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“Yes you!”
“How am I the asshole?”
“Because you hurt my feelings.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did, Joey!”
“Fine,” he growled. “I’m an asshole. Now let’s go.”
I shook my head.
“Molloy.”
“I amnota mannequin!”
“Fine.” Joey shook his head. “I take it back. You’re not a mannequin.”
“That was really mean.”
He stared at me for a long time before finally blowing out a breath. “Yeah, I know.”
“Apologize.”
“For what?”
“For calling me a mannequin.”
“Ijustsaid you’re not a mannequin.”
“That wasn’t an apology.”
“Yeah, it was.”
I gaped at him. “No, it wasn’t, Joey.”
“How was that not an apology?”
“Because it didn’t contain the wordsorry, asshole.”
Looking thoroughly confused – and thoroughly fed up – my classmate released a furious growl. “Let’s just walk, okay? Just move your legs, Molloy.Please.”
Relenting because he used the word ‘please’, I closed the space between us, and fell into step beside him once more. “Haven’t you ever apologized to someone?” I asked, morbidly curious now.
“I just did.”
“Oh my god.” I studied his side profile. “You haven’t.”
With a deep frown etched on his face, Joey concentrated on the road ahead of us, but didn’t respond.
We walked in silence for the rest of the way, and it wasn’t until we turned the corner of my street that I heard him mutter the words, “I’m sorry.”
“Wow.” My heart fluttered around in my chest. “Is that your first time saying that word to anyone?”
He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “Probably.”
“Well, thanks,” I replied, nudging him with my shoulder when we reached my gate. “I forgive you.”
