“You and Aoife?” Podge asked, eyes widening, and I quickly realized that he wasn’t going to do the same. “Since when?”
“Since I pulled my head out of my ass long enough to see what I was doing to her.”
“Are you serious?”
“Come on, Podge.” I shrugged, deciding to go with the truth for once. “It’s fairly obvious that the road I’ve been traveling down isn’t exactly aligning with the one Aoife’s on, lad.”
“And that matters to you?”
“She matters to me.”
“Are you broken up for good?”
His question caused my heart to plummet into my ass, and my mind to scream fuck, I hope not. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not I can get my shit together.”
“Which you apparently have.”
“And now, whether or not I can keep my shit together,” I forced myself to add. “Which, let’s face it, lad, I don’t have the best track record of doing.”
“So, this time out was her idea?”
“No.” I shook my head. “It was mine.”
“So, does this time out mean that you guys are seeing other people?”
“No,” I balked, feeling sick to my stomach at the thought. “I don’t want to even think about another girl, lad.”
“Is she?” he pushed. “Thinking about other lads?”
“She should,” I muttered. “But no. I don’t think so.”
“And if she does?”
I bit back the urge to roar. “Then I won’t hold her back.”
“Jesus, you really love her, don’t you?”
More than life.
“So what if I do?” I bit out, immediately on the defensive.
“Nothing, lad, nothing,” he was quick to placate. “It’s just that I’ve known you since junior infants, since we were four, and I’ve never heard you admit your feelings for anyone.”
I shrugged, uncomfortable with this line of questioning.
“Obviously, I noticed that weird chemistry the two of you have the second we walked into first year, but I never realized it was that deep.” He shook his head before admitting, “I always figured the infatuation you had with her had more to do with pissing off Ricey than anything else.”
“Ah, yes.” I smirked to myself, thinking back to the countless times down through the years when Ricey had caught us bantering and lost his shit. “That was an enjoyable perk.”
“Could you have pucked the sliotar any further?” Alec panted, jogging back over to us, ball in hand. “I had to climb into the bushes to get it back.”
“Sorry, Al,” Podge chuckled, and then turned back to offer me a wink. “Keep on keeping it together, Joe.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Keep on keeping it together? The plan?” Alec shook his head and groaned, “Why do I always feel like you two are speaking in riddles around me?”
“Because you’re perceptive,” Podge shot back with smirk.
“No, no, I’m not,” Alec grumbled. “I know what you two fuckers are doing. Don’t deny it.”
“He said you were perceptive, Al,” I laughed, pucking the ball towards him. “Do you know what perceptive means?”
“Of course I know what it means,” Alec huffed, catching the sliotar mid-air. “It’s when you’re second guessing everything, and don’t trust a word of what’s being said around you.”
Podge threw his head back and laughed, while I scrubbed a hand down my face before muttering, “That’s paranoia, Al.”
“It is?”
Podge chuckled “Yeah, lad. It’s a whole different word with a whole different meaning.”
“Maybe I did hit you too hard before,” I offered dryly.
“Paranoia.” Alec frowned. “Then what’s perceptive?”
“Something you’ll never be accused of being again,” Podge laughed.
“Right, lads, spread out and we’ll have another puck around before it gets dark,” I instructed, jogging backwards. “We’ve a match against St. Fintan’s next week, and I have no intention of letting those fuckers knock us out of the playoffs.”
“So, the school board got back to you with their decision?” Alec asked, tone hopeful.
“Yeah, they phoned Mam the day before yesterday,” I replied, jumping up to catch the sliotar mid-air. “Apparently, I’m on the last of my nine lives.”
“So, you’re not getting expelled?”
I grinned. “Not this week.”
It was closing in on five in the evening when Podge nudged me in the arm, alerting me to the fact that we had company.
Squinting in the semi-darkness, I tried and failed to put names on the faces watching us from the far side of the pitch, as my hackles rose, and my body tensed up at the unknown threat.
“They’re definitely watching us,” Podge muttered.
“I think they’re from Tommen,” Alec noted, rubbing his jaw. “I’ve definitely seen that big fella in the local paper playing rugby.”
“Yeah, they drink in Biddies.”
“The fuck are they doing here?” I bit out.
“Yeah. Wrong pitch.”
“Wrong side of town, more like.”
We continued to puck the sliotar around for another five minutes until it was clear that they weren’t going away.
“Give me a sec,” I snapped, throwing my helmet off. “I’ll sort this.” Pissed off and irritated, I stalked towards the group of rich pricks huddling at the sidelines of my goddamn pitch.
“Don’t lose the head, Joe,” Podge warned, hurrying after me.
“Yeah, lad,” Alec muttered in agreement. “There’s like six of them over there.”
“Got a staring problem, assholes?”
“Ah, Jesus,” Alec groaned, clutching the back of my t-shirt. “We’re going to die.”
“Are ye deaf?” I demanded, shaking him off, my entire focus on the lads watching me. “I asked ye a fucking question!”
“Yeah, that’s the one,” one of the lads said, before taking a safe step behind an even bigger lad. “You do the talking, Gibs.”
This one had a familiar look about him, with blond hair and a goofy as fuck smile. “Howdy, friend.”
“I’m not your friend,” I seethed, closing the space between us, hurley in hand. “And the last time I checked, the rugby club was on the other side of town,” I reminded them. “You have no business here.”
“Oh, Jesus.” The blond lad’s silvery grey eyes lit up with what I could only describe as playful mischief when he chuckled, “Are we about to have a turf war?”
I cocked a brow. “A turf war?”
“Yeah.” He nodded eagerly. “Like the T-birds and the Scorpions in Grease.”
“Grease?” I gaped at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Don’t mind Gibsie,” another one of them said, and this one was definitely familiar. “He’s a fair bit dysfunctional.”