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You are being a useless dick and you have a useless dick.
I know there’s nothing wrong with you.
You’re just trying to get out of taking me to the awards gala at the end of the month.
Why don’t you ever take me to those things?
I never ask you for ANYTHING.
If you don’t start appreciating me, I know plenty of lads who will…
I expelled a heavy breath and quickly read each message.
Yeah, this was getting out of hand.
I could feel the noose tightening around my neck.
I tapped out a quick reply saying, Do whatever you want. I’m not your keeper, before turning my phone off and heading back to the school, stopping at the office.
“Johnny!” Dee, the school secretary, cooed when I stepped through the doorway. “Back already?” she asked, taking a slow appraisal of my body. “Mr. Twomey hasn’t sent for you, honey.”
Our school secretary was a short woman in her late twenties with peroxide-blond hair, a penchant for teenage boys, and a serious weakness for rugby players.
Her blue eyes were lined with way too much black eyeliner and thick mushy mascara that blended well with the mountain of foundation caked on her face and bloodred lips.
She wasn’t an unattractive woman. She had a nice shape and a fantastic ass. But she was a case of mutton dressed as lamb.
Despite her cougar attempts and blatant inappropriateness, I was oddly fond of the woman. She had helped me out on more than one occasion down through the years, signing me out of classes, covering my absenteeism, burying misdemeanors and all types of incriminating shite that would reflect badly on me.
Back in third year, when I came home from training camp, I’d dropped an Ireland jersey with most of the team’s signatures off to her.
It was a last-minute display of appreciation on my part, knowing that she’d gone to a great deal of trouble to get the Board of Education to waiver a compulsory oral junior cert exam I’d missed while away.
I had the jersey in my gear bag and just gave it to her, feeling like I needed to compensate the woman for her efforts. After that, she was my biggest champion, doing countless, often morally questionable favors for me. And I, in turn, snagged her tickets to games whenever I could.
We had a good arrangement.
“I’m here to see you, Dee,” I shot back with a flirty wink. Fighting down the urge to run for the hills from the school cougar, I sauntered over to the counter that separated her office from the rest of reception and grinned. “I was hoping you could help me out with something.”
“I’m always willing to help my favorite all-star,” she purred. “With anything.”
“Appreciate it,” I replied, repressing the urge to shudder when she reached over the counter and stroked her inch-long flaming-red fingernails across my knuckles. “Do you have an envelope?”
“An envelope?” Her drawn-on brows shot up in surprise. “Oh,” she muttered, looking a little forlorn.
Reaching behind the desk, she rummaged around before slapping a plain brown envelope on the counter.
Pulling out my wallet, I snagged two fifty-euro notes and stuffed them inside.
“Do you have a pen?” I asked.
With a little huff, she handed me one.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I mumbled as I quickly scrawled a note on the envelope before placing the pen on the counter.
“Is that all?”
“Actually, no, it’s not.”
