Home > Books > Saving 6 (Boys of Tommen, #3)(8)

Saving 6 (Boys of Tommen, #3)(8)

Author:Chloe Walsh

I shrugged, not entirely disagreeing with her statement.

“You don’t want to be here with me right now. It’s obvious. I’m the very last person you want to walk home, so why bother?”

“Your father asked me to.”

“Well, I’m asking you not to.”

“You don’t pay my wages.”

“Ugh.” She blew out another frustrated breath. “You are so annoying.”

“And you are such a fucking princess,” I shot back, unapologetically. “Pissing and moaning because your father cares enough about you to want to make sure you get home safe.” I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I can see that you’re having a real hard day, Molloy.”

Her feet came to a grinding halt and she swung back to face me. “Why don’t you like me?”

“Why does it matter to you?”

My words stumped her and she shook her head again. “We’re in the same class – have been for almost a year now, and still, you act like I don’t exist. I’m a nice person, okay. I have never said a bad word to you, but you avoid me like the plague. You’re never nice to me at school, and I don’t get it.” She blew out a heavy breath. “What changed?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” she snapped. “You were into me on that first day, and then suddenly you weren’t. So, what changed?”

My life fell apart and I realized you were my boss’s daughter.

“Nothing.”

“You are such a liar!” she argued, unwilling to back the hell down like I needed her to. “We hit it off and you know we did.”

“It’s not a crime for a fella to change his mind, Molloy,” I deadpanned. “Take it on the chin and leave it alone, will ya?”

“Maybe I could if you didn’t purposefully avoid me.”

“I don’t avoid you.”

“You constantly avoid me,” she corrected. “You only speak to me when you have to – and that’s usually only when my father’s around to mock and tease me. You talk to all of the other girls in our class, Joey. All of them. But not me. Never me.”

Be glad, I thought to myself.

“You have a fella,” I reminded her, the thought souring my mind. “Why would you want me to talk to you?”

“How about to be nice?”

“I’m not nice.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Say something nice to me.”

“Molloy.”

“Come on,” she demanded. “Do it. I dare you.”

“You have nice legs,” I offered flatly. “There, happy now?”

“You can be nice to the other girls in our class, but not me,” she argued.

“Molloy…”

“I’ve seen you be nice to Danielle Long, and Rebecca Falvey – and a ton of other girls from our year.”

I gave her a pointed look that said all I needed to say about that.

“You were with all of them?” she demanded and then groaned. “That’s disgusting.”

“No more disgusting than you letting Paul Rice put his hands in your knickers last week.”

Her face flushed bright pink. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” With a concoction of fucked-up feelings swelling up inside of me, I couldn’t help but taunt her. “Lace pink thong, from what I hear. How long have you been going out with him? A week now? He sure found a way into your knickers quickly enough.”

“He told you?”

“He told everyone, Molloy.”

“Who?” Her face fell and I felt like a piece of shit. “Who did he tell?”

The look of sadness in her eyes made me want to hit the prick all over again.

It had been worth the suspension.

Hearing Ricey tell half of the lads in our PE class about how Tony’s daughter was so tight he could barely get a finger inside her had caused me to flip the fuck out on him in the changing rooms.

I did it for Tony because he wasn’t there to do it himself.

At least, that’s what I continued to tell myself.

“He’s a prick, Molloy,” I bit out. “Prick’s talk, so word of warning; never do anything with one that you don’t want his entire circle of friends knowing about.”

“You don’t.”

“I don’t want?”

“Talk.”

“That’s because I’m not a prick. I’m an asshole, remember?” Stepping around her, I crossed the street towards her house, not looking back to see if she was following. I could tell she was by the sound of her high heels clicking on the ground.

“So, come on, since you’re so forthcoming tonight, tell me why you don’t like me anymore?”

“That’s a desperate question to ask a fella.”

“Don’t you mean an asshole? And you know I don’t mean it like that.”

“It’s still desperate.”

“Answer me anyway.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because? Come on, Joey. Please.”

“We’re not compatible,” I said, blowing out a frustrated breath.

“To have a conversation together?”

“To have anything together.”

“So, what you’re basically saying is that you think you’re too good to be my friend?” She planted her hands on her hips. “To hang out or be seen with me?”

The opposite.

“You asked me a question,” I told her, opening her front gate and gestured for her to go inside. “I answered you. Take it whatever way you like.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“I don’t care,” I replied, hand on the gate. “Now, I walked you home, safe and sound, with plenty of time to get your precious homework done. You’re welcome.”

She made no move to go inside, choosing to stand under the street lamp and glare at me, while I continued to hold the gate open for her like a tool.

“It’s because of my dad, isn’t it?” she pressed, ponytail blowing in the night breeze. “Is that why you changed your mind? Why you don’t even want to be friends with me? Did he say something?”

“Go inside, Molloy.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Joey.”

“Fine. Suit yourself.” Shaking my head, I let go of the gate, and turned to walk away. “What do I care?”

“You know what? I think you do care,” she called after me. “In fact, I think you do like me. You like me and that’s why you act how you do. That’s why you riled my father up about Paul tonight. I’m right, aren’t it? You like me.”

Of course I fucking liked her.

She was the first thing my eyes had landed on when I walked through the entrance of Ballylaggin Community School last September, and the only face I consistently sought out since.

“…She’s a good girl is our Aoife,” Tony said, dark eyes watching me warily. His agitation had been slowly rising since I arrived at work from my first day at secondary school and mentioned that his daughter and I had been assigned to the same class. “She’s a bit on the wild side, but what young one isn’t these days. She’s not backwards in coming forwards, either, but she’s a good girl at heart. And innocent, too …”

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