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“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 saythat,” she shouted back at me. “You don’t feed hermyline.”
“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 ofyou?” 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 fortalkingto a girl, when you’ve spent every day since first year flaunting that prick in my face?”
“But you haven’t justtalkedto Danielle, have you, Joey? You’ve been with her!”
“You mean while you’ve been with yourboyfriend? 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 fuckinggetit!”
“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 arenottogether. Do you hear me? We arenothing.”
“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 Ihaven’tfucked 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 suspendme 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.
