Keeping 13: Boys of Tommen #2

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Keeping 13: Boys of Tommen #2 Page 29

by Chloe Walsh


  I answered all of the standard, mandatory questions doled out to me by Mr. Twomey and Miss Nyhan, accepted all the I'm so sorry this happened to you and don't be afraid to talk to us small talk and then I went on my way, forcing myself to sit through my last three classes.

  Surprisingly, I coped very well with the stares and hushed whispers from my classmates and the sympathetic gazes from my teachers. I guess it helped that Lizzie had melded herself to my side and was emanating some pretty serious fuck with me and I'll cut your heart out vibes.

  When the final bell rang at 4pm, signaling the end of our school day, I was feeling warily optimistic.

  Like maybe I could do this after all.

  Like maybe I could actually get my life back on track.

  "Do you want to come over to my place?" Claire asked, leaning against my desk, watching as I piled my books back into my schoolbag after our last class. Aside from Miss Moore, who was sitting at her desk, we were the last two people in the classroom, with everyone running for the hills the moment the bell sounded, including Lizzie, who had dashed off to meet Pierce, muttering something about a personal crisis. "Even for an hour?"

  "I'd love to," I replied, zipping my bag closed before standing up. "But Darren's probably waiting outside for me already." Grabbing my chair, I hoisted it onto the table, and turned to face her. "I'm being monitored."

  "Ugh." Claire scrunched her nose up in distaste. "Your family is beyond messed up."

  "Yep." Hoisting my bag onto my back, I gave her a solemn nod. "Couldn't agree more."

  "Do you want to just come anyway?" she asked as we walked out of the classroom and into the hallway. "Like ditch Darren?" Grinning mischievously, she fell into step alongside me as we headed for the main entrance. "Gerard has the car and I know he'd give us both a spin back to my house."

  "What was going on with him at break?" I asked, curious. Tightening my grasp on my shoulder straps, I walked briskly to keep up. "He just ran out at lunch and never came back."

  "I don't know, Shan, and sometimes I think I'm better off that way." Sighing, she added, "Something tells me that if I knew, it would be painful."

  "Claire." I looked at her sad expression. "Are you okay?"

  She nodded and offered me a watery smile. "I'm fine."

  "Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" I asked gently. "It's obvious that he feels the same way."

  "He doesn't," she mumbled. "It's all about the chase for him. If I give in now, he'll get bored."

  I pondered her words for a moment before saying, "He might surprise you?"

  "And I might disappoint him," she mumbled.

  I stopped walking. "What do you mean?"

  She turned back to face me but didn't respond.

  I studied her pained expression and blew out a breath. "Claire, you couldn't disappoint anyone if you tried."

  "Yeah."

  "I mean it," I pushed. "And least of all Gibsie. He adores you. It's as plain as the nose on his face that he's mad about you."

  "Because he can't have me," she muttered. "Because I'm the one girl who hasn't given into him."

  "I don't think that's it," I replied slowly. "Not in the slightest."

  "Listen, this isn't a new thing, Shan. You know that. Gerard and I have been like this since as far back as my memory goes. He's always 'wanted me' and I've always played it down –" Her words broke off and she groaned, like talking about this physically pained her. "Because I don't believe him."

  "You don't?"

  "No, I don't." Her brown eyes burned with vulnerability as she spoke, "I know Gerard Gibson better than anyone on this planet – hell, I know him better than he knows himself – and trust me when I tell you that boy can't pay attention to anything for longer than a day. I've seen it – the way he is with girls. He'll give a girl everything for one day and then he's onto the next one. I don't even think he can help it. I know he doesn't do it on purpose." Her cheeks flushed bright pink. "But I can't be just another day to him – just another girl. I don't want to pour my heart out to him, only for him to turn right around and realize that the chase was more fun than the catch." Shrugging helplessly, she added, "I think it would break me."

  "Have you talked to Lizzie about this?" I asked. "What did she say?"

  "I haven't told anyone," she whispered. "Just you."

  My heart cracked. "Oh my god, Claire…"

  "It's fine," she hurried to say, slapping on a bright smile. "I'm fine." Breaking into a brisk walk that had me jogging to keep up, Claire yanked open the glass door of the main building and ushered me out first. "Everything is fine."

  It clearly wasn't.

  "I'll come over," I blurted out breathlessly, struggling to keep up with her long strides as she trudged through the courtyard. "If you think it'll be okay with your parents?"

  "You will?" Her whole expression brightened. "Of course! My parents love you."

  I nodded and continued to waddle/run. "Okay, just let me tell Darren – and slow down. I'm not a racehorse."

  "Sorry," she giggled, slowing her pace to what I considered a brisk walk. "Thank you for doing this."

  "No problem," I replied, swallowing back a groan at the thought of facing Darren. "Anytime."

  When we reached the carpark and my eyes landed on Darren's blue Volvo, I missed my step and stumbled a little. I stumbled even further when I noticed the silver Ford Focus parked three spots up – not to mention the four boys leaning against the side of said Focus, with their heads down, deep in conversation.

  Righting myself before I face planted the gravel, I straightened my shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked over to the Volvo. The smile my brother was wearing slowly slipped when he registered that I was moving towards the driver side of the car rather than the passenger side.

  "What are you doing?" Darren asked, winding down the window when I tapped on it. "Climb in – I've got to get the boys home for training."

  Glancing into the back seat, I smiled at my three little brothers. "Hey, guys." Ollie and Sean smile back at me, but Tadhg ignored me, keeping his glowering stare fixed on the back of Darren's head.

  "What's going on?" Darren asked, dragging my attention back to him.

  "I'm going to go to Claire's house for an hour," I said, forcing back the words if that's okay. He was my brother. I didn't need his permission. I didn't. "I'll be home later, okay?"

  "Shannon, we talked about this." Darren's expression darkened. "You need to come home straight after school."

  "No." I shook my head and tightened my grasp on the shoulder straps of my schoolbag. "You and Mam talked about this. I never agreed to stay inside twenty-four-seven."

  "She's going to have a coronary if you don't come home," he bit out. "You know the way she gets. I can't handle her like that, so I need you to come home and help me."

  "I don't care," I shot back, and surprisingly, I meant it. I didn't care. Not anymore. "I'm going to spend some time with my friend like a normal teenager and then I'll come home."

  "We're not dealing with normal circumstances," he ground out, jaw clenched.

  Didn't I know it… "You can say whatever you want, but I'm still going with Claire."

  He narrowed his eyes. "Get in the car."

  I held my ground. "No."

  "Get. In. The. Car. Shannon."

  Anxiety flared to life inside of me. "No."

  Unfastening his seatbelt, Darren shoved the car door open and climbed out. "Get in the fucking car." Gripping the door with white knuckles, he hissed, "Now, Shannon."

  "Back off, buddy," Claire warned, coming to stand beside me. "I have a weapon –" she pointed over Darren's shoulder, "He's right over there and I'm not afraid to call him."

  "I'm not going to hurt her," Darren shot back, looking appalled. "I just need her to get in the car and come home."

  "There's no problem, Darren," Claire shot back. "Shannon's going to come over to my house. We're going to eat some junk, watch TV, and then my mom or Hughie will drop her home. No ha
rm done."

  "I'm supposed to bring you home," Darren stated, ignoring Claire. "You can go over to your friend's house some other day, when I've spoken to her parents first." Shaking his head, he placed a hand on my shoulder and steered me towards the passenger side of the car. "Just cut me some slack here and get in the car –"

  "No," I choked out, digging my heels into the concrete. "I'm not going home."

  "Shannon –" Exhaling a heavy sigh, Darren placed both hands on my shoulders and looked down at me. "It's not safe for you to be out."

  "She doesn't want to go with you!" Claire screamed at the top of her lungs. "She said no!"

  Stunned, I looked back at my friend, wondering why she had suddenly raised her voice. Darren hadn't hurt me – not physically, at least. But when I spotted Johnny, Gibsie, Hughie, and Feely all watching us with thunderous expressions on their faces, I quickly realized why.

  She was calling for reinforcements.

  Oh god…

  "Don’t do it," Gibsie was shouting, "Don’t fucking do it, Cap–"

  "Hey – what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Johnny demanded as he shoved past his friends, limp forgotten. "Get your fucking hands off her!" he roared. "Now."

  "I can't catch a break today." Releasing a pained groan, Gibsie tipped his head back, not bothering to try and stop the potential carnage. "Have at it, bulldozer – and don’t forget your crutch."

  "Don’t give him that," Feely snapped, snatching the metal stick out of Gibsie's hand before Johnny could. "It's a weapon."

  "Have you seen the size of him?" Hughie offered with a despondent sigh. "He's the fucking weapon."

  "Jesus Christ," Darren grumbled, spinning around to look at the boys. "Stay out of it, Kavanagh."

  "If you want to keep your arm, I would listen to him," Gibsie called out as he intercepted Johnny before he reached us. Slamming both hands against Johnny's chest, he tried to push him away from the car. "Because he's a little testy right now, and I'm not wholeheartedly invested in keeping you alive if he breaks free." Shrugging, he added, "Just saying…"

  "It's okay!" Jumping into action for once in my life, I slipped under his arm and backed away. "He wasn't doing anything."

  "He was touching you," Johnny snarled, glaring at my brother with an expression that was borderline feral. "He was trying to put you in the car."

  "And she said no!" Claire poked the bear by adding. "A million times."

  "I wasn't hurting her," Darren sneered. "I'm not that guy."

  "He's not," I was quick to defend. "He wouldn't do that to me."

  "I don't believe you, Shannon," Johnny shot back, livid. "You lied to me before." He narrowed his eyes on my brother. "And I don't believe him."

  "Are you accusing me of abusing my sister?" Darren asked, voice deathly cold. "Because you've got it all wrong."

  "Kind of like how your mother got it all wrong when she accused me of being a rapist?" Johnny shot back without missing a beat. "Difference is, I saw you put your hands on her, Darren." Narrowing his eyes, he spat, "So if I were you, I'd climb back into that car and get the fuck out of here before I do something we'll all regret."

  Darren stared hard at Johnny for several long, palpable moments before throwing his hands up. "You know what, Shannon?" he said, laughing humorlessly. "Mam might be fucked in the head, but she's dead on the money about him being like our old man." Stalking around to the driver's side of the car, he opened his door. "But hey – you do whatever the hell you want."

  With that, he climbed in and slammed the door shut. Revving the engine, Darren pulled out of the parking spot and tore off without so much as a backwards glance. I watched the three small faces staring out the back window of the car until it faded out of sight.

  "Well," Gibsie said in a cheerful tone, breaking the frigid silence. "That escalated quickly."

  "Yeah," I breathed.

  Understatement of the century.

  31

  Take My Advice, Or Not

  Johnny

  I bulldozed.

  I didn't need Gibsie or anyone to tell me what I already knew. Shannon was stone-cold silent the entire drive to Claire's house, keeping a full seat of space between us, letting me know in no uncertain terms that I had, indeed, fucked up. Furious with myself, I didn't say a word when I watched her walk into Claire's house, terrified of making a bad situation worse.

  Even now, as I heaved my body up and down on the chin-up bar fitted in Gibsie's ensuite bathroom doorway, I couldn't relax. I couldn't breathe easy, because I knew in my heart I had made things a million times worse for her. Shannon was only across the street, but it could have been a million miles away for all the good it would do me. I was so fucking mad at myself, I could taste it.

  "I should go over there," I announced for the fiftieth time in the space of two hours, and for the fiftieth time, Gibsie responded with, "No, you shouldn't."

  He was sprawled out on his bedroom floor with a pen and ruler in hand, surrounded by half a dozen textbooks, and frowning in deep concentration as he used that weird yellow paper that helped him to focus and make sense of his own writing.

  "What's that word?" he asked, holding up his History textbook to me. "Renown?"

  Locking my arms into place, I squinted at the text on the page before saying, "No, lad, that's renaissance."

  "Renaissance," he repeated, churning the word around. "What a stupid fucking word."

  I shrugged and continued pulling my body up, feeding off the pain in my muscles as they burned in protest.

  "Can I ask you a question?"

  "I already told you that I'd give you my history notes, lad," I replied. "You don't have to ask again."

  "No, it's not about school," he said. "It's about rugby."

  "Oh?" I frowned, interest piqued. "What about it?"

  "What do you think my chances are of getting one of those Academy contracts?"

  I paused mid chin-up with my arms locked tight and studied his face. "You serious, lad?" He looked serious. "You're not messing?"

  "I'm not going to go down the college route, Johnny – I can barely handle school as it is." He shrugged. "Mam's been on my case about what I want to do after school, and I like rugby." Sighing, he added, "If I don't make a plan, I'm going end up in the bakery with her."

  "You're good at rugby," I agreed. "You know The Academy were interested in you a couple of years back."

  He sighed. "Yeah, I know, and I fucked it."

  "You're still only in fifth year," I reminded him. "You have another year to turn it around."

  "You think I can?" he asked, grey eyes locked on mine.

  "I think you have the potential to do anything you set your mind to," I told him. "You've got the talent and that's ten percent of what it takes."

  "And the rest?"

  "Determination, dedication, and consistency," I replied. "The 30/30/30 effect."

  "I might need a hand with that," he muttered.

  "What do you need from me?"

  "To pull me into line," he admitted. "I think I can do it, Johnny."

  "I know you can," I replied. "I've always said that."

  "I know, but I didn’t want it before."

  "And you do now?"

  "I'm wasting my life," he said. "I'm letting all the opportunities slip through my fingers."

  "Yeah, well, I've been saying that for years, too."

  "So, what do I need to do?"

  "Quit smoking, cut back on the drink, and meet me at my house at half five tomorrow."

  "That's a bit late in the evening to start –"

  "Who said anything about evening?" I arched a brow. "5:30am, Gibs. The early bird catches the worm."

  "Oh shit," he groaned. "You're going to kill me, aren't ya?"

  I shrugged. "If you're serious, and you want it, then you'll get your ass out of that bed."

  "Lock your legs," Gibsie said then, turning his attention back to his book.

  "I can't," I bit out, breathing hard. "It's too sore." />
  "Well, if you went home and rubbed one out, you'd feel better," he shot back, not missing a beat. "And you'd be able to close your legs."

  "What would you have done, Gibs?" I asked, ignoring his dig. "If you were me back there?"

  "Given what you know about her family?"

  "Yeah," I grunted, breathless.

  "Exactly the same thing," he replied, confirming that I wasn't alone in my madness. "But I would have stemmed the threats of violence." He tossed his pen down and sat up. "That's her brother, lad."

  I arched a brow and gave him a don't bullshit me look.

  "Fair enough," he chuckled before admitting, "I would have killed him."

  I nodded stiffly. "Thank you."

  "But I'm not saying that's the right thing," he added, climbing to his feet.

  "Do you think she's still pissed?" I asked, gaze flickering to his bedroom window. "Am I in trouble?"

  "You're always in trouble," he mused. "It's like your thing."

  "You know what I mean," I grumbled.

  "I don't know," he replied, tone light. "I've never had a girlfriend. I have no fucking clue of what the relationship etiquette in this situation should be." Grinning, he added, "I usually solve my problems with my tongue."

  "Gibs–"

  "I'm serious," he added. "Mad at me? Have a lick out. Hurt your feelings? Let me eat you out." He shrugged. "It's all I know, lad."

  "Is that what you did today?" I narrowed my eyes. "Used your tongue to sort Claire's shit?"

  He stared blankly back at me.

  I groaned. "Tell me you didn't."

  "I'm not telling you anything," he shot back. "Let's just concentrate on your fuck ups for today."

  Fair point.

  "One day," I groaned, dropping my head. "One bleeding day and I made a hash of it."

  "Yep," he laughed. "It's a new record for you."

  "Fuck it –" Lowering myself back down, I rolled out my shoulders, groaning in relief when my muscles clicked and popped back into place. "I'm going over there."

 

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