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This kiss was going to have consequences, I realized. Huge, heart-stopping, feeling-igniting consequences.
“I see you, Joey Lynch,” she continued, stroking her nose against mine. “Yeah,” I replied in a gruff tone. “I see you too, Molloy.”
“You don’t mean shit to me,” I said, desperately trying to convince the both of us, as my chest heaved. “I don’t care about you, Molloy. I never have and I never will.” “You’re a terrible liar” was all she replied before crushing her lips to mine.
“The quintessential lost boy.” Her lips grazed mine as she spoke. “Don’t worry, Peter Pan, I’ll be your Wendy.”
“Molloy?” “What?” “Do you hate me?” No, I love you. “Go to sleep, Joey.”
“But don’t ever think that I don’t have feelings,” he said, and then pressed a kiss to my mouth. “Because the only time that I allow myself to feel anything is when I’m with you.”
“It’s not a matter of pride here. It’s a matter of laying your cards on the table and proving that I matter to you just as much as you matter to me.”
“Well, if people at school didn’t know about us before, they certainly do now.” “Good.” More bitchy glaring. “I have nothing to be ashamed of, have you?” I glowered back at her. “No.” “Good,” she bit out. “Glad we got that cleared up.”
God didn’t let children pick their parents. If he did, then maybe there would be fewer miserable children in the world. If he did, then I sure as hell wouldn’t be anywhere near these people.
“Hey, Joe, do you think I’m dramatic?” “Only when you’re awake.” Her glare made a reappearance. “Now I want two apologies.”
“It’s been seven months. You’re my boyfriend, I’m your girlfriend, and we love each other a lot.” “We absolutely do not!”
One minute I was twelve years old and locking eyes on her at the school gates, and the next I was seventeen, standing in her house, about to tell her father that she was mine.
“Do you love my daughter?” Heart thumping violently in my chest, I felt myself nod. “Entirely.” And then I heard myself say, “For about five years now.” Well, shit…
“It’s okay,” a small voice said, and my legs gave way beneath me. “No.” “It’s okay, Joe.” No, no, no. “Really, I’m okay.” Please, God, no.
“It doesn’t matter,” I wheezed as the pain of having my seven-year-old nose broken threatened to consume me. “I don’t care,” I continued to say over and over, hoping that if I said it enough times it might come true.
“It doesn’t matter,” Tadhg replied, giving me a horrible taste of déjà vu. “I don’t care.”
“Don’t hate me, Molloy,” Joey mumbled, falling into the passenger seat the moment I let him go to open the car door. “You’re all I have to wake up for in the morning.”
He was a good person who made terrible decisions. He wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. He was trying to survive in the only way he’d ever known how, by self-medicating.
“You’re the biggest ride in school.” “No, you’re the biggest ride.” “No, no, I insist it’s you.” “Okay, then we’re both rides.” “Yay!”
“The first day of first year,” he explained quietly. “The first time I laid eyes on you, and the first time I understood what it meant to have my heart beating for someone outside of my family.”
“I’m pissed the fuck off, Molloy.” “With me?” “Yes.” “For making you bring me here?” “Yes.” “Do you want to talk about it?” “No.” “Because you’re afraid you’ll blow up?” “Yes.” “Okay,” I replied calmly. “Then you be mad for as long as you need.” Because I’m not going anywhere.
“It never meant anything before you.” “Aw,” she teased. “You’re a sweet slut.”
When I didn’t feel well, I self-medicated. When my sister didn’t feel well, she starved herself half to death.
“What’s what like, Shan?” “Being in love.”
Being in love with someone hell-bent on self-destructing was such a lonely place to exist. I felt incredibly helpless, watching on as my boyfriend buried his secrets with lie upon countless lie.
“I guess we’re both too stubborn for running, huh, Molloy?” “Or too in love.”
“You might be the addict in this relationship, but you’re also the habit that I need to kick,” she choked out, chest heaving as she turned in my arms to face me. “Because I feel like I’m dying when I’m with you, and I feel like I’m dead when I’m not.”
“You made me fall, and trust, and believe, and then you took it all away.”
“And we’re going to see each other at school, and it’s not going to be fucked up and awkward because we both remember that before we were us, we were…” “Us,” she filled in softly. “Exactly. I’m not replacing you, Molloy.” I couldn’t. “I’m trying to fix me.” For you.
