DECEMBER 18TH 2001 AOIFE
“IT’S NOT TRUE.”
“That’s what you said last time.” “It wasn’t true last time, either.” “I don’t believe you.”
“Listen, just come over to my house after school. We can talk properly there.”
“So you can think up another bullshit lie to feed me?”
“Aoife, come on. We’re supposed to working through this. How can we do that if you won’t talk to me.”
“Why don’t you drag me to your house? You’re getting pretty good at forcing things.”
Blowing out a frustrated breath when I refused to relent, Paul stalked over to his desk at the far side of the classroom.
Almost two months had passed since the Halloween disco at the Pavilion, and to say that Paul and I were back on track would be a drastic overstatement –if we ever had been on track to begin with.
I wanted to end it on Halloween night and Paul didn’t.
In the end, we had agreed upon taking a temporary break from each other, which had actually helped our cause for a grand total of three weeks until I caved and agreed to try again.
After that, everything went back to exactly how it had been.
Within a matter of days, we were back to basics, and I was pretty fucking fed up with the whole damn thing.
I knew that Paul was sorry for being rough with me that night and calling me names and had been trying to make it right. Problem was I couldn’t seem to muster up the energy required to join him in fixing our relationship.
Because I wasn’t sure if I still wanted to have one with him. I missed Paul the boy.
I wanted to stick around for that boy. I did not miss Paul the boyfriend.
I wanted to run for the hills from that handsy, possessive bastard.
The only time I seemed to meet the former version of Paul was when we were on the outs.
Only then did he show me affection, take interest in what I had to say, and most importantly of all, treat me with respect.
When he was that version of himself, he was a pretty great guy.
The only problem was that great guy disappeared the minute he slapped a girlfriend label on my forehead.
The minute I had given him what he wanted, the controlling, self- absorbed asshole resurfaced.
Furious with myself for not holding firm but letting him sweettalk me back into a half-hearted relationship, I fought his shitty behavior at every hand’s turn. I knew deep down that I needed to woman up and end it for good, and to hell with the consequences. Because being stuck in this limbo, waiting around for things to change was making me miserable.
Paul’s latest display of assholeness, and the issue that I was currently fuming over, was the fact that there was one rule for me in our relationship and an entirely different one for him.
Flipping out at every hand’s turn if I so much as smiled too long at one of the lads in class, he had no problem doing the same with girls.
The double standards and hypocrisy set my teeth on edge.
He didn’t believe me when I told him that I wasn’t messing around behind his back, but I was supposed to turn right around and swallow every bullshit line he fed me when another rumor about him arose.
This morning, for example, Casey heard from Mack, who heard from Dricko and Sam, that Paul had been seen hooking up with some girl from Tommen College when we were on our break.
When I confronted him about the rumor, he swore it was lies, which led us to our current predicant.
I didn’t know what to believe anymore, but if it was true, I knew that I would respect him more if he would just be honest.
This latest rumor almost felt like the final nail in the coffin for our relationship. If Paul was sneaking around kissing other girls, and I was holding onto my heart for dear life, too afraid to part with it for fear of missing out on a never-was never-will-be relationship with Joey, then we were doomed.
Therefore, it was safe to say that I was coming to the conclusion that I would be better off alone.
Deep down in my heart of hearts, I knew that my giving into giving our relationship another shot had a lot more to do with the hoe-bag who was supposed to be sitting next to me than any of Paul’s apologetic proclamations.
And when I said hoe-bag, I meant Joey.
After our parting of ways at the disco that night, he had wholeheartedly thrown himself into contention for the school slut award.
Unlike before, when he seemed to have a little class and discretion about his conquests. Since that night, he didn’t seem to give a damn about who was watching.
Or that I was watching.
In the weeks that followed since the Halloween disco, we had resumed our comfortable little routine of throwing shade and exchanging banter.
Joey literally never brought up what had almost happened, and acted like nothing had so convincingly, that I sometimes wondered if I dreamt the whole thing up.
I knew I hadn’t, though.
The image of him kissing our classmate was scored on the inside of my eyes.
According to the rumor mill at school, Joey and Danielle had slept together the night of the Halloween disco.
Well, I suppose comparing ‘fucking each other’s brains out against a brick wall at the back of the GAA Pavilion’ to sleeping together was a bit of a stretch.
What I had felt when I first heard about it was worse than bitterness. It had almost felt like heartbreak.
Rumors had continued to circle through the halls at BCS, horrible, vicious rumors about how they regularly hooked up. Rumors which shredded me every time they came my way.
Sick with jealousy every time I had to endure watching her fawn and paw at him during class, I didn’t even try to fight the murderous feeling that ignited inside of my chest when I saw them together.
Because the truth of the matter was that I felt something for him. Something I shouldn’t, and something that definitely wasn’t good for
me.
But I still felt it.
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.
“Hm?”
“If I asked you a question, would you tell me the truth?” “Depends.”
“Something important to me.”
“Like I said, Molloy, it depends,” he whispered, not looking up from his copybook, as he scribbled something down, and then flipped the page over.
“On what?”
“On whether or not you needed to know the truth.” “Fine,” I grumbled. “Forget it.”
Joey sighed heavily and turned to look at me. “Ask your question.” “Will you give me the truth?”
“Just ask your question, Molloy.” “Have you heard any rumors?”
“Rumors.”
“About Paul.” Releasing a shaky breath, I added, “Messing around with some girl from Tommen.”
Joey tensed for a moment before flicking his gaze to where Paul was sitting. A beat passed before he turned his attention back to me. “No.”
My heart sank in my chest. He was withholding.
I knew he was.
“I never thought you’d lie to my face, Joe,” I muttered, feeling thoroughly disappointed in him. “It hurts worse than I thought.”
“I didn’t lie,” he was quick to reply, tone hard. “You asked me if I heard anything about Ricey messing around with some girl from Tommen, and I haven’t heard anything about some girl from Tommen.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means what it means, Molloy.”
I stared at him for a long moment before finally getting his drift. “You’re being semantical.”
He turned his attention back to the open book in front of us. “Do you want me to write down the notes for you?”
“I want you to be real with me,” I whisper-hissed. “Joe, if you know something and aren’t telling me, then I’m going to be really hurt.”
Blowing out a frustrated breath, he rubbed the back of his neck and reached for his pencil. “It’s not my business.”
My heart plummeted into my ass. “Yeah, well, it’s my business.” I reached across the desk and grabbed his forearm. “Tell me, Joe.”
He remained stone-faced when he said, “I’m no rat, Molloy.” “But you are my friend.”
Tossing his pencil back down, he muttered something unintelligible under his breath before turning to face me. “I don’t know about anyone from Tommen, and I’m not going to stand over anything I haven’t seen with my own two eyes, but I know he exchanged some messages with one of the girls from here.”
“You saw those?” My breath hitched. “With your own eyes?” He nodded slowly.
“Who?”
“Molloy.”
“Who, Joe?” “Danielle.”
My heart sank.
Of all the girls in our year, I felt threatened the most by her.
Knowing that not only Joey but Paul had both succumbed to her allure was gutting.
“What happened between them?” “Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me, Joe.”
“Nothing happened,” he repeated. “There were a few text messages exchanged a while back, but that’s as far as it went.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“The fuck was I supposed to say?”
“How about ‘hey, Aoife, your boyfriend is cheating on you’.” “Like I said before,” he growled. “It wasn’t my business.”
“Yes, it was,” I snapped. “You’re my friend, Joey. You’re more my
friend than you are hers. Your loyalty should be with me.” “I don’t know what to tell you, Molloy.”
“The truth,” I snapped. “But apparently, you can’t do that, so you might as well not talk to me at all.”
“I didn’t send any damn messages behind your back,” Joey hissed, eyes flaring with heat as his temper rose “So, pull your head out of your ass and place your anger at the right person’s door. Don’t take your shit out on me, Molloy. I warned you about him. I told you what kind of an asshole he was, but you took him back repeatedly, so don’t fucking start with me.”
Yeah, he did tell me, but that didn’t make this easier.
Pulling my phone out of my skirt pocket, I quickly tapped out a text and glared across the room until the asshole recipient answered me.
Aoife: Danielle? Paul: Danielle what?
Aoife: You were texting her. Paul: No, I wasn’t.
Aoife: Don’t deny it. I’ve heard it all before.
Paul: Aoife, I swear to God I haven’t laid a finger on Danielle. X
Aoife: I didn’t say you touched her, asshole. I said you texted her.
PAUL GLANCED across the classroom at me and shook his head.
I narrowed my eyes in warning as if to say don’t you dare lie to me this time.
Paul: Listen, nothing happened with her. Those texts were a joke. I sent them ages ago. They meant nothing, babe. I can explain everything. I swear xxx
Glowering, I shook my head and shoved my phone back into my pocket, ignoring when it vibrated to alert me that I had received another text.
“Are you okay?” Joey whispered from beside me.
“No,” I snapped, feeling hurt, betrayed, and a million other emotions. “My boyfriend is a lying whore and my best friend’s an even bigger one!”
“You shouldn’t call Casey a whore, Molloy.” “I was referring to you, asshole.”
“I didn’t lie to you.”
“You didn’t tell me the truth, either.” “It wasn’t my —“
“If you tell me that it wasn’t your business one more time, I swear to God I will scream,” I choked out, feeling my eyes water.
“Don’t you dare,” Joey warned, releasing a frustrated growl. “Don’t you even think about playing the girl card and spilling tears on me.”
“Don’t worry, asshole, any tears I spill won’t go to waste,” I snapped, sniffling when I reached up to bat a traitorous tear away. “I’m planning to save them up to drown you with.”
“You asked me to tell you the truth and I did,” he whisper-hissed. “And now you’re mad at me for doing what you wanted me to do in the first place.”
“Because what you should have done in the first place was tell me when it happened,” I choked out, digging him in the side with my elbow. “Not leave me in the dark, looking like a fucking idiot.”
“You don’t need me to help you with that,” he spat. “You get plenty of practice every time you go running back to that asshole boyfriend of yours.”
“Oh, go choke on a clit.” “Fuck you, Molloy.” “Fuck you back.”
Feeling vengeful, I held my hand up and waited for the teacher to notice
me.
“Yes, Aoife?”
“Joey called me fat.” Sniffling, I batted another tear away. “I’m really
upset about it. Can I please be excused?” His mouth fell open. “You bitch.”
Fuck you, I mouthed back at him.
“Joey!” Ms. Falvey snapped, looking horrified. “Yes, Aoife, go on outside and get some air.”
“I didn’t call her fat,” I heard him defend, as I stalked out of the classroom door. “It’s not her weight she has a problem with. It’s that deranged vindictive streak in her.”
 |
I WAS DAWDLING OUTSIDE of the girls bathroom, wasting the last few minutes of class until the final bell rang, when a sour looking Joey came stalking down the corridor towards me.
“Thanks a bunch, Molloy,” he called out, green eyes narrowed, as he closed the space between us. “Falvey put me back on a red book for the foreseeable.”
“Oh please.” I rolled my eyes. “When aren’t you on a report book?” “Do you know how big of a hassle that fucking book is? Having to get it
signed before and after every damn class, and then having to meet up with Nyhan at the end of every day to be bitched at?”
“No,” I drawled, tone laced with sarcasm. “Because, unlike you, I know how to behave myself.”
“No,” he corrected, stopping short when he reached me. “You’re just sneaky enough to not get caught.”
“That, too.”
“Here.” He dropped my school bag at my feet. “You left your bag.” “Thanks.”
“I cleared the stash of chocolate in your pencil case.” I sucked in a horrified breath. “You asshole.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not sorry,” Joey shot back with a shrug. “You deserved it for pulling that stunt on me.” Releasing a frustrated growl, he added, “But I am sorry for not telling you about prick-face sooner.”
Anger dissipated, and feeling sheepish, I leaned in close and nudged his shoulder with mine. “And I’m sorry for telling Ms. Falvey that you called me fat.”
“And?” Joey pushed.
“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.”
