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“I don’t want fifty more girls,” I replied, twisting back to find her still watching me. “I just want that girl.”
“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.”
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.
And with those words, my mother cut me deeper and more viciously than my father ever had. Ever could.
“I’m not afraid of loving a boy,” I told her honestly. “I’m afraid of losing myself in one.”
“Make sure you do.” She laughed. “Because I’ve put an awful lot of effort into saving you, six.”
You shouldn’t settle for anything less than being in love to the point of madness. The only person that you should be settling for is the person who unsettles you the most. The person who drives you to the brink of suicide because he or she makes you feel so fucking much that you can’t catch your breath or remotely function without them.
She blew out a shaky breath and nodded. “Oh, I’ve been sold on you for a long time now, Joey Lynch.”
“The quintessential lost boy.” Her lips grazed mine as she spoke. “Don’t worry, Peter Pan, I’ll be your Wendy.”
“Because the only time that I allow myself to feel anything is when I’m with you.”
“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.”
