by Chloe Walsh
"Where are you going?" Darren demanded. "Joey, it's almost half eleven at night –"
"None of your goddamn business," Joey spat as he stalked out of the kitchen, carefully avoiding brushing up against me as he went – or making eye contact.
"Joey," I called after him, voice breaking. "Please don't go–"
The front door slammed shut and I was left alone with Mam and Darren.
"It's going to be okay," Darren said, turning to face me. "I promise."
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Darren," I shot back, trembling.
"He's right," Mam sniffled, turning to look at me. "Because I won't let him come back here."
"Don't say anything at all," I whispered, and without saying another word, I turned on my heels and walked up to my room, with my father's letter in hand, wishing I had appreciated the last two weeks of sleep I'd had, because I knew in my heart, I wouldn't be sleeping easy again.
He'll be back, was all I could think of as I climbed under the covers and curled up in the smallest ball I could. He's coming home – just you wait and see.
Somebody is going to die in this house.
Sooner or later…
I didn't close an eye that night.
35
Tissues and Ejaculation Issues
Johnny
"Are you dead?"
Gibsie's voice perforated the best sleep I'd had in years and reluctantly I blinked awake.
"Huh?" I asked, voice raspy and thick from sleep. "The fuck?" Pulling myself up on my elbow, I glanced around, spotting my best friend in the doorway of my room. "What are you doing?"
"I told you last night that I'd pick you up for school," he replied, giving me a curious look. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing." Yawning loudly, I ran a hand through my hair. "You woke me up."
"You're always up by now," he stated, eyeballing me. "Are you sick?"
"Do I look sick?" I shot back, pissed as hell that he'd woken me up from the first decent, pain-free sleep I'd had in months. "What time is it?"
"Half past five," he replied, frowning. "And no, you don't look sick, but you definitely look different." Rolling up the sleeves of his navy, school jumper, he approached my bed, watching me with suspicion in his eyes. "Peaceful," he noted. "And relaxed." His eyes widened then. "You came, didn't you?"
"Lad, it's too early for you." Dropping back down on the mattress, I grabbed a pillow, tucked it against my chest, and rolled onto my side with every intention of going back to sleep. "Give me a couple of hours. We don't have to be at school until ten past nine."
"But I'm ready to train," he pushed. "You said you'd help me. I need a life goal."
"And I will," I groaned, snuggling deeper into my pillow. "Just…let me sleep today, okay?"
"Imagining that pillow's your girlfriend?" Gibsie asked. "Little Shannon?"
"Fuck off, Gibs," I grumbled, closing my eyes. "I'm tired."
"Yeah, you're tired from pulling your balls," he shot back. "That's why you won't get up and train me."
"Go without me this morning," I mumbled. "I'll go with tomorrow… I promise."
"Fuck that," he pressed. "I'm never up this early –"
"Shh," I coaxed, keeping my eyes closed. "Sleep."
"Jonathon."
"Gerard."
"You fucked yourself into a state of exhaustion, didn’t ya?" he accused. "Jesus!"
"I'm not talking about this with you."
"Did you use the bottle of lube I got you?"
"Fuck off and let me sleep."
"Was it sensitive?"
"Gibs!"
"Did you chaff?"
"Jesus –" I blinked my eyes open and stared at the wall opposite me, counting to ten in my head, and striving for patience. "Just go away."
"Don’t be fucking coy with me," he scoffed as he flopped down on my bed beside me. "We have no secrets."
"Well maybe we need some," I snapped, rolling onto my back to glare at him. "Jesus."
"I'm not going to stop until you tell me so you might as well just get it over with." Folding his arms behind his head, Gibsie exhaled a loud sigh before adding, "I'm very invested in seeing this through to the end, Johnny."
I stared at him for a long beat before a shit-eating grin spread across my face.
Noticing my smirk, Gibsie's eyes widened. "Holy shit." He grinned, eyes alight with excitement. "For real?"
"It works," I clarified with a sigh of contentment.
"How was it?" he asked then, looking like he was genuinely delighted for me. "Same as before? Better? Worse?"
"It was satisfying," I told him. "But fair warning – you're lying on the wet patch, lad."
"Jesus Christ, Johnny!" Gibsie hissed as he catapulted off the mattress. "Ever hear of a posh wank? I gave you a fucking heap of rubbers."
"I'm not posh," I snickered. "And I just got it working again. I'm not suffocating the poor bastard."
"Look at my ass!" Gibsie howled, and I had to press the pillow I was holding to my face to bury my laughter. "Look at what you did to me!" he screamed, pointing to the tissue clinging to the back of his trousers. "Take it off," he instructed. "Take your fucking sperm off my ass right this instant!"
"No," I choked out through fits of laughter.
"You came on my fucking ass!" he roared. "Your cum is touching my body."
"Stop or I'm going to bust my stitches from laughing at ya!"
"Get up," he demanded, outraged. "Get off your hole and help me!"
"I can't," I strangled out through fits of laugher. "I'm weak."
"Yeah, you're weak," Gibsie snarled as he began to strip off his uniform. "Because you shot half your fucking body weight onto the bloody mattress." Tearing his jumper and shirt off, he kicked off his shoes and shoved his school trousers down his hips before stepping out of them. "You sick bastard," he growled as he picked up his pants and flung them at me. "You're such a…a…a wanker!"
I laughed because in all honesty, what else could I do?
"I feel like it's on me," he groaned, "Is it on me?" Gagging, he twisted around from side to side, trying to get a better view of his back. "I feel like it's touching my skin!" Glaring at me, he spat. "I feel fucking violated, Johnny!"
"It's not touching you," I strangled out, hardly able to draw a breath at this stage, as I threw his pants back at him. "You're grand, I promise –"
"Wash my uniform," he demanded, jumping out of the way. "Drag yourself and your big, swollen dick out of bed and wash my fucking clothes!" Narrowing his eyes, he hissed, "I don’t care if you have to crawl on your hands and knees down the fucking stairs, but you better take my clothes down there and wash them! Or else I'm taking your fucking uniform and you can wear your own cum!"
"I've cleaned up more of your bodily fluids than I care to remember," I shot back, smirking.
"I think your actual living sperm on my ass trumps my puke on your sheets, fucker!" he roared, shuddering from head to toe.
"Sperm dies off once it's released, Gibs."
"Not for seventy-two hours," he shot back with a shudder. "I was listening to the sex nurses yesterday."
"They weren't sex nurses," I offered, still laughing. "And at least you can't get pregnant."
"Pregnant?" he seethed, voice rising in outrage. "I am fucking pregnant! I'm pregnant with despair, Johnny! I have a belly full of fucking disgust right now."
"Boys?" Mam's voice filled the air. "What's the matter – oh, Gerard, why are you in your underpants?"
"Your son," Gibsie paused to point an accusing finger at me before continuing, "ejaculated on me."
"He did?" Mam asked with a hopeful expression on her face.
"Yes, he did!" Gibsie groaned, shuddering from head to toe.
"I didn’t fucking ejaculate on you," I shot back, torn between laughing and fucking crying. "I ejaculated and you sat on it."
"Same difference," he barked, furious. "Same fucking results, Johnny!"
"Oh, love, I'm so happy it's work
ing for you again," Mam said, sagging in relief. "But you shouldn't be interfering with yourself when your friends are over."
"What?" I gaped at her. "Are these words actually coming out of your mouth?"
"It's all over my uniform, Mammy K," Gibsie told her. "He ruined me."
"I know, Gerard, love," she coaxed, patting the big bastard on the cheek. "Go and get yourself in the shower and I'll wash your uniform for you. It'll be good as new."
"I'm hungry, too," he added, giving her the puppy dog eyes.
"I'll put a fry on for you, pet," she replied. "Now, go on in and get yourself washed up."
Shuddering, Gibsie nodded and stalked into the ensuite, discreetly giving me the finger as he went.
"Now," Mam said with a weary sigh as she bent down and retrieved Gibsie's uniform off the floor. "I know I might be behind with the times, and this isn't something I ever imagined having to say to you, Johnny, but please don't be ejaculating on Gerard."
"I didn't," I strangled out, mortified. "Why would I?"
Mam shook her head and mumbled something about, "Who knows with teenagers today."
"Ma," I snapped, flustered. "I had a wank. He sat on the tissue and threw a tantrum. I didn't ejaculate on him."
"And Jesus wept," Mam whimpered, pressing a hand to her forehead. "I could have had a daughter. I could have understood a daughter…"
"Well, you got me," I huffed, flopping back down on the mattress. "Dick and all."
"Jonathon!"
"Whatever, Ma, you should be glad," I tossed out, dignity long gone. "I might actually be able to give you grandchildren one day."
"Not with Gerard, you won't."
My jaw fell open. "I'm not gay!"
"It would be fine if you were," she offered.
"Thanks, I agree, but I'm still not gay," I shot back. "I have a girlfriend."
I could have kicked my own ass for letting that admission slip out.
Mam froze. "Shannon?"
Fuck it, in for a penny… "Yeah, Shannon's my girlfriend," I replied, sitting up. "We're together now, and before you even start, just know that nothing you or Da say about her is going to make a blind bit of difference to me."
"I wasn't going to say anything about Shannon," Mam replied after a long pause. "I think she's a lovely girl, love." Her brows were furrowed, brown eyes locked on mine, as she watched me carefully. "But her family –"
"I don't want to hear it," I cut her off by saying. "I'm not going out with her family, Ma, I'm going out with her."
"And what about what her mother said?" Mam whispered, paling. "She's only sixteen, Johnny."
"Look at me." I gestured to the bed and then the pile of clothes in her arms. "What do you think I was doing in here?"
"I don't know…" Mam worried her lip. "I don't want you to –"
"Grow up?" I offered. "Bit late for that, Ma. I'll be eighteen next month."
"Is it serious?"
"I'm serious about her," I replied, not missing a beat.
"How serious?"
"Serious enough that I love her," I offered, meeting my mother's eyes with steel in my veins. "Serious enough that I'm not going to be scared off."
"Are you…" Her voice broke off and she swallowed down a whimper before adding, "Taking your time?"
"We're not doing anything," I told her. "I'm not stupid, okay? So, don't worry."
Mam sighed in relief, her small shoulders sagging. "I do like her, Johnny," she added. "I think she's a smashing girl – and good for you. I think she's a wonderful influence on you, love, but I just…" She sighed again. "You're my baby, and I don't want you getting caught up in something that might affect your future." She gave me a knowing look. "I don't want you to make any mistakes."
"I've got my head on straight, Ma," I told her. "I know where I'm going and I know what I need to do to get there. I won't screw myself over."
"Well then…" Releasing another heavy sigh, Mam slapped on a big smile. "You should bring her over for dinner soon."
I blinked rapidly. "I thought you said –"
"I said you weren't allowed over there, but Shannon is always welcome in this house," Mam said. "Under supervision."
"I, uh –" Scratching my chest, I watched my mother carefully before shaking my head. "Yeah, I'll do that."
"Lovely." Mam smiled brightly. "And you should invite that brother of hers over, too. Smashing boy, but he seems so lonely. You and Gerard could make a little effort with him – maybe you could take him to the gym sometime?"
"Uh, yeah…okay?" Joey Lynch is as likely to drop a barbell on me as he is to spot me, but you're taking this well so I'll go with it… "I'll do that."
"Good boy. Now, bring your sheets downstairs when you're coming down for breakfast," she added before pottering off with Gibsie's uniform bundled up in her arms. "And next time, be tidier about it. Over the toilet bowl works for your father – less mess."
Fuck. My. Life.
36
Breaching Walls and Beaches
Johnny
"You could have really screwed me with the condoms, lad, and I've forgiven you, so get off your high horse and let it go," I reminded Gibsie when he pulled into the carpark at Tommen. He'd spent the entire drive from my house to school bitching about his uniform and I had spent the entire drive reminding him of the many, many times down through the years that he'd been a pain in my ass. "You're lucky Shannon didn't freak out on me because this conversation would be taking place in a different location," I added as I shoved the car door open and climbed out. "Like a hospital. Or over your grave."
"Well, I'll never forgive you for this morning," he huffed, rounding the car and falling into step beside me. "You came on me, Johnny."
"I'll come on you a lot fucking worse if you don't give it a bleeding rest," I snapped.
Huffing loudly, he grabbed the front of his jumper and dragged it to his nose. "What does your mother wash the clothes with?" he asked, inhaling deeply. "Smells like heaven."
"No idea, lad. The woman puts a ton of different crap into the machine for a load." Shrugging, I added, "Think it's the blue bottle that makes the clothes smell like that."
"Hmm," he mused, expression thoughtful. "Do you think if I brought a –"
"No, Gibs," I cut him off with a weary sigh as we rounded the courtyard. "She's not washing your clothes for you, so don't go there."
"Fair enough, I was only asking – oh shit!" Fisting the back of my jumper, Gibsie yanked me to an abrupt stop and then dragged me back to where he was standing, poker straight and glowering.
"What the hell, lad?" I barked, flinching when pain shot up my legs from the unexpected twist in direction.
"Look," he spat, inclining his head towards the front building. "That little shit."
Confused, I followed his train of vision until my eyes landed on Claire. She was standing outside the glass doors of the main building, talking to who I vaguely recognized as the lad Gibsie had roughed up at the school disco last year. Squinting my eyes, I asked, "Is that –"
"Jamie Kelleher?" he offered flatly. "Yeah."
"And we hate him again because…"
"Because he's a prick," Gibsie hissed, glowering. "He wants her."
"He's the ex-boyfriend?" I asked, narrowing my eyes to get a better look at him. "The two-week relationship?"
"Two weeks too many," Gibsie bit out, vibrating with tension. "I hate him – he tried to get her to touch his fucking cock, lad. At the disco." Growling, he hissed, "What the fuck is she playing at talking to him again?"
"No clue," I replied. "She's probably just being friendly."
"Well, she shouldn't," he snapped.
"Gibs, come on, lad, you need to simmer down."
"Fuck off," he shot back. "Easy for you to say."
Jamie obviously said something funny then because Claire threw her head back and laughed. He stepped closer, smiling down at her, and she placed a hand on his arm.
"That's fucking it!" Gibsie hissed. "I'm going
to kill him –"
"No, you're not," I instructed, returning the favor of fisting his jumper and dragging him back to me. "You're not going to do anything because you don't have the right."
"I don't have the right?" Gibsie spluttered, livid. "What are you talking about?"
"Exactly what I said – you don't have the right," I confirmed, keeping ahold of his jumper. "You're not with her, lad, so back down now before you do something stupid that'll evoke girl-tears and drama."
"He'll be the one crying when I get ahold of him," he hissed, jaw ticking. "He's a creep, Johnny. He's not good enough for her."
"Maybe," I agreed calmly. "But you'll be the eejit in Twomey's office if you go over there all guns blazing."
"Then I'm going home," he sneered, roughly shaking my hand off. "Fuck this."
"Gibs!" I called after him. "Come on, don't be thick."
"I'm not watching that," he roared over his shoulder as he stalked off towards the carpark. "I'm not fucking watching it again."
Give me strength…
"You know, all you have to do is ask the girl out," I said as I hobble/jogged after him. "She'll say yes."
"I know," he snarled, sounding even more furious.
"Well if you know, then why haven't you done it already?" I asked, frustrated.
"Because!"
"Because?" I pushed, resisting the urge to jump on his back and wrestle him to the ground. "You like her, she likes you." I threw my hands up. "What's the problem?"
When we reached his car, Gibsie spun around to face me, chest rising and falling quickly, car keys clenched in his white-knuckled fist. "Do you know what the statistics for relationships formed during childhood lasting are?"
Exhaling breathlessly, I shook my head. "What?"
"They're low, Johnny," he hissed. "Very fucking low. The odds of being with your childhood sweetheart twenty years from now are less than fifteen percent."
I gaped at him. "Again, what?"
"I'm not prepared to be another statistic," he choked out, sounding deadly serious. "Not with her. So, I'll do what I have to do, I'll bide my time, but I won't tie her down. Not until she's ready. Not until we've both lived a bit of life first." He dropped his head and released a pained groan. "But I won't watch that." He growled again. "Never a-fucking-gain."