“Wounded girl act?” She shook her head in disgust. “Wow, you really know how to talk to girls don’t you?”
“No, I really fucking don’t,” I tossed back, aggravated. “Because the only girl I talk to is you.”
“Liar,” she spat. “You talk to Danielle.”
“Oh, give it a rest, Molloy.”
“You said she had nice legs, Joey,” she snapped, erupting on me. “Nice legs.” She turned to glare at me. “Ring any bells, asshole?”
“That’s what this is about?” I gaped at her. “You’re mad at me because I used the words nice legs?”
“On another girl.”
“They’re just words.”
“No, they are not just words, Joey.”
“Jesus Christ, Molloy, what the fuck else was I supposed to say to the girl?” I demanded, throwing my hands up. “I’d just sprayed chili all over her legs. I was trying to make it right. What did you want me to say? Nice ankles? Nice kneecaps? Nice fucking calf muscles? What?”
“You don’t say that,” she shouted back at me. “You don’t feed her my line.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“That makes it even worse.”
“How?”
“Because it just does, okay.”
“Well, it honestly meant nothing.”
“Like it meant nothing when you were touching her legs?”
“Don’t,” I warned, shaking my head. “Don’t even go there.”
“Right in front of me, Joey,” she strangled out, voice thick with emotion.
“Right in front of you?” I choked out a humorless laugh. “Am I hearing this right? You have the audacity to sit here, on your high horse, and give me shit for talking to a girl, when you’ve spent every day since first year flaunting that prick in my face?”
“But you haven’t just talked to Danielle, have you, Joey? You’ve been with her!”
“You mean while you’ve been with your boyfriend? So what if I have?”
“Oh my god,” she cried, reaching up to clutch her face with her hands. “You don’t get it. You just don’t fucking get it!”
“Get what?” I roared, losing my cool. “You know what? I don’t know why I’m even listening to this shit.” I shook my head and turned away, furious with myself for letting her get under my skin. “We’re not a couple, Molloy. I’m not your boyfriend. We are not together. Do you hear me? We are nothing.”
“That’s fine, Joe, we’re not together. We’re nothing,” she choked out. “So why don’t you go right ahead and fuck Danielle, with her nice legs and shop-bought bottle blonde hair!”
“What gave you the impression that I haven’t fucked her?”
Molloy’s sharp intake of breath assured me that I had gone too far.
“Listen, I didn’t mean to,” I began to say, but she didn’t stick around to listen.
Instead, she pushed her chair back and stood up, walking silently from the room.
The fact that she didn’t even slam the classroom door behind her let me know that I had, indeed, fucked up in a colossal way.
Dropping my head on my desk, I clutched the back of my neck and groaned. “Fuck.”
AT LEAST THAT
FEBRUARY 1ST 2002
AOIFE
Mr. Nyhan could suspend me for walking out of detention if he wanted to.
Hell, he could threaten me with expulsion, and it wouldn’t matter a damn because there was no way that I was ever willingly walking back into that classroom.
I made it to the carpark before I broke down.
Releasing a pained cry, I slumped down on the concrete footpath and dropped my head in my hands, crying hard and ugly.
I hated him.
I wanted to hate him so much.
I needed to hate him.
You need to stop loving him first…
“Aoife,” a familiar voice said, and I stiffened.
No, no, no, not now…
“Go away.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I said go away!”
Doing the complete opposite of what I wanted, Paul sank down on the footpath beside me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Sniffling, I reached up to wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “I’m fine.”
“Did he hurt you earlier?”
“No.” I sniffled again. “I hurt myself.”
“How?”
I gave my heart to the wrong person. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It clearly does.”
“Just leave it alone, okay?”
“Talk to me, Aoife.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“You don’t want to hear this, Paul.”
“Try me.”
“I like him, okay!” I heard myself choke out. “I like him.”
I felt Paul stiffen beside me. “Joey.”
Exhaling a ragged breath, I nodded once and then dropped my head in my hands, feeling a flurry of guilt and relief. “I’m really sorry.”
“Since when?”
Since day one. “I don’t know.”
“Were you with him?” he asked quietly.
I shook my head. “No.”
He eyed me uncertainly. “No?”
“No,” I confirmed, swallowing deeply. “No.”
He stared at me for a long moment before releasing a shaky breath. “At least that.”
“Yeah,” I croaked out. At least that.
“Do you still care about me?”
“Yes,” I replied honestly.
“Do you care about him?”
I didn’t answer his question.
I couldn’t.
I wasn’t that cruel.
“Do you like him more than you like me?”
“It’s different.”
“So, what are you telling me, Aoif?” His eyes searched mine and I was incredibly impressed with how calm he was remaining. It actually made this harder because he was being the sweet guy he was when we first met, which made me feel like the biggest dick in Ballylaggin. “Are you saying that you want to be with him?”
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s not going to happen.”
“I don’t understand.” His brows furrowed. “If you haven’t been with him and don’t plan on being with him then why?”
“I just needed to tell you, okay?” I wiped my cheek and exhaled shakily. “I needed to get it off my chest.”
Paul was quiet for a very long time before speaking again. “I need to tell you something.”
“Is it going to hurt?”
“It could.”
“As bad as what I just told you hurt?”
“Maybe a bit worse.”
Oh god. “Is it about those rumors?”
“Sort of.”
Exhaling a shaky breath, I nodded for him to continue.
“I, ah…” Exhaling a pained breath, he looked down at his feet and said, “I slept with someone.”
Well crap.
“You lost your virginity?” That hurt worse than I had expected it to. “To who?”
“A girl from Tommen.”
“So it was true.” My breath caught in my chest, and I forced myself to remain calm and show him the same decency that he had shown me. “What’s her name?”