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“Iwould, actually,” he replied. “I’m in his year, too, remember. I know what goes on just as well as you do.”
“Yeah, in the swot class,” I snorted. “Andsureyou do, Kev. You’re right in there with the big guns, aren’t ya? Mister popularity himself.”
“You think your looks and popularity are going to get you far in life?” he laughed. “You’re so stupid that it’s pitiful.”
“Look at you, getting all riled up and catty.” I grinned. “No need to pity me, dear brother, because I’m doing just fine for myself.”
“No, Aoife,I’mdoing fine.I’mthe one going places. The only way you’re getting out of this council estate is if you marry up,” he sneered. “Because you sure as shit won’t make it on your own. So, you might want to hold onto Paul Rice, because he’s looking like your best shot.”
“Oh, whatever, you dick.”
“It’s the truth.“
“Keep talking shit to me and I just might have to take my top off and give those gamer buddies of yours a real special show.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.” Narrowing my eyes right back at him, I reached for the string behind my neck and said, “I’m told I have perky nipples.”
“You’re such a bitch,” he spat before storming back to the house.
“Takes one to know one, you little pussy,” I called after him and then sighed in contentment, thrilled to have gotten the better of him. “Good one, huh?” I cooed, tickling Spud on his belly. “Yeah, I know you think he’s a dope, too. I don’t need a boy, do I? No, I don’t. I’ll make my own way in life.”
“Aoife Christina Molloy!” my mother called out a few minutes later. Pushing the kitchen window open, she leaned out and shook a wooden spoon at me. “Get into the house and cover yourself up before I come out there and drag you inside.”
“Are you serious?” I growled, giving Spud one final belly rub, before reluctantly climbing to my feet. “Hetoldon me?”
“There are teenage boys in this house, Aoife,” Mam shot back. “And you’re sprawled out in the garden like Pamela fecking Anderson herself. Do you want to be the cause of giving them a turn?”
“I know how old they are, Mam. Most of them are in my year at school.” I laughed. “And you’re afraid I’ll give them a turn? More like a horn —“
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Mam warned, still waving around the wooden spoon like a demented housewife.
“Yeah, well, Dad told me to stay out of his way,” I shot back. “So, guess what I’m doing?”
“Enough of the cheek, young lady. Inside right now, or you’re grounded for the rest of the month. And that also includes having friends over. No phone, either. And no—”
“Jesus, fine,” I huffed, stalking to the back door. “Relax, would you. It’s not that serious.”
“Thank you,” Mam said when I stomped into the kitchen. “Now, go upstairs and throw on some clothes, like a good girl, before your brother has a conniption fit.”
“Is it okay if I get a drink before I’m exiled from the family home for possessing a pair of boobs?” I asked sulkily, as I reached into the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice. “Or is rehydrating a crime now, too?”
“Drama queen.” Rolling her eyes, Mam smirked and turned back to her ironing. “Pour me a glass, too.”
Grabbing two glasses out of the press, I poured a glass of orange juice and quickly gulped it down before refilling my glass and pouring one for Mam.
“Thanks, love.”
“You’re not welcome,” I teased, setting a glass down on the counter beside her.
“Trish, we’ve the bathroom just about done, love. I’m off to the dump with that old bath before they close,” my father called from the front hall. “I won’t be long.”
“I’ll see ya, Trish. Thanks for the sandwich.”
“You’re welcome, Joey, love.”
Resisting the urge to rush out into the hallway and take one last look at Joey Lynch before he left with my dad, I held firm, and took another sip of orange juice instead.
