Redeeming 6: Boys of Tommen #4

JOEY

WITH THE MOTHER of all headaches, I slowly blinked awake. I felt fucking horrified as I slowly registered the fact that I was face-down in a stranger’s floral-patterned bedsheets, with no recollection of how I’d gotten there.

Panic stricken, I quickly sprung up on my elbows and looked down, relieved to find myself fully clothed in my school uniform. I even had my shoes on.

Cracking my head off a familiar bunkbed bar above me, I slowly realized that I was in my own bed, but the sheets had been changed – by Shannon, no doubt.

“So, you live to tell another tale,” Podge said flatly, as he sat on the edge of the mattress, with an empty water bottle in hand. “What the fuck, Joey? I thought you got a handle on this?”

“Why are you here?” I muttered, gingerly pulling myself into a sitting position, as the room felt like it was floating around me. Pushing my damp hair out of my eyes, I asked, “Why am I here?”

“I brought you here,” he replied. “You passed out in the toilets at school this afternoon, asshole. Aoife found you and came and got me. You’re damn lucky that Nyhan didn’t catch you, or you’d be out on your ass.”

“This afternoon?” Confusion echoed through my mind, and my heart gunned in my chest. “What time is it?” I shook my head. “Where’s Aoife?”

“It’s after two.”

“In the afternoon?”

“No, lad, in the middle of the night.” Podge sighed heavily. “You’ve been out for ten hours, Joey. So again, and I can’t stress this enough; what the fuck?”

Jesus Christ.

“I don’t know.” Climbing unsteadily to my feet, I pushed my damp hair back from my face once more. “Why’s my hair wet?”

“I had to wake you somehow,” he defended, throwing the empty water bottle at my head. I didn’t bother to duck, choosing to let the plastic smack me upside the head. “You’ve been out for so long; I was starting to think that you might be dead.”

“Yeah, well, I’m clearly not dead.”

“This time,” he shot back, running a hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ, how long has it been going on again?”

“It was just a one-off.”

“Bullshit.”

“Leave it out, Podge,” I muttered. “I fucked up. I get it. I don’t need a goddamn lecture.”

“Going by the look on Aoife’s face, and the sheer volume of tears she spilled, you did more than just fuck up this time.”

I tensed, on edge. “What does that mean?”

“Like you give a shit about anything other than what goes up your goddamn nose.”

“What does that mean, Podge?”

“It means you completely fucked it with your girlfriend,” he whisper-hissed, rising to his feet. “I don’t know what you did to her, or what the fuck you said, but I have never seen devastation like that.”

“What do you mean?” Panicked, I grabbed my phone, only to find zero notifications from Molloy. I quickly dialed her number but was sent straight to voicemail. “Jesus Christ, what did I do?”

He folded his arms across his chest and gave me a hard look. “You tell me.”

“I wouldn’t be asking you if I fucking knew,” I snarled, losing my cool now, as I paced the room. “You said she was crying?” I looked to him, panicked. “Did I hurt her?”

He stared at me for a long time before shaking his head in resignation. “No, Joe, you didn’t hurt her like that. You never laid a finger on her, lad, and you never would, so relax.”

Heaving out a shuddering breath, I sagged against my bedroom wall and took a minute to regather my composure. “Fuck.”

“You care about her,” Podge stated, watching me carefully. “More than anything or anyone you have ever allowed yourself to care about. I’ve seen it – the shift in you, and so has Alec. The change. The hopefulness she brings out in you. Hell, the whole fucking world can see how good that girl is for you, man. But you’re so determined to self-destruct that you’re not looking at what you’re doing to her.” He shook his head before adding, “If you don’t care about yourself, and it’s pretty clear that you don’t, then you need to think about what your actions are doing to her. Because guess what, fucker? Aoife Molloy loves you. Do you hear me, you lucky son of a bitch? Hands down the best-looking girl in our school – possibly in the whole town – with the best, top-quality banter loves you.”

“Sound more surprised, why don’t ya?”

“I’m not surprised,” he shot back, without hesitation. “I’ve seen plenty of the dolls you’ve pulled over the years. I’m not insecure enough to deny that you’re a good-looking son of a bitch.” He shrugged. “You’re both beautiful. It makes sense for her to be with you.”

“You know, I’m not sure I like where this conversation is heading,” I warned. “Because if this is the part where you tell me that you’re attracted to my girlfriend, I’m going to be really fucking pissed, and if you tell me that you’re attracted to me, then I’m going to be really fucking traumatized.”

“Of course, I’m attracted to your girl,” Podge shot back. “As is every other lad in our school.”

“Yeah.” I nodded to myself. “I’m pissed.”

“Good looks aside, you’re a fucking trainwreck to deal with,” he argued. “And I should know. I’ve spent the last fourteen years watching you derail, but I’ve stuck around for the same reason she has. Because she sees the same thing I do; a good fucking person underneath all of the bullshit. But you’re blurring those lines, Joe. You crossed a line today and you need to make it right,” he said, holding a finger up. “I love you like a brother, I always have, but one of these days you’re going to slip so far off the tracks that none of us will be able to reach you.”

His words cut me deep, and I found myself reacting on instinct. “I don’t need anyone to reach me.” Rattled, I hissed, “I don’t need you, or her, or anyone else to help me with shit.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Keep on behaving like this and no one will want to.”

I narrowed my eyes right back. “Suits me just fine.”

“Go on, Joe; keep pushing the people that actually love you away,” he argued, tone heated and eyes laced with disappointment. “Keep driving us out of your life and you’re going to end up with only Shane Holland and his leeches sucking the life out of you.”

“Are you done lecturing me?” Stalking over to my bedroom door, I swung it open and glared at him. “Because you can leave now.”

“Lad, you’re still off your rocker if you think my country ass is walking through your thug-infested terrace at two o clock in the morning.” Flopping down on my bed, Podge readjusted my pillow behind his head and made himself comfortable. “Nah, you’re stuck with me for the night, so you might as well get yourself reacquainted with the dog-house on the floor,” he offered, yawning. “Because I have a feeling that’s where you’ll be spending most of your time for the foreseeable.”

“I should go see her—’

“No, you should lie your ass down before you get yourself in any more trouble,” my friend commanded, throwing a pillow at me. “Leave the poor girl to get a night’s sleep. You can go over there first thing in the morning.”

Relenting, I dropped down on the floor and covered my face with my arm. “Fuck.”

“Do you want to know something?”

“If it’s anything to do with how much of a shitty person I am, then no, lad,” I muttered. “I’m already fully aware.”

“Charlie Monaghan tried it on with Aoife at school today.”

“The fuck?” I lifted my arm off my face to gape up at him. “And you know this how?”

“Heard it from Rambo who heard it from Becca.”

“What did he say?”

“What am I, a mind reader? I told you that I heard it from Rambo who heard it from Rebecca. I’m not tele-fucking-pathic, lad.”

“That little shit-bag.”

“Stuck it to her, apparently,” Podge chuckled. “So, it sounds to me like you need to get your head out of your hole and up your game if you want to hold onto that girl.”

“Sounds to me like I need to break Charlie Monaghan’s fucking nose.”

“Yeah,” my best friend chuckled. “That, too.”