“Can I have a cigarette?”
Her brows furrowed as her eyes continued to spill giant teardrops. “A cigarette?”
I nodded slowly. “I’m out.”
Pain filled her eyes and she shook her head before choking out a sob and nodding. “I’ll get you a cigarette.”
“Thanks.”
Scrambling to her feet, she hurried into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a packet of twenty Rothmans and a lighter.
Trembling, she slowly withdrew a cigarette from the packet and put it to my lips before igniting a small flame on her lighter.
I leaned towards the flame and sparked up before sucking in a deep drag.
“Are you okay?”
I shook my head.
“Is anything broken?”
Probably. I inhaled another deep drag before asking, “Where are the boys?”
“In bed.” Her hands were on my shoulders now, moving over my skin, as she checked the damage.
“Where’s Shan?”
“Bed. She has headphones on.”
“Thank fuck.”
When she raised the hem of my school shirt, she choked out a pained sob. “We need to get you cleaned up. Can you stand up for me?”
With slow, calculated, rigid movements, I forced myself to get back on my feet and follow her into the kitchen.
“Take your shirt off,” she instructed, moving for the kettle. “I need to wash those cuts before they get infected.”
Jesus.
I didn’t even want to see what my back looked like.
Balancing my cigarette between my lips, I fumbled with the buttons of my shirt before gingerly sliding it off my shoulders, grimacing when my eyes took in the streaks of blood splattered on the fabric. “Is it bad?”
Mam sucked in another sharp breath.
Yeah, it’s bad.
“Here,” she said, handing me a bag of frozen veg wrapped in a tea-towel. “Press that to your cheek. It’ll help with the swelling.”
“I’m going to need a new shirt for school,” I muttered, reaching for my smoke. “Fucker ruined this one.”
“There’s a spare shirt in the hot-press.” Her hands were on my back then, pressing a wet cloth over my burning flesh. “Just stay still and let me clean this.”
“Am I still bleeding?”
“A bit.”
“Do I need stitches?”
“I don’t think so. Not this time.”
Shaking my head, I took another drag of my cigarette, while my mother cleaned me up. “If he wants me out, I’ll go.”
“I don’t want you out.”
“But I’m not leaving Shan or the boys here,” I continued, ignoring her words. “If I go, they go with me.”
“Joey.”
“I mean it.”
“Nobody’s going anywhere.”
That was the problem. “I know you agree with him.”
“Agree with him about what?”
“About Aoife.”
Her hands stilled on my back. “I don’t want this life for you.”
“Yeah, and I don’t want this life for you.”
Mam sighed wearily. “Joey.”
“I’m going to stand by her, Mam. She’s my girlfriend, and believe it or not, I happen to love her a lot.” Repressing a shudder when her fingers probed a particularly tender park of my back, I bit out, “I’ll stand by her and I’ll do a hell of a lot better job than he did with you.”
“Aren’t you frightened?”
I’m terrified.
“I’m frightened for you,” she said when I didn’t answer. “I wish it wasn’t happening.”
“Well, it is.”
“I wish you both would reconsider getting a—”
“Stop,” I cut her off and warned. “That’s not what Aoife wants.”
“And what about what you want, Joey?”
“I want her to be okay.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yeah, well.” I shrugged and tossed the bag of frozen veg on the counter, before turning to face her, grimacing when my eyes landed on the blood-stained towel in her hands. “It’s all I have.”
“I need you to keep your head down for a few days,” she whispered then, eyes full of guilt. “Just stay out of his way until he calms down. Don’t tell the boys about Aoife. Don’t tell Shannon. Just… just give me some time to work on your father, okay?”
“Are you serious?”
“Joey, it’s complicated.”
This time when she reached for me, I took a step backwards. “It’s always going to be him. You’re always going to choose him.”
“I’m not choosing him. I’m trying to keep my family together.” She took another step towards me and I took three more away from her. “Joey, please.”
“Got anything for the pain?” I asked, unwilling to continue a conversation that would end with me being blamed for everything. “My face is killing me.”
“There’s paracetamol in the cupboard.”
“Mam.”
“No, Joey.”
“I’m asking ya to help me,” I bit out, feeling the desperate hunger for relief steadily clawing its way up my throat. “Please, Mam.”
“Joey.”
“Please,” I ground out. “I’m in pain.”
“I told you that I have paracetamol in the cupboard.”
“Please,” I choked out, resisting the urge to scream fuck your paracetamol. “Just this once and I’ll never ask again.”
“Joey.”
“I’ll beg if I have to.”
“Don’t beg.”
“Please, Mam. Fucking please.”
“Fine.” Tears filled her eyes. “Just this once.”
“What do you have?”
She sniffled before whispering, “Clonazepam.”
Thank fuck. I sagged in relief. “Where?”
Her face contorted in pain and she whimpered, “My handbag,” before walking over to the table and retrieving her bag that was hanging off the back of her chair. “You can have one and that’s it.”
“I need more than one, Mam,” I replied, trailing after her. “Please. One won’t do shit for me.”
“These are very strong.” Sniffling, she unscrewed the cap on her prescription bottle and tipped two C2’s into my outstretched hand. “Don’t ever ask me to do this again.”
“I won’t,” I replied, even though we both knew it was a lie.
MY HEART IS INSIDE HER
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?”