by Chloe Walsh
"I look brilliant?" he asked as he watched me with interest, a small smile still teasing his lips.
"In brilliant condition," I quickly corrected and then cleared my throat several times, buying myself some time to scramble for a lie, before finding one and adding, "considering you're carrying such a bad injury."
A flash of panic lit his eyes for the briefest of moments before the shutters clamped shut.
And just like that, the playful, tender version of Johnny was gone.
"Don’t go there, Shannon," he warned, his smiling lips flattened into a thin line, as his entire body visibly tensed. He looked around, noting the line of students all piling onto the bus, before turning his attention back to me. "And especially not here."
His reaction was like a smack in the face.
"Are you okay?" I asked, hating how uncertain I sounded. "You know I didn’t mean –"
"I'm fine," he finished for me. "And I know. It's okay. I just…I can't...please forget it."
Rejection and dismissal were never nice feelings to endure, which was exactly what happened to me whenever I foolishly opened myself up to this boy.
He had a knack for building me up with words and smiles and false hope, only to crush me with silence.
It hurt more than it should.
It crushed me.
Several students filed back into the bus then, and their loud chattering distracted us both.
"About fucking time," Johnny muttered under his breath.
Shrinking away from his sudden change of mood, I concentrated on the line of students all piling back into the bus.
Several lads from the team passed by our seat then, stopping to clap Johnny on the shoulder as they went.
He ignored them all, keeping his attention glued to the sheet of paper in his hands.
"Exchanging love letters?" Gibsie taunted as he made his descent to the back of the bus. "How romantic!"
"Go fuck yourself, Gibs," Johnny shot back, sounding irritated, as he folded up the note and shoved it in his pocket. "I'm not in the form for your shite today."
"Yeah, well, I'd tell you go fuck yourself right back, but I can see you already have that sorted," Gibsie called back with a laugh.
His comment received plenty of attention from other students who decided to jump on the bandwagon and toss out suggestive comments.
"See that, lads? They stayed on the bus when we were inside."
"He wasn’t hungry for what they had in the shop."
"Hup out that!"
"Gowan, Johnny boy!"
"Get in there, kid!"
Anxious, I stretched up to flag Claire and Lizzie, praying one of them would switch seats with me, but quickly sank back in my seat when my eyes landed on Ronan McGarry two rows up on the opposite side of the bus. Another dozen rows up was Bella.
Feeling trapped, I looked to Johnny, who had turned in his seat, and was exchanging verbal insults with the lads in the back row behind us.
"He scores on the pitch, he scores on the bus. How many tries did you hammer into her goal line, Johnny?"
I flamed in embarrassment and dropped my head, quickly learning that spending any amount of time with Johnny meant being on the receiving end of a lot of attention.
Unwanted attention.
I didn’t quite catch what was said next, but Johnny leapt out of his seat and stalked to the back of the bus, so I presumed it was of the explicit variety.
I didn’t dare look.
Instead, I kept my head down and my gaze trained on my trembling hands.
"The fuck you say about her?"
"I was messing – ah, fuck, stop! Jesus, relax! It was a joke."
"Am I laughing, Robbie?"
"Relax, Cap."
"Am I fucking laughing, asshole?"
"No. Christ – ouch! Stop."
"Do you think she's laughing?"
"No."
"No," Johnny sneered. "Don’t push me again, ya little culchie bollox."
"Sorry."
"Say it again."
"I'm sorry, Johnny –"
"To her!" Johnny roared, loud enough that it drew the attention of the entire bus. "Apologize to her. Now."
"Sorry, Shannon," a chorus of male voices called out.
"Um, that's okay?" I offered back, because what the hell else could I do?
"Fucking eejits," Johnny growled when he reclaimed his seat beside me a minute later.
Nudging my leg with his, he drew my attention back to him.
"Don’t mind them," he said in a low tone. "That's about me, not you, okay?"
Nodding, I blew out a shaky breath, and turned to look out the window.
He hurt me.
He dismissed me.
And then he jumped right in and defended my honor.
And now?
Now, I was so confused that it was hurting my brain.
The bus roared to life a few minutes later and we were back on the road.
Mrs. Moore called for everyone's attention then and announced reflection time.
I was never so relieved to hear those words.
Sitting in the silence, I tried to work through my rampant emotions.
"Shannon, I'm sorry."
Startled, I turned to look at Johnny, wondering if I was hearing things, only to find him looking straight back at me with an expectant expression. "What?"
"I'm a prick." Johnny shook his head and exhaled a frustrated breath. "I tell you to trust me and then I turn around and act like that?" he hurried to explain, only to stumble over his next hurdle of words, "I shouldn’t…It's just that…I never normally…I don’t…You're the only girl I've –" He blew out a breath and gestured between us before finally saying, "I'm not good at this, Shannon."
"Not good at what?" Now it was my turn to look confused. "Talking? Because you don’t have to talk about it. I didn’t ask you to."
"You're not hearing me," he snapped, then shook his head, looking annoyed with himself. "No. I'm not saying this right."
"Saying what right?"
Johnny ran a frustrated hand through his hair and expelled a harsh breath.
"I overreacted," he finally said.
"Yeah," I replied flatly. "You're pretty good at that."
Disappointed, I folded my arms across my chest and then turned back towards the window, but he grabbed my arm, pulling me back to face him.
"Don’t do that," he said, voice low and gruff, keeping his hand on my arm.
I released a trembling breath, forcing my body not to spazz out from the contact, and asked, "Do what?"
"Block me out."
"Pot meet kettle," I snapped, turning my face away.
"You can't ignore me," Johnny pushed, trying for humor. "We have a friendship contract."
I wasn’t laughing.
"Then rip it up," I told him, then yanked my arm free.
"Shannon, let me explain."
"Leave me alone."
"Shannon, come on –"
"No."
"Look at me."
I folded my arms across my chest. "No."
Johnny sighed. "Shannon, please."
"I said no!" I snapped. "You did this to me in your car and you're doing it again now. That's a pattern. I don’t like those kinds of patterns. So, no!"
Johnny released a frustrated growl.
Seconds later, I felt his hand on my neck as he leaned over my seat and pulled my body sideways to face him.
Stunned, I could do nothing but stare up at him. "Wh-what are you doing?"
Johnny's eyes were wild and heated, panicked and interested, as they flickered from my eyes to my lips.
For the briefest of moments, I thought he was about to kiss me.
But he didn’t.
Of course, he didn’t.
Instead, he released a ragged breath, cupped the side of my neck, bringing me closer, and touched his cheek to mine.
Pressing his lips to my ear, in a voice barely more than a whisper, he said, "I'm scared, Shannon."
"Scared?"
I felt him nod, his stubbly cheek rubbing against mine.
"Of what?"
"You."
"Me?" My heart flipped in my chest. "Why?"
"What I told you that night?" he whispered, gently clutching the side of my neck with his huge hand. "All that shite about my surgery and how much pain I'm in? I'm furious with myself for losing my head and telling you something that can be used against me. I gave you power over me and now I'm fucking panicking, okay? I lost my cool with you in the car because you struck a nerve. Because you called me out on my bullshit. Because you were right."
"I was?"
He nodded and the movement caused his cheek to rub against mine.
"I'm not thick," he continued to whisper. "I know what I'm risking by playing, but I have everything riding on the next fifteen months – on my body holding out. It's my career," he told me, voice barely audible.
His words were coming so low and fast, mixed with a thickening Dublin accent, that it was a struggle to keep up.
"It’s my future, and I can't bear to watch it slip through my fingers. I've worked too hard to get to this position to let it all go. They're making me take a test, Shannon. I haven't told anyone about it. And if don’t pass it – if they find out I'm not a hundred percent – they'll pull me and I'll be out for months, Shannon. Months. It mightn’t seem like a big deal to you, but for me, it's my life. I'll miss my shot with the u20's in June. I'll miss everything. I'll lose everything. That can't fucking happen."
His lips brushed against my earlobe as he spoke.
It wasn’t an intentional move or remotely flirtatious, he was clearly agitated, but I still had to suppress a shiver at the contact.
"And you knowing all of this? Me telling you? Knowing that it could be held over me?" Johnny sighed heavily, his warm breath fanning the curve of my jawline. "I don’t do that, Shannon. I don’t make myself vulnerable to anyone. Ever." His fingers trembled against my neck as he spoke. "And it scares the shite out of me that I've handed that kind of power over to you."
"Then why did you do it?" I asked, as a small shudder rolled down my spine.
Leaning back so that I could look at his face, I asked, "Why did you tell me?"
He looked so helpless as he shrugged.
"I've been asking myself the same question for a long time and I still don’t have an answer, Shannon," he croaked out, tormented blue eyes locked on mine. "I don’t understand what's happening between us."
I realized that I was witnessing a rare moment of vulnerability from Johnny, and my heart could barely take the pressure.
Seeing him like this…so exposed and unguarded?
It did something to me.
Made me feel protective.
Like I needed to nurture him or something, which was insane because one look at the boy and it was obvious he didn’t need anyone's protection.
But I still felt it.
I watched him watch me for the longest moment, soaking in his defeated expression and the way he looked down at me almost hopefully, like I had the answers to all his questions.
I didn’t.
The right thing to do would be to comfort him with words of assurance.
I didn’t do that.
Instead, I whispered my truth.
"I don’t want you to play." Throwing caution to the wind and moving on instinct, I tucked my legs beneath me, shifted closer, and pressed my lips to his ear. "Not today, and not tomorrow. I don’t want you to go out there and put yourself in harm's way, Johnny. I don’t want you to get hurt. I want you to stop. I want you to rest your body. I want you to take care of yourself."
"Shannon–"
"Let me finish," I whispered.
He nodded stiffly.
Trembling, I reached up and cupped his jaw. "I meant it when I told you that I wouldn’t tell anyone."
I felt his body turn rigid, but I didn’t move away, the need to comfort him pushing me forward.
"I don’t agree with your choices," I croaked out. "But I respect that they are yours to make."
Something inside of this boy called to me.
I had no idea what that something was, but it made me brave.
It made me want to step out of my comfort zone and help him – even if helping him meant doing the wrong thing.
"I can keep a secret, Johnny Kavanagh," I whispered, stroking his cheek with my fingers. "And I promise I'll keep yours."
With his hand still cupping the side of my neck, Johnny exhaled a heavy sigh and let his head fall forward, his hair brushing my neck.
"I'm in so much pain, Shannon," he confessed, tone thick and gruff. "All the time," he added, covering my hand with his. "It hurts so bad I can hardly sleep at night. I can't concentrate for shit at school. I'm fucking up on the pitch. In training. Everything's going to hell, and the only person I can talk to about it is a girl I barely know." Exhaling a heavy breath, he pulled me closer. "You're the only thing that distracts me, the only thing I can concentrate on, and I don’t even know you. I feel closer to you than my own teammates. I'm telling you things I wouldn’t tell my best friend. How fucked up is that?"
"It's not fucked up." My heart was hammering so hard against my ribcage that it was making my breathing come hard and fast. "It's okay."
"It's not okay," Johnny refuted, burying his face in my neck. "Not one bleeding thing about what's going on in my life right now is okay."
One moment, he had his face buried in my neck and the next he was gone.
"Fuck," Johnny growled, jerking away from me like I had scalded him. "Fuck!" he repeated, running a hand through his hair. "I did it again. I did it a-fucking-gain."
Stunned, I remained on my knees, watching his every move.
"Is there any chance of you forgetting everything I just said?" he asked in a half-hearted tone, as he looked at me, eyes burning with desperation.
Unable to form words, I just stared back at him, shaking my head.
I couldn’t pretend.
Not anymore.
"No." Johnny agreed glumly and rubbed his face with his palm, "Didn’t think so."
The reasoning behind my next statement was based on basic, human instinct rather than thought, encouraged by the desperate need I had inside of my chest to stop this boy from hurting.
"I was bullied," I blurted out, startling us both with the admission.
I wanted to put him at ease, and the only way I could think of making that happen was to give him a deeply private confession of my own.
"Badly," I clarified, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Johnny's eyes locked on mine. "At your old school?"
"Yes." I nodded, and then shook my head. "Not just at BCS. It happened everywhere."
"Everywhere?" Johnny repeated slowly, brows furrowed deeply.
"Everywhere," I confirmed, biting down on my lip to stop it from wobbling.
"For how long?" he finally asked, shifting his body back to face me.
"My whole life," I offered wearily, forcing myself to keep eye contact. "I can't remember a time when I wasn’t hated by everyone."
"What?" he balked, sounding horrified. "No! Shannon, you shouldn’t be thinking like that–"
"It's the truth, Johnny," I was quick to clarify. "I'm unlikable. It's a fact. Plain and simple."
"That's bullshit," he growled. "You're not unlikable."
"It's not bullshit," I countered. "I am unlikeable."
"I like you," Johnny shot back without an ounce of hesitation.
Well, I love you, Johnny Kavanagh!
Even though you're leaving.
Even though you don’t feel the same.
Even though loving you is going to break my heart.
I love you with everything I have.
And I probably always will.
"Well, that makes you one of very few." I exhaled a shaky breath. "I was hated growing up, Johnny! Seriously hated. Nobody wanted to play with me. Nobody wanted me on their team i
n P.E., or to sit with me in class, and I was never invited to the other children's birthday parties. I was constantly picked on. For my hair. For my size. My clothes. My secondhand school books. The car my family owned. The terrace I came from. For breathing. It didn’t matter what I did or how hard I tried to get along with the other children, they always found a fault in me." I shook my head and sighed wearily. "I've had two friends my entire life. That's it."
"Claire Biggs and Pierce Ó Neill's girlfriend?" Johnny asked, voice gravelly.
"Lizzie Young," I confirmed with a nod. "Yeah, they went to my primary school, and honestly, if it wasn’t for them, I would have been completely alone."
"But they moved on to Tommen after primary school?"
"They did."
"And you went to BCS?"
"Yeah," I croaked out.
Bewilderment was etched on Johnny's face, like this was hard for him to comprehend.
And for a guy like him, it probably was.
He wasn’t short of friends or adoring fangirls.
He was popular and a big star.
He didn’t have the faintest idea of what it felt like to be on the other side of the popularity spectrum.
Where I resided.
Johnny's tone was careful when he asked, "It was the same for you there?"
"No." Inhaling a steadying breath, I continued to open myself up for danger. "It was worse."
Johnny was silent for a long moment before asking, "They hurt you there?"
Repressing a shudder, I forced a small nod.
"Shannon?"
"Every day," I confessed.
"Christ," he practically snarled as he ran a hand through his hair. "No wonder your Ma lost it on me that day."
I sighed heavily. "It wasn’t the first trip from school to the A&E."
"Jesus." He blew out a harsh breath and pulled me closer. "How bad did it get?"
I shrugged helplessly, unable to get the words out, or maybe I was just unwilling to verbalize the trauma.
I wanted it gone from my memory.
I wanted that part of my life erased forever.
"Shannon?" Johnny pressed, tone achingly soft, as he tugged me so close that my knees touched his thigh. Keeping one arm hooked around my back, he leaned closer and repeated his earlier question. "How bad did it get?"
To the point that I wanted to die.
"Bad enough that my Mam had to bury herself in debt to transfer me to Tommen," I admitted, my voice barely audible. "And bad enough that I let her do it," I added, forcing myself to look at him and hating the sympathetic expression I found him wearing.