Keeping 13

by Chloe Walsh

  "We'll probably strike up Saturday morning," I replied, dutifully ignoring the pissiness in his tone. "Beat the afternoon traffic."

  "Are you sure about that?" Gibsie snickered to himself.

  "Sure about what?"

  "Shannon going with you."

  "Yeah." I frowned. "Why?"

  "Oh, no reason," he mused. "It's just that Claire mentioned that Little Shannon didn’t know if she was going or not."

  "What?" I gaped at him. "The fuck are you talking about? Why wouldn't she know?"

  "Maybe because you didn’t ask her," he offered, grinning.

  I shook my head, feeling at a loss. "Come again?"

  "You didn’t ask her," he repeated, sounding thoroughly amused now. "Your girlfriend," he clarified. "You never asked her to go with you, Cap."

  I blinked, feeling confused. "Am I supposed to?"

  "Yes," all three of them responded in unison.

  "You have to ask them about everything," Hughie explained. "It's fucking ridiculous – I know. But girls are weird like that. They need to be asked to go places and shit. Invitations are a must. It's all relationship politics, lad. Trust me, it's best to ask them about everything. That's what I do with Katie." He grimaced before muttering, "I learned the hard way."

  "But she's my girlfriend," I argued, not buying into this shite. "Why would I ask her to go with me? Why wouldn’t she already know?"

  "Because it's a trap," Hughie offered.

  My brows shot up. "A trap?"

  "Don’t ask me," Gibsie snickered. "Most of the time I have no fucking clue of what's going on around me."

  "Only most of the time, Gibs?" Feely mused.

  "It's definitely a trap," Hughie said grimly, drawing my attention back to the strangest conversation we'd had in a while. "You're in trouble, Johnny."

  Oh shite. "I am?"

  "Absolutely," he said with a grimace. "Bad luck, lad."

  "He's right," Feely agreed. "You should have asked her to go with you, lad – you need to cover all of your bases."

  "Otherwise, it'll be thrown back at you," Hughie added. "At any given time."

  Feely nodded. "Day or night."

  "Regardless of how much time passes."

  "Isn't that the truth?"

  "You're telling me, lad."

  "That's bleeding ridiculous," I snapped, feeling flustered.

  "It's the way they work, lad," Hughie replied solemnly. "Girls are hard work."

  "The hardest," Feely offered.

  "Not my one," I defended.

  Hughie smirked. "We'll see."

  "So, what do I do now?" I asked, feeling a little panicky.

  "Go ask her," all three of them replied.

  "Now?"

  "Now," they confirmed.

  Ah, shite…

  Breathless from my sprint across the school, I rested a shoulder against the locker next to Shannon's and waited for her to notice me – and for my heart-rate to settle down.

  It didn’t settle.

  No, it only seemed to accelerate faster at the sight of her.

  Fuck.

  My.

  Life.

  Shannon closed the door of her locker then, only to jump when she noticed me standing there like a creeper. "Oh," she squeaked out and then quickly moved to tuck her hair behind her ears. "Hi, Johnny."

  "Hi, Shannon," I hurried to get that cute little pleasantry of hers out of the way before getting right down to business. "I fucked up, baby."

  "You did?" Shannon mirrored my actions and frowned up at me. "How?"

  My hand shot out of its own accord to smooth the line on her brow, but I quickly checked myself.

  Don’t touch her.

  Not here.

  You're on a warning.

  Your last bleeding warning, eejit.

  Just keep your hands in your pockets.

  You don’t have pockets.

  But she does.

  Ah, shite…

  "I didn’t ask you," I admitted with a one shouldered shrug, balling my wandering hands into fists at my sides. "I didn’t even fucking think to ask you," I added, repressing a groan at just how hopeless I was at this. "I just presumed that we would go together, you know?"

  Now she looked truly puzzled.

  Puzzled and anxious.

  Her smile slipped.

  Shite.

  "There's nothing wrong," I quickly threw out there. "Everything's fine."

  Relief flashed across her features, and those big blue eyes seemed to melt and soften. "Oh, okay." Re-tucking that exact same strand of hair behind her ear, she shrugged her small shoulders and smiled up at me. "Is this about the awards dinner this weekend?"

  I nodded eagerly, thankful that she knew what I was talking about. "Gibsie said you told Claire that I didn’t invite you."

  "Well, you, uh, kind of didn’t," Shannon replied in that small voice of hers. "I'm not upset about it," she quickly added, gaze cast downwards as her cheeks turned pink. "I don’t…I don’t…I'm not expecting you to take me or anything –"

  "Well, I'm expecting you to go with me," I told her, interrupting her rambling.

  Her face shot up. "You are?"

  Jesus Christ… "Yes, Shannon," I replied, stifling my impatience. "We're together. You're mine. I'm yours. It's kind of a big deal to me. You're a big deal to me. I thought us going together was a given." Blowing out a breath, I kept my eyes trained on hers and resisted the urge to let my gaze trail over her body. "Shan, you're my teammate in this. I don’t want to go to any black-tie event without you."

  Her brows shot up. "You don’t?"

  "No. I don’t."

  "But your parents are going with you," she said breathily. "Darren's coming down to stay with the boys for the weekend."

  "I know." Smirking, I stepped closer to temptation, breathing in the scent of her. Jesus, she was something else. "But I don’t want my parents with me."

  "You don’t?"

  I shook my head. "Nope."

  "So, who do you want?"

  "I want you."

  She exhaled a shaky breath. "Really?"

  I nodded. "Hundred percent."

  Her face flamed a deeper shade of pink.

  "Don’t blush," I groaned, unable to stop myself from reaching out and stroking her cheek. "It makes me lose my head."

  "I did buy a dress," she admitted, big blue eyes locked on mine. "Just in case you, uh, wanted me to come."

  "That was a wise choice," I confirmed gruffly, heart pounding hard now. "What color did you settle on?"

  "It's red," she whispered, smiling up at me. "Same as your tie."

  "Fuck," I croaked out. "I love red, Shan."

  "Yeah." She bit down on her lip. "I know."

  "So, are you going to come with me?" I asked, losing the will to keep my hands to myself as I pulled her flush against me, hands resting on her waist. "Are you going to be my date, Shannon like the river?"

  Nodding, she wrapped her arms around my neck and grinned. "I'll be your date, Johnny."

  Lowering my face to hers, I pressed a kiss to her lips. "Thank you."

  Shivering, she leaned up on her tip-toes and stroked her nose against mine. "You're welcome."

  "Are you going to clap for me if I win?" I teased, drowning in the smell of her, in the feel of her. "Have you been practicing your 'oh, Johnny, my hero' chants?"

  "You're so full of yourself," Shannon laughed.

  "I wish you were full of me," I purred. "Right now, for example."

  "Stop it," she giggled, blushing. "And you can be sure that I'll be cheering you on when you win Saturday night," she added. "It's in the bag, Mister Rugby."

  My heart jackknifed. "You really think so, Shan?"

  Shannon beamed up at me. "I really know so, Johnny."

  Fuck me…

  I did something incredibly reckless then; I tipped her chin up and kissed her.

  A quick peck, I assured myself.

  Just a peck.

  A reassuring kiss.


  That's not how it played out, though.

  Because I couldn’t pull away.

  I was thoroughly fucked when it came to this girl, and we both knew it.

  "Do you want to go somewhere?" I asked, breaking the kiss, knowing that I was killing the mood with my loaded question, but I had an even bigger loaded problem in my pants that I knew she was aware of. "Before we go home and get cordoned off by my Ma?"

  "Oh, for sure," Shannon agreed in a breathy tone of voice.

  Fucking winning. "The beach?"

  "Let's go."

  Thank you, Jesus…

  I made the right decision when I chose to defer my signing for a year. I knew it the day I sat in the coach's office with my father by my side and I knew it now. Sitting here, with my girlfriend's hand wrapped in mine, and a full year of endless possibilities ahead of me, a deep sense of contentment settled inside of me. I loved the game and I loved her. I could have both – and I would. On my terms. When I was ready.

  "I love you," Shannon said, voicing my thoughts aloud when I parked up at what had become our spot at the beach. It wasn't easy getting time alone these days, what with my meddling mother and her annoying fucking brothers constantly cockblocking me, but like every other obstacle that had been thrown our way this past year, we were making it work.

  Killing the engine, I unfastened my seatbelt and turned to look at her. Almost a year had passed since the first day I laid eyes on her and the sight of her still sucker-punched me in the gut. I didn’t see that changing any time soon. "I love you, too, Shan." It was the truth. I loved her more than I knew what to do with. I could see it all ahead of me; my life, my future, my career, and her. The girl I knew I would play the leading role in all of it. I'd thrown it all in with her and I had no doubts. Not a single one. She was teammate now. My best friend. Of course, I didn’t dream of saying that aloud – Gibsie would have heart failure if he heard such blasphemy.

  "So," Shannon mused, unfastening her seatbelt and turning in her seat to face me. "We have about forty minutes before your mother starts phoning us." She had a devilish smile etched on her face as she slowly unwrapped her scarf from her neck and tossed it into the backseat to join her discarded coat. "What do you want to do?"

  You, Shannon Lynch.

  Always you.

  "I don’t know, Shan." Smirking, I played along. "What do you want me to do?"

  "I want you to put your lips on me," she came right out and said. "I want you to help me get the windows of this fancy-pants Audi all good and steamed up."

  "Well shite," I growled, instantly hard. "That's telling me."

  Blushing, Shannon hitched her skirt up over her thighs and climbed over the seats, settling down on my lap with a contented sigh of approval. "You asked me," she whispered, knotting her fingers in the front of my school jumper. "I'm just better at getting my words out now."

  "Yes, you are," I agreed, tone gruff, as I gripped her hips and rocked her on my lap, reveling in the feel of her body on mine. "You're doing so fucking well, baby." And she was. At school. In life. She was thriving, and I couldn't be prouder of her.

  Shivering into my touch, Shannon trailed her fingers through my hair, driving me insane with that kitten-like touch of hers, before lowering her face to mine. "Johnny?"

  My heart hammered violently against my ribcage as I watched her watch me, brows touching. "Yeah, Shan?"

  "I'm keeping you," she told me, and there was a confidence in her voice that was slowly growing with each passing day. "You're mine," she added, as a ghost of a smile teased her full lips. "For keeps."

  "Thank fuck for that," was all I could come up with before I lost the battle with my self-control and crashed my lips to hers.

  Glossary

  Bluey: Porno movie.

  Jammiest: luckiest

  Corker: beautiful woman.

  St. Stephen's Day: Boxing Day/ December 26th.

  Bonnet: hood of the car.

  Boot: trunk of the car.

  Pound Shop: Dollar store.

  Messages: groceries.

  Mickey/Willy: penis.

  Spanner: idiot.

  Hole: often said instead of ass/bottom.

  Solicitor: lawyer.

  Daft: silly.

  Daft as a brush: very silly.

  Wheelie Bin: Trash can.

  Jumper: sweater.

  Cracking on: hooking up.

  Runners: trainers/sneakers.

  Wellies: rubber boots worn in the rain.

  On the hop: skipping school.

  Cooker: Oven/Stove/Hob.

  Eejit: fool/idiot.

  Gobshite: fool/idiot.

  Lifted: arrested.

  Rebel County: nickname for County Cork.

  Primary School: elementary school – junior infants to sixth class.

  Secondary School: high school – first year to sixth year.

  Leaving Cert: the compulsory state exam you take in your final year of secondary school.

  Junior Cert: the compulsory state exam you take in third year – midway through your six-year cycle of secondary school.

  Playschool: pre-school/nursery.

  Junior Infants: equivalent to kindergarten.

  Senior Infants: equivalent to second year of kindergarten.

  First Class: equivalent to first grade.

  Second Class: equivalent to second grade.

  Third Class: equivalent to third grade.

  Fourth Class: equivalent to fourth grade.

  Fifth Class: equivalent to fifth grade.

  Sixth Class: equivalent to sixth grade.

  First Year: equivalent to seventh grade.

  Second Year: equivalent to eighth grade.

  Third Year: equivalent to ninth grade.

  Fourth Year: Transition Year: equivalent to tenth grade.

  Fifth Year: equivalent to eleventh grade.

  Sixth Year: equivalent to twelfth grade.

  GAA: Gaelic Athletic Association

  Culchie: a person from the countryside or a county outside of Dublin. Usually used as a friendly insult.

  Jackeen: a person from Dublin. A term sometimes used by people from other counties in Ireland to refer to a person from Dublin.

  Dub: a person from Dublin.

  Frigit: someone who has never been kissed.

  Gardaí Síochána: Irish police force.

  Garda: policeman.

  Hurling: a hugely popular, amateur Irish sport played with wooden hurleys and sliotars.

  Camogie: the female version of Hurling.

  Scoil Eoin: the name of Johnny's primary school.

  Grinds: Tutoring.

  Fortnight: two weeks.

  Chipper: a restaurant that sells fast food.

  Craic: fun.

  Gas: funny.

  Mope: idiot.

  The Angelus: Every evening at 6pm in Ireland, there is a minute silence for prayer on the television.

  On the lash: going out drinking.

  On the piss: going out drinking.

  Swat: nerd.

  Spanner: idiot.

  Yolk: nickname for an illegal drug.

  Hatchet craic: Great fun.

  Langer: idiot.

  Fanny: Vagina.

  Scoring: Kissing.

  Shifting: Kissing.

  Shifting Jackets: Lucky piece of clothing, usually a jacket, when trying to pick up a girl.

  Langers: group of idiots and/or extremely drunk.

  Tog off: change into or out of training clothes.

  Child of Prague: a religious statue farmers place out in a field to encourage good weather. (An old Irish superstition)

  Rosary, Removal, Burial: the three days of a Catholic funeral in Ireland.

  Spuds: potatoes.

  A slab of beer: a box of 24 bottles of beer.

  Get your hole: have sex.

  Strop: mood-swing/pouting/sulking.

  je veux lécher la chatte de ma copine: I want to lick my girlfriend's pussy.

  je veux être à l'i
ntérieur de toi: I want to be inside you.

  Pronunciations

  Aoife: E-fa

  Tadhg: Tie-g

  Sean: Shawn

  Saoirse: Seer-sha

  Sinead: Shin-aid

  Gardaí: Gar-Dee

  Sadhbh: Sigh-v

  Seamus: Shay-Mus

  Playlist for Shannon

  Thompson Square – Are You Gonna Kiss Me Or Not

  Katie Thompson – Heaven Is A Place On Earth

  Maria McKee – Show Me Heaven

  Dynoro & Gigi D'Agostino – In My Mind

  Adele – River Lea

  Fleetwood Mac – Everywhere

  Boy & Bear – Fall at Your Feet

  Codi Kaye – You're Not Innocent

  Cher – The Shoop Shoop Song

  Joshua Radin – Here Comes the Sun

  Astroline – Close My Eyes

  Adele – One and Only

  Sia – Breathe Me

  Raign – Knocking On Heaven's Door

  Natalie Merchant – My Skin

  Carly Rae Jepson – I Really Like You

  Nora Jones – Come Away With Me

  The Fray – You Found Me

  Imelda May – Johnny Got a Boom Boom

  Jessica Simpson – With You

  Robyn – Dancing On My Own.

  Natasha Bedingfield – Wild Horses

  Hayley Williams – Airplanes

  Paramore – The Only Exception

  Lady Gaga – Paparazzi

  Pink – Family Portrait

  Madonna – Crazy For You

  The Corrs – Runaway

  Miley Cyrus – Malibu

  Hunter Hayes – Invisible

  Camilla Cabello – Consequences

  Taylor Swift – Love Story

  Anne-Marie – 2002

  Celine Dion – A New Day Has Come

  The Chainsmokers – Don’t Let Me Down

  Kate Nash – Nicest Thing

  Haley Reinhart – Can't Help Falling In Love

  Rachel Platten – Stand by You

  Anne-Marie – Alarm

  Paramore – Still into You

  Katrina and the Waves – Walking on Sunshine

  Anna Nalick – Breathe (2am)

  Playlist for Johnny

  Gavin James – Always

  Maroon 5 – Lips On You