“Joe, I really feel like you weren’t…”
“Don’t, okay?” Annoyed, I stood up and moved for her door. “Don’t make me a victim, Shan. It’s not the narrative of my story.”
“Do you wish Aoife was your first?” she thankfully changed the subject by asking.
“Every day,” I admitted with a shrug. “It’s fucking miserable knowing that I threw something around that means so much with the right person. It’s even worse knowing that she knows it.”
“So, she waited for you?”
“I’m not talking about Aoife, Shan,” I replied. “A lad has limits, ya know. Ask what you want about my sex life, but not my girlfriend’s, okay?”
“You really love her, don’t you?”
“It’s not just about love. It’s about respect.”
“And compatibility.”
“And friendship.”
“And loyalty.”
“Exactly.”
“Wow,” Shannon breathed. “You’re very sweet under that prickly exterior, aren’t you?”
“I’m hungry under this prickly exterior,” I muttered, desperate to get away from the topic of the birds and the bees. “Want to make your favorite brother something to eat before he has to go to work?”
“Okay.” Sighing heavily, she climbed off her bed and walked right up to me, wrapping her skinny arms around my waist. “But only because you are my favorite brother.”
YOU DON’T GET TO LET ME
AOIFE
Are you going to speak to me?
Nope.
Come on, Molloy. Don’t be cranky.
Shut up and watch the movie.
I’m not talking. I’m texting.
Yeah, well, I can hear your stupid voice in my head.
Witch.
Asshole.
I’m not staying over if you’re not going to talk to me.
Ha! Try and leave. I dare you.
Fine, but I’m not snuggling you.
Good. I don’t want you to snuggle me. You stink of weed.
Pity it’s not mellowing you out.
Shh. I’m trying to watch the film!!!
Fine.
Stop playing Snake on your phone.
Stop being a bitch.
I will, as soon as you stop being an asshole!
“For fuck’s sake.” Tossing his phone down on the mattress between us, Joey folded his arms across his chest and glared at my bedroom ceiling. “This cold shoulder crap is bullshit.”
No, it wasn’t bullshit.
It was a direct consequence of his bullshit.
With only the screen of my portable television lighting the room, I watched from the corner of my eye as Joey huffed and puffed like a frustrated bull.
My boyfriend was being an asshole, and I had every intention of letting him know it.
Surprisingly, my silence was irking him a hell of a lot more than my words had.
“Molloy.” Shirtless, he sat straight up on my bed and ran a hand through his hair. “Come on. I haven’t done anything wrong today.”
“The fact that you have to add the word today to the statement ‘I haven’t done anything wrong’ speaks volumes, Joe.”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“I know you did.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
“I want you healthy.”
“I am healthy,” he growled, flopping back down on the mattress. “Fuck.”
I knew that he was teetering on the edge of trouble again, and I refused to let him topple over that cliff twice.
The fact that he couldn’t remember a word of the conversation we had yesterday when I spilled my damn guts to him was horrible.
I couldn’t explain how difficult it was for me to get those words out, and he just didn’t hear me.
Knowing that I was carrying his unborn child, while he was dallying with his health was even more terrifying.
“I’m not doing this again, Joe,” I told him. “I’m not letting you do this again.”
“Letting me,” he spat the words like they were offensive. “You don’t get to let me do shit, Aoif. I do my own thing.”
“Uh-huh, sure thing, asshole,” I mocked, increasing the volume on the television remote. “I flushed your stash, by the way.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “I don’t have a stash.”
“You don’t?” I narrowed my eyes right back at him. “Then whose prescription pills were those in the front pocket of your school bag?”
“You searched my bag?”
“Yep.” I smiled sweetly. “Sure did.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered, rubbing his face with his hand. “Where’s the baggie, Molloy?”
“The baggie is in my rubbish bin. The contents of the baggie are on the way out to sea.”
“You didn’t seriously flush my pills?”
“I seriously did, stud.”
“Jesus Christ. Do you know how much those cost me?” Sitting straight up once again, my boyfriend dropped his head in his hands and bit back a roar. “Fuck, Aoif, I told you I have it under control.”
“And I told you that I’m not letting you do this again.”
“I’m fine.”
“And I’m making sure that you stay fine.”
“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, twisting around to face me. “You do realize that no other lad would take this shit from his girlfriend.”
“What shit exactly?” Tossing the remote down, I sat straight up and faced him. “The part where I try to keep you alive?”
“I’m not dying.”
“You could die—" My voice cracked, and I sucked in a sharp breath, desperately trying to school my features, as I met his stare head on. “I love you.”
“I know.” Emotion flickered in his eyes, and he bowed his head. “I love you back.”
“No. You don’t get it. You are the love of my life,” I bit out, catching his chin and forcing him to look at me. “What I feel for you? How deeply I love you? It’s fucking insane, Joe. So, yeah, I’m going to do the right thing for you every time, whether that pisses you off or not, because I want you here with me. On planet earth. For a long time.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, snatching my hand up in his. “I’m never leaving you, Molloy.”
“See, I know you believe that,” I replied, tone thick with emotion. “But every time you snort a line or pop a pill, you’re playing Russian roulette with your life and my heart.”
HURRICANE MOLLOY
JOEY
The anger emanating from the girl in the driver’s seat assured me that not only had I been given permanent residency in her doghouse, but I’d earned the title of king of fuck ups.
By the time we reached school on Thursday morning, the silent tension building up between us was unbearable.
Both unwilling to budge an inch, I let her sit in her anger, while she let me stew in my guilt.
After her fourth piss-poor attempt at reversing into a narrow parking space, and this time almost taking the bumper off a neighboring car, Molloy released a furious growl. She jacked the handbrake, put the gearstick in neutral, and climbed out, leaving the car in the middle of the line of traffic.