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“Tell me about it, lad,” Alec agreed. “I swear I’ve had dreams about her legs.”
“The length of them.”
“And that skirt.”
Swallowing down a surge of bitterness, I forced myself to block out their voices, because if I didn’t, there was a very good chance I would lose my shit.
For once, luck was on my side.
“Joseph Lynch,” Mrs. Falvey, our year head, announced when she walked into the classroom a beat later. “You’re wanted in the office.” She clicked her tongue, disapproval etched on her face. “And bring your red book with you.”
“What did you do this time?” Mike whispered, nosey as usual.
“Fuck if I know,” I muttered, quickly rising to my feet.
Only delighted to be getting away from the conversation unfolding around me, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door.
“I am so disappointed in you,” Mrs. Falvey said when I passed her desk. “I thought we had gotten a handle on your behavioral issues last year. And what with it being a new term and all, I was willing to give you a clean slate, but then, four weeks into term, and I come to find that you’ve been fighting again.”
“Withwho?” I asked, tone laced with confusion, as I scratched the back of my head.
“Marcus Shorten.”
“Marcuswho?”
“He’s from Kilcock community college,” she bit out. “Ring any bells?’
I stared blankly.
“Youbrokehis finger, Joey,” she said with a frustrated sigh. “With your hurley.On purpose.”
“When?”
“Last Friday,” she hissed. “His mother phoned the school this morning. As you can imagine, she was very upset about the matter. She wants to take it to the board.”
“Oh yeah,” I mused, vaguely recalling the incident on the pitch last Friday when our schools met in a league game. “His mother actually phoned the school?”
“Yes, she did. She was very upset.”
“That wasn’t a fight,” I scoffed.
What a sap; telling his mammy on me.
The teacher’s eyes narrowed. “And what would you call it?”
Fucker nearly took my knuckles off with the steel band on the bas of his hurley. I was only returning the favor. “A minor disagreement.”
“Well, that minor disagreement has earned you your first suspension of the school year,” she snapped. “Congratulations.” Clapping her hands together mockingly, she asked, “Is there anything you’d like to say for yourself?”
“Yeah. We won the game last Friday,” I replied with a shrug. “And I was man of the match.”
SUSPENSIONS AND STILETTOS
OCTOBER 18TH 2001
AOIFE
“Fifty-euro, Dad,”I tried to plead my case on Thursday evening, after school. “It’s for a good cause.”
