“Something,” Mam cried. “Anything.”
“What do you want me to do, Mam? Go around beating the shit out of her bullies? Because I can’t, Mam. They’re girls. I’m out of my fucking depth with this as much as she is.” Running a hand through my hair, I expelled a harsh breath. “I can’t keep fighting all of Shannon’s battles for her, and I can’t keep fighting all of yours, either.”
“Steal any more cars lately?” Molloy’s familiar voice infiltrated my thoughts, dragging me back to the present, and fuck if my heart didn’t take a U-turn in my chest when she sidled up beside me and nudged my arm with her shoulder. “Nice hoodie.”
“Nah, just the one,” I shot back, returning her nudge. “And nice legs.”
“I’m wearing jeans tonight.”
“Not in my head.”
“Funny.” She grinned up at me and I couldn’t stop myself from mirroring her actions. ““So, what are we smoking tonight?”
Her disapproval was blatant. “How’s your halo, Molloy?”
“In better shape than yours by the smell of it.” Standing in the doorway beside me, I watched as she leaned in close and took a whiff of my smoke. “Mm-mm-mm,” she said in a tone laced with sarcasm. “Smells like debauchery.”
I arched a brow. “You’re killing my buzz, Molloy.”
“Am I?” She beamed up at me. “That’s the best news I’ve had this whole entire shit-fest of a night.”
“Not in the festive spirit?”
“I would prefer to be anywhere than here tonight, Joe, and that’s not an exaggeration,” she told me with a sigh. “Including that freezer that you guys call a garage. Even with my father’s hairy ass crack staring me in the face.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I mean, he owns like ten belts. You’d think he’d wear one.”
A reluctant smile spread across my face. “Maybe you should have a drink; being as it’s New Year’s Eve and all.” Reaching for the bottle of vodka I’d hidden behind the microwave; I waved it in front of her. “Besides, I’ve heard it’s good for the nerves.”
“I’ve already had three beers,” she replied, by way of explanation, as she batted the bottle.
“And?”
“And Paul always gets shitty with me if I have too much to drink?”
“And?”
“And…” She cast a glance to the kitchen door behind her and then shook her head. “And fuck him.”
That’s my girl. “That’s the spirit.”
Turning to grin at me, she asked, “You got any coke to go with that?”
I cocked a brow.
Her eyes widened. “I meant the drink, asshole.”
I winked back at her. “Grab a glass.”
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“No, no, no,” Molloy laughed a couple of hours later, as she sloshed her drink around in her hand, and staggered towards me. “There’s no way you can keep this going.”
“I can go all night, Molloy,” I shot back, feeling a lot more relaxed now that I had half a bottle of vodka in my system.
We were outside the back of Danielle’s house, had been for over an hour, playing this fucked game that Molloy referred to as the one-word game.
What had started with us joking around, taking turns to add one word to make a sentence, had turned into a fucked-up story.
I’d never played before, but as the vodka kept coming, the story kept getting more inventive.
Knotting her fingers in the front of my hoodie, she pulled me close and grinned up at my face. “Gimme that bottle.”
“I don’t know, Molloy,” I taunted, unscrewing the cap, and drinking straight from the bottle. “Any more debauchery and your wings won’t take you up to heaven.”
“Then I’ll just have to stay in hell with you, won’t I?” she teased back, swiping the bottle out of my hand and taking a huge gulp.
She wasn’t an aggressive drunk.
She was a fucking hilarious one.
Obviously, the girl wasn’t keeping the right company on night’s out.
“You’re my best friend,” she blurted out of left field. “But don’t tell Casey, because she’ll claw your eyes out for that title.”
“I’m honored.”
“You should be.”
“Well, you’re mine, too,” I agreed with a chuckle. “But don’t tell Podge because…yeah, he won’t give a shit.”
“So, we’re besties?” she asked, holding her pinkie finger up.
“Fuck it.” I shrugged and hooked mine around hers. “Why not?”
“Yay. Okay, okay,” she laughed, sinking down on the edge of the trampoline, bottle in hand. “Where were we?”
“He was reaching between her legs,” I reminded her, sinking down beside her.
“Oh yes,” she squealed with delight and flopped on to her back, causing the trampoline to sway beneath us.
“And don’t be fucking around with it this time,” I warned, swiping the bottle out of her hands to take a swig. “When it gets to the good bit, don’t choke.”
“I didn’t choke,” she snickered, pulling herself up on her elbows. “Okay, so he was reaching between her legs…” Frowning, she thought hard for a moment, before adding, “when.”
I rolled my eyes. “All.”
“Of.”
“A.”
Her eyes widened. “Sudden.”
“He.”
“Stopped.”
She smirked. “To.”
I arched a brow. “Slide.”
“Her.”
“Thong.”
“Down.”
“Her.”
“Legs.”
“Full stop,” she cackled. “Then.”
“His.”
Her cheeks flushed bright pink when she added, “Mouth.”
“Was.”
“There.”
“There?” I arched a brow. “The fuck, Molloy? Where’s there?”
“Okay, okay,” she conceded, giggle. “His mouth was on.”
“Her.” Grinning, I gestured to her to go right ahead and take her turn.
“No, I can’t, I can’t,” she choked out through fits of laughter, as she flopped back on the trampoline. “Stop trying to make me.”
“Yes, you can,” I laughed. “Say it.”
“I can’t.”
“Say it!”
“Pussy!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “His mouth was on her pussy! There I said it.” Choking out another fit of laugher, she strangled out, “I’m going to wet myself.”
“Jump the fuck off if you are,” I laughed, twisting sideways to watch her roll around on the mat, clutching her side. “If you piss on this trampoline with me on it, I’m going to have to revoke your friendship status, Molloy, and find somebody else to play the one-word game with.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Twisting onto her hands and knees, she crawled back to me and sighed in contentment. “I’m irreplaceable.”
That she was.