“Kids are cruel,” I offered, giving him the perfect opportunity to tell me about the altercation he and Shannon had at Biddies.
“They sure are,” was all he offered in return.
No bragging.
No pissing contests.
No explanation.
Just stoic silence.
Well, shit.
“Are you going to tell me about it?”
Silence.
“Ciara Maloney’s boyfriend,” I mused, lips twitching when he made no move to comply. “Some fella from Tommen beat the shit out of him in town yesterday.”
“Oh?” He shrugged noncommittally. “Is that so?”
I smirked. “Yeah, it is.”
“Well, I hope he fucked him up,” he finally offered, folding his arms across his chest. “Heard his girlfriend’s a bitch.”
“I heard he was in a bad way,” I replied evenly. “Broken nose, and a few stitches.”
“How awful.” Kav’s tone was dripping with disdain, his eyes void of any empathy – or regret.
“Anyway, I just wanted you to know I appreciate that my sister has someone looking out for her when I can’t.”
“No problem.”
“A friend,” I said slowly, watching his reaction. “My sister needs a friend, Kavanagh. She doesn’t need to be getting her hopes up on a guy who’ll be gone come the summer.”
Or her heart broken.
“I won’t hurt her, Joey.”
The sincerity in his voice, and the vulnerable look in his eyes assured me that not only was my sister’s heart on the line here, but so was his.
Poor fucker had gone and caught himself some big old feelings.
For my sister, of all people.
Go figure.
“I think you’re right about them,” I said when I climbed back into the driver’s seat.
“I usually am,” Molloy mused, as she looked through the stack of cd cases in her hands. “But indulge me anyway.”
“That big, overgrown fucker?” Fastening my seatbelt, I started the car, and turned to look at her. “Yeah, I’m fairly sure he’s banging my sister.”
“No way?” Throwing her head back, she laughed. “Go Shannon.”
“She’s fifteen.”
“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes at me. “Like you’re in the position to throw stones.”
“Exactly,” I bit out, driving down the tree-lined lane towards the road. “We all know what a shit-show fifteen was for me. Shannon should be learning by my mistakes, not following in my footsteps.”
“She’s sixteen tomorrow,” she reminded me.
“Worse still,” I groaned. “Sixteen was another train-wreck of a year for me.”
“Hey!” Molloy folded her arms across her chest and huffed out a breath. “I take offense to that statement.”
“Why?”
“Because I was in your life for both of those years.”
“Ah, but I didn’t get naked with you until seventeen,” I reminded her, winking. “Seventeen was a far more productive year for me.”
“No, you didn’t get naked with me until you were seventeen,” she agreed with a sudden bite to her tone. “Because, if I recall correctly, you were too busy sticking your dick in most of the girls in Ballylaggin and at least fifty percent of our friendship circle at school.”
“Funny. Because if I recall correctly, you were the in that four-year relationship with one of my teammates.”
“Three and a half years,” she corrected with a growl. “And that was totally different.”
“How?”
“Because I never slept with Paul. I’ve only ever been with you.”
“Yeah, and I never loved any of the girls I slept with, because I’ve only ever loved you.”
“So, I get your heart, while you get my heart and my virginity?”
“Sounds about right.”
“That’s not a fair trade.”
“Tough shit.”
“Joey!”
“What do you want me to say?” I demanded in exasperation. “I can’t go back in time and un-stick my dick in the first girl I slept with, Molloy.”
“How about just the first fifty?”
“Now, you’re being ridiculous,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “I haven’t been with fifty girls. I don’t even know fifty girls to begin with.”
“Well, I can name at least ten girls from school that know you on an intimate level,” she was quick to point out. “And those are only the girls from BCS, Joe.” She finally decided on a disc then, one of her older burner-CDs, labeled JL 4 AM 1999 in black sharpie ink, and popped it into the stereo.
A few seconds later, Joey from Concrete Blonde drifted from the speakers.
“Turn it off,” I warned. “I mean it.”
“No, I like it, and don’t change the subject,” she argued. “We were talking about the fact that you’ve made your way through half of the girls at school.”
“How did a conversation about Johnny Kavanagh’s sex life switch into a fight about our previous sex lives?”
“Your previous sex life, Joe,” she corrected hotly. “My entire sex life, past, present, and future starts and ends with you.”
“And my sex life, present and future starts and ends with you.”
“But not your past.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Molloy.”
“How about the truth?”
“The truth about how your mood swings are on another fucking planet?” I bit out, jaw clenched. “Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you lately?”
“It was Danielle Long, wasn’t it?” she pushed, ignoring my very accurate assertion. “I know you slept with her. Multiple times. But she’s the one who took your virginity, isn’t she?”
“Why are we even talking about this?”
“Because I want to know.”
“What does it even matter?” I growled, knowing full well that whatever I said or didn’t say, could and would be used against me in the court of Aoife Molloy. This was a dangerous fucking conversation, one that I had deftly managed to avoid until now, and one I could never in a million years win. “The past is in the past for a reason.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Then drop it.”
“Alright. Fine.”
“Well, alright then.”
“Fine.”
“Good,” I replied, nodding. “Glad that’s settled.”
She shrugged. “You’re still a huge whore, but whatever.”
“Really, Aoif?” Fresh out of patience, I flicked my attention from the windscreen to her. “You want to get salty with me over something I can’t change?”
“Nope,” she replied all snippy, with her nose in the air. “Just stating facts.”
“You’re absolutely right; I do have a past,” I agreed, pissed off. “One that doesn’t include you. One where, yes, I did have sex with other girls. One where I’ve made some questionable decisions. I am no fucking angel. I’ve never pretended to be.”
“But was it her?” she asked, chewing on her lip, when we pulled onto Elk’s Terrace. “Danielle? Was she your first?”