“And for you getting the red book back.”
“And?
I blew out an aggravated breath and muttered, “And for threatening to drown you.”
“Hm,” Joey grumbled, nudging my shoulder back. “If it was anyone else, Molloy. If it was anyone else.”
“But it’s me.”
“It’s you,” he confirmed. “Pain in my hole.”
YOU HAVE A BABY
JANUARY 7TH 2002
AOIFE
Joey was late to school on our first day back after Christmas break. When he finally showed up, fifteen minutes into the third class of the day, the circles under his eyes had my anxiety rising at a rapid pace.
“Jesus,” I whispered, when he slumped down beside me. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks,” he grumbled, dropping setting his elbows on our desk and dropping his head in his hands. “You look like dinner.”
I flamed with heat at the compliment. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“What happened to you?” Glancing around class, I checked to see that our teacher was looking elsewhere before leaning in close and whispering, “Are you high again?”
“No, Molloy,” he mumbled, slumped over our desk. “Not high. Just tired.”
“Why?”
“Because I haven’t closed an eye all night.”
“Again, why?”
“Because—“ he paused to yawn. “Sean’s cutting a tooth.”
“Sean?” I stared blankly at his head. “Who’s Sean?”
“He’s my baby—“
“Your baby?” I interrupted, eyes widening.
“Brother.” He lifted his head to glare at me. “Give me some credit, will ya?”
“Sorry.” I winced. “I just…I didn’t know that your mother had another baby.”
“Yep.”
“When?”
“Halloween.”
“Halloween?” My mouth fell open. “Joe, we legit talk every day and you never once mentioned that your mam had another baby.”
“Why would I?” he asked, confusion etched on his face.
“Because that’s the sort of thing that friends tell each other,” I explained. “Friends tell each other personal details like that.”
“Molloy, my mam had another baby.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not two months after the event.”
He shrugged in response.
“So, tell me about Sean?” I asked, resting my elbow on the desk, and twisting sideways to face him.
“What’s to tell?” Joey replied, mirroring my actions. “He’s small, he’s cute, he shits everywhere, and he screams the house down.”
“And he kept you up last night crying?”
“I told you,” he growled defensively. “He’s cutting a tooth. It’s not his fault.”
“I know that,” I coaxed, resting my hand on his forearm. “I wasn’t blaming him. I was just thinking that the walls of your house must be paper thin if he kept you up all night.”
Joey looked at me for a long time before shaking his head.
“What?” I asked. “What does that look mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“Maybe I’ll tell you in another two months.”
I bit back a smile. “You look like you could use a pick-me-up.”
“Yeah, I know, but I don’t get paid until Friday.”
“I was talking about chocolate, Joe.”
“Do you have some?”
“I always have some.”
BACK TO HIM
JANUARY 23RD 2002
JOEY
“Are you going to the disco at the weekend?” Sam, one of the girls from my terrace, asked at lunch on Wednesday. She leaned a hip against the railing at the back of the PE hall and took a second hit from a spliff before passing it back to me.
“At the Pav?” I asked, taking a deep drag, as I balanced on the metal railing.
“Yeah.” She exhaled a cloud of smoke. “From what I hear that blonde in your class has some big plans for you.”
“Who?” My heart did a flip in my chest. “Aoife?”
“Yeah.” Sam snorted. “You wish.”
Yeah, I did.
Regularly.
“No, what’s her face… Danielle,” Jason O Driscoll aka Dricko offered, taking the spliff. “She’s got it bad for ya, Lynchy.”
“Jesus,” I muttered, rubbing my jaw, as the familiar wave of warmth and dizziness washed over me like a warm blanket. “Then no, I won’t going to the Pav at the weekend.”
“Are ya mad, lad?” Dricko laughed. “You’ve got pussy on call with that one.”
“Nice, Jason,” Sam huffed, elbowing her boyfriend in the rib. “Real nice.”
“What?” he purred, hooking an arm around her and pulling her into his chest. “He’s the one fucking her. My baby’s right here.”
“I’m not fucking her,” I growled, shifting in discomfort.
“Again,” Alec chimed in, taking the spliff from Dricko. “Because you’ve been there already, haven’t you, lad?”
“Did you, Joe?” Sam laughed, joining in the fray. “Have sex with Danielle?”
“No,” I bit out, lying through my teeth. “So pack it in, the lot of ye.”
“Because there wasn’t much sleeping happening,” Dricko snickered. “When he was giving it to her up against the back of the pavilion on Halloween night.”
“Nice, asshole,” I grumbled.
“Oh my god, you didn’t!”
“He did, and he can’t even deny it because half the school was there.” Alec erupted in a fit of laughter beside me and I swiftly leaned over the railing and smacking the back of his head. “Ow, Jesus, what was that for?”
“Being a tool.”
“I heard your ma showed up, lad?” Dricko continued to torment me. “Shit luck, huh?”
“Ah, no, she didn’t?” Sam groaned, covering her face with her hand. “Oh my god, Joe, you poor boy.”
“Well, I’m off.” Disgusted with myself more than the topic of conversation, I sprang down from the railing, threw my bag over my shoulder, and sauntered off with my middle finger in the air. “Fuck the lot of ye.”
Ignoring the laughter and taunting behind me, I strolled back into school, dutifully ignoring a smiling Molloy and glowering Paul as I walked.
Knowing that she had once again taken the prick back made me want to erupt like a goddamn volcano.
I couldn’t look at her when she was with him.
I couldn’t fucking bear it.
Seeing her with him made me want to bleach my eyeballs.
It made me fucking ache.
“Hey.” Breathless, Molloy caught up to me at my locker a few minutes later. “Didn’t you see me back there?” she asked, reaching up to grip my arm to steady herself, as she panted.
“Jesus, you need to do something about your fitness levels,” I stated. “You legit ran from the entrance to the lockers.”
“So you did see me?”
“Yeah, I saw you.” Grabbing what I needed from my locker, I slammed the door shut and snapped the small silver lock back into place. “But don’t expect me to talk when you’re with him.” Zipping my bag closed, I threw it over my shoulder and turned to look at her. “I refuse to enable your bad behavior.”
Now, she smiled. “Are you feeding me my own lines, Joey Lynch.”
“Absolutely,” I replied. “And you should take your own advice.”
“Joe.” She blew out a heavy breath. “About Paul—“