"Fuck." Groaning, I shifted into gear and pulled away from his house. "So fucking bad." Tightening my hands on the wheel, I released a pained growl. "So fucking, fucking bad, Gibs."
"Are you going to say anything other than the word fuck?" he drawled as he pulled a blank CD out of his school bag and slid it into my CD case. "By the way, I burned this for you last night," he added with a smirk. "I think you'll enjoy it."
"Thanks," I grumbled, too distracted to concentrate on anything other than my raging thoughts.
"Now," Gibsie said, pulling out a box of cigarettes. He placed one between his lips and sparked up. "Are you going to tell me how you fucked up?"
"Roll the window down," I grumbled. "You know I can't stand the smell of those things."
"I presume this meltdown has something to do with little Shannon?" he offered as he rolled the window down and exhaled a cloud of smoke out of it.
I nodded again, feeling panicky.
All night, I had been waiting to get this shit off my chest.
I could hardly breathe with the pressure in my body – that, and my regrets, and the smell of her on my sheets.
I couldn’t even enjoy having dinner with my Da, something that because of conflicting schedules, we hadn't been able to do since New Year's Day.
All through dinner last night, I was too lost inside my own head.
I was too caught up in her.
"I thought you liked me."
Well, fuck me, my heart just about cracked when she said those words.
"What did you do, Johnny?" Gibsie pushed, dragging me from my thoughts.
"I did it again," I admitted.
He eyed me warily. "You drove her home again?"
Nodding, I released a strangled groan. "Except this time, I went one further and forced her into taking a spin home after school."
"Johnny–"
"I literally picked her up and put her in the fucking car, Gibs." Expelling another frustrated breath, I sagged back in my seat and groaned. "With my Ma."
He laughed. "You are an idiot."
"I know," I groaned. "And then Ma did what she does best."
"She meddled," Gibsie filled in knowingly.
"Brought her over to the house."
Gibsie's brows shot up. "Your house?"
"Oh yeah," I hissed, still feeling bitter. "Then she went and gave me the talk."
Gibsie shuddered. "Oh, Jesus."
"I know, lad." I shook my head, forcing myself to concentrate on the road. "It was brutal."
"Where was Shannon when this talk was going on?"
"That's the worst part," I replied with a grimace, as I indicated into the school. "Ma decided it would be a wonderful idea to make Shannon take a bleeding shower." I cast him an evil glare. "Another one."
"Are you shitting me?" Gibsie snickered.
"I shit you not," I bit out, turning up the familiar laneway to Tommen. "Ma also thought it was a fabulous fucking idea to take her clothes and put them in the dryer."
"Stop. I can't. This is too priceless." He threw his head back and howled laughing. "Mammy Kavanagh's a better wingman than I am!"
"Focus, Gibs!" I barked as I pulled into the carpark. "It was bad. Really fucking bad."
"How bad?" he asked.
I drove into my usual parking spot and killed the engine.
"How bad, Johnny?" Gibsie coaxed.
Exhaling a pained growl, I turned in my seat to face him. "She kissed me."
Gibsie eyes lit up. "Yeah?"
I nodded. "On my bed. In a towel. Looking like a fucking wet dream. She just fucking put her mouth on me, Gibs."
"In a towel?"
"Ma had her clothes, remember?" I strangled out. "She was wrapped in a towel and nothing else."
Gibsie grinned. "Nothing else?"
"Nothing else," I repeated, enunciating the word nothing.
"Did you see–"
"Yes," I snapped and then groaned loudly. "Fuck."
"And?"
"Perfect."
"Fuck."
"Yep."
"Well, shit, lad," Gibsie mused, expression thoughtful as he scratched his jaw. "I would never have guessed she'd make the first move." Turning to look at me, he asked, "What did you do?"
"Froze," I admitted with a pained exhale. "I completely fucking froze up, lad. And then she panicked and locked herself in the bathroom. It was a bleeding disaster. Took me ages to coax her out and even then, she wouldn’t talk more than three words to me on the drive back to her place."
"That –" Gibsie shook his head, "is a disaster."
"Of the highest order," I agreed glumly. "I tried to talk it out with her, but she wasn’t having it, lad. She didn’t want to hear a word I had to say."
"What did you try and tell her?"
"The truth?" I offered wearily. "That I'm leaving in a couple of months and can't commit to her."
"You're a little stupid for a genius, aren’t ya?" Gibsie mused.
I turned to glare at him. "Excuse me?"
"You drive her home multiple times, you take her out to the pub, to the cinema, you bring her home to your house – twice – and then she kisses you and you reject her," he shot back. "What did you expect her to do? Sit there and listen to it?"
"I did not fucking reject her," I spat. "I would never reject her!"
"Oh, okay," Gibsie snickered. "Sure, you didn’t."
"And you're the one who told me to be her friend," I accused.
"Well, I was wrong," he chimed. "You can't do it. It'll never work. Give up now."
"Yes, it will," I hissed. "It has to."
"Why does it have to work?" he asked.
"Because I need her–" I shook my head and expelled another frustrated breath. "Because I want to keep her in my life."
"You want to keep her, period," Gibsie countered. "Because you are ass over tit in love with that girl."
"Stop it," I warned.
"Fine." He threw his hands up. "I'll say no more about it."
We sat in silence for a long time while Gibsie smoked another cigarette before I finally broke it by saying, "Do you know that she's insanely good at PlayStation? Like fucking gamer good?"
Gibsie looked at me with surprise. "No shit?"
I nodded. "She kicked my ass, lad. I've never seen anyone clear missions as fast as she did."
He exhaled another cloud of smoke and tossed his cigarette out the window. "Did she have a cheat sheet with her?"
"She didn’t need one," I muttered as I pressed a button and rolled up the windows. "She had every bleeding code memorized."
"Oh, god," Gibsie groaned. "That is so fucking sexy."
I pointed to the passenger door. "Get out of my car."
"I'm not thinking about her like that," he laughed as he swung the door open and climbed out.
Yeah, he fucking was.
50
Period Leaks and Hero Boys
Shannon
When I woke up on Tuesday morning, it took me a ridiculous amount of time to drag myself out of bed.
I was in so much pain that all I wanted to do was bury my head under the duvet and stay there.
Knowing that staying home from school meant spending all day in the same house as my father was a big enough incentive to go to school.
But the thought of having to face Johnny again meant it was a close call.
I didn’t feel right.
My mind was reeling and my body was in agony.
By the time I climbed off the bus at Tommen, my body felt like it was trying to hack itself apart from the inside out and it was starting with my stomach.
I had Johnny's jacket washed, dried, and wrapped up in a plastic carrier bag in the front pocket of my schoolbag, ready to return to him, like Claire and I discussed.
I intended to give it back to him and bolt.
Better still, if I saw Gibsie, I could give it to him and be done with it.
All morning, I watched out for him in the hallways, but we never crossed paths.
A million and one ridiculous thoughts and worries filled my mind.
Was he hurt?
I already knew he was hurt.
But was it worse?
Was it his adductor?
Was he in the hospital?
Was he sick?
God, I was pathetic.
I would have dwelled even more on his absence if it wasn't for the god-awful pain in my stomach demanding all of my attention.
My stomach was cramping, with every one of my abdominal muscles agonizingly contracting like an attack of blades cutting me from the inside out.
This wasn’t anxiety induced.
No, this was definitely something else.