Binding_13_Boys of Tommen

by Chloe Walsh

  "Those girls?" he asked then. "At the pub?"

  I nodded. "Ciara was the worst."

  His eyes darkened. "The blonde one."

  I nodded weakly. "I couldn’t go back to BCS after Christmas. Too much had happened, and it was getting out of hand."

  "Getting out of hand?" Johnny stared hard at me. "Surely it had been out of hand for years."

  "Oh, I know," I agreed. "But it was really starting to affect my brother and my parents were worried."

  "Your brother," Johnny replied flatly.

  "Yeah." I nodded. "Joey was constantly getting suspended for fighting over me. He already had four suspensions because of me by Christmas, and Mam was petrified that he was going to get himself expelled in his leaving cert year. Dad was furious because he thought Joey's behavior would cost him his spot on the minors. It was a total nightmare." Shrugging, I exhaled a heavy sigh and said, "In the end, Mam convinced our father that it would be better for Joey if they pulled me from BCS."

  "What about you?" Johnny asked, blue eyes locked on mine. "Was it better for you?"

  "It was the best decision that was ever made for me," I replied without hesitation.

  "And Tommen?" Johnny pressed, his entire focus on me. "How's that for you?"

  "Aside from the Ronan trouble, I haven't had any problems at Tommen," I replied honestly, cheeks burning under his keen observation. "Oh, and Bella threatening war on me for talking to you."

  "And this?" He trailed his fingers over my neck, blue eyes scorching me. "I need to know about this."

  I shivered into his touch. "I told you."

  "Don’t lie to me," he coaxed.

  "Then don’t make me," I pleaded, knowing that I was giving everything away to him – my heart, my secrets, my trust – and was unable to stop. "Please don’t push me."

  "Shannon –" he started and then quickly stopped. He stared hard at me for a long moment before finally nodding. "For now."

  I sagged in relief. "Thank you."

  "But I'm going to find out," he whispered. "Whether you tell me or not." He stroked my cheek with his thumb. "I'll find out and I'll make them suffer."

  My heart seized in my chest.

  I knew this.

  He wasn’t going to let it go.

  I could see it in his eyes that night in his bedroom.

  Johnny Kavanagh was hell bent on exposing my secrets.

  "And Bella won't do shit," Johnny continued, tone gruff, eyes heated and intense, "If she goes to war with you, then she goes to war with me, too."

  "I don’t like war or confrontation," I replied nervously, panicking at the thought of his terrifying ex and the damage she was capable of causing me. "I don’t want her to hate me, Johnny. I didn’t do anything wrong."

  "She's threatened by you," he said gruffly. "Her reaction to you is based on jealousy."

  "Threatened by me?" I shook my head. "Why?"

  "Because you're beautiful," he stated, causing my cheeks to flush a deep shade of pink.

  A boy had never called me beautiful before.

  Not like this.

  Not with such forwardness.

  Not with such sincerity.

  Johnny said it, though, and my heart was flapping around in my chest like a demented, caged bird, fighting to escape.

  He cleared his throat then, looking slightly uncomfortable, and for a moment I thought he was about to take the compliment back, but then he steeled his features, tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and whispered, "Inside and out."

  Those extra words did the trick.

  Those extra words ruined me.

  I could feel my body tremble as I turned my gaze to his, locking eyes.

  "I am?"

  He nodded slowly. "Everywhere."

  Oh, god.

  My heart.

  I couldn’t handle this.

  I couldn’t cope with him…

  Panicked and uncertain by my feelings, I quickly hurried on, "We're on a level playing field now. I know your secrets and now you know mine, so you can rest assured that I won't be announcing your injury to the whole world," I told him, feeling both vulnerable and exposed. "Not when you have your own dirt on me."

  "Yeah, I guess we are," Johnny replied in a thoughtful tone, before quickly backpedaling. "Wait– you told me all that so I would have leverage over you?"

  I shrugged.

  Johnny frowned. "Why would you do that?"

  "I was trying to make you feel safe," I blurted out.

  "You want to make me feel safe?" The expression on Johnny's face was one I couldn’t decipher as he stared down at me with storm-filled, blue eyes. "Why?"

  "Because you're freaked out about me knowing about your, uh, your –" I pointed to his crotch, cheeks flaming, and then blew out a breath, "It's clearly upsetting you, and I wanted to make you feel better. I wanted to give you that so you don’t feel cornered."

  "I don’t get it." Johnny shook his head in obvious confusion. "I mean, I'm glad that you told me – I'm fucking honored – but you telling me something extremely personal like that with the expectation that I would use it against you and feel good about it? The fact that you were okay with that – that you thought I'd be okay with that?" He blew out a breath. "That's the part I don’t understand."

  "Maybe you were right about me trusting you despite myself," I whispered, feeling a flood of heat and ice collide inside of my chest.

  His brows shot up. "So, you do trust me."

  The shrug I gave him was a helpless one because that's exactly how I felt in this moment: disarmed and utterly helpless.

  "Words, Shannon," he pushed, tone gruff. "I need the words."

  "What do you want me to say?" I croaked out.

  "Tell me why you trust me."

  "Because when I'm with you, I feel..."

  "You feel?"

  "Safe, okay?" I strangled out. "When you're around, I feel safe."

  "Because you are," Johnny confirmed in a gruff tone. "I've already told you that I'm not going to hurt you, and I hope like fuck that I've shown you that, too."

  I exhaled a ragged breath and ducked my face, desperate to hide how deeply those words affected me.

  "Shannon, look at me."

  I shook my head, refusing his request.

  I couldn’t.

  It was too much.

  He was far too much.

  "Look at me," he repeated, tone soft and coaxing.

  When I made no move to oblige, Johnny tipped my chin up with his hand, forcing our gazes to lock, blue eyes burning holes in mine.

  "You. Are. Safe," he stated, enunciating every word with aching slowness, as he trailed the pad of his thumb across my chin. "Whatever happened to you in your old school," he said, pushing through the barriers once more. "It won't follow you to Tommen." With blue eyes burning bright with sincerity and determination, he added, "I won't let anything bad happen to you here." He pressed his forehead to mine and exhaled a pained sigh. "And if you just tell me where else I need to keep you safe, I'll do that, too."

  "Why?" It was one word that was loaded with so many unspoken thoughts and notions, but it was all I could come up with.

  Johnny hesitated for a moment and then said, "Because I care."

  "Why?"

  "I just do." He shrugged helplessly. "I can't help it."

  "It's been you, hasn’t it?" I whispered. "You're the reason no one gave me hassle over the pitch incident? You've been protecting me?"

  He stared warily at me but didn’t respond.

  "Come on, Johnny," I sighed. "I’m not thick. I know you had something to do with it. I was half naked in front of a field of boys. I threw up outside my locker, for god's sakes. Gossip like that doesn’t just evaporate into thin air."

  "I told you that day outside Twomey's office that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you," he finally admitted.

  Yeah, he did.

  He promised.

  And he kept it…

  "Well, thanks for caring," I breathed. />
  "Thanks for being worth it," Johnny replied, hand still on my cheek.

  Shivering from the contact, I leaned into his touch, seeking more.

  I was trying so hard to control myself, but it was virtually impossible to do when he had his hands on my body.

  I wanted to crawl onto his lap and I wanted to run far away from him all at once.

  It didn’t make sense to me.

  I was incredibly confused.

  My feelings were terrifying me.

  His words.

  His eyes.

  His actions.

  He was throwing me.

  I was losing myself.

  "How are the lovebirds?" a familiar voice boomed close to my ear.

  Startled, I looked over Johnny's shoulder to find a grinning Gibsie.

  "Hey, little Shannon," Gibsie drawled with a mischievous wink. "Don’t mind me. I just need to borrow my buddy for a sec."

  Oh, god.

  Mortified, I quickly scrambled backwards, breaking the contact.

  Johnny muttered a string of unintelligible curse words under his breath before turning around. "This better be fucking important," he snapped, shoulders tensed.

  "That depends," Gibsie replied nonchalantly.

  "On what?" Johnny barked.

  "On whether or not you still want me to remind you of that thing you asked me to remind you about?"

  "Thing?" Johnny shook his head. "What thing? The fuck are you talking about?"

  "Lines and bulldozers, my friend," Gibsie shot back with a meaningful look.

  I had no clue as to what Gibsie was referring to, however it was clear that Johnny did, because he exhaled a loud breath, expelling the word, "shite," with it.

  "You're welcome," Gibsie replied, patting Johnny on the shoulder before making his way back to his seat.

  "What was that about?" I asked when we were relatively alone again.

  "Hmm?" Johnny replied, obviously distracted.

  He kept turning back to look at his friend.

  "Are you okay?" I whispered.

  "What? Yeah, yeah, I'm grand." He cast a quick glance to me and then turned back to mouth something else to Gibsie.

  I couldn’t quite figure out what they were saying to each other.

  They seemed to be communicating through body language – although it was fairly easy to figure out what Johnny meant when he gave Gibsie the finger.

  Shaking my head, I gave up on trying to crack the code of their unspoken conversation and turned my attention to Johnny's iPod – something he had given me to listen to during one of our reflection breaks earlier.

  Slipping the headphones on my ears, I carefully scrolled through his playlists and almost had a heart attack when my eyes landed on the one named Songs for Shannon.

  With my heart racing, I cast a quick peek up at Johnny, but he was still fully immersed in vulgar sign language with Gibsie.

  Exhaling a small puff of air from my lungs, I pressed into the playlist and quickly scrolled through the list of songs.

  Coldplay – Yellow

  Guns N’ Roses – Sweet Child O' Mine

  Goo Goo Dolls – Iris

  The Fureys – When You Were Sweet Sixteen

  Howie Day – Collide

  Declan Ó Rourke – Whatever Else Happens

  The Offspring – Want You Bad

  Busted – Fall At Your Feet

  Aerosmith – Crazy

  Counting Crows – Colorblind

  David Gray – This Year's Love

  Bon Jovi – In These Arms

  Westlife – World of Our Own

  Eagle-Eye Cherry – Save Tonight

  Metallica – Tuesday's Gone.

  Snow Patrol – Run

  The Verve – Lucky Man

  HIM – Wicked Game

  The La's – There She Goes

  These were love songs.

  These were all love songs.

  Saved to a playlist with my name on it.

  Why?

  Why would he do this?

  Did he…?

  No. No, he didn’t.

  Of course, he didn’t.

  Then why…

  "Shannon, can we talk?" Johnny's voice penetrated my thoughts, startling me, and causing me to drop his iPod.

  Thankfully it landed on my lap and not on the floor of the bus.

  I turned to face him, feeling my heart race violently in my chest.

  "Talk?"

  "Yeah." Johnny nodded slowly, blue eyes dark and heated. "I need to talk to you about something."

  "Uh, yeah, okay…" Wiping my palms on my skirt, I exhaled a shaky breath before adding, "What do you want to talk about?"

  "Not here," Johnny said, glancing around the bus. "Tonight," he added, eyes trained on mine again. "After the match. I'll take you home and we can talk in my car?"

  "Uh…" I chewed on my lip, feeling panicked at the thought of having to wait that long. "If that's what you want?"

  "It's probably best," he replied gruffly.

  Oh, god.

  Was it bad?

  Was he going to tell me something terrible?

  "Don’t look so scared," Johnny said, distracting me once more from my thoughts. "I won't hurt you." Reaching over, he tipped my chin up with the back of this hand and gave me a small smile. "I promise."

  I was so lost in this boy I could hardly breathe.

  "Alright, everyone, reflection time is over," Mrs. Moore called out, clapping her hands to garner everyone's attention. "We only have forty minutes left before we get to Dublin, so I propose another quiz."

  "For fuck's sake," Johnny groaned, dropping his hand. "Not another bleeding quiz."

  I chuckled at his reaction.

  "What's funny?" he asked, smirking at me. "Don’t tell me you actually enjoy these things?"

  I enjoy being with you.

  "I'm on the winning team," I teased, nudging his shoulder with mine. "Of course, I'm enjoying this."

  "True," Johnny agreed with a lopsided grin. Pulling the stack of certificates we had collected throughout the day's tasks out of his bag, he plopped them on my lap and said, "We make a pretty good team, Shannon like the River."

  Yes.

  Yes, we did.

  I waited for everyone else to climb off the bus before sliding out of my seat.

  "Good luck today," I said as I hovered in the aisle, watching Johnny as he rummaged through the discarded bags at the back of the bus, clearly searching for his own.

  "Huh?" Johnny replied, obviously distracted, as he muttered something about messy bastards under his breath.

  He looked stressed.

  The closer we got to Royce College, the more agitated he grew.

  Now that we were here, Johnny was vibrating with tension.

  I understood why.

  He was supposed to go to school here, which meant he would more than likely be playing against his old friends and teammates.

  That was a lot of pressure.

  And he was hiding an injury.

  "The match," I clarified. "I hope you win." I gave him a small wave before hurrying down the aisle towards the exit, desperate to put some much-needed space between Johnny Kavanagh and my heart.

  "Shannon?" Johnny called after me.

  Pausing at the door, I swung back to look at him. "Yeah?"

  His blue eyes burned holes inside of me when he said, "Thanks."

  "For what?" I whispered.

  Johnny smiled. "For being nothing like the rest of them."

  "Uh, okay?"

  "I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

  I nodded. "Bye Johnny."

  Feeling off kilter, I hurried off the bus where I was immediately intercepted by both Shelly and Helen.

  Hooking their arms through mine, they led me away from the bus.

  "Girl, you have some explaining to do," Shelly said excitedly.

  "And we want all the details," Helen agreed with a nod.

  "Details?" I asked, feeling flushed by their ambush. "About wha
t?"

  "Don’t even think about it," Helen warned. "You just spent three hours up close and personal with Johnny."

  "I didn’t have a choice," I replied. "The seat next to his was the only one left."

  "What did you talk about?" Shelly asked, eyes dancing with excitement. "What did he say to you?"

  "I don’t know." I shrugged, feeling awkward. "Just stuff."

  "Just stuff?" Helen spluttered.

  "Shannon, I am trying to live vicariously through you here. You've got to give me more than 'just stuff'," Shelly huffed.

  "Back off, vultures," Lizzie barked. "Go and find another carcass to fight over."

  She was leaning against the back of the bus, with a huge boy standing in front of her.

  I instantly recognized him as Pierce.

  I decided that they had to be back on again when I took in the sight of her hands on his waist, and the way he was nuzzling her neck.

  Claire, Gibsie, Hughie, Coach Mulcahy, and Patrick Feely were standing close by, though they weren't paying any attention to us.

  In fact, they all seemed to be in a debate over something as they circled Coach Mulcahy.

  "Lizzie!" Shelly whined. "I was only asking."

  "If you want to know what Johnny Kavanagh talks about then go and ask Johnny Kavanagh," Lizzie shot back. "Not Shannon." Turning her gaze on me, she said, "Come on, Shan. We're over here."

  Grateful for her interruption, I slid out from between the gossip girls, gave them a quick wave, ignored their disappointed expressions, and then hurried over to my friends.

  The closer I got to my friends, the louder the discussion between the others seemed to get.

  "He's playing, Coach," Hughie was snarling. "They can't do this."

  "I agree, Biggs," Coach replied with a phone to his ear. "This crap won't stand – Hello, yes, I would like the speak to the principal." With his mobile welded to his ear, Coach hurried off, barking orders into the phone.

  "What a pack of langers," Gibsie tossed out angrily.

  "Pussies," Hughie agreed.

  "To be fair," Patrick Feely mused, "the team seems willing to play. It's their coach with the issue."

  "Issue?" I asked, sidling up to Claire because Lizzie's mouth was currently being occupied by Pierce's tongue. "What's going on? Is the match cancelled?"

  "Royce's coach is refusing to allow his team to play if Coach plays Johnny," Claire explained, looking as enraged as everyone else.