Binding_13_Boys of Tommen

by Chloe Walsh

  "I'm fine." Walking over to the beanbag next to his, I sank down beside him, only to hiss when a sharp pain rocketed up my pelvis. "Absolutely fucking fine."

  Gibsie shook his head and reached for the remote control, thankfully keeping his thoughts to himself for once.

  Flicking on the television, he began to channel surf. "What do you want to watch?"

  "You can go out," I told him, stretching my legs out in front of me. "I'm not holding you back."

  "Nah." Standing up, he walked over to the PS2 and switched it on before settling back down beside me. "I was only trying to get you out of the house."

  "Appreciate it," I muttered, taking the controller he held out for me. "But not tonight."

  "You're going to make that team, Johnny," he mumbled as he set up a game of FIFA 05. "You know that, right?"

  Exhaling a steadying breath, I forced the panic threatening to engulf me back down and concentrated on the screen in front of me.

  "You will," he added quietly.

  "I hope so," I bit out, focusing way too hard on the controller in my hand. "I really fucking do, Gibs."

  Otherwise, I was going to lose my mind.

  "Do you want to get drunk?" he offered then. "Here – with your Da's whiskey, and no clingers following you around and tormenting you?"

  I thought about it for a minute and exhaled a heavy sigh.

  "Yeah, lad," I replied with a nod. "I really fucking do."

  23

  Exes and hell no's

  Johnny

  I saw her again today.

  We passed each other no less than five times in the hallway, and every single time she put her head down and walked past me without so much as a backwards glance.

  This wasn’t a new thing of course.

  Shannon had been brushing me off like I was invisible for over a week now.

  Nine days to be precise.

  Being ignored didn’t sit well with me.

  It was unfamiliar territory to me and I was quickly learning that I didn’t like it one bit.

  Especially when the person ignoring me was the very same one who was tormenting my every waking thought – my dreams, too.

  That's right; I was actually fucking dreaming about the girl now.

  How messed up was that?

  Last night, for instance, I dreamt that Shannon was watching me play.

  Except instead of being on the school pitch, we were at the Aviva Stadium in Dublin.

  And instead of wearing Tommen's black and white, I was wearing green and white.

  Shannon had on a matching Irish jersey, with my name and number on the back, and she was cheering for me in the stands.

  I was thrown the ball but when I caught it, Shannon began to cry.

  For real, her face was contorted in pain and she was pointing at me.

  That's when it got really disturbing because when I looked down, my legs were gone.

  In their place were two stumps.

  Then I began to shrink away, shriveling up like the creepy guy in the Harry Potter books.

  Shannon's distraught face was the last thing I saw before I jerked awake.

  It was fucking horrendous.

  I woke up in a bog of sweat and had spent a solid five minutes patting my legs to assure my panicked mind that they were still there.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a warning sign.

  Of what, I had no idea, but I had this god-awful feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach that wouldn’t go away.

  That feeling had stuck with me all day.

  I couldn’t seem to shake it off.

  I couldn’t shake her off.

  None of this made any sense to me, and I had no goddamn clue why she was the person I wanted to go to.

  Not Gibs.

  Not my Ma.

  Not my coaches.

  I was freaking the fuck out inside, worrying myself half to death over the summer campaign, and it was a girl I barely knew, with soul deep eyes, that I wanted to confide in.

  Because something told me I could.

  Because somewhere deep down inside of me, I felt like she knew me.

  Like she could save me?

  Jesus, I was losing my bleeding mind…

  After a disastrous last class on Friday – where I had retained not one iota of what the teacher had been prattling on about – I was heading out of the main building towards the P.E hall to catch up with Coach, when I heard a familiar voice call out my name.

  For a split second, I debated pretending I hadn't heard her and walking out the door, but then she grabbed my hand and tugged me backwards, and manners won out.

  Inhaling a steadying breath, I mentally reminded myself to be nice, before turning around to face her.

  "Bella," I acknowledged with a curt nod.

  She looked just as good as she always did, with her black hair styled into a bob and a full face of makeup.

  She was tall and curved and filled her school uniform in all the right places.

  Fortunately, I was completely unaffected.

  "Hey, Johnny," Bella replied with a massive smile. She was tall, 5'11, but she still had to crane her head up to look at me. "How are you?"

  The words 'like you give a shite', were on the tip of my tongue, but I toned my impatience down and went with, "What's up?" instead.

  "Oh, you know, the usual," she replied, tucking her dark hair behind her ears.

  Actually, I didn’t know.

  I didn’t know anything about her and she knew even less about me.

  We didn’t talk.

  We fucked.

  And that had been her decision more than it had been mine.

  "I was coming out of the office and saw you walking outside," Bella continued to say, trailing her thumb over my wrist. "So I thought I'd come say hi."

  Freeing my hand from hers, I shoved my hands into my pockets and rocked back on my heels. "Hi."

  "I feel like we haven't talked in so long," she added.

  I glared at her. "We talked a few weeks ago."

  When you were trying to force yourself on me.

  And let's not forget about the million fucking messages and voicemails you've left me.

  "We did?"

  I narrowed my eyes. "Yeah, Bella, we did."

  "Oh god," she giggled, acting all coy. "I was completely wasted that night," she added. "I hardly remember a thing." She took a step closer. "I definitely don’t remember seeing you that night."

  I stepped back. "Well, you did."

  I wasn’t buying this convenient lack of memory bullshit.

  She'd played that card too many times with me.

  "Anyway, that's not what I meant." She tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled up at me. "I was talking about the last time we met up. It has to have been before Christmas, right?"

  More like Halloween, I thought to myself, but I was eager to get away so I didn’t object to her dates. Instead I nodded and said, "Yeah, that sounds about right," while wishing I knew the appropriate etiquette to use when dealing with vindictive girls I'd been foolish enough to stick my dick inside.

  "So," she said in a breathy tone. "How have you been?"

  "You already asked me that," I replied evenly, trying to mask my impatience at the pointless chitchat. "I'm fine."

  "Oh yeah, well I'm fine, too," Bella replied, exhaling a loud sigh. "I mean, I guess I'm a little bored."

  Yeah, well I was bored, too.

  With this conversation.

  "You know how it is," she said for the second time, and for the second time I stared blankly back at her.

  Nope.

  I had no clue what the fuck she was talking about.

  "Oh my god!" she blurted then, clutching my hand once more. "I totally forgot to ask; how's your leg?"

  Bella didn’t know the ins and outs of my surgery, only that I'd had a procedure done at Christmas.

  When I told her that I would be out of action for a while, her biggest concern had been how soon I wo
uld be back on the pitch, whether or not I'd still get to play for Ireland in the summer, and when did I want to fuck again.

  Besides all that, I didn’t trust her in that way.

  Having sex with her was one thing but confiding in her was quite another.

  "Better," I replied in a flat tone before reclaiming my hand.

  "That's fantastic news, babe," she replied, smiling widely. "I've been really worried about you."

  No, she bleeding well hadn't been.

  If at any point Bella had been truly worried about me, she would have asked me something other than 'are you ready to meet up' or 'hurry up, I'm horny' in the bazillion texts she'd sent me.

  She wouldn’t have fucked me over like she had with one of my teammates.

  "I bet," I drawled, hearing the sarcasm in my own voice.

  Now, I got that at no point during the time Bella and I had been messing around had we ever been anything remotely serious, but I still felt betrayed by the Cormac thing.

  In my eyes, it was shady as fuck on both their parts, and I would never go off with one of her friends.

  I had enough respect for her to show her that decency.

  Obviously, Bella didn’t have the same level of respect for me.

  I glanced over her shoulder towards the door and then at my watch before asking, "Did you need anything else? I have to talk to coach about a game."

  "Oh yeah," she sighed. "You have the playoff match coming up, don’t you?"

  I nodded stiffly.

  Unfortunately, because we had lost a couple of matches earlier in the season, and Royce College from Dublin had won their game last week, it brought them level in points with us and put us in joint second place in the league, behind Levitt.

  It was an unexpected turn of events and a pain in the arse because Royce should have lost their last game, which would have made life easier for us considering the final had already been organized between Levitt and Tommen.

  Their win had thrown a spanner in the works for Tommen because Royce were an awkward fucking bunch and were refusing to allow the playoff to be held in Cork. We'd travelled for the last three league games so it was our turn to play at home, but they weren't having it.

  Already, they had pulled out of two other proposed dates for the play off – one in Cork and one in Dublin.

  It was a mind-fucking stunt they were pulling in the hopes of tripping us up and clashing with match schedules.

  They were contesting everything from the time of kick off, to the day of the week the match should be held, to the color of the away jerseys.

  Switching days, pulling matches forward, and changing venues was all within Royce's right, but it was a scummy thing to do and few schools ever behaved that way.

  The coach at Royce was being difficult, arguing on where the match should be held, and cribbing and grousing over the fairness of Tommen's team having an international player on the squad.

  The eejit was clutching at straws because I was fair game.

  Tommen was my school and Coach was well within his rights to play me.

  I would have been Royce's international player had my folks stayed in Dublin, and that was the real issue here.

  It was because of this that Coach wanted to talk to me pronto.

  He wanted to go through my upcoming schedule because he needed to agree to a date.

  We were breaking up from school next Friday for Easter holidays so this needed to happen sooner rather than later.

  I had the summer campaign to focus on and scouts to impress, so April and May wouldn’t work for me.

  Royce's coach knew this, too, which was why we were at a standstill.

  I might find the school league boring and unchallenging, but I fucking hated sore losers.

  It was with that in mind, that I had plans on burying Royce College at the earliest convenience.

  "When are you guys playing them?" Bella asked.

  "As soon as possible."

  "You're going to be playing against your old teammates and friends, aren’t you?" she asked. "You were supposed to go to Royce, weren't you?"

  "I'm here now, aren’t I," I drawled.

  "Are you worried about playing your old friends?"

  Yes.

  "No."

  "So you're ready for it?"

  I stared blankly at her. "I'm always ready."

  "I know you are," she purred, tone flirtatious.

  Ugh.

  Shaking my head, I turned to leave but she spoke again.

  "I also wanted to talk to you about something else," she added, taking a step closer.

  "Oh?" I stepped back. "What's that?"

  "Us, Johnny," she purred, batting her big blue eyes up at me.

  "There is no us, Bella," I replied, frowning. "There never was."

  "Then what the fuck were we doing for the past year, Johnny?" she spat, the innocent school girl mask slipping.

  That was cool.

  I knew what was underneath anyway.

  She didn’t need to put on a performance in front of me.

  I was well aware of her true colors.

  "I don’t know, Bella," I replied in a flat tone. "But whatever it was, it's in the past."

  "Are you fucking with me?" she demanded, planting her hands on her hips. "I'm trying to sort things out here."

  Was she fucking with me?

  "You ended it," I deadpanned. "You are fucking my teammate, Bella. You told me so yourself." With great detail in a text message. "You got with him at Biddies. Right in front of me. You sit with him at lunch. As far as I'm concerned, there is nothing to sort out between us."

  "It's not serious,"

  "I don’t care."

  "I thought we were taking a break."

  "We are," I confirmed. "A permanent one."

  "I don’t have to be with him," she offered, batting her long eyelashes at me. "We could sort us out?"

  "No thanks," I replied in a flat tone.

  "Come on, Johnny," she moaned. "We had a good time together."

  "Yeah, we did," I agreed. "Half of which you spent running around behind my back with my fucking winger!"

  Her mouth fell open. "What are you talking about?"

  "Cormac."

  "I'm with him now," she huffed. "Not then."

  "Don’t bother lying," I told her. "I already know you were riding him when you were with me."

  "That's a lie," she countered. "Who told you that?"

  "Everyone knows, Bella," I replied, then released a weary sigh. "I've known for a while."

  I just chose to block it out…

  "And you were hardly discreet," I decided to throw out there because quite frankly, I wanted to.

  "Well, I wasn’t your girlfriend, Johnny. We weren't exclusive," she defended her actions by saying. "And you completely dropped off the map. You never wanted to go out or meet up."

  "Because I was recovering from surgery!" I bit out.

  "For months?" she demanded, tone accusing. "Yeah right, Johnny."

  "I was," I barked.

  I still am.

  "And before that?" she demanded. "What about the other six long weeks before your surgery when you refused to meet up with me? When you ignored me. What's your excuse for that?"

  "I wasn’t ignoring you."

  "Yes, you were!"

  "No, I fucking wasn’t. I just couldn’t get –" snapping my mouth shut, I shook my head and forced myself to hold my tongue.

  Do not fight with girls, I reminded myself.

  You'll never win.

  They'll twist your words.

  "You weren't giving me what I wanted," she continued to torment me by saying. "You weren't giving me enough attention! All those award ceremonies and balls in Dublin last year and never once did you invite me to go," she hissed. "You never wanted me there."

  "Because you were never my girlfriend," I countered, throwing her earlier words back at her.

  "Because you never asked me to be your girlfriend, Johnny," she spat. />
  "No, Bella, because you never wanted me," I shot back. "You only wanted the shiny part of my life. The fame. You were never interested in the real part. The real me."

  "That's not true!" she argued.

  "Why don’t you just tell it straight, Bella," I hissed, losing control of my temper. "You fucked off with Ryan because you thought I wasn’t going to be match fit. You saw I was out on injury, you thought I wouldn’t make it back in time for the summer campaign, so you went after the next best thing just to be safe."

  She blushed.

  I knew it!

  "Ask me now," she urged, closing the space between us. "Ask me to do all those things and I will."

  "I don’t want to ask you," I bit out, unhooking her arms from around my neck.

  "Johnny, come on," she sighed. "Don’t be like this."

  "Go on back to Cormac," I deadpanned, thoroughly disgusted. "And pray he makes it up the ranks in The Academy so he can take you to all those fancy awards parties you want to attend. He's you're only shot at getting there now, Bella, because we're done."

  "I was hurt, Johnny," she strangled out. "I got with Cormac because I wanted to hurt you back."

  "Hurt me back?" I balked. "For what exactly? Getting injured? Being stuck on my back for weeks while you rode my friend behind my back? Messing up your chances of fancy fucking dinner parties?" I shook my head and sneered at her, regretting touching her with every fiber of my being. "Jesus, I'm an awful, inconsiderate bastard."

  "For ignoring me," she hissed, cheeks turning pink. "For using me."

  "Me using you?" I balked. "Yeah, because that's what was happening."

  "That's how you made me feel, Johnny!"

  "Then I'm sorry!" I snapped back, striving for patience in the eye of this girl-induced, mind-fucking shitstorm.

  "You have to have feelings to be sorry, Johnny," she retorted. "And you are heartless!"

  Keep the head.

  Take it on the chin.

  And then get the hell away from her.

  Inhaling a calming breath, I exhaled slowly before saying, "Bella, I am sorry if at any point I made you feel ignored or used. That was not my intention. I sincerely apologize for my lack of heart and feelings and wish you nothing but the best for all your future endeavors with my teammate. Now, if you don’t mind, I am tired of going around in circles with you and have actual shit to do."