“I am?” He grinned wolfishly. “Which one?”
“The teacups,” she snorted.
“Oh, pack it in, the pair of you,” I snapped, annoyed with the entire situation. “You’re acting like he’s this terrible person when he’s not. He’s just…he was defending his sister who had been terrorized.”
“Yeah, Aoif, but Mike didn’t do it,” Casey offered up. “He was just an innocent bystander.”
“Oh, you mean the same way his sister was innocent. That didn’t stop Ciara Maloney from cutting the poor girl’s hair off, now, did it?”
“Get a grip, Aoife,” Paul scoffed. “There’s a big difference in giving someone a haircut and beating seven kinds of shit out of a person.”
“Giving someone a haircut?” I balked. “Did I just hear that right? Listen, I’m not condoning what Joey did to Mike, because that was outright insanity. But I’m telling you right now that if anyone tried to hack my hair off with a pair of rusty scissors, then I would take leave of my senses.”
“True,” Casey reluctantly agreed. “I would lose my shit.”
“Exactly,” I pressed. “It would be the very last thing they did with scissors, that’s for sure. And that’s his baby sister that happened to,” I added. “You’ve seen Shannon Lynch walking through the halls between classes; she like a mouse. She couldn’t defend herself if she tried.”
“So, because his sister can’t defend herself, that gives him the right to use his fists to fight her battles?” Paul arched a brow, clearly unimpressed that I had a different opinion on the matter. “He’s nothing but a thug. A hot-headed bully. One you should steer clear of.”
“Care to say that to his face?” I heard myself toss back heatedly.
“No,” Paul drawled in a sarcastic tone. “Because he would try to rearrange my face with his fists – like he already tried to do on several occasions, Aoife. Which is exactly the point I’m trying to make about the prick.” He shook his head and muttered, “To be honest, I don’t know how your father puts up with him at the garage. Tony must be a god honest saint to have stuck it out so long with that waste of space.”
“He’s a good worker,” I was quick to point out. “Dad’s always praising how dependable and punctual and hardworking Joey is, so maybe you don’t know as much about him as you think you do.”
“What’s this?’ Paul growled. “The I-heart-Joey-Lynch club?”
“Well, it sure beats the complain-about-him-until-you’ve-bored-everyone-to-tears club that you’re the founding member of,” I shot back, unwilling to back down.
“Why are you always defending him?” he demanded, tone laced with annoyance.
“Because you’re always talking shit about him,” I snapped back. “He’s my friend, Paul. Deal with it.”
“Christ.” Paul narrowed his eyes. “If you still like the guy so much then what are you doing with me?”
“Good question,” I snapped. “I’ve been asking myself that exact question a lot these days.”
Paul reeled back like I’d struck him. “Are you serious?”
“Whoa, guys, everyone take a chill pill,” Casey interjected. “Let’s not have a fight over this.”
“Who’s fighting?” I snapped, very much in fighting form.
“Whatever,” Paul grumbled. “That prick doesn’t deserve this much airtime. The sooner he’s expelled and out of this school, the better for all of us.”
“It’s so easy for you all to sit there and judge him,” Podge erupted, as he shoved his chair back and pushed out of his desk. “When not one of you knows what that lad has to deal with. You don’t have the slightest inkling.”
“We all have shit to deal with, Podge,” Paul argued, unapologetically. “That doesn’t give any of us the right to walk around like a ticking time-bomb, and it doesn’t give him the right to do it, either. He doesn’t get a free pass to kick someone’s head in every time he loses his temper.”
“You’ve just proven my point exactly,” Podge said. “You don’t have a clue.” He turned his disappointed gaze on me. “I thought you, of all people, would know better than to judge him.”
“What?” I gaped at him. “Me of all people?”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know, Aoife.”
“I don’t,” I replied in confusion. “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit,” Podge snapped. “You act like his friend, but I guess that’s all it is, an act, because the minute the chips are down, you talk shit about him with the rest of them.”
“Hey, back off,” Casey warned, quickly coming to my defense. “Don’t start on her just because your friend fucked-up. She’s not his cheerleader.”
“You know what,” Podge growled, shaking his head. “I don’t have time for this shit.” Having said that, he shouldered both his and Joey’s school bags onto his back and stormed out of the classroom.
Feeling like I had been sucker punched in the gut, I quickly scooped up my things and hurried after him, ignoring protests from Paul, Casey, and the poor substitute teacher attempting to rein in the class.
“Podge, wait,” I call after my redheaded classmate as he stalked off in the direction of the school exit. “Wait a minute, will you?”
“I’m not in the form, Aoife,” was all he replied. Not turning around he pushed the glass doors open and walked outside into the latest downpour of January rain. “I’m really not.”
“What did you mean back there?” I asked, falling into step alongside him, as he hurried away from the school. “About the crap Joey has to deal with?” I blew out a frustrated breath. “What crap?”
“Like you haven’t figured out by now,” Podge grumbled. “You’re not blind, Aoife, and you’re far from stupid, either.”
“Humor me,” I pleaded. “Come on, Podge, tell me what you meant.”
“You’ve seen the condition he comes into school in,” he snapped, losing his cool. “Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed the bruises, Aoife. Not when they’re so fucking obvious that he can’t hide them most of the time. Come on, girl, it doesn’t take a genius to know that he’s getting the stuffing knocked out of him when he’s not at school.”
And there it was.
It was something I definitely hadn’t expected him to say, but in a weird, unsettling way, I also sort of had.
My mind wandered back to the scars I knew he bore beneath his clothes, and further back again, to an altercation I witnessed a couple of years back where, after losing the county final to the neighboring town, Joey had come to blows with who I presumed was his father at the back of GAA Pavilion carpark.
At the time, I’d put it down to his usual hot-headedness and the fact that Ballylaggin had been hammered in the game.
But now, recalling the way the bigger man had pushed and shoved at him before clamping a hand on the back of his neck and physically forcing Joey into the back of a car, it was becoming a lot clearer.