by Chloe Walsh
Was I losing my touch?
I couldn’t find the fucking opening of a plastic bag.
Fuck.
Was this going to happen to me with everything?
"Do you want a hand with that?" she asked for the third bleeding time.
"I can do it myself, lady," I snapped, flustered, and more than likely frightening the poor pharmacist. "I can do it," I repeated in a calmer voice. "I'm just out of practice."
"Out of practice shopping?" she asked, frowning.
"With a lot of bleeding things," I muttered under my breath before finally opening the bag. "See!" I grinned, victorious, as I held the twelve pack in one hand and the tricky fucking carrier bag open with the other. "I can do this."
"Yes, you can," the pharmacist replied, giving me an encouraging thumbs up.
Jesus…
44
Bust Ups and Push Ups
Shannon
In a world where everything was changing at the speed of light, I could depend on one thing to remain the same, and that was Lizzie and Gibsie's blatant dislike of each other. Every day during lunch for the almost two weeks that we had been back to school, they had tossed snarky comments and remarks back and forth at each other. Some cruel. Some funny. Some downright disgusting.
I couldn't understand what the problem was between them, and even though Lizzie was one of my best friends, I had to admit that she was the orchestrator of every argument. She seemed to find a problem with everything Gibsie did. He was either breathing too heavy, or chewing too loudly, or taking up too much of the table. It didn't matter what Gibsie did or didn't do; Lizzie always found fault with him.
By lunchtime on Thursday, the tension bubbling up between them had reached a breaking point, and I was seriously beginning to rethink our sitting arrangements, wondering if we would be better off sitting at our old table. At least they would be far apart from one another. The only thing that kept me at the rugby table was the boy whose arm was slung over my shoulder.
I couldn't look at Johnny too often; it just wasn't good for my poor heart. I tried to just breathe and be normal, focus on anything other than him, because I knew that if I thought too much about how good it felt having his big body pressed to mine, or how he made me shiver when he leaned close to whisper something in my ear, and how he absentmindedly stroked my arm with his thumb as he laughed and joked with his friends, I would burst into flames.
Johnny's father was back in Dublin and his mother was with him, they wouldn’t be home until late tonight, so he had invited me to go over to his house after school today. I wanted to go, more than anything, but I was a nervous wreck thinking about the storm I knew I would face when I got home tonight. They were already furious with me for taking spins to and from school with him, so I knew I would be returning to a battle, heightened by the fact that my father was due to be discharged from Brickley House any day now. I tried not to think about my father too much, knowing that thoughts of him evoked crippling panic attacks. Instead, I focused on the positives in my life. I focused on my friends and my brothers, but mostly, I focused on Johnny. My mother's wrath or the fear of my father wouldn't stop me from going to the Kavanagh's house, though. To be honest, I wasn't sure anything could. I was desperate to spend time alone with him. He made me feel safe, and wanted, and I was sticking to that feeling like glue.
"Are you seriously that stupid?" Lizzie's high-pitched snarl cut through my thoughts, causing me to almost leap out of my skin.
"You okay?" Johnny asked, turning to look at me.
"Yeah," I choked out, resisting the urge to press my hand to my chest. "I just wasn't expecting that."
"Ignore them," he whispered, resuming his thumb tracing on my shoulder.
"Are you being for real?" Lizzie continued to hiss, glaring daggers at Gibsie, who was sitting across from me. "Or is this just another stupid joke to you?"
"Relax," Gibsie huffed, folding his arms across his chest. "I was only asking a question."
"Well, ask good questions," Lizzie countered and then shoveled a forkful of salad into her mouth. "Not stupid ones that only make you appear even stupider than you already are."
"Stupider is not a word," Gibsie scoffed, and then quickly looked to Johnny for back up. "Right, Cap?"
"It's a comparative adjective, lad," Johnny replied, shifting uncomfortably.
Gibsie gave him a blank stare.
Johnny blew out a breath. "It's a word, Gibs."
"How is stupider a word?" he demanded. "That just sounds stupid."
Johnny shrugged. "I didn't make the rules."
"Maybe it was put in the dictionary to describe you," Lizzie offered dryly. "As in; Gerard Gibson is stupider than any person I have ever met."
"That's it –" Shoving his chair back, Gibsie jerked to his feet. "I'm calling Father McCarthy to intervene on your behalf. You need an exorcism and Jesus."
"And you need institutionalizing," Lizzie shot back, nostrils flaring. "Idiot."
"The whole fucking world isn’t your punching bag," Gibsie roared back, furious. "I don’t know who told you different, but they gave you some bad advice."
"Gerard –" Claire, who was sitting beside him, began to interject, but Gibsie wasn't having it.
"No, Claire, I'm done with taking her shit," he growled, picking up his schoolbag. "You are a mean girl, Lizzie Young, and it astounds me that you managed to snag two decent girls to be friends with you."
"Astounds you?" Lizzie countered in a sarcastic tone. "Wow. Big word, Gibs. Can you spell that, too?"
"You know what?" Tossing his bag over his shoulder, he gave her look of pure disgust. "Fuck you, Lizzie." Having said that, Gibsie stalked out of the lunch hall, red-faced and fuming.
"Are you happy with yourself?" Johnny asked, glaring at Lizzie. "Did that make you feel good? Belittling him like that?"
"He's a big boy," Lizzie shot back defensively. "He can take it."
"He's dyslexic!" Johnny snapped. "And you just made him feel about two feet tall in front of half the school."
Surprise flashed in Lizzie's eyes and her cheeks reddened. "I didn't know that."
"Well, now you know!" Pressing a quick kiss to my cheek, Johnny shoved his chair back and said, "I'll see ya later, Shan," before hurrying off in the direction Gibsie had gone.
"Did you have to do that to him?" Claire hissed. "That was cruel."
"He does it back to me," Lizzie defended, still red-faced. "And I didn't know he was dyslexic."
"It shouldn't matter," Claire snapped. "That was a horrible thing to say to anyone." She rose from her chair, adding, "And there's a lot that you don't know about him so don't be so quick to judge!"
"I didn't know," Lizzie muttered, turning to me when Claire was gone.
"I believe you," I told her. And I did. "But…"
"But?"
"I know you and Gibsie don't get along, and that's okay, but just…just stay away from each other and don't be so mean," I blurted out. "I think you really hurt his feelings."
"Yeah, well, no more than his actions hurt others," Lizzie hissed, as she became the fourth person to stalk away from the table.
"Well, that escalated quickly," Hughie stated calmly.
I blew out a shaky breath. "I'll say." Pushing my chair back, I stood up and grabbed my schoolbag. "I'll see you later, guys."
"Bye, Shan," they all chorused as I hurried away from the table, feeling too shy to sit there without Claire, Lizzie, or Johnny.
Slipping my bag onto both shoulders, I clutched the straps and maneuvered through the crowded hallway in the direction of the bathroom, only to halt in my tracks when my eyes landed on Bella standing outside the bathroom door.
"Slut," she hissed, narrowing her eyes at me.
Sidestepping a group of boys, I ignored Bella and hurried away from the bathroom, choosing the sanctuary of the third-year common room instead. Slipping inside, I sagged in relief when I found it empty. Dropping my bag on the floor by the table, I walked over to the
kitchenette and flicked on the kettle. A loud sniffle from the armchair startled me and I swung around.
"Lizzie?" My brows shot up in surprise when I spotted her slumped in the chair. Abandoning the kettle, I made a beeline for her. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she whispered, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.
She clearly wasn't.
Sinking into the chair opposite her, I rested my elbows on my knees and offered her a small smile. "Do you want to talk?"
She shook her head. "No."
"I…" Hesitating, I reached over and took her hand in mine. "Are you sure?"
"I'll be okay, Shan," she strangled out, dropping her head so I couldn't see her cry. "Honestly, I'll be fine."
"I know," I agreed, giving her hand a small squeeze. "But it's okay if you're not fine right now."
"I'm just so angry all the time," she confessed, keeping her head down. "It won't stop."
Careful not to push her for more than she was willing to give, I remained silent and continued to hold her hand. I knew why she was angry with the world and I didn't blame her. "It's coming up soon, right?" I finally found the courage to ask. "Your sister's anniversary?"
Snatching her hand away, she slumped in her chair and nodded stiffly. "The end of the month."
I blew out a shaky breath. "It's hard."
"There's no justice in the world," she bit out.
"No," I agreed sadly. "There isn't."
"I fucking hate this school, Shannon," she hissed. "I hate that team and everything they represent."
My heart sank. "Gibsie reminds you of him?"
Lizzie flinched. "I can't help it. Every time I look at him, I see him."
"They're not the same person, Liz," I offered quietly. "Gibsie isn't Mark."
"Whatever, Shan," she said wearily. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Okay." Clasping my hands together, I studied her closed-off expression. "Are you and Pierce at least okay?"
"No," she strangled out, as her eyes filled with tears once again. "It's all a mess."
"Why?"
"Because I can't get past it," she sniffled. "I can't see beyond it, and I can't get over it. I'm stuck and I keep driving him away." Releasing a furious growl, she wiped her eyes and jerked to her feet. "It doesn't even matter. He can fuck off if he wants to. I'm not holding him down and making him stay. If he wants to be done then we're done."
"Lizzie –"
"I don't want to talk anymore," she cut me off by saying. "I can't."
"Okay." Rising to my feet, I slapped on a bright smile. "We won't talk."
She sagged in relief. "Thank you."
"What time are your parents going to be home?" I asked breathlessly.
"Not until later tonight," Johnny grunted and I watched as a bead of sweat trickled down his brow. "Will we go again?"
"Yeah." I blew out a breath. "Are you sure it's okay that I'm here?"
"Hundred percent." He shifted beneath me, hands moving into position. "Is this good for you?"
Shivering, I nodded. "It's good."
"Poker straight," he instructed. "Don’t bend."
"I won’t," I replied, only to laugh when his fingers touched a particularly ticklish part of my thigh.
"Come on, baby," he grunted, breathless beneath me, arms locked tight like vices on my body.
I could hear the smile in his voice, but I knew this was important so I didn’t push for playful. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I giggled, smothering my laugh. Inhaling a sobering breath, I locked my body into position and said, "Okay, muscle man, go for it."
"One, two, three –" His words broke off and I was lifted into the air, held there for a moment, and then lowered back down. The movement was effortless as he repeated it over and over.
"You okay?" he asked, voice raspy and a little breathless, as he continued to pump my body up and down.
"All good," I assured him, holding myself perfectly still.
"I'm going to go faster," he warned me, tightening his hold on my body. 'Tell me if it's too much for you."
"I can handle it," I promised, feeling a little off-centered and dizzy.
"The fuck?" Gibsie's voice perforated through the grunting and heavy breathing.
Startled, I swung my gaze to where he was standing a few feet from us with a huge grin on his face.
"Do you mind?" Johnny grunted, not breaking his rhythm. "We're in the middle of something here."
"I've heard of fellas using household items as makeshift weights," Gibsie mused, scratching his jaw, as his gaze trailed over us. "But using Little Shannon as a barbell? This is a new thing for you, Johnny."
"His parents aren't here and they locked the garage," I called out by way of explanation, feeling my face flame with embarrassment. "We were just improvising."
"So you have a free house and you're weight training?" Gibsie replied in an amused tone. "And people say I'm weird." Pushing off the doorframe, he stepped into the room. "Be careful. You're not out of the woods yet, Cap."
"Upper body," Johnny muttered, jaw locked tight in concentration, as he continued to lift me up and down.
"Yeah," I hurried to explain. "See, we're not touching anything below the waist, and that's allowed."
Gibsie's brows shot up and his smile deepened. "Is that so?"
Johnny let out what sounded like a pained growl.
I tried to nod, but it was impossible considering he was still lifting me up and down.
"Fuck, I feel like I should put some mood music on," Gibsie said then, causing us both to look at him.
My brows furrowed. "Huh?"
"Oh, not for you," he explained. "For me. I'm getting hard watching this."
"Jesus Christ Gibs," Johnny barked, lowering me onto his chest so that I was sprawled across him. "The hell is wrong with you?"
"I don’t know," he groaned, diving into the armchair. "I'm feeling very confused right now. But please, continue. I want to see how this plays out."
"I'm going to, uh…go to the bathroom," I squeezed out, as I twisted around onto my hands and knees.
The move wasn’t my best idea, considering it left me straddling Johnny. But in his defense, he looked as uncomfortable as I felt. His hands moved to my thighs of their own accord as he pulled himself into a sitting position. "I'm getting you counseling," he said to Gibsie as his hands remained clamped on my thighs. "Seriously, lad. You're getting out of hand."
"Can I go?" I blurted out, tapping his hands to get him to release me. "I really need to pee."
Gibsie snickered and Johnny gave my legs a squeeze before letting go. "Take your time," he told me, keeping his eyes locked on Gibsie. "I need a word with my buddy here."
Springing unsteadily to my feet, I hurried for the door, only to hesitate and turn back around. "Hey, Gibs?"
"Yeah, little Shannon?" he replied, smiling warmly at me.
"Why do you do that?" I asked, my mind straying.
"Do what?"
"Call me little Shannon?"
"Because you're little?" he laughed. "And you're Shannon." Grinning, he shrugged. "Little Shannon."
Fair enough. "Well, I just wanted to ask if you were okay?" Shifting uncomfortably, I clasped my hands together. "After what happened at lunch today?"
"It's all good," he told me, smile still in place. "No worries."
"Okay." Shrugging helplessly, I added, "But for the record, I think you're really smart."
His brows shot up. "Me?"
"You," I confirmed quietly before slipping out of the room.
45
Fired Up
Johnny
"Lad, I think I love your girlfriend," Gibsie stated when Shannon whizzed out of the sitting room. "That's weird, right?"
"What's weird is you telling me that you love my girlfriend," I replied, climbing to my feet. "That's dangerous."
"You know I don't mean it like that," he chuckled, holding his hands up. "I'm just saying that she's a really decent girl and I like her." Scratching his
jaw, he looked at me thoughtfully for a long moment before adding, "You did a good job."
"Yeah, she is." Frowning, I reached for my bottle of water off the coffee table. "And thanks…I think?"
"I'm still trying to work out how you went from Bella to Shannon." Shrugging, he added, "They're like night and day, lad."
Don't remind me. Unscrewing the cap of my bottle, I drained the contents before asking, "So, are you really okay after earlier?"
"Yeah, I'm grand," he grumbled, dropping the mask. "I just don't get what that girl's problem is with me, lad."
"Did you ever offend her?" I asked, feeling as clueless about it as he did. "Call her a name or something?"
"Me being alive offends her, Johnny," he countered with a huff. "So, I'd say yes, I offend her by waking up every morning."
"I don't get what her problem is either, lad," I offered with a shrug. "I'm thinking she has some serious issues."
"We all have issues," he countered. "Not all of us go around taking those issues out on other people."
"True."
"I'm done taking her shit," he added. "I mean it. I don't care if she's Claire's friend. I'm not giving her a free pass anymore."
"Never thought you should have given her a free pass anyway – regardless of who she's friends with," I told him. "You teach people how to treat you by setting boundaries, lad. If you let someone walk all over you, they're going to think it's okay."
"I just felt sorry for her over all that stuff that went on with her sister a few years back," he muttered. "But there's only so many times I can let it slide."
"Lizzie has a sister?" I frowned. "I didn't know that." Curious, I asked, "What went on with her sister?"
Gibsie blinked rapidly. "You don't know?"
"No." I narrowed my eyes. "What don't I know?"
"I'm not supposed to say anything about it," he muttered. "I'm literally sworn to secrecy."
"Come on, lad, it's me. Who am I going to tell?"
"Look, it happened before you moved down here," he said. "And that's all I'm saying."