I was trying to psych you out, asshole.”
“You can’t psych me out, Molloy. I’m immune to your antics,” he shot back, eyes alight with humor. “But you’re definitely psyching someone out.”
I turned my head in the direction Joey was looking and locked eyes on a furious looking Paul.
Great.
Just great.
“Looks like Paul the prick is about to have a coronary over there.”
“Apologies for being late,” Ms. Falvey announced, hurrying into class with a stack of books in her arms. “I was on a call to a parent.”
Sure, she was.
More like she couldn’t be bothered to turn up.
“Can everybody take out their textbooks and turn to page 112. Today, we’re going to be revising the 1916 Easter Rising. It will come up in the junior cert paper in June and you will learn The Proclamation of the Irish Republic off by heart.”
Pulling my book out, I set it down on the table between us, knowing full well that Joey wouldn’t have his copy with him as per usual.
He rarely arrived at school with the required booklist, and spent most of his time bumming hand-me-down copies off teachers, or sharing with whoever was sitting next to him.
I never minded sharing with him, though, because as reckless as he was with his body, he had clear, neat handwriting, and took down notes far more useful and to the point than anything I had ever stolen out of my brother’s schoolbag.
The fact that he could remain so efficient in class while his brain was clearly in an altered state made me even more envious.
“Joe,” I whispered, after spending twenty minutes revising and taking down notes in companionable silence.