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“I’m not sweet.”
“And gentlemanly.”
“I’m not that, either – and let go of my hands.”
Cackling evilly to herself, Molloy turned the handle of the front door and pushed it inwards. “You coming in?”
Was she mental?
“No, Molloy,” I deadpanned. “I’m not coming in.”
“You sure?” Leaning against the door, she waggled her brows and said, “There’s a full box of coco pops in the kitchen with my name on, that I’m willing to share with you.”
“I’m not coming…“ my words broke off when my brain registered what she had said. “Coco pops?”
She nodded. “The good kind.”
Well shit.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I heard myself ask, “Is there milk in the fridge?”
“Always.”
My stomach rumbled loudly at the concept of getting fed tonight because, let’s face it, the odds of finding anything in the kitchen on a Monday night at my house weren’t in my favor.
“This doesn’t mean we’re friends,” I warned, as I took an uncertain step inside her front hall. “This changes nothing, Molloy.”
HIT ME WITH THOSE GREEN EYES
FEBRUARY 14TH 2000
AOIFE
Okay,so inviting a boy whowasn’tmy recently acquired boyfriend into my house on Valentine’s night might not have been my brightest idea, but in my defense, sharing a box of coco pops with Joey Lynch wasn’t exactly the crime of the century.
It was a harmless, platonic, random act of kindness/show of gratitude to the boy who had walked me home in the dark.
See, I could be chivalrous, too.
“Pull up a chair,” I instructed, as I strode into the kitchen ahead of him. “I’ll grab the bowls.”
Looking wary and mistrustful, my classmate shuffled towards the kitchen table and slowly pulled out a chair. “I mean it, Molloy. This doesn’t mean we’re friends.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I drawled, humored by his pathetic attempt to shield himself from my irresistible charm. “Whatever you say, Joey Lynch.”
Setting to work, I grabbed bowls, spoons, milk from the fridge, and a box of cereal from the cupboard before setting them down on the table in front of him. “Dig in.”
He didn’t move an inch.
“Tea?” I offered then.
Joey looked at me like I had grown an extra head. “Tea?”
“Tea,” I confirmed, fighting back at smile at his discomfort. “It’s something us regular folk drink from time to time.”
“I know what tea is,” he muttered, shaking his head. “And no, I’m, uh, I’m not thirsty.”
Realizing that he had no intention of touching anything on the table until I joined him, even though he hadn’t stopped eyeing the cereal box since I placed it in front of him, I set the kettle down and moved for the table, taking the seat opposite his.
