AOIFE
“It’s been over a week,” Casey exclaimed, sliding onto the stool next to mine at our workstation in Biology on Friday. We were early for class, and, with the exception of a few stragglers at the other end of the lab, we were thankfully alone. “You have to tell him, Aoif.”
Keeping my eyes trained on my pencil case, I didn’t even try to stop my hands from shaking. They hadn’t stopped since my world fell around me. “I know.”
“And you have to go to the doctor.”
“I know.”
“I can make the appointment and go with you.”
I shook my head. “No.”
She sighed heavily. “Aoife.”
“I’m not ready, okay?” The tremor in my hand increased to the point where I couldn’t open the zip of my pencil case. “I’m just not.”
“You still have options, you know,” she said softly, reaching over to open my pencil case for me. “Fuck this country. There’s always England. We can get on a boat to Liverpool in the morning, if that’s what you want. If you want it to be over, then it can be.”
“I know,” I whispered, biting down on my lip.
“So, you have thought about it?”
“Of course I’ve thought about it.” Blinking back my tears, I nodded slowly. “It’s the best thing for both of us. I’m not stupid, Case, I know it’s what’s best in the long-term, but it’s too late for that.”
“It’s not too late,” she was quick to point out. “If we leave tomorrow—”
“No, no, it is for me, okay.“ Exhaling a ragged breath, I dropped my head in my hand and buried a sob. “I’ve thought about it and I can’t do it, Case. I just can’t, okay?”
“Okay,” she conceded, tone soothing “Okay, Aoif.”
Slowly exhaling, I concentrated on keeping my breathing even, deep and slow, and not giving into the panic clawing at my throat.
“So, you’re going to go through with this?” she said softly. “You’re really going to have Joey Lynch’s baby?”
Words failed me and I clenched my eyes shut, barely managing to nod my head.
“And keep it?” she asked cautiously. “You’re going to keep it?”
“Yeah,” I squeezed out, hand moving to rest on my stomach, only to think better of it and grip the desk instead. “I guess I am.”
“Then you have me,” she said, sliding her arm through mine, as the lab started to fill up with other students. “And I’ve got your back. Always.”
“We’re supposed to be going to the cinema tonight,” I told her in a shaky tone, eyes trained on the front of the room. “He texted me about it earlier.”
“Then maybe you guys can have a conversation afterwards,” she offered in a hopeful tone.
“He won’t be able to handle it, Case,” I whispered, teeth chattering from nerves. “He’ll go off the rails again.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” Knees bopping anxiously, I blinked away another batch of tears. “It will wreck him. He’s been doing so well. Better than I could have imagined. And this? This will ruin him.”
“Either way, he has to be told,” she replied gently. “You know that, Aoif.”
“Yeah, I do.” I nodded weakly. “But my world is already collapsing around me. Can you blame me for wanting to delay that for him?”
“Well, don’t delay it too long,” she mumbled. “Because you’re starting to show.”
Those words were all it took for everything inside of my stomach to come rushing back up.
Bolting off my stool, I ran out of class, not stopping until I was on my knees in the girls bathroom, with my head in the bowl and my life in pieces around me.
I’M REALLY SCARED
JOEY
“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” I asked Molloy on Friday night, as we took our seats in the middle row at the cinema.
She shook her head.
“Thirsty?”
Another head shake.
She had been banging on about going to see Boogeyman for weeks now. I’d finally managed to get a night off work to take her, and she couldn’t look more miserable if she tried.
She wasn’t talking.
She wasn’t eating.
She wasn’t smiling.
The girl sitting next to me was not the same girl who climbed out of my bed last week and I was really starting to worry.
“So, I heard a rumor this evening,” I decided to go with next, knowing that Molloy could never resist some juicy gossip. “According to Mack, that Johnny Kavanagh lad from Tommen kicked seven kinds of shit out of Ciara Maloney’s fella in Biddies this evening.”
When she didn’t reply, I continued to ramble on, hoping to stir some sort of reaction from her.
“Apparently, Ciara and Hannah were giving Shan shit as usual, and yer man Kavanagh absolutely lost it. Knocked over a table of drink and everything. Gave that Murphy lad a right kicking,” I added, stuffing a handful of popcorn into my mouth. “I reckon there’s something going on there; between Shannon and Kavanagh. She’d never admit it, of course, but I’m not thick. I mean, first he’s driving her home from school, then he’s taking her to the pub, and now he's publicly defending her honor and settling scores with a bunch of bitches that have been hounding her for years? Sounds a little more than just friends, if you ask me.”
A half-hearted, “Oh?” was all I got for my troubles.
At a complete fucking loss at what to say or do next, I drummed my fingers on the armrest and decided to concentrate on the screen in front of me.
It wasn’t coming easy, though.
Not when I could literally feel the anxiety wafting from my girlfriend.
“Joe?” Molloy finally whispered, an hour or so into the movie. “I need to tell you something.”
“Hm?” I turned to look at her, relieved that she was finally making conversation. “Yeah?”
“I’m…” Her green eyes were wide and full of panic. “I’m…”
“You’re what, Molloy?”
“Scared.” Exhaling a shaky breath, she shook her head and reached for my arm, draping it over her shoulders as she leaned into my side, “I’m really scared.”
“It’s just a film,” I whispered, tightening my arm around her. “It’s not real life. Don’t let it freak you out.”
“I know.” Shivering, she buried her face in my chest, and fisted the front of my hoodie in her hand. “I’m just… I’m still scared.”
Confused, I looked down at the way she was clinging to me and felt even more uneasy than before.
The way she was acting was all wrong.
None of this sat well with me, because this was the same girl who loved gore and horror in movies.
“Do you want to leave?”
She shook her head.
“I can take you home.”
Another head shake.
“You’re clearly miserable.”
“I don’t want to go home.”
“Then what do you want from me, Molloy?” I asked, feeling helpless. “What can I do here?”