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“Now, Aoife.”
“Ah, miss, don’t be a cock block,” Alec chimed in, encouraged by the class full of boys egging him on. “Did ya see the big bull head on Lynchy? You only have one class with him, the rest of us will be in the firing line all day. Let her go and sort him out. He’ll be in much better form for the rest of the day.”
“You can get out of my classroom,” Miss Lane ordered, glowering at Alec. “Straight to the office to collect a red book of your own.”
Deciding this was my perfect opportunity to escape, I made a dash for the door.
Ignoring the laughter coming from behind me, not to mention our year head’s voice as she shouted after me, or Alec subsequently calling out, “You’re welcome,” I hurried out of the classroom, leaving my bag behind and trusting that Casey would pack up for me at the end of class.
My original plan was to head for the back of the P.E. hall, knowing that was one of Joey’s chosen spots to frequent, and if that failed, then I would try the school sheds, but my plan quickly flew out the window when I reached the front entrance of the school and my eyes locked on none other than Marie Lynch coming out of the principal’s office.
“Aoife.” The minute she noticed me, she moved in my direction, making a beeline for the exit that I was desperately trying to get to. “Please, can I speak to you?”
My feet reluctantly faltered before coming to an abrupt stop, while my head told me to keep going. “What are you doing here?”
“I had a meeting with the principal,” she said when she’d closed the space between us, meeting me at the door. “I know that I’m the last person you want to speak to right now.”
“The second last.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re the second last person I want to speak to.”
She had the good grace to wince. “Yes, well, would you mind walking with me for a moment so I can talk to you?” she asked, gesturing to the entryway’s double doors. “Please. It’s important.”
Deciding that Joey’s mother was someone that I couldn’t avoid forever, I nodded stiffly and followed her outside, falling stonily into step beside her.
“How have you been?”
“Fine,” I replied, tone stiff.
“Are you sure?”
“What did you want to talk about, Marie?”
When she realized that she wasn’t getting anywhere with that line of questioning, she released a heavy sigh and rubbed her forehead with her small hand. “I’m worried about Joey.”
Yeah, me too. “Why?”
“I think he’s falling into bad patterns again.”
“Yeah.” Sighing heavily, I wrapped my arms around myself as we walked, ignoring the torrential March downpour. “I’ve noticed.”
“So, he is here?” Relief flooded her eyes. “He came to school?”
“He was here,” I corrected flatly. “He left class pretty much as soon as he arrived.”
“Oh god, that’s what I was afraid of,” she choked out. “I don’t know what to do with him, Aoife. I really don’t.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to help.”
“No offense, but it’s kind of impossible for you to help him when you’re the source of his pain.”
She flinched from my words, but didn’t argue. Because she knew just as well as I did that she had a huge role to play in her son derailing.
Again.
“I deserve that.”
“It’s not about what you deserve, Marie,” I bit out. “It’s about the truth.”
