AOIFE

“WELL, you sure know how to make a splash,” Podge said on Friday morning, when he joined me at our usual lunch table in the canteen for small break. “The whole place is talking about you, Aoif.”

Yes, the entire student body at BCS was talking about me.

Some of the bolder ones were even talking to me, asking me for answers to questions that were nobody’s business.

Hell, even one of the substitute teachers asked me if it was true. Worst of all, Joey wasn’t here.

He hadn’t shown up.

“Is he here yet?” I croaked out, not bothering to acknowledge the obvious. “Was he outside when you went for a smoke at the start of break?”

Grimacing, Podge shook his head. “Not yet. But he’ll be here.”

I glanced at the clock on the wall, feeling my anxiety swell. “It’s ten past eleven, Podge. He’s already after missing the first three classes. School ends at twelve. We only have one class left after lunch.”

“Something must have come up at home.” My boyfriend’s best friend offered me another uncomfortable shrug. “Listen, I know it looks bad, but

there’s no way Lynchy would leave ya to deal with the mob on your own unless it wasn’t important.”

“Yeah.” Feeling sick to my stomach, I drummed my fingers on the desk, and fought back the urge to scream. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

Because I had enough faith in my boyfriend to know that he wouldn’t skip out on me. Joey was a lot of things but he was no coward. Never in his life had he backed down from responsibility, which only caused the anxiety festering inside of me to swell.

Mam had called the Gards last night and reported Teddy. It didn’t take a genius to know that his absence at school was linked to it.

“That’s her,” a group of baby first years whispered, as they hurried past our table, huddled close together. “The pregnant sixth year.”

“Is the guy she’s sitting with the father?”

“I heard she doesn’t know who the father is.”

Damn Miss Lane for giving Casey lunchtime detention. It wasn’t so bad when she was with me during class. She had a mouth like a sailor and an answer for every eejit stupid enough to approach me in the hallway. That mouth had landed her in detention, though, which meant that I was alone and bleeding in the shark tank.

I was grateful to Podge for coming to sit with me. Every other one of my so-called friends were treating me like pregnancy was contagious. Aside from Casey, it was the boys in my class who were being kind.

The girls were awful.

I hadn’t been summoned to the office for the dreaded talk yet, but I knew there was only time in it before the rumors of my wayward ways reached our

principal’s ears.

“How’d Lynchy take the news?” Podge asked, dragging me back to the present. “I tried to call him a few times, but he didn’t answer.”

“Better than could be expected.” I blew out a shaky breath. “Especially after how he found out.”

“Shitty behavior out of your brother,” he offered. “Telling Ricey before Lynchy knew. Jesus, that’s low.”

“Don’t,” I groaned, still feeling sick at the thought. “I’m so done with Kev.”

“So, what’s the plan?” I blinked. “The plan?”

“Yeah.” Podge nodded. “Are you going to have it?”

“Yes,” I bit out, feeling oddly defensive. “Obviously.”

“Good for you.” Nodding to himself, Podge scooped up a spoonful of yoghurt and popped it into his mouth. “He’ll do right by ya.”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I know he will. It’s just… It’s just a huge mess, you know?”

“I don’t want to even think about it.” “I don’t blame you.”

“Listen.” Reaching across the lunch table, he pressed a hand on my shoulder and gave me a supportive squeeze. “You’re not the first to have a baby off a lad in school, Aoif,” he offered. “And you sure as shit won’t be the last. Just ignore them. You’ll be old news soon enough.”

“Yeah, Podge, thanks and all,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks burn from the intense stares I was receiving. “But somehow I doubt this is going away any time soon.”

“Hey, sexy-legs, I slapped the shit out of your brother just now,” Alec declared, sinking down on the table in front of us. “Hope ya don’t mind.”

My eyes widened. “You did?”

“Of course.” He winked. “Lynchy’s on his last warning, so he couldn’t do it. And I couldn’t have Brains doing my favorite girl dirty like that.”

“Where is he now?”

“Who? Brains?” Alec shrugged. “On the phone to your mammy, I suspect.”

“Aw, Al…” I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face, thrilled that little shit got put in his place. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Anytime,” he replied with a grin. “And just so you know, even with a big belly on ya, you’ll still be completely rideable.”

“Smooth, Al,” Podge chuckled. “What every girl wants to hear.” “I call dibs on godfather,” Alec chimed in.

“You can’t call dibs on godfather, asshole.” “I just did.”

“Well, it doesn’t count,” Podge huffed. “If anyone’s going to be godfather, it’s going to be me.”

“Nope, see, sexy-legs is going to give devil-tits the nod as godmother, which gives Lynchy free rein over who his spawn’s godfather will be.”

“Yeah, because referencing our best friend’s unborn child as spawn is something a godfather would say.”

“Listen, ginger-pubes, it’s happening, so back the fuck off and don’t even think about trying to steal my thunder on this.”

Podge shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’d rather have ginger pubes than a crab infested cock.”

Alec gasped. “I don’t have crabs.” “Anymore.”

“I never had crabs.” He narrowed his eyes. “I was scratching because I

shaved my balls and the itch was fucking horrendous!” I laughed. “You shaved your balls, Al?”

“Oh yeah, Al here is big on the man-scaping,” Podge chimed in, as the bell sounded around us, signaling the end of small break.

“What can I say?” Alec jumped up and offered me a lopsided grin. “I’m a gentleman.”

“Do you want to walk with us, Aoif?” Podge asked, rising to his feet. “We’re all in Irish with Dineen next.”

“I’ll catch up with you guys,” I said, waving them both off. “I need to pee.”

“Keep that head up, sexy-legs,” Alec called over his shoulder as he sauntered out of the canteen with Podge. “And keep those legs closed until my god-child is fully cooked.”

“Thanks, Al.” I sighed heavily, ignoring the gawks and stares I was receiving. “Thanks a lot, buddy.”

 

 

I WAS in coming out of the bathroom, on my way to Irish, when my brother stopped me in the hallway. “We need to talk.”

Dutifully ignoring him, I sidestepped him and kept walking.

“Aoife, stop.” He caught ahold of my arm and pulled me back to him. “Please. We need to talk about this.”

“What’s wrong, Kev?” I snapped, begrudgingly falling into step alongside him as we walked down the corridor towards my classroom. “Are you blaming me for your busted lip, too?”

“Your boyfriend’s henchman hit me.”

“Yeah, well, snitches get stitches, asshole.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Holding his hands up in front of me, my brother tried to reason with a part of my heart that wasn’t there anymore. Not for him, at least. “I know what I did was shitty, okay? It was a really bad thing to do, Aoif. I get that now.”

“Too little, too late.”

“Aoife, please?” He sighed heavily. “Come on.”

“No. You’ve heard what people are saying about me,” I replied flatly, stopping outside of my classroom door. “You’ve seen how they’ve been treating me. You cultivated that, Kev. You orchestrated this whole damn thing. So, shove your apology up your ass, because it doesn’t fix anything for me.”

“What you said yesterday about Joey? You were right,” he admitted, scrubbing his jaw with his hand. “I don’t like him. He does threaten me. I did do it to hurt him.”

He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know.

“But I didn’t take into account what my actions would do to you,” he added, sounding genuinely remorseful. “I didn’t think, period.”

“What you did can’t be fixed with an apology,” I replied, unwilling to bend. “You can’t detonate a bomb on someone’s life and then say oops when everything is blown to hell.”

“How’s the uncle-to-be?” Paul said, when he stepped out of our classroom. Slinging an arm around my brother’s shoulder, he smiled cruelly at me, while addressing my brother. “Alright, Kev?”

Looking embarrassed, my brother shrugged awkwardly before muttering, “Alright, Ricey?”

“Oh, bog off, Paul,” I growled, just about done with his bullshit. “I’m trying to have a private conversation with my brother.”

“Private?” He sneered at me like I was a piece of shit on his shoe. “There’s not a whole pile private about you, now is there, Aoife?”

Glaring up at him, I gave him the finger. “Screw you.”

“I told you that he’d ruin you,” he pushed cruelly. “And now look at the state you’re in.” His gaze trailed over me, lingering on my stomach before he shook his head. “You’re already getting fat.”

“Ricey,” my brother tried to defend. “Leave her alone.” It was a pitiful attempt, and once put under the pressure of Paul’s stare, he crumbled, shoulders slumping.

“What do you care, lad?” Paul laughed. “You said it yourself; your sister’s a fucking slut.”

I cast a glare to my brother, who had the good grace to bow his head in shame.

“You think I care about your opinion, Paul?” I shot back, determined to defend myself against this asshole’s taunting. “The best thing I ever did was get away from you.”

“No, that was the best thing you ever did for me,” he sneered. “It was the worst thing you ever did for yourself, because now all you’ll ever be is the mother of that junkie scumbag’s little bastard.”

“Say it again.”

The breath left my body in a dizzy rush when a familiar menacing voice filled my ears.

My shoulders sagged and I honestly felt like I was about to collapse from the surge of relief that rocketed through my body.

“Say it again, asshole,” Joey repeated, coming up to stand behind me.

Tossing his hurley and helmet on the floor, he let his schoolbag fall off his shoulder, and hooked one strong arm around my waist before backing me up against his hard chest. “I dare ya.”

Shivering when his hand smoothed over the small swell of my stomach, I felt like crying when his thumb gently moved up and down.

“This is the part where you run,” I told my asshole ex. “Fast.”

My brother opened his mouth to speak, but Joey got there first. “You should listen to your sister.”

It was almost comical how quickly both boys took off, bolting off in opposite directions.

“Yeah, you should run,” I called after my brother, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort, as I leaned against my boyfriend’s chest. “You little bitch.”

“I’m so fucking sorry I’m late,” Joey muttered when they were out of earshot. “I overslept.”

“I’m just glad you’re here,” I replied, turning in his arms. “I didn’t think you were going to show – what the hell happened to your face?”

My mouth fell open and I gaped at the horrific bruising and swelling on the left side of his face.

“Jesus Christ, Joe.” I reached up to touch him. “Your cheek.”

“Yeah, I think it’s broken,” he muttered, gently batting my hand away, as he reached for his bag and hurley. “Don’t touch it, okay? It’s tender as fuck.”

“Broken?” I swallowed the lump in my throat as my heart cracked clean open.

He took another beating from his father. Another broken bone.

Another chip of his heart that would never be pieced back together.

“He did this to you.” My voice cracked. “Because of me? Because of the baby?”

“No, not because of the baby,” he replied in a soft tone. “Because he’s a prick.” He opened the classroom door and gestured to me to go first. “This isn’t on you.”

“And what time do you call this?” Mr. Dineen demanded when we walked into class.

“Sorry we’re late, sir,” I declared before the teacher could go in on my boyfriend like he usually would. “We’re having a bit of a crisis.”

“A crisis?”

“Morning sickness,” some asshole fake-coughed from the back of the class, evoking a chorus of wolf-whistles and ooohs.

“Right, well, I’ll let you off just this once,” our teacher replied, cheeks reddening, as he gestured for us to take our seats.

Hurrying to the back of the class, I took my seat in the back row and watched as Joey waited at Mr. Dineen’s desk for him to sign his red book.

On his way back to our desk, his movements were stiff and rigid and I knew all too well that the marks on his face weren’t the only ones his father put on his body.

My heart cracked at the thought.

“Joe,” I whispered, when he carefully lowered himself onto the seat beside mine.

“It’s all good, Molloy.” He tossed his hurley and helmet on floor at his feet, before turning to give me his full attention. “I’m fine.” His green eyes were warm and full of affection when he leaned in close and whispered, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah?” He slipped his hand under the desk and squeezed my thigh. “Well, you look good, baby.”

How he could be so good to me, so considerate and caring of my feelings, when he was going through hell, was beyond me.

“I love you,” I whispered, covering his hand with mine. “So much.”

“I know.” Blowing out a pained breath, he entwined his fingers with mine. “I know, Molloy.”

“It’s bad enough that you’re both late to my class, but you have the nerve to have a full-blown conversation,” Mr. Dineen barked, glowering at us. “Joseph, would you care to tell the class what you two are whispering about? In your native tongue, if you will, since I have spent the past six years attempting to teach you the language.”

“Ceart go leor, a mhúinteoir,” my boyfriend replied with a nonchalant shrug as he replied in As Gaeilge. “Bhí mé ag rá le mo leannán go bhfuil grá agam di.”

My heart slammed wildly in my chest as I mentally translated his words.

Fair enough, teacher. I was telling my sweetheart that I love her.

“Dúirt mé léi freisin go bhfuil cuma álainn uirthi,” Joey continued to say, not missing a beat. I also told her that she looks beautiful. Shrugging, he added, “Agus go bhfuil mo chroí istigh inti.” And that my heart is inside her.

“Go hiontach,” Mr. Dineen replied, arching a brow. Impressive. “Le haghaidh buachaill nach n-éisteann sa rang.” For a boy who doesn’t listen in class.

“Sea.” Joey smirked. “Tá a fhios agam.” Yeah, I know.