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I never knew hurt until he walked away from me. I never knew. I never…
“I don’t want fifty more girls,” I replied, twisting back to find her still watching me. “I just want that girl.”
“Dar?” Hovering uncertainly, I turned back to find him already walking away. “I’ll see you after school, yeah?” My brother didn’t answer. “Dar?” He didn’t turn back to look at me, either. “Darren?” Instead, he pulled his hood up and kept walking away from me.
“You saw me back there,” she stated evenly, green eyes snaring me. “I did.” “You kept walking.” I nodded like a fool. “I did.” “Don’t do that again.” Fuck me. “I won’t.” She looked me over once more before nodding in approval. “You’re beautiful.” Well, shit. “Likewise.”
“Does it matter?” I countered, needing to regain some ground I had lost to this powerhouse of a girl. “We both know that you’ll be calling me ‘baby’ by the end of the day.”
“Is that your way of telling me that you don’t have a boyfriend?” “No, it’s my way of telling you that I will have a boyfriend once you ask me.”
I, on the other hand, had been ten years old when I learned the meaning of the word rape.
My babies ☹️
I knew there was no way I would ever put my siblings in a position where that could happen to them. I would rather die first—and that wasn’t me being dramatic. I meant it.
No 12 year old should have to think about this
“You have nice legs,”
Hearing Paul Rice tell half of the lads in our P.E. class about how Tony’s daughter was so tight he could barely get a finger inside her had caused me to flip the fuck out on him in the changing rooms. I did it for Tony because he wasn’t there to do it himself. At least, that’s what I continued to tell myself.
Get you a man like Joey
“So, how many siblings do you have?” “Four,” he muttered before quickly correcting himself and saying, “three.”
“You are a really weird fucking girl,” he grumbled, looking thrown off-kilter, before begrudgingly adding, “With nice legs.”
“I’ll be seeing ya, Molloy.”
“I love my children so much.” ‘I love my children,’ not ‘I love you, Joey.’
I am nothing like that man in any other way.” “You are,” she said before leaving the room. “In every way.” And with those words, my mother cut me deeper and more viciously than my father ever had. Ever could.
“Nice game.” “Nice legs.”
“This doesn’t mean anything, Molloy,” he added. “You didn’t win this round.” I threw my head back and laughed. “I always win, Joe.”
‘Aoife, you’re my dearest, sexiest, most lovable, bestest friend in the whole wide world’.”
“You’re my favorite friend, with my favorite legs.”
She leaned in close and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “You’re my favorite friend, with my favorite everything.”
“He’s not worth it, Joe.” No, but she is.
“I’m shaking.” “No need to shake, asshole. Just make your peace with God because I’m going to bury you.”
“Nice winning score, by the way.” “Nice legs.”
“Whoa, she’s really, really pretty, Joe.”
I would rather die than expose an ounce of vulnerability to the man I had the misfortune of calling my father.
“Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the donkey,”
QUOTE BY MAMMY K
“I’ll be seeing ya, Molloy.”
“Nice moves.” “Nice legs,”
“Make sure you do.” She laughed. “Because I’ve put an awful lot of effort into saving you, six.”
Molloy arched a brow right back at me and mouthed fuckup. I winked. Nice legs.
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.”
“So, you like the color yellow?” “It recently became my favorite.” “Is that so?” “That’s so, Molloy.” “My favorite color is yellow, too.” “It’s a good color on you.”
“All I’m doing is being a good friend to my favorite friend.” “She’s not your anything.” “Uh, yes, I am.” “Hear that, Ricey?” Joey replied, with a shit-eating grin etched on his face. “Your girl here is my anything.”
“I like you.” “Wow,” I breathed. “Another admission.” “The hardest one yet.”
“I’ll be seeing ya, Molloy.”
“If it was anyone else, Molloy. If it was anyone else.” “But it’s me.” “It’s you,” he confirmed. “Pain in my hole.”
“You look like shit.” “Thanks,” he grumbled, setting his elbows on our desk and dropping his head in his hands. “You look like dinner.”
“Aoife?” Sam snorted. “You wish.” Yeah, I did. Regularly.
he crouched in front of her and cleaned her fucking leg. “Nice legs.” Oh no he did not! He did. He fucking did!
Oh nah I’m AIRING that room OUT
I wanted to hate him so much. I needed to hate him. You need to stop loving him first…
“What’s her name?” “Bella.” He dropped his head in his hands and groaned, “Bella Wilkinson.”
Ew
“I’ll be seeing ya, Molloy.”
“How are you feeling?” “Like I want us to get naked and fuck.”
I like high Joey
“So, this home economics partner,” Joey said, following me over to the table. “Is he your friend?” My heart flipped in my chest. “He was.” “Was?” Nodding, I sank down on my chair and took a bite of toast. “He used to be my best friend.” “What changed?” “We had a fight.” “Is that right?” “Uh-huh. He broke my heart.”
“He misses his friend.” My heart flipped. “He should miss her. She’s amazing.” He smirked. “He wants her back.” “She never left.” I swallowed. “She just needed a time-out.” “Good.” He nodded. “Because if she did leave, he wouldn’t like it.”
“Nice moves.” He stared at my hand for a long beat before slowly placing his hand on top of mine. “Nice everything.”
Go with it or I’ll cut your dick off.
“Don’t give in to them,” he rasped, holding onto my hand with strength I was surprised he was capable of. “Promise me that you’ll…never…give in to them.” “Give in to who, Granda?” Gasping and wheezing for air, he looked me right in the eyes, green eyes on green and whispered, “The demons your father put in your head.”
I’ll Be Seeing Ya, Molloy
“I’ll be seeing ya, Molloy,”
