Saving 6: Boys of Tommen #3

SEPTEMBER 3RD 2001

AOIFE

“WHAT DID YOU DO?” Casey demanded, bright and early on Monday morning, sliding into the seat next to mine in tutorial. “The whole school is talking about it.”

It was our first day back to school after the summer holidays and our teacher was late, leaving the class in disarray.

Everyone was chatting loudly to each other, while I slowly withered in my seat.

“Oh god.” Dropping my head on the desk, I resisted the urge to wail. “You mean the fight, right?”

“Obviously,” Casey replied, eyes wide. “Spill the beans.”

“Where do I start?” I groaned.

The fight that had broken out between Paul and Joey at the weekend could only be described as a vicious dog fight that, had they not been dragged off each other, I had no doubt would have resulted in someone being taken away by ambulance.

And that was not me being dramatic, either.

Never in my life had I seen such violence up close and personal.

I could still remember the sound of bones crunching.

The white t-shirt I had been wearing was now in the wheely bin, having been sprayed with blood that Mam couldn’t get out in the wash.

Whose blood, I couldn’t say for sure, because by the time they were pulled apart, both boys had been doing quite a bit of bleeding in their own rights.

Two desks to my left, was a badly bruised Paul, while six rows behind me, at the back of the class, was a slightly less bruised Joey.

Neither one would look at the other – or me.

“I don’t know how it got so out of hand, Case,” I groaned, after giving my best friend a detailed report on the weekend’s shenanigans. “But apparently, it’s all my fault.”

They had both been suspended from the hurling team, something they were both clearly furious about, and the blame was being placed at my feet.

“Well, it sort of is,” my best friend laughed, offering me zero sympathy for my ordeal.

“Wow,” I grumbled. “Thanks a lot, bitch.”

“Oh, stop,” she said, making a psssh noise. “You know I’m right. I’m just saying what you already know out loud.”

“Ugh,” I groaned, knowing that she was right. “I just…”

“Want to have your cake and let Joey eat it?” she teased.

“He’s just my friend, Case.”

“Yeah, he’s just your fuckable friend, who can’t play nice with your equally fuckable boyfriend,” she corrected with a chuckle. “All the while, your most fuckable friend of all – Moi – had to spend the last weekend of summer listening to the sound of her mother’s headboard crashing against the bedroom wall, because you’re too busy chasing boys to hang out with your bestie.”

I winced. “Sorry.”

“Whatever, bitch.” She rolled her eyes again. “Just take me with you next time. I would have paid good money to see those boys throw down.” Grinning, she added, “Was it hot? It was hot, wasn’t it? Did they rip each other’s jerseys off? Was there skin on show? Did you see abs? Tell me.”

“You’re a perverted freak.”

“And you’re a greedy bitch keeping them both for yourself.”

I glared at her for a moment before blowing out a breath. “There was skin on show.”

Her blue eyes lit up with excitement. “Whose?”

“Joey’s.”

“Yes.” She pretended to bite her fist. “Give me more.”

“The coaches ripped his jersey trying to pull him off Paul,” I whispered, leaning in close so we weren’t overheard by any nosey bodies. “I’ve never seen anything like it, Case. It literally took three fully grown men to drag him away.”

“He’s a scary boy, Aoif,” she replied. “Sexy, yes, but downright terrifying.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Yes, he is,” she corrected, tone serious now. “You know I’m from Elk’s Terrace, too. I grew up on the other side of the estate from him. Hell, I even went to the same playschool as him. In fact, I specifically remember him being stood in the corner for fighting most days. I’ve seen him in action on way more occasions than you, babe, so trust me when I tell you that Joey Lynch is a very scary boy.”

“Not to me,” I heard myself whisper. “To me, he’s just Joey.”

“And Paul?”

“Paul is… Paul.”

“You’re playing with fire, Aoif,” she replied, eyes full of concern. “You need to cool this friendship with Joey or end it with Paul. This can’t continue.”

“I’m not doing anything with Joey. I care about him, okay. It’s okay to care about a person.”

“Maybe you’re not doing anything with him physically.”

“Physical is the line. I have not crossed the line, Case.”

“It’s supposed to be the line,” she agreed, tone uncertain.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you’re my best friend, and I don’t want to see you get hurt,” she said. “And messing around with Joey Lynch is going to get you hurt.”

“I’m not hurt—“

“You’re not hurt yet,” she interrupted. “But you will be, if you don’t start protecting that heart of yours.” She sighed heavily before whispering, “For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you for holding back with Paul. He’s not exactly a knight in shining armor but jumping from Paul’s ship to Joey’s is the equivalent of jumping out of the pan and into the fire. I know you care about him, Aoif. I get that, okay? But boys like that can’t be fixed. Not with friendship, or love, or anything else, because they are just not fixable.”

“I can’t walk away from him,” I admitted, voice torn. “I don’t know why, but I just can’t do it.”

“From who? From Paul?” Her gaze flicked to the desk behind us, and she winced before saying, “Or from Joey?”

Following her line of sight, I turned around in my seat just in time to get an eyeful of Neasa Murphy slipping her hand under the desk she was sharing with Joey.

Twisting sideways in her seat, she leaned in close and whispered something in his ear.

Whatever they were whispering to each other had Joey giving her a heated look, and Neasa rising from her seat and walking out of class.

Not missing a beat, Joey stood up and followed her out of the room, completely ignoring me when he passed our desk.

My heart sank.

Forget sinking; it shattered in my chest.

It didn’t take a genius to know where they were going, or what they planned to do when they got there.

“Still can’t walk away, Aoif?” Case asked sadly. “Because he doesn’t seem to have the same problem.”