“Stop.” Stilling my wrist with one hand, Joey took the teaspoon I was holding with the other and replaced it with a longer handled wooden spoon instead. “Use this.”
I narrowed my eyes and glared at the wooden spoon in my hand. “Why?”
“Because you might actually stir something with it.”
“Asshole,” I grumbled, shoving him with my hip.
He laughed under his breath. “What’s with the mood, Molloy?”
“I’m not in a mood.”
“Says the girl with a face like thunder.” He nudged my shoulder with his. “You were all shits and giggles a minute ago.”
“I am not in a mood.”
“Fine.” Holding his hands up, he shook his head and moved to the sink. “Suit yourself.”
“I will.”
“You do that.”
“That’s what I’m going to do.”
“Good.”
“Asshole.”
“Crank.”
“Prick.”
“Witch.”
“Shut up,” I spat, furious. “I mean it. Don’t say another word to me.”
“Fine,” he shot back and then sprinkled me with a handful of dirty dishwater. “Don’t say another word to me, either.”
“My hair!” I screamed, abandoning the chili to pat myself down. “Do you have any idea how long it takes me to wash and blow-dry this?”
“My hair,” he mimicked in a high-pitched tone. “Relax. It’s water. You’ll survive.”
Beyond livid, I could see the repercussions of my actions playing out in front of me before it even happened and decided that a few days in detention was well worth taking this asshole down a peg or two.
Deciding against scalding him with chili, I walked over to the sink and reached around Joey to retrieve the bottle of green washing up liquid.
Without a word, I retrieved my stool, set it down behind him, and quietly climbed on top of it.
Reveling in the drama I was about to inflict, I unscrewed the cap, ripped his cap off, held the bottle over his head, and dumped the contents of the bottle on top of him.
The minute the green slime plopped onto Joey’s head; his entire frame stiffened.
“You’re fucking dead,” he growled, slowly turning around as green slime dripped down his hair, face, and shoulders.
“Bring it on, bitch,” I growled, tapping the bottom of the bottle to make sure that every ounce of liquid drained out.
“Aoife!” Mrs. Adams screeched. “What in the name of—“
“Put me down!” I screamed, hands and legs flailing wildly, when Joey threw me over his shoulder, and turned back to the sink. “Don’t you dare – ahhhh!”
“Paul, go and fetch Mr. Nyhan immediately!”
“But she’s—“
“Now, Paul. Hurry.”
“You want to throw down?” Depositing me, ass first, into the sink full of dirty water, Joey reached up and smeared his hands with washing up liquid from his own hair before coating my poor hair snot green. “Then let’s go, Molloy.”
Cheers and laughter erupted around us, but I was too furious to take into account anything other than my thirst for revenge.
“Joey,” I seethed, teeth chattering, as I tried and failed to heave myself out of the sink. “You are so dead.”
“I’m right here,” he taunted, narrowly dodging my nails when I tried to scratch at his chest. “Come and get me, witch.”
“Stop it, the pair of you, right this instant!”
“I swear to all that’s holy, when I get out of this sink, I am going to inflict the world of pain on you, Joey Lynch.”
“Aoife Molloy!”
“Sounds like you need to cool down, Molloy,” he shot back, before reaching for the cold tap and turning it on full blast, soaking whatever parts of my body that had previously been spared from his assault. “Better?”
“Joseph Lynch!”
“Oh my god, help me, you bastard!” I screamed, with my ass thoroughly wedged in the sink, as water sprayed and ricocheted everywhere. “I’m stuck.”
“Good,” he roared back at me, as he scooped clumps of washing up liquid off his chest and face. “Stay there.”
“D-dammit J-Joey.” Gasping, and spluttering, I scrambled to turn off the tap that was spraying arctic water on top of me. “I’m c-cold.”
“And I’m warm?” Depositing the goo on the tiled classroom floor, he repeated the move several times, trying and failing to rid himself of green gunk. “You’re a pain in my hole, Molloy.”
“Jo-jo-joey!” I screamed, teeth chattering violently. “H-help!”
“Fine,” he snapped, exasperated, as he moved to come get me. “But I’m warning ya now—“ Slip sliding on the floor, he righted himself before he fell and regained his balance. “Jesus Christ, the floor’s a death trap.”
“Sh-shut up and s-save me, asshole.”
“Don’t you take that tone with me,” he warned, pointing a finger at me, as he hastily skated the rest of the way over to me. “I’m warning you, Molloy, if you pull anymore stunts, you’re going straight back in the sink for a time-out.”
Ignoring our classmates who were all reveling in my misfortune, I wrapped my arms around Joey’s neck, and tried to help him free me from the sink.
“Shit,” he muttered. “You really are stuck.”
“I t-told y-you,” I strangled out, clinging to him like a drowned cat. “G-get me o-out of he-here!”
“I’m trying,” he bit out. “It’s your ass.”
“If you s-say that m-my ass is f-fat, I’m g-going to s-scream.”
“Your ass is perfect.” Reaching up to grease his hands with washing up liquid from his hair, he tried and failed to un-wedge my hips. “It’s this goddamn sink that’s the problem.”
“Jo-joe…”
“Hang on a sec; I have an idea.”
“What the h-hell are you d-doing?” I choked out, when he pushed his hand between my clamped thighs and cupped me there. “Joey!”
“My bad.” With a deep frown etched on his face, he slid his hand in further until he was gripping my ass cheek. “Okay, now clench.”
“Wh-what?”
“Squeeze your ass, Molloy. You squeeze and I’ll pull. On three, okay? One, two, three—“
“Ugh!” I squealed, clenching my ass cheeks so tight they went into spasm. Thankfully, it did the trick, and I was propelled out of the sink and into his arms.
“Wah-hey!” Several of our classmates cheered, erupting in a chorus of clapping.
“I’m f-free.” I released a sigh of relief. “Oh th-thank Jesus.”
“Yeah, I thought that might work –” Losing his balance on the floor that had become a glorified ice rink, Joey collapsed in a heap on the ground, taking me with him.
There were only three options available to me in this moment; laugh, cry, or keep fighting.
I chose the first one, and surprisingly, so did my partner in crime.
“Fuck,” he choked out a laugh from beneath me. “That was…”
“Stupid.” Lifting up on elbows, I grinned down at him. “I won.”
“No, I won.”
“Who came out on top?”
“You, Molloy.” Shaking his head, he stared up at my face and released an amused sigh. “Always you.”
“They did what?” A booming male voice echoed through the air, and I bit back a groan, when our principal came pounding into the classroom, looking like he was fit to be tied.
“And that’s how you know you fucked up,” Alec laughed.
“Why am I not surprised to see the two of you up to no good – again,” our principal seethed, face turning purple in color, as he glowered down at us. “In my office. Now!”
“Aw crap,” I groaned, dropping my head on his chest. “It was nice knowing ya, Joe.”
“Yeah.” Joey sighed heavily and patted my head. “Right back atcha, Molloy.”
WE ARE NOTHING!
FEBRUARY 1ST 2002
JOEY
Dressed in matching plain grey tracksuits – the ones they kept in the office for students that shit themselves – and looking like we’d been released from Cork prison on compassionate leave, Molloy and I sat in the front row of detention, without a single other student to take the shine off us.
With her hands folded across her chest, and her long, wet hair pulled back in a tangled braid, Molloy glared at the chalkboard in front of us, clearly having resumed whatever grudge she had on me.
She’d been given a week’s worth of lunch time detentions, while I had been told by Nyhan to show up every lunch for the foreseeable future. In other words, the rest of third year.
Stinking of chili and cheap washing up liquid, I leaned in close and took a whiff of her, unsure which one of us smelled worse.