FEBRUARY 1ST 2002
AOIFE
“OH, MY JESUS, THAT’S DISGUSTING.” Trying not to gag, I watched in horror as my home economics partner dislocated his wrist in such a way that the back of his fingers touched his wrist. “What the hell is wrong with your hand?”
Chuckling softly, Joey snapped his wrist back into place with a loud popping noise that caused me to gag.
“Blarghhh!” I grabbed his shoulder and tried not to hurl. “Blarghhh.”
“What’s that, Molloy?” he taunted, right before popping his wrist out of joint again with a loud bone crunching crack. “You want me to go it again?”
“Stop, asshole,” I wailed loudly. “Stop, I – Blarghhh!”
“Aoife! Joseph!” Mrs. Adams barked from where she was tasting a dire looking Chile Con Carne in the kitchen station opposite ours, while a frazzled looking Podge hovered over her shoulder, waiting for the ultimate verdict. “That’s not the sound of food tasting that I’m hearing.”
“Cop on, lads,” Dricko snapped, as he stood next to Podge, looking just as flustered as his partner, while they studied their bowl of slop. “She’s scoring our dish. This is the practice run for the junior cert.”
“Your dish is shit. I wouldn’t serve it to my dog, zero stars for presentation and an F for effort,” Alec chimed in, swinging the string dangling off the end of his pink, frilly apron. “And no, Miss, that’s the sound of choking that you’re hearing from sexy legs over there. So, Lynchy definitely fed something back her throat to make her gag like that—“
“Choke on this, asshole,” Joey chuckled, flinging a soup ladle overflowing with our own batch of Chile Con Carne across the classroom at his friend.
Chopped peppers and mince flew everywhere, as red chili stained the walls and floor.
“Joseph Lynch, get your backside over here right this minute and clean up your mess!” Mrs. Adams shouted, stalking across the room to confiscate the rogue ladle. “Right this instant, young man. Don’t you ever again throw your utensils at other students in my classroom. And, for the love of God, stop making that poor girl gag, will you? It’s not very gentlemanly.”
“Waaahhhh!” Alec screamed, inconsolable now, as he threw himself on top of a less than impressed looking Paul, and howled laughing.
My eyes locked on Paul, and I gave him a hard look, daring him to open his mouth and give me crap.
Instead, he swallowed down his disapproval and offered me a half-hearted smile.
I nodded my approval.
After our latest bust up, I had laid it all on the table for him, letting him know in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t going to be pushed around anymore. That I had a friendship with Joey and if he couldn’t accept that then he needed to let me go. I also made it perfectly clear that I had no intention of holding him back if he wanted to pursue other girls, nor would I hold it against him. All he had to do was let me off the proverbial ride first.
Surprisingly, Paul had agreed to my terms and had mostly followed my rules since. The rumors had quietened down, right along with his controlling tendencies, and he wasn’t losing his mind every time I spoke to a boy.
It was progress.
I turned my attention back to my classmate, who had narrowly avoided another trip to the lion’s den.
The only reason Joey wasn’t being sent to the office by our elderly teacher was because he was her best student by a country mile.
Looking ridiculously adorable in his stripy apron, with his cap slung backwards, Joey skulked over to where our teacher was standing and took the dishcloth from her outstretched hand.
“Good boy,” the old woman said in an approving tone when my partner got down on his hands and knees and mopped up the mess.
If anyone in our class had a hope of taking home an A in their Home Economics exam in the Junior Cert then it was the brooding boy beside me, who had returned to the sink in our little station to rinse out a chili-stained dishcloth.
Knowing it was a terrible idea, I looked to the top of the classroom, to where Danielle was partnered up with Mack. Yep; there she was, ogling the strip of golden skin on display, as Joey stretched his arm up to wipe chili off the classroom wall.
Beyond frustrated, I quickly snatched up a spoon and busied myself with stirring our pot of chili, all the while deciding that it was a good thing Mrs. Adams had confiscated our soup ladle. Otherwise I might be inclined to fling another batch at Danielle’s bleached blonde head.
Ugh.
The sound of laughter filled my ears then and I regrettably turned just in time to see my so-called partner wiping a smidge of chili off her bare leg.
“Nice aim, Joey,” Danielle laughed, holding onto his shoulders for balance, as he crouched in front of her and cleaned her fucking leg.
“Nice legs.”
Oh no he did not!
He did.
He fucking did!
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to throw up.
The jealousy that rose up inside of me was so intense that I could physically feel my body temperature rising.
As a matter of fact, if someone was to take my temperature right that second, it wouldn’t have surprised me to discover that I was spiking a fever.
Keep the head, I mentally instructed myself. Do not pick up this pot of Chili and throw it at them. Don’t do it, Aoife. You are too much of a princess for prison. Think of your nails. Just keep stirring.
“So,” the flirtatious bastard himself said when he rejoined me at our station. “What’s your party trick?”
Deciding it was safer to remain quiet than to explode in front of everyone, I refocused on the pot of chili con carne that I had been attempting to stir, and forced out a clipped, “Hm?”
“Your party trick,” Joey repeated, coming to stand beside me. “And don’t say puking on demand, because I will go out in sympathy with you.”
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I strived for calm and managed to strangle out a blasé, “I don’t have one.”
Reaching around me, he grabbed the salt and sprinkled a pinch into the pot. “I don’t believe that for a second.” His chest brushed against my back as he spoke and the smell of grass, and lynx, flooded my senses. He always smelled so good. It was so annoying. “A girl like you always has a trick up her sleeve.”
“A girl like me?” I deadpanned, trying to keep my freshly manicured nails away from the red staining goo, while also trying to keep my emotions in check.
“Stop.” Stilling my wrist with one hand, Joey took the teaspoon I was holding with the other and replaced it with a longer handled wooden spoon instead. “Use this.”
I narrowed my eyes and glared at the wooden spoon in my hand. “Why?”
“Because you might actually stir something with it.”
“Asshole,” I grumbled, shoving him with my hip.
He laughed under his breath. “What’s with the mood, Molloy?”
“I’m not in a mood.”
“Says the girl with a face like thunder.” He nudged my shoulder with his. “You were all shits and giggles a minute ago.”
“I am not in a mood.”
“Fine.” Holding his hands up, he shook his head and moved to the sink. “Suit yourself.”
“I will.”
“You do that.”
“That’s what I’m going to do.”
“Good.”
“Asshole.”
“Crank.”
“Prick.”
“Witch.”
“Shut up,” I spat, furious. “I mean it. Don’t say another word to me.”
“Fine,” he shot back and then sprinkled me with a handful of dirty dishwater. “Don’t say another word to me, either.”
“My hair!” I screamed, abandoning the chili to pat myself down. “Do you have any idea how long it takes me to wash and blow-dry this?”
“My hair,” he mimicked in a high-pitched tone. “Relax. It’s water. You’ll survive.”
Beyond livid, I could see the repercussions of my actions playing out in front of me before it even happened and decided that a few days in detention was well worth taking this asshole down a peg or two.
Deciding against scalding him with chili, I walked over to the sink and reached around Joey to retrieve the bottle of green washing up liquid.
Without a word, I retrieved my stool, set it down behind him, and quietly climbed on top of it.
Reveling in the drama I was about to inflict, I unscrewed the cap, ripped his cap off, held the bottle over his head, and dumped the contents of the bottle on top of him.
The minute the green slime plopped onto Joey’s head; his entire frame stiffened.
“You’re fucking dead,” he growled, slowly turning around as green slime dripped down his hair, face, and shoulders.
“Bring it on, bitch,” I growled, tapping the bottom of the bottle to make sure that every ounce of liquid drained out.
“Aoife!” Mrs. Adams screeched. “What in the name of—“
“Put me down!” I screamed, hands and legs flailing wildly, when Joey threw me over his shoulder, and turned back to the sink. “Don’t you dare – ahhhh!”
“Paul, go and fetch Mr. Nyhan immediately!”
“But she’s—“
“Now, Paul. Hurry.”
“You want to throw down?” Depositing me, ass first, into the sink full of dirty water, Joey reached up and smeared his hands with washing up liquid from his own hair before coating my poor hair snot green. “Then let’s go, Molloy.”
Cheers and laughter erupted around us, but I was too furious to take into account anything other than my thirst for revenge.
“Joey,” I seethed, teeth chattering, as I tried and failed to heave myself out of the sink. “You are so dead.”
“I’m right here,” he taunted, narrowly dodging my nails when I tried to scratch at his chest. “Come and get me, witch.”
“Stop it, the pair of you, right this instant!”
“I swear to all that’s holy, when I get out of this sink, I am going to inflict the world of pain on you, Joey Lynch.”
“Aoife Molloy!”
“Sounds like you need to cool down, Molloy,” he shot back, before reaching for the cold tap and turning it on full blast, soaking whatever parts of my body that had previously been spared from his assault. “Better?”
“Joseph Lynch!”
“Oh my god, help me, you bastard!” I screamed, with my ass thoroughly wedged in the sink, as water sprayed and ricocheted everywhere. “I’m stuck.”
“Good,” he roared back at me, as he scooped clumps of washing up liquid off his chest and face. “Stay there.”
“D-dammit J-Joey.” Gasping, and spluttering, I scrambled to turn off the tap that was spraying arctic water on top of me. “I’m c-cold.”
“And I’m warm?” Depositing the goo on the tiled classroom floor, he repeated the move several times, trying and failing to rid himself of green gunk. “You’re a pain in my hole, Molloy.”
“Jo-jo-joey!” I screamed, teeth chattering violently. “H-help!”
“Fine,” he snapped, exasperated, as he moved to come get me. “But I’m warning ya now—“ Slip sliding on the floor, he righted himself before he fell and regained his balance. “Jesus Christ, the floor’s a death trap.”
“Sh-shut up and s-save me, asshole.”
“Don’t you take that tone with me,” he warned, pointing a finger at me, as he hastily skated the rest of the way over to me. “I’m warning you, Molloy, if you pull anymore stunts, you’re going straight back in the sink for a time-out.”
Ignoring our classmates who were all reveling in my misfortune, I wrapped my arms around Joey’s neck, and tried to help him free me from the sink.
“Shit,” he muttered. “You really are stuck.”
“I t-told y-you,” I strangled out, clinging to him like a drowned cat. “G-get me o-out of he-here!”
“I’m trying,” he bit out. “It’s your ass.”
“If you s-say that m-my ass is f-fat, I’m g-going to s-scream.”
“Your ass is perfect.” Reaching up to grease his hands with washing up liquid from his hair, he tried and failed to un-wedge my hips. “It’s this goddamn sink that’s the problem.”
“Jo-joe…”
“Hang on a sec; I have an idea.”
“What the h-hell are you d-doing?” I choked out, when he pushed his hand between my clamped thighs and cupped me there. “Joey!”
“My bad.” With a deep frown etched on his face, he slid his hand in further until he was gripping my ass cheek. “Okay, now clench.”
“Wh-what?”
“Squeeze your ass, Molloy. You squeeze and I’ll pull. On three, okay? One, two, three—“
“Ugh!” I squealed, clenching my ass cheeks so tight they went into spasm. Thankfully, it did the trick, and I was propelled out of the sink and into his arms.
“Wah-hey!” Several of our classmates cheered, erupting in a chorus of clapping.
“I’m f-free.” I released a sigh of relief. “Oh th-thank Jesus.”
“Yeah, I thought that might work –” Losing his balance on the floor that had become a glorified ice rink, Joey collapsed in a heap on the ground, taking me with him.
There were only three options available to me in this moment; laugh, cry, or keep fighting.
I chose the first one, and surprisingly, so did my partner in crime.
“Fuck,” he choked out a laugh from beneath me. “That was…”
“Stupid.” Lifting up on elbows, I grinned down at him. “I won.”
“No, I won.”
“Who came out on top?”
“You, Molloy.” Shaking his head, he stared up at my face and released an amused sigh. “Always you.”
“They did what?” A booming male voice echoed through the air, and I bit back a groan, when our principal came pounding into the classroom, looking like he was fit to be tied.
“And that’s how you know you fucked up,” Alec laughed.
“Why am I not surprised to see the two of you up to no good – again,” our principal seethed, face turning purple in color, as he glowered down at us. “In my office. Now!”
“Aw crap,” I groaned, dropping my head on his chest. “It was nice knowing ya, Joe.”
“Yeah.” Joey sighed heavily and patted my head. “Right back atcha, Molloy.”
