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.
PLEAD THE FIFTH
JOEY
We had barely warmed our seats in Irish when the bell of the intercom sounded. The school secretary’s voice pierced through every speaker in the school saying, “Could Joseph Lynch and Aoife Molloy please report to the principal’s office immediately.”
“Can they expel him for knocking her up?” Alec asked from the desk beside ours, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was genuinely serious, I would have decked him. “Because we have a match coming up and we’re bolloxed without him.”
“Don’t think so, Al,” Podge chuckled beside him. “But you never know.”
Gathering my books, I tossed them into my bag and stood up, ignoring the ooohs and oh shits coming from our fellow classmates.
Walking over to the classroom door, I yanked it open and waited for my partner in crime to hurry her ass up and join me.
“Good luck,” Alec called out, giving me two enthusiastic thumbs up, when Molloy joined me in the doorway. “Plead the fifth.”
“What do you think Mr. Nyhan’s going to say?” Molloy asked, reaching for my hand, as she fell into step beside me. “Is he even allowed to bring it up to us?”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?”
“Well, you’re the one who spends most of his time in the office.”
“Only because you’re too sneaky to get caught.”
“Well, I’ve clearly been caught this time.”
“Funny.”
“What if he shouts at me, Joe?”
“If he shouts at you, I’ll break his nose.”
“Don’t break his nose,” she hurried to say. “I need you to not get expelled, okay? Or arrested. Yeah, I’m going to need you to not do both of those things.”
“Fine. I’ll try my best.”
“Oh god, I feel sick,” she groaned when we reached the familiar frosted glass door of the office. “Can we just sneak out and leave early?”
“No.” Shaking my head, I pushed the door open and had to physically lift her inside. “Come on, Molloy. Let’s just get it over with.”
“Your mothers are in the office with Mr. Nyhan. You can go straight in,” Betty announced, not looking up from her computer, as she tapped furiously on the keyboard in front of her. “Good luck.”
“Whose mother?”
“Both of your mothers.”
“My mam’s in there?” I glared at the secretary, who I was on a first name basis with. “Why?”
“Why don’t you go on in there and find out, Joseph,” old Betty shot back, not missing a beat. “You know which door it is.”
Yeah, I did.
Third on the right.
“Good luck, Joe,” Molloy whispered, giving my hand a small squeeze. “Love you.”
“Yeah.” I blew out a breath and held the office door open for her. “Right back at ya, Molloy.”
Beyond uncomfortable, I sat at one side of the meeting table next to my mother, while Molloy and Trish sat opposite us.
On either end of the table sat Miss Lane, our year head, and Mr. Nyhan, our principal, who were doing a fantastic job of talking at us rather than to us.
It wasn’t like Molloy and I were the ones immediately impacted by the pregnancy or anything. Oh no, it was far more pertinent to address our mothers when making decisions on our futures.
Dicks.
Unable to put any amount of pressure on my back, I leaned forward instead, resting one elbow on the table, while dropping my free hand on my lap.
When our principal asked Mam a question, and she turned to give him her full attention. I took the opportunity to discreetly drop the hand I was resting on my lap into her handbag that was sitting on the floor between our chairs. Barely breathing, I rummaged around inside until my fingers probed the familiar circular pill bottle.
Closing my hand around it, I quickly slipped it into my pocket, feeling a rush of relief fill my body at the prospect of not having to face into another night of hell at home.
Zoning their voices out, and the unsettling urge I had to escape to the bathroom and pop a few C2s, I concentrated all of my attention on my girlfriend, who was nervously chewing on the nail on her baby finger, while her wide-eyed gaze flicked between the four adults in the room.
“By which time you’ll be how far along in your pregnancy, Aoife?”
Molloy’s guilt-ridden eyes snapped to Mr. Nyhan. “Hm?”
Immediately by back was up.
She didn’t need to feel guilty about a damn thing.
This was on me.
“How far along in your pregnancy will you be when you sit the leaving cert in June?”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flamed and she roughly cleared her throat before casting a nervous glance in my direction. “What date in June?”
“The seventh.”
“Oh.” Another deep swallow. “I think I’ll be twenty-five weeks by then?”
“You think?”
“Yeah, uh, well, you see, I don’t know for sure.”
“You don’t know for sure?”
“Well, I haven’t had my dating scan yet,” she hurried to explain. “It’s today, actually.”
“Why are you pushing her on this?” I snapped, irritated that he was interrogating her. “She already answered you. Give it a fucking rest, will ya? Jesus.”
“Joey,” Mam snapped, nudging me with her elbow while Molloy gave me a grateful smile.
Choosing to ignore my outburst, which, to be honest, I was mildly disappointed about, Mr. Nyhan turned his attention to Mam. “I know you and Teddy have your hands full with this one, Marie, and I hate to bring it up during such testing times, but I have to ask about Shannon. I sincerely hope that she is settling in well at Tommen.”
“She’s doing very well there, thank you,” Mam replied quietly. “And as for my son, he’s doing a lot better at school since Christmas.”
“Yes, well.” Not bothering to finish his sentence, he turned back to Trish. “Please know that while here at Ballylaggin Community School, we strongly discourage student relationships, we will not turn your daughter away in her hour of need.”
“Turn me away?” Molloy choked out, brows furrowing. “What does that mean?”
“Her hour of need?” I chimed in, shaking my head. “What in the hell kind of statement is that to make?”
“Joey,” Mam snapped again. “Enough.”
“She’s not riding into school on a donkey, looking for shelter,” I growled. “She’s looking for an education, not gold, frankincense, and myrrh.”