"But?" I filled in, keeping my eyes trained on my hands folded on my lap, knowing full well there was a but coming.
"But I'm leaving in a couple of months, Shannon," Johnny finally said. "Once the summer comes, I'll be out of here and I won't be back until school starts."
"I know," I whispered, clasping my hands tightly together.
Joey told me all about it.
He was leaving to be a big star.
"That's the way it is for me," Johnny added gruffly. "And it's only going to get worse – longer stints away. More traveling. Permanent moves. That's what's coming down the line for me. Down the very close line. It wouldn’t be fair of me not to disclose that now." He sighed wearily and ran a hand through his thoroughly disheveled hair. "You need to know that I'm not going to be here for much longer."
"I know," I whispered, feeling the burning ache in my chest. "And I know I shouldn’t have kissed you," I choked out, voice torn. "Okay? I know that. It was wrong. I understand. I just…I just…"
"You just what, Shannon?" he coaxed.
"I thought you liked me," I strangled out.
"Jesus Christ," Johnny groaned, dropping his head in his hands. "Of course, I like you." He tugged on his hair and sighed. "I think it's pretty fucking clear that I'm mad about you." Exhaling a pained groan, he added, "But I'll be eighteen in May, Shannon."
"I'm sixteen," I whispered.
"I know, Shannon, fuck I know," he groaned, voice torn. "But I'm trying to do the right thing here."
My heart fluttered uncertainly.
I didn’t know what to think or how to feel.
He was rejecting me and telling me he liked me all in one breath and it was too much for my heart to take.
"For who?" I croaked out.
"For the both of us," Johnny strangled out. "My career is taking off and I need to stay focused. And you deserve someone who can put you first." He ran a hand through his hair again, looking both stressed and tired. "I can't do that." He looked me right in the eyes and said, "I want to – I really fucking want to. But I'm not in the position to do that for you." Exhaling heavily, he added, "I can't give you a relationship, Shannon, and it would be selfish of me to ask you for something I can't follow through on."
There it was.
The rejection I'd been waiting for.
"I didn’t ask you for a relationship, Johnny," I choked out, thoroughly humiliated. "I've never asked you for anything. So, don’t worry about giving me the let me down gently talk because it's unnecessary."
Johnny released a frustrated growl. "I'm not trying to let you down, Shannon, I'm trying to figure this out with you –"
"Listen, Johnny, I’m really tired," I whispered, turning back to face the window. "I just want to go home now."
"Come on, Shannon," he groaned, tone agitated now. "You can't avoid this."
I had every intention of avoiding him for the rest of my life.
I planned on starting that avoiding as soon as I got out of this car.
"Shannon, talk to me."
I remained silent.
"Shannon, come on," Johnny pleaded. "Don't be like this."
I didn’t think there was any other way I could be given the circumstances.
I kissed him.
He rejected me.
I put myself out there for him.
He turned me down.
It was my fault.
One hundred percent.
I accepted responsibility for my recklessness.
But that didn’t mean I was strong enough to listen to the painful verbal repercussions of my actions.
"Just fucking talk to me," Johnny demanded, unwilling to let this go.
"What's to say?" I croaked out, turning back to look at him, giving in to his relentless probing. "You don’t want me. I heard you. I got the message."
"You clearly didn’t if that's what you took from it," he shot back, looking furious.
When I didn’t respond, Johnny literally growled.
"Fine, if you don’t want to hash this out, then I won't say another word," he announced, throwing his hands up in the air. "Is that what you want, Shannon?"
"That's what I want, Johnny," I whispered.
"Suit yourself," he bit out, starting the engine again. "I give up."
With his words of rejection belting in my ears, and my emotions in turmoil, I clenched my eyes shut, and prayed for time to speed up.
I had the worst pain in my stomach to match the throbbing ache in my chest that seemed to blossom and burn with every mile he knocked up on the clock.
When Johnny pulled onto my street, I lied just like I had every other time he dropped me home and told him that my house was the one at the other end of the street, knowing full well that if my father saw me climbing out of his car, I'd be as good as dead.
However, I did not anticipate that he might turn off the engine again, which is exactly what he did.
"Are you okay?" he asked, turning in his seat to face me.
"Yeah," I croaked out.
He nodded slowly. "Shannon, listen –"
"You don’t have to say anything else," I quickly stopped him by saying. "It won't happen again."
He frowned. "No, that's not what I was –"
"I'm sorry," I blurted out and then grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. "I really am very sorry." Unbuckling my belt, I slipped out of the jeep and slammed the door closed before he could say another word.
I couldn’t handle more.
Not tonight.
Mortified, I hovered outside my neighbor's garden wall until it was clear that Johnny was waiting for me to go inside before he left, and then I did the only thing I could; I ducked my head and ran down the footpath to my actual house, not daring to look back at him.
Slipping inside, I closed the door behind me and exhaled a ragged breath before quickly searching the downstairs.
The house was empty.
Ollie, Tadhg, and Sean went to Nanny Murphy's on weekdays, with the exception of Fridays when Nanny dropped them straight home after school because she went to Beara on the weekends to visit her granddaughter and wouldn’t be home until at least eight o’clock.
Joey and Mam both worked on Mondays, and my father kept a stool warm at the bookies most evenings.
Nothing changed.
Miscarriage or no miscarriage, my screwed-up family went on as normal…
Thankful to have avoided another pointless confrontation, I kicked off my shoes and hurried up the staircase to get out of my damp clothes.
We had a second-hand tumble dryer in the utility room that I wasn’t supposed to use because of how hard it was on the electricity, but I was going to use it this evening.
I had no choice.
Back in the house of pain, I closed my bedroom door and then quickly stripped out of my wet clothes before throwing on my pajamas.
I was halfway down the staircase with my uniform balled up in my hands when there was a knock on the front door.
Pausing mid-step, I squinted my eyes and tried to make out who the tall shadow outside the frosted glass could be.
Another knock came, louder this time, so I hurried down the remaining steps and wrenched the door open, only to find Johnny standing outside in the rain, looking like some sort of semi-drowned angel.
Instantly, my heart jackknifed in my chest and then began to thud so hard it was almost painful.
Seriously, God?
Why?
"Hi," I whispered, clutching the door with a death grip. The step into our house was a least a foot high, but I still found myself staring up at him.
"Hi," Johnny replied, blue eyes locked on mine. "You live at 95."
I nodded, mortified.
"I thought your house was number 81?" He frowned. "That's where I've been dropping you off?"
I shrugged helplessly, feeling at a loss.
"Well, you left your bag in the car." Shifting my bag off his right shoulder, he held it out to me.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush once again. "Your jacket's up in my bedroom –I'll go and get it." I turned to run up the staircase, but he stopped me with a hand to my wrist.
"Don’t worry about it," he explained, quickly retracting his hand. "I'll get it off you at school or something."
"Okay."
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Johnny rocked back on his heels, considering me for a brief moment before blowing out a breath. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I whispered, not feeling one bit okay.