Keeping 13: Boys of Tommen #2

by Chloe Walsh

"Physiological?" he scoffed. "You need to get your head out of those books, lad," or at least that's what I thought he said. It was kind of hard to work out what he was saying with half a dozen lollipops hanging out of his mouth.

  "How many are you planning on wearing at once?" I shot back, unscrewing the cap on my water bottle. "Half a dozen? Because there's no other reason to fill your bag to the fucking brim, Gibs." Shaking my head, I pressed my bottle to my lips and drained the contents in four long gulps. "They'll be out of date in a year and then what?"

  "Say what you want, but I'm being practical," he replied, slurping loudly on his lollipops as he perused his freebies proudly. "And sensible." Sifting through what had to be a minimum of eighty different colored condom wrappers, he compiled a neat pile to the left of his sandwich. "One of us has to be."

  "One of us has to be?" I narrowed my eyes. "Are you serious? You honestly think you're the sensible one in this relationship?"

  "Well, where are your condoms, Johnny?"

  I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not having sex, so I don't need any."

  "Sure." He, in turn, rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Famous last words, lad."

  "You look like a gobshite," I stated. "Pack it away, will ya?"

  "Why?"

  "Because everyone can see you."

  "And I care because?" he shot back, unfazed. "Fuck them all." Grinning, he waggled his brows. "You're just afraid your girlfriend is going to see." Snickering, he shook his head and continued to make small piles. "Lad, I can't believe you signed yourself off." He sighed dramatically. "I guess it's down to me and Feely now – since you and Hugh both fucked yourselves over."

  Dear Jesus, please give me strength to deal with his crazy today…

  Leaning back in my chair, I gripped my water bottle and practiced the art of not strangling my best friend to death. "You need to put that shite away," I bit out when I felt calm enough to speak again. I glanced around the room, looking for Shannon and coming up empty. "I'm serious, Gibs."

  "It's all foreign," he mused, inspecting the label. "I can't read the instructions."

  "What's to explain?" I shot back. "Roll it on your dick when you're ready and roll it off when you're done. I'd say the whole process is fairly self-explanatory, lad."

  "Well, this pile's for you," he offered. "Since you were too pussy to get your own."

  "I already told you that I don't need any condoms," I bit out, aggravated. I don't need the temptation. "And if I do, I'll get them, because, believe it or not, Gibs, I am more than capable of getting shite for myself. I've been keeping myself out of trouble for years now."

  "True." He shrugged, unfazed. "But that was before you went and got yourself shacked up."

  Yeah, it was safe to say I bulldozed this morning, but I had no regrets. For the first time in months, I felt like I had some clarity over my feelings. Like something in my life was falling into place.

  Did I push her too hard too fast? Probably. Should I have taken it slower? More than likely.

  Either way, I wasn't about to take it back.

  "It's not like that with her," I snapped, dragging myself from my thoughts. "So just put them away before she comes in here and you freak her out."

  "No, it's not like that with Shannon," he agreed. "It's a lot worse and a lot more dangerous because you went and caught yourself some big, fat feelings, didn't ya, lover boy? And I'm telling you now that this valiant act won't mean shit when you find yourself caught in the moment, bollocks naked, and drowning in tight, virgin pussy. Just ask every poor bastard our age with a baby on his hip or on a food run in Dunnes Stores for cravings." Pushing a pile of condoms towards me like he was hustling poker chips, he added, "I'm only looking out for you. So here – big boy ones for you."

  "I can't deal with you today, Gibs," I growled, throwing my hands up in sheer fucking despair. "I honestly can't."

  "Take them."

  "No."

  "Take them."

  "No."

  "Yes."

  "Did they adjust your medication?"

  "Not lately, now take them."

  "Jesus, Gibs –"

  "Take the condoms or I'll make a scene."

  "Fine!" Grabbing two fistfuls of foil packets, I shoved them into my pockets and glared at him. "Happy now?"

  He grinned widely. "You will be – when you're not caught out in a moment."

  "Fine, thank you, Gibs, for keeping my dick protected. Now, will you put it away?" I practically begged.

  Nodding, he started to sweep everything back into his bag and I sagged in relief. Because the very last thing I needed was Shannon walking in while we were trading Trojans like Pokémon cards.

  "So," he mused, tone slightly more serious now. "How are you feeling?"

  I flexed my jaw. "Fine."

  "You're in pain, aren't ya?" His eyes landed on mine, full of concern. "Lad, if you need to go home, that's okay."

  "I'm just stiff, Gibs," I muttered. "Everything's locking up on me."

  Fisting a handful of condoms, he said, "We should go for a swim after school."

  "Yeah." I nodded. "I know."

  "But you won't?" Smirking, he dropped the wrappers back down and leaned forward. "Because you have other plans?" He waggled his brows. "Shannon plans?"

  "I don't know, lad." Exhaling heavily, I leaned forward and dropped my elbows on the table. "It's all fucked up."

  "Already?" His brows shot up. "Christ, Johnny, you made short work of that, lad."

  "Not Shannon," I muttered, feeling my body grow hot with temper. "But her family hates me." Dropping my head in my hands, I bit back a growl. "It's so messy, Gibs."

  "Messy?"

  "Messy," I confirmed grimly, glancing back up at him. "You saw the way her brother reacted to me last week? Well, I'm telling you that was nothing compared to how her Ma was with me."

  "Joey the hurler doesn't have a problem with you," he offered. "Well, no more than the rest of the world."

  "One out of seven, lad," I mumbled. "I'm on a winner, aren't I?"

  "I don't get it," he mused, catching his jaw. "I honestly don't."

  "Yeah, well, you and me both, lad."

  "Maybe they find you threatening?"

  "If I was a threat, they'd be scared," I countered. "They're not scared, lad. They're just out for blood – my blood." My shoulders sagged in defeat. "I can't catch a bleeding break."

  "It'll balance out eventually," he told me. "Life has its own built-in weighing scales." He shrugged. "It can't be all bad all of the time, the same as it can't be all good. Something's got to give."

  "Yeah?" I grimaced. "I hope you're right, lad."

  "You're ridiculous," Hughie said then, as he and Feely joined us at the table, bringing an abrupt end to our conversation. Slapping a tinfoil covered sandwich down on the table, Hughie sank down on his usual chair to my right and roughly scraped the legs of his chair forward, never taking his eyes off Gibsie. "Put that shit away before Katie comes over."

  Gibsie stared at Hughie and then me before sighing dramatically. "I don't know where I went wrong with the two of you." Packing away the last of his supplies, Gibsie tossed his school bag on the floor and huffed loudly. "I really don't."

  "Let it go, Hugh," Feely, who had positioned himself next to Gibsie, said with a sigh. "It was a joke."

  "About my sister," Hughie bit out, glowering.

  Morbidly curious, I turned to look at Hughie's face and, oh shit, he was still peppering over this morning.

  "You're still pissed off with me?" Gibsie accused, sounding amused. "That was hours ago, lad."

  "Damn straight I'm still pissed with you," Hughie seethed.

  "Hey, Johnny," Katie Horgan, Hughie's tiny, red-haired girlfriend said as she slipped around the back of my chair.

  "Alright, Katie," I replied, offering her a nod.

  "Hope you're feeling better," she added, giving my shoulder a small squeeze before moving straight for her fella.

  "You're overreacting," Gibsie said, smilin
g at Hughie. "First about your sister and now the condoms." Sighing, he added, "You'd swear you never saw a pair of tits the way you're carrying on."

  "If you want to see a pair of tits, Gibs –" Pausing mid-rant, Hughie murmured, "Hey, babe," to his girlfriend. Dragging Katie down on his lap, he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before turning his glare back on Gibsie, "You need only look in the mirror."

  "What's wrong?" Katie asked, curling an arm around Hughie's neck. "Babe?"

  "Him." Wrapping an arm around her waist, Hughie drew her closer to his chest, and pointed across the table at Gibsie. "That little fucker."

  "Lad." Gibsie threw his head back and laughed, much to Hughie's dismay. "I'm two inches taller than you." Shoving his chair back, he pulled his jumper and shirt up, revealing his bare chest, and grinned. "And are these the tits you're talking about?" he taunted, flexing his pecks. "Fine pair, aren't they?"

  "You're an eejit," I muttered wearily.

  "An eejit with great tits, apparently," he shot back with a wink.

  "I can't believe you pierced your nipples," Katie chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand. "What if they get ripped off in a match?"

  "Don't look at his nipples, baby," Hughie huffed. "Look at my fucking nipples."

  Deciding to eject myself from the storm brewing around me, I leaned back in my chair, zoned out of their conversation, and waited for Shannon.

  Checking my watch for the fiftieth time in the last fifteen minutes, I felt a pang of agitation surge through me.

  Where was she?

  We only had an hour for big lunch and I wanted to spend those sixty minutes with her, because let's face it, it was the only time I was going to get with her.

  Glancing around again, I spotted two blonde heads in the reflection of the glass floor-to-ceiling window. Twisting around in my seat, my eyes landed on Claire and Lizzie just beyond the archway of the hall. They were clearly arguing with one another and standing in between them, several inches closer to the ground, was Shannon.

  My heart slammed against my chest bone and I took a moment to just soak in the sight of her. She was tugging on their sleeves, pulling them away from the archway, looking all flustered and wide-eyed. As soon as she slipped out of view, my brain kicked into gear and my feet started moving.

  29

  The Rugby Table

  Shannon

  "Shannon?" Lizzie Young's voice filled my ears as I sat on the closed-lid toilet, inside one of the stalls in the girls changing rooms in the PE hall with my uneaten sandwich on my lap. "Are you in here?"

  I'd skipped Maths this morning. In fact, I'd skipped all six classes before big lunch. I'd gotten all the way to the classroom door this morning, I'd even put my hand on the door-handle, but I just couldn't make myself go inside and face everyone.

  I just couldn't do it.

  At first, I had debated just leaving school entirely and going home, but when I got to the main entrance gates, I had an unmerciful panic attack, with my father's face at the fore point of my anguish. Spinning on my heels, I had hurried out of the rain, into the PE hall and hadn't left since.

  "Hey," a voice said from somewhere above me then, causing me to almost jump out of my own skin.

  "Oh my god!" Glancing up, my eyes landed on Lizzie, who was leaning over the top of the cubicle partition with a mildly amused expression on her face. "Lizzie, you almost gave me a heart attack."

  She arched a finely plucked brow. "Cozy down there?"

  "Shan!" Claire's face popped up from the other side of the cubicle partition. "What are you doing in here?"

  "Hiding," I admitted, red-faced.

  "From what?"

  "School," I offered with a weary sigh, as I stood up and unlocked the door. "The people in it." Stepping out of the cubicle, I walked over to the sinks, leaned against one of the cold, porcelain basins, and sighed. "Life."

  "Well, that's a shitty thing to do," Lizzie shot back. Hopping down from the toilet bowl she had been balancing on, she wiped her hands on her school skirt and stalked towards me. Her dark-blonde hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and her lips were painted a scarlet-red color, making her look even more beautiful than normal. "We were worried to death about you," she added, before pulling me into a hug. "You little dope."

  "It's true," Claire offered, scrambling down from the toilet bowl she had been standing on. "Not the dope part," she added, coming to join us in a hug. "That was mean and unnecessary, Lizzie – we've talked about this. But the worried to death part." She nodded. "We were definitely half way there."

  "Sorry guys," I whispered, feeling swamped by my friends. Both girls were tall, both were blonde, and both were looking at me like I had the answers to all their questions, and maybe I did, but that didn't mean I could ever tell them. "I just…I needed –"

  "A minute?" Lizzie offered with a knowing smile. "Yeah, I think you're owed a few of those."

  "Am I in trouble for skipping my classes?"

  "No." Claire shook her head firmly. "Mr. Twomey's just worried about you. He sent us to look for you, actually. We've literally been out of class all day, roaming the school for you."

  "And it's a big school," Lizzie offered dryly. "And you're a tiny person."

  "I was just in here," I confessed, feeling terrible now.

  "Yeah, the P.E hall?" Lizzie laughed softly. "Was honestly the last place either of us expected you to be."

  "He called us to the office first thing, too," Claire added. "They all want to help, Shan."

  "I don't want to talk to him or any of the teachers," I strangled out. "I told Darren to tell them that I didn't want to talk." I shook my head, feeling a little faint at the thought. "I don't want to talk to anyone."

  "I know," Claire soothed. "And you don't have to."

  "That's why he called us in," Lizzie offered calmly.

  "Yeah." Claire nodded. "He wanted to make sure that we were looking out for you."

  "Like he even had to ask," Lizzie scoffed.

  "Come on," Claire said as she grabbed my schoolbag off the slippery tiles and slung it over her shoulder. "We're going to lunch."

  "And then we're going to class," Lizzie added as she pushed me out of the bathroom. "Together."

  "I'm scared," I blurted out, feeling that familiar pang of panic claw its way up my throat as we walked out of the hall and down the steep steps.

  "We know," Claire replied, wrapping an arm around me as we headed through the courtyard. "But it's going to be okay."

  "Yes, it is," Lizzie agreed, folding a loose lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. "Because you're not alone in this."

  "I'm sorry, guys," I muttered, feeling terrible. "I'm a pain in the ass."

  "Yeah, but you're our pain in the ass," Lizzie countered. "And we happen to be sort of fond of you."

  "Thanks," I chuckled. "I think?"

  "By the way," Lizzie paused mid-step to look at me. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

  "No," I croaked out.

  "You're sure?"

  "I just…just be normal with me, Liz," I pleaded quietly. "That's all I need."

  "Fair enough." Lizzie nodded and continued towards the main building. "Just know that we're here."

  "Speaking of normal," Claire injected, thankfully changing the subject. "Are you going to be normal in here?" she asked Lizzie. Yanking open the glass door, she gestured to us to file in. "No arguments, okay?" We walked inside and Claire hurried in after us. "No bitching at Gerard or any of the boys."

  Lizzie shrugged noncommittally, striding off in the direction of the lunch hall. "If Thor and his gang of gimps steer clear of our table, we won't have a problem."

  "Hey – my brother's in that gang of gimps," Claire huffed.

  "You know what they say, Claire – if you lie with dogs, you get fleas."

  "Then you must be riddled with them," Claire shot back. "Since all you seem to be doing lately is lying under Pierce Ó Neill." Lizzie's cheeks turned pink and Claire arched a perfectly shaped brow. "N
othing to say? Uh-huh. That's what I thought."

  "Guys, don't fight," I puffed out as I hurried to keep up with their long strides, only to freeze on the mortal spot when we reached the archway. My heart jackknifed in my chest when my eyes landed on Johnny.

  He was sitting at his usual spot at the end of the banquet-like table with his back to me. He had his feet propped up on a chair and his arms folded behind his head. His hair was all mussed up, looking like he'd spent the morning dragging his hands through it.

  Several of the girls sitting at nearby tables were all staring at him with the same hungry expression I'd seen him provoke from girls in the hallways.

  The same hungry expression he provoked from me…

  He wasn’t paying an ounce of attention to the girls, or anyone else for that matter. He was staring straight ahead, attention glued to the table I usually sat at with the girls.

  "Uh," I cleared my throat, feeling nervous. "I have something to tell you." Catching ahold of their sleeves, I tugged the girls away from the archway, feeling my heart race at a million miles an hour as my gaze soaked him in. "It's about Johnny," I added, tearing my gaze away from him. "And me."

  "Oh god." Lizzie narrowed her eyes. "What did you do with Captain Fantastic?"

  "Yes?" Claire's eyes widened in excitement. "What did you do?"

  "I…" I could feel my cheeks turning red. "Well, see, he's my…and I'm his…" Flustered, I broke off and pressed a hand to my forehead. "He asked me to be his girlfriend and I said yes."

  "Shut the front door!" Claire squealed, clapping and bouncing excitedly. "Oh my god! Oh my god!"

  I gave her a weak smile. "Yeah."

  "You're his girlfriend?" Lizzie frowned in confusion. "But he doesn't do the whole girlfriend thing."

  "Well, he does now," Claire hooted, still bouncing like a playful kitten. "I swear, this is the best day!"

  "You know, I don't even know why I'm surprised," Lizzie grumbled. "This has been brewing for months."

  "It really has," Claire replied, still grinning as she nodded in agreement. "Months and months."

  "It literally just happened today," I told them.

  "Yeah, sure, because Johnny Kavanagh blows a head gasket for every girl in this school," Lizzie shot back sarcastically. "I knew that day before Easter break, when you ran out of school and he went all batshit in the courtyard, that something was going on between you. Hell, even before that, he was always watching you like a creeper."