Keeping 13: Boys of Tommen #2

by Chloe Walsh

  "Hi, Shan," a familiar voice called out from behind me.

  I spun around to find Shelly, one of the girls in my class, waving at me from the bathroom doorway. The smile on her face quickly slipped when her eyes landed on mine. "Oh god," she whisper-hissed, pointing at my face. "It's really true, isn't it?"

  "Probably," I mumbled, feeling anxious.

  "I just thought… I mean, when I heard the girls talking about it in the bathroom, I just presumed –" She snapped her mouth shut and just stared at me for a long moment. "Damn, girl," she finally breathed. "I'm so sorry."

  "Do you know where Claire is?" I asked, voice small. "Or Lizzie?"

  "Office with Mr. Twomey. He called them both in when they arrived. They've been in there for ages." Shelly grimaced. "It's probably about you."

  "Oh." I stood there for several moments, debating what to say to that before deciding there was nothing to say and hurrying away.

  I planned on escaping to the third-year common room and hiding there until first class commenced, but my feet had other plans. My pulse raced as I wandered off the beaten track, traveling down corridors I never used, to the fifth-year wing of the school.

  I heard her before I saw her. "Get the fuck out of my way, whore!"

  Shoving me roughly out of her way, Bella barreled down the hallway, coming as close to running as I'd ever seen a girl in six-inch heels move.

  Staggering sideways from the impact, I braced the wall with my hand, breathing hard, and stared after her.

  "This is all your fault!" she tossed out over her shoulder before disappearing down another corridor. "You ruined my life."

  In some sick and extremely unhealthy way, I almost felt better, like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Temporarily, at least. Because I knew this altercation was coming. I knew she was going to do something to me.

  Girls like Bella Wilkinson were all the same. They were bitter and angry at the world, and could never let a single thing go. The thing in Bella's case was Johnny, and the look she gave me on the bus that day assured me that I was in the firing line.

  You've survived far worse than a mean girl, a small voice in the back of my head reminded me. In three years' time, she'll be a blip on your radar.

  It was with this knowledge that I steeled my spine and made my way down to the fifth-year wing. I had a whole speech thought up, one that fell out of my head the moment I locked eyes on him, leaning against his locker, with his arms folded across his chest, surrounded by a small army of fellow students. Beside him, resting against the lockers, was one lone crutch. I instantly recognized four of the boys with him as Gibsie, Patrick Feely, Pierce Ó Neill, and Hughie Biggs. Others, I recognized from the bus. His teammates, I noted.

  They were all laughing at something Gibsie was saying. Johnny's smile was a full, double-dimpled one and I could only imagine what Gibsie had said to draw that reaction out of him as he waved his hands around animatedly in usual Gibsie fashion.

  His dark hair was styled in that deliciously disheveled look I was fairly sure – no, I knew – he woke up in the morning with, and his eyes were dancing with amusement.

  Gibsie and Hughie began to play fight then, with Hughie tackling Gibsie to the floor and rolling around, while the others looked on and laughed.

  Riveted to the spot, I watched him interact, taking in how carefree he looked with his teammates and friends, and it made me sad.

  He never looks like that with you because you don't make him happy. You never could. All you are is a complication, a niggling voice of doubt conjured up in my mind. Get used to watching him from a distance, Shannon, because he's going away soon. He's going to be a star. Look at him, he already shines so bright, it's blinding…

  With my bravery abandoning me in a shaky breath, I swiftly turned on my heels, hell bent on getting away – on putting some much-needed space between my heart and the boy who owned it.

  It was too much; my feelings, the crowds, this school, my life…

  "Shannon?"

  Keep going, it might not be him.

  "Shannon like the river, come back here!"

  Busted.

  Freezing in the middle of the corridor with my back to him, I debated my options: pretend I hadn't heard him the first time, or just keep running? The coward in me favored option two, but I forced myself to just stay, breathe, and think this through.

  You don't want to run away from Johnny, I silently commanded myself, this is silly. You're not scared of him.

  "Were you going to ignore me?" His voice was closer now, achingly closer, and when I felt his fingers brush against my shoulder blade, an involuntary shiver rolled through me. "Hmm?"

  Inhaling a deep, steadying breath, I turned around and slapped on the brightest smile I could muster. "Hi, Johnny."

  Johnny's face was set in a deep frown, blue eyes full of confusion as they swept over me. God, he was beautiful. It was hard to focus when my eyes kept drifting to his mouth – to his lips I knew on an intimate basis.

  "Hi, Shannon," he replied, not smiling.

  "H-how are you?" I asked, nervous.

  "Fine. How are you feeling?"

  "I'm okay…" My smile slipped as I took in his thunderous expression. "What's wrong?"

  "You were running," Johnny replied, looking hurt. "From me."

  "Oh, no, I was just…I needed to…I mean, yeah, I thought I should –" Exhaling a ragged breath, I let my shoulders sag. "Yeah."

  His eyes softened. "Yeah, as in you were or you weren't?"

  "I'm uh…" I grimaced, feeling acutely exposed in this moment. He was putting me on the spot in that direct way of his. "I'm not really sure."

  A faint smile ghosted his full lips. "You're not sure of what?"

  "Whether you wanted me to come over to you just there? I mean, I didn't know if you wanted to see me…or talk? After what happened with my Mam, and I just, I wasn't sure if you wanted to talk to me anymore." I blew out a shaky breath, self-loathing strong as I slipped and stumbled over my words. "I didn't know what you wanted." Exhaling heavily, I dropped my head. "I don't know," I amended quietly, my voice barely more than a whisper. "What you want."

  "Ask me."

  Forcing down the urge to run and hide, I forced my chin up and looked at him. "Huh?"

  "If you want to know what I want, then ask me," Johnny repeated, closing the space between us. "All you have to do is ask me." His hand came down, gently cupping my elbow. "And I'll tell you."

  I felt dizzy when I croaked out, "What do you want, Johnny?"

  "For a start, I want you to look me in the eyes when you talk to me," Johnny replied, blue eyes burning holes so deeply inside of me, I doubted they could ever be repaired. "Second, I want you to stop worrying about things you can't control. Like Darren and your Ma."

  "But you didn't come back," I blurted out and then reddened before quickly backpedaling. My heart was racing wildly, my body shaking with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that you had to come back or anything like that, and I wasn't expecting you to just drop everything for me. I know you're busy and you have a lot of rehab sessions –"

  "I didn't come back because I couldn't, Shannon, not because I was told not to by your Ma and not because I didn't want to see you," Johnny explained, sounding pained. "I didn't come back because I physically couldn't get to you. I still can't drive, and my Ma wouldn't let me out of her sight. They even took Gibsie off me, for Christ's sake. But I wanted to." He exhaled a shaky breath. "I really fucking wanted to see you."

  It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. For the last week, I hadn't slept, had barely eaten anything, and all because I was literally drowning in my feelings and my uncertainty. The unknown was a terrifying thing for me. Not knowing where I stood with Johnny was even worse. "Oh."

  "I tried to call you," he added gruffly. "I texted you every day."

  "Your battery died," I explained, feeling lightheaded. "I couldn't charge it."

  "Dead batt
ery." Johnny sighed in what looked like relief. "Makes sense."

  "Does she hate me?" I asked then, feeling a little faint. "Your mother?"

  "No, Shan, she doesn't hate you," he replied, voice torn. "I don't think there's a person on this planet who could hate you."

  "But?"

  He grimaced. "My Ma's just…"

  "She's just what?" My pulse quickened as I waited in fear for what he would say next.

  "Worried," he finally replied. "My parents don't want me going over to your place. They think it's a bad idea."

  My heart sank.

  Oh god, you're a bad idea.

  His parents think you're a bad idea for him, Shannon.

  I worried my bottom lip, biting down so hard I was surprised not to taste blood. "I'm sorry." Feeling at a loss, I clasped my hands together, a nervous trait, and sighed. "For all of it."

  Johnny reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear. "Can you do me a favor?"

  Nodding, I stopped myself from leaning my cheek into his touch. "Of course."

  "Can you not climb back inside that shell of yours every time we're not together for a few days?"

  I swallowed deeply, eyes locked on his. "My shell?"

  "Your shell," he confirmed. "Don't do that to me, Shannon – don't block me out. Don't give me you last weekend and then take it away again. I'm the same me from that night in my house – I'm the same me from every other time we've been together. So, don't put a wall up between us, not when you've already let me climb over it."

  "I'm…I didn't realize I was doing that," I admitted.

  "You're doing it now," he confirmed gruffly. "You do it all the time."

  "I…" Shaking my head, I shrugged helplessly. "Sorry?"

  "Don't say sorry," he replied. "Just start trusting me, okay?"

  "I do trust you, Johnny," I strangled out, nodding eagerly, desperate for him to know that. "But they're probably right," I added, feeling a crippling wave of uncertainty flood me. "Your parents, I mean." Blowing out a breath, I touched my forehead with my hand and mumbled, "About it being a bad idea."

  "They're wrong," Johnny corrected, sounding so confident and sure in this moment that it was comforting to hear. "I'm right."

  "Right about what?"

  "I'm right about you."

  Oh god.

  "But I am a bad idea for you, Johnny," I replied shakily, needing him to hear me, giving him the out that, if he had sense, he would take. "I'm a lot of trouble."

  "I like your trouble," he countered, stepping closer.

  "My life is complicated."

  "I want your complications."

  My breath escaped me in a rush. "You do?"

  He nodded slowly. "You asked me what I wanted? There's a lot of things, but in a nutshell, I just want you." Shrugging, he added, "And I'm kind of hoping that you're going to say that you want me, too?" He laughed nervously. "Or else I've just made a complete spanner of myself in the middle of the school hall –"

  "I do back," I blurted out and then cringed. "You, as well." Shaking my head, I blew out a breath and tried again. "I want you, too."

  "Yeah?" He beamed, shoulders sagging in relief. "Thank fuck for that."

  "And I missed you," I strangled out the words, forcing them out of my head and into his, because, at the very least, I needed him to know that I missed him. "Terribly," I added, offering up another piece of trust to him. "Like so much."

  "Yeah." Tightening his hold on my elbow, Johnny tugged me closer until I was flush against him. "How much?"

  "Like a crazy fucking amount," I whispered.

  "A crazy fucking amount?" Smirking, he titled his head to one side. "That sounds dangerous."

  "It is." I nodded eagerly. "Very."

  Grinning, Johnny dipped his face, closing the space between us. "I think I'll take my chances," he whispered, and then brushed his lips against mine.

  Once, featherlight, twice, a little firmer, and then…oh god.

  His tongue swept into my mouth, stroking against mine, and my breath hitched, my eyelids fluttering closed.

  My hands shot out of their own accord, fingers knotting in his navy school jumper, as I kissed him back with everything I had in me. Whatever I had in this moment, I gave it all up to him, both unable and unwilling to hold back the feelings bursting out of me that were all aimed solely at him.

  I knew people could see us, we were standing in the middle of the corridor with his teammates less than ten feet away, but I just didn’t care anymore. I could hear the bell sounding for class, I could hear voices around us, people calling his name and wolf-whistling, but I couldn't find the willpower required to tear myself away. I couldn't find it in my heart to worry.

  Johnny kept one hand on my elbow, holding me roughly against his chest, while his free hand tangled in my hair, holding me in place, letting me know with every thrust of his tongue that he really did like my trouble.

  Oh god…

  The bell sounded again and then we were cloaked in a sudden silence.

  Trembling, I clung to him, struggling to handle the heat rising up inside of me. The pressure in my chest was almost too much and I gasped into his mouth, needing more and needing him to stop all in one breath. Because I couldn't contain the feeling erupting inside of me. I couldn't stop my heart from rail-roading off-course and charging straight for him.

  "Wait, wait, wait –" Breaking the kiss, Johnny stared down at me, breathing hard. "You're my girlfriend now, right?"

  Feeling slightly dazed, I craned my neck and stared up at him. "Huh?"

  "My girlfriend," he repeated, looking nervous. "Are you?"

  "Uh, I…I –"

  "Because I've never done this before." He glanced around the empty corridor before turning his attention back to me. "And I need to know where I stand with you."

  "Oh." I shrugged helplessly. "Neither have I."

  "Shite, yeah, sorry." He blew out another nervous breath, looking achingly vulnerable. "So, are you?"

  Was he asking me to confirm I was his girlfriend or was he asking me to be his girlfriend? Or was he asking me if I thought I was? Oh god, I didn't know and my mind was reeling, my heart too cautious to make the assumption for fear I was reading this whole thing wrong.

  "I don't know," I finally replied, heart racing wildly. "Am I?"

  Johnny touched my cheek, his knuckles grazing over my skin with a featherlight touch. "I really fucking hope so."

  "Yeah?" A deep sense of relief washed through me and I whispered, "Me too."

  "And I'm yours." Grinning, his hand slipped from my elbow to my ass, giving me a little squeeze, before stepping back and releasing me. "Just so you know where you stand."

  My heart slammed so hard against my chest that I felt a little faint. "Oh-okay."

  He then proceeded to tug his shirt out from the waistband to conceal the very impressive bulge in his grey school trousers. "I'm supposed to be in double accounting with Doyle, and I have no fucking clue how I'm going to concentrate on spreadsheets," he explained with a grimace. "What are you late for?"

  "I'm, ah…" Shaking my head, I tried to clear my thoughts but my gaze kept returning to his blatant erection. "I'm supposed to be in Maths."

  When he caught me staring, Johnny shrugged sheepishly. "It's uh, yeah, that's probably going to happen a lot when I'm with you," he explained, with a small shake of his head. "But just know that I'm not getting any notions, okay? Just ignore it and it'll go away."

  What if I don't want to ignore it?

  "Okay," I agreed, tone breathy. "I understand."

  Feeling like my world had once again shifted beneath me, I watched as Johnny walked stiffly back to his locker, slung his schoolbag over his shoulder and then grabbed his crutch before returning to me.

  "Shouldn't you be leaning on that?" I asked when he slung an arm around my shoulder and led me back towards the third-year wing, aimlessly twisting the metal stick around in his hand like a baton twirler.

  "It slows me down," he admitted,
drawing me closer to his side.

  "For good reason," I replied quietly, stopping outside my designated classroom. "Because you're supposed to slow down, Johnny."

  "So, this is what having a girlfriend's going to be like?" he teased, but thankfully set his crutch down. "You bossing me around the place and telling me what to do?"

  "No." I blushed. "I'm just saying that you were given a crutch for a good reason."

  "Yeah, I know." Sighing, he released his hold on me and turned to face me. "So, listen, I wanted to ask you about how things were going at home, but I got all caught up in the moment."

  At the mention of home, I felt the tension build back up inside of me. "My Dad's still gone," I said quietly. "If that's what you meant."

  "No sight of him?"

  I shrugged. "Not by the Gardaí."

  "Shite." Johnny expelled a frustrated growl. "It's been more than two weeks. How the hell have they not found him by now?"

  "It's okay." I shrugged, feeling myself grow more rigid at the thought of my father. "I'm not expecting any miracles."

  "No, it's not okay," he shot back in a passionate tone. "But you will be."

  "Yeah" Shivering, I stepped into his embrace, pressing my forehead to his chest. "Maybe I will."

  "Can we do something after school today?" he asked then, nuzzling my hair with his cheek. "Can you come home with me?"

  God, I wish. "No."

  "No?" He stared down at me. "If this is because you think my folks don't want you at the house then you're wrong, Shan."

  "Darren's picking me up," I reluctantly told him. "Apparently, he'll be driving me to and from school from here on out."

  Growling, he dropped a hand on my lower back and pulled me closer. "I fucking hate this."

  Closing my eyes, I just sagged against him, body coiled tight with tension. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't say sorry," he said, smoothing a hand down my back. "It'll be okay. I'm getting stronger. I've been doing all my physio and shite. Once I get my car back next week, and I'm back on the road, it'll be easier." He growled when he said, "I'll be breathing down their necks like their worst fucking nightmare."

  "I'm sorry about how they spoke to you," I blurted out. "It was so wrong."

  "Shan." He sighed. "Don't even worry about it."