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“Yeah, it’s me, your mam left the house a while ago.”
Springing up, I threw the covers off to find Joey sitting on the chair next to my window, with his hood up and his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie – his usual stance.
I couldn’t hide the relief that expelled from my lungs in a shaky breath.
“Why are you still doing here?” I couldn’t hide the anger in my voice, or the hurt. “I gave you a place to sleep it off. No need to linger.”
He didn’t blanch at my words.
Instead, he continued to stare back at me. “I was supposed to meet you after work last night. I was supposed to walk you home, and I didn’t show up. I remember now.”
“Well, good for you.” I gestured to the window and glared. “See ya.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re not sorry.” I stared hard back at him. “You never say sorry, because you’re never sorry, remember?”
His green eyes remained locked on mine, unblinking. “I am this morning.”
“Well, this morning I’m too mad to accept it,” I countered, swallowing down a surge of emotion. “When you didn’t show up last night, or answer your phone, I thought you were hurt, or worse.” My voice cracked and I quickly steadied myself before adding, “But you weren’t hurt or worse. You just had a better offer.”
He swallowed the venom in my words, and didn’t even try to deny it, or fight with me.
I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.
When he made no move to leave, I shook my head, feeling at a loss.
“I know that you’re new to this,“ I waved a finger between us, “whatever you want to call what we’re doing, but this is the part where you either give me some bullshit explanation for why getting high was more important than sending me a goddamn text, or it’s the part where you leave.”
He didn’t budge.
He didn’t open his mouth to defend his actions, either.
“You’re absolutely right, Molloy.” With slow, stiff movements, I watched as Joey slowly dragged himself to his feet. “I should go,” was all he replied, and then shook his head. “I will go.”
“What?” Throwing off the covers, I sprang out of my bed and stalked towards him. “I wasn’t serious, asshole! I was being dramatic. You’re not going anywhere until we talk about what happened.”
“I’m really not in the mood to talk about it.”
“Well, I wasn’t in the mood to be woken up by your big, drugged-up ass jumping through my window, but here we are.” Planting my hands on my hips, I glowered up at him. “Well?”
“Well, what?” he said flatly, keeping his head down. “I think it’s pretty clear that I fucked up.”
Giving me his back, he moved for my window.
“Oh hell no.“ Lunging towards him, I quickly stepped in front of window and blocked off his escape route. “You don’t get to do that,” I warned. “You don’t get to walk out on me without an explanation for last night.”
“I got high!” he snapped. “Is that what you want to hear? Huh? I went out last night and I lost my fucking mind in the bottom of a bottle of vodka and a shit ton of pills.”
“Why?” I strangled out, feeling his words pierce through me like bullets.
“Why?” he hissed. “Why?Because that’s what I do, Molloy!” he snapped. “That’s fucking why. “
“Joey…”
“I know I messed up, okay? I know I let you down,” he spat. “But this is me, okay?” Knocking his hood down when he roughly dragged both hands through his blond hair, he hissed, “I am who I am, Molloy, and who I am isnotgood for you!”
That's when I saw it.
