Reaching over, Casey gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, and mouthed, “it’s going to be okay.”
I couldn’t return her reassuring smile.
I couldn’t even breathe.
As my gaze flicked between my best friend and my boyfriend, I felt the walls of the canteen close in around me.
This isn’t happening.
This can’t be happening.
And yet, here I was on the verge the unspeakable, and the brink of a mental breakdown.
“Hey.” Joey’s voice broke through my frantic thoughts, and I felt his fingers on my chin, tilting my face up to look at him. “You good, queen?”
“Yeah.” Releasing a shaky breath, I leaned my cheek against his hand, reeling in my panic and the warm feel of his touch on my skin. “It’s all good, stud.”
His green eyes were clear, focused and full of unconcealed affection.
The way he looked at me now was worlds apart from the way he used to.
I could see the trust he had for me. He didn’t try to hide his feelings from me anymore and seeing all of this in his eyes only made my stomach knot up tighter.
He turned back to his friends, chatting and laughing, but he kept his hand on my cheek, as his thumb traced the curve of my jaw, and I was grateful for the contact.
Shifting closer, I leaned my other cheek against his side, and clenched my eyes shut, inhaling his scent and taking comfort in the sheer strength of his body.
In the moment.
Because I knew that once I told Joey, the moment I conveyed to him his biggest fear, then everything we had worked so hard to build would go clean out the window.
His trust.
His communication.
His sobriety.
No.
Clenching my eyes shut tighter, I repressed the urge to sob.
I couldn’t let this happen.
PART THREE
MOOD SWINGS AND MISTER RUGBY
JOEY
I was having a very weird week, in which some of the females in my life were acting strange as hell.
Molloy, who had never been short of something to say a day in her life, had barely spoken more than a few sentences to me since yesterday, and her little sidekick, who had been just as blessed with the gift of the gab, had spoken even less.
When school finished, she couldn’t get away from me fast enough, mumbling some shit about having a hair appointment before burning off in her car with said sidekick in tow.
I wasn’t stupid.
Clearly, I had fucked up somewhere between yesterday morning when I left her outside the changing rooms for P.E and today, but I was struggling to pinpoint where exactly.
I kept my hands to myself during P.E yesterday and didn’t get myself expelled. Christ, I’d even slipped out of Construction early to snag her a packet of Rolos in the tuck shop. Sure, I had a smoke behind the shed with the lads at lunch today, same as always, but it was a cigarette and not a hit from Rambo Regan’s perfectly rolled joint, tempting as it had been. All in all, I thought that the first two school days of the week had been productive.
I didn’t even get detention.
However, the way Molloy had all but catapulted herself away from me the minute the final bell went yesterday, and then again today, and the two text messages I sent her that had gone unanswered, assured me that I had indeed fucked up along the way.
“I don’t know what to tell ya, Trish,” Tony snapped, stalking into the office with his mobile pressed to his ear. “I’ll have a word when I get home. Yeah, right. Bye, bye, bye.”
He ended the call and released a strained growl.
“Everything okay there, Tony?”
“I don’t know, Joey, lad, I really don’t,” he grumbled, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “There must be something in the water today.”
“How’d you figure?” I asked over my shoulder, as I spooned sugar into two mugs of coffee.
“That wife of mine,” he said, brows furrowed, as he took the mug that I held out for him. “That’s the fourth time today that she’s phoned me up to give out. If it’s not the dog shitting on her flower bed, then it’s the tap leaking, or the socks I left on the bedroom floor, or that young one of ours slamming doors and giving her cheek.”
“Aoife?”
He nodded and took another sip of his coffee. “On the warpath since yesterday, apparently.”
I knew it.
I fucking knew she was in a bad mood.
“Doesn’t she have an evening shift at the pub on Tuesdays?”
He nodded. “According to Trish, she almost took the front door off its hinges when she left for work.”
“For real?”
“Do yourself a favor, Joey, lad,” he said. “And steer clear of my house for the evening. Sounds like both of the women who live there are on the warpath.”
“Jesus,” I muttered, rubbing my jaw.
“Good lad yourself,” he said, giving my shoulder an approving squeeze. “Best to keep a wide berth when one of my girls is brewing up a storm.”
Unease filled me, followed by a wave of concern.
Molloy didn’t keep shit from me.
That was not how she rolled.
When she had a problem, I was the first one to hear about it – especially since I was usually the problem.
“I’m going out back for a smoke,” I told her father, grabbing my phone off the counter before heading for the door.
“Don’t do it, son.”
“Do what?”
“Put yourself in the eye of the storm by phoning my young one,” he called after me with a chuckle. “By the sound of it, she won’t think twice about swallowing you whole.”
Jesus.
Still, like a glutton for punishment, I stepped out back, sparked up a cigarette, and dialed her number, ignoring the dozen or so messages I’d received from Shannon.
My sister could wait.
My girlfriend came first in this instance.
When it rang out, and went to voicemail, my unease spread.
Redialing, I held the phone to my ear and took a deep drag of my cigarette.
Five rings in and she finally answered. “Hello?”
“It’s me.”
“Yeah, I know.” Her tone was clipped. “Your number came up.”
“What’s wrong?” I came right out and asked her. “You’re pissed.” No point in beating around the bush. “Tell me why.”
“Nothing.” She sighed down the line. “Everything’s fine.”
“Don’t bullshit me.” Taking another drag, I exhaled a cloud of smoke and said, “I know something’s up, Molloy.”
“Joe.”
“Tell me.”
“There’s nothing up.”
“Liar.”
There was a long pause and the sound of cutlery clattering filled my ears, before her voice came back on the line. “Listen, I need to go. I’m at work.”
“What time are you finished?”
“Half ten,” she said quietly.
“I’ll walk you home.”
“I have the car.”
“Fine. I’ll walk over to the pub and drive you home.”
“You finish at nine.”
“I’ll wait.”
“Joe, I need a night to myself, okay,” she said, tone strained. “I’ve, ah, well, I just do, okay?”
“Are you mad at me?” I asked, hating the helpless feeling eating me alive. “Did I do something to upset you?” I swallowed down a growl before asking, “Are you pissed that I didn’t do something when Ricey knocked you over in P.E yesterday? Because I wanted to, Molloy. I was fully prepared to kick the shit out of him for putting his hands on you.”