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“Uh-huh. I bet whatever you took knocked you out hard.”

“Aoife, I’m sorry!” I called after her when she stormed off. “I can do this. I can take care of you and the baby—”

“You can’t even take care of yourself!” She pulled her hood back up when the wind knocked it down. “You’re sick, Joe. You’re so sick and you can’t even see it.”

“I’m not sick,” I argued, hurrying after her. “I’m just going through some shit right now.”

“You are a drug addict,” she cried out hoarsely as she swung around to glare at me. “You are killing yourself and you are killing me!”

“No.” I shook my head, desperately refuting her words. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Look at what’s happening to your life!” she all but screamed. “You’ve been kicked off the hurling team. You’re failing at school. You’re constantly off your head. You’ve lost yourself, Joe. You promised me that you’d stay, but you’re not here anymore. I bet you don’t even know what day it is.”

“It’s Thursday,” I choked out, trembling. “And I don’t give a fuck about school or the hurling team.”

“What about me?” she sobbed. “What about our baby? Do you care about us?”

“You’re all I care about,” I snapped, pushing my hair back. “Fuck, you’re all I’ve ever cared about, Molloy. You know that.”

“Then fight, Joey Lynch,” she begged, fisting her hand in the front of my hoodie. “Fight this.”

“I am.”

“Liar,” she accused, tears spilling down her cheeks. “You’ve thrown in the towel. You’ve given the hell up, and we both know it.”

“What do you want me to do?” I shot back, struggling to rein in my temper. “Jesus fucking Christ, Molloy, I am doing everything that’s been asked of me. Fucking everything!”

“The only thing I’m asking you to do is the one thing you point-blank refuse to do,” she argued hotly. “Get clean.”

“Aoife—”

“You don’t get it,” she screamed. “You can’t see how far you’ve fallen, Joey. I’ve had to beg and borrow to get you out of trouble with Shane Holland and those monsters, and you keep going back to them! I owe Gibsie money. I owe Podge money. I owe Casey money and she doesn’t even have it to spare. I am doing everything I can to keep you alive, but you just won’t help yourself!”

“I’m fine,” I bit out. “It’s all good.” When she didn’t respond, I gently tipped her chin upward, forcing her to look at me. “I love you.”

“I used to think that was true,” she said, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “But I’m beginning to think that you don’t know what love means.”

“Molloy—”

“Look at my face, Joe,” she told me, and I did. Fuck, I did. “This is what hurting the person who loves you most in the world looks like.” She sniffled, tears dripping down her face, mirroring mine. “Remember this moment,” she added quietly. “Remember what I looked like the day you broke my heart.”

90

One Song at a Time

JOEY

My mind was playing tricks on me. Or maybe my body was the one playing tricks on my mind.

Either way, I couldn’t figure anything out anymore. Confusion had settled deep in my bloodstream, and I was lost. I knew that I was physically present, back in the house I hated, surrounded by people I couldn’t look in the eye. Yet, it felt like I was looking down on myself from above. Like I was a spectator, seeing all the bullshit unfold around me, while I was powerless to stop it.

I’d gone too far, I realized. The hunger eating away at me, the aching in my veins, it was too necessary now. Too fucking deeply imbedded in me to try and fight it.

I didn’t want to fight.

I was tired.

When the chips were down and the cards had folded, Molloy was the only reprieve from the pain. I wanted to reach for her. I wanted so fucking badly to grab the hand she was holding out for me, but catching hold of her hand meant that she could be dragged down with me, and I couldn’t fucking risk it.

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