She was a hard one to figure out.
She held a lot back and I never truly knew what she was thinking or feeling, unlike Claire, who was an open book.
I guess that's why I had always been closer to Claire growing up.
I loved Lizzie, of course, and considered her a good friend, but if I was to have a best friend, then it would be Claire.
"Besides, I'm not really into being the third wheel with those two," Claire added, setting her spoon into her lunch box. "So, what do you say? Mam will pick us up and drop you home whenever you want to go." She leaned back in her chair and flashed me a megawatt smile. "Or you could always sleep over?"
My stomach did a little flip. "Are you sure your Mam won't mind?"
"Shannon, of course she won't mind," Claire replied, giving me a strange look. "My Mam and Dad both love you." Smiling, she added, "Mam is constantly on my case asking when you're coming over again."
A warm sensation flooded me.
Mrs. Biggs nursed in the intensive care unit in the hospital in Cork city, and she was one of the nicest ladies I had ever met.
Claire was a lot like her mother with a sweet nature and a kind heart.
When we were little and Claire and Lizzie were having a birthday party or a playdate, Mrs. Biggs always made it her business to come pick me up.
I was even invited to Claire's older brother's birthday parties, and although I never attended Hughie's parties, I appreciated the invite.
They were the only invites I got growing up.
"I'd love to, but I'll have to check with my parents," I told her and then proceeded to pull out my phone and text my brother to scope out the mood at home.
"It'll be great," she encouraged happily. "There's a tub of Ben and Jerry's in the freezer and I got the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie on DVD." Waggling her brows, she added, "Johnny and Orlando, what girl can say no to that?"
"Not you," I laughed. Claire was obsessed with Johnny Depp.
He was her wallpaper on her phone and his face was plastered all over her bedroom walls.
"I love him," she announced with a dreamy sigh. "I do. It's real, hardcore love, and one day he'll come to Ireland, see me and instantly reciprocate my feelings. And then we'll run away together and create adorable hybrid pirate babies."
"That sounds like a plan," I snickered. "Although, you do realize he's not an actual pirate, don’t you?"
"Shh!" Claire chuckled. "Don’t take that away from me. Let me enjoy the visual."
My phone vibrated in my hand then with a text from Joey.
Bad idea, Shan. He's on the warpath.
Dejected, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and released a heavy sigh. "I can't come over."
"Your dad?" she asked sadly.
I nodded.
Claire looked as disappointed as I felt but she didn’t push it.
Deep down, I think she knew.
I never verbalized it and she never pushed.
That's why I loved her.
"Another time then." Claire offered me a huge smile that almost masked the concern in her brown eyes.
Almost.
"We'll plan it better next time – give you some notice," she quickly carried on, tucking her long blonde hair behind her ears. "But our Johnny and Orlando session is definitely happening!"
"How's it going Claire-bear?" A deep, male voice asked, distracting us both.
"Oh, hey Gerard," Claire acknowledged in a nonchalant tone, as she looked up at the ginormous, blond boy standing at the end of our table. "How are you?"
"Better now I'm talking to you," he purred as he walked over and propped his ass on the table, keeping his huge back to me and his attention locked on my friend. "You're looking as lovely as always."
Claire's gaze darted from his face to mine and she gave me a WTF eye-bulge before quickly sobering her features and saying, "Didn’t I hear you spin that same line to Megan Crean on Wednesday?"
I swallowed back a laugh as I watched my friend play the indifference card like a pro, even though she was clearly affected by this boy.
He was tall and tanned, with dirty blond, mussed up hair, and clearly packing some serious muscle beneath his school uniform.
I didn’t blame her for being affected by a boy who looked like that.
Most girls would.
Just not this girl.
"Are you jealous?" Gerard teased, tone highly flirtatious. "You know you're my number one."
"Spare me," Claire fake gagged.
"I hear you're coming to Donegal with the team?" he asked her. "Your class got the go-ahead, didn’t they?"
"Yeah, our class was picked to go," Claire replied breezily. "Mam hasn’t signed the permission slip for me to go, though."
Neither had mine.
Tommen College had an away match against some rugby prep school up in Donegal next month after the Easter holidays.
It was an important game for the team, a final of some league cup or another, and my class, along with one other class from sixth year, had been selected at random to attend.
Because the match was being held on the first Friday we were due back to school after Easter break, the school bus was departing from Tommen at 10:45pm on the Thursday night to beat traffic and allow for pitstops since northern Donegal was at least an eight-hour journey from Cork via bus.
According to Lizzie, Tommen's P.A. were a bunch of tight-asses and had only allocated funding for one night's accommodation for the trip.
We would be sleeping on the bus on the Thursday night, staying in a hotel on the Friday night and then traveling back to Cork on the Saturday.
Lizzie was thoroughly disgusted with the concept of having to sleep on the bus because the school heads were being stingy and wouldn’t cough up the funds for an extra night in a hotel.
Personally, I couldn’t see what the problem was.
It was an all-expenses paid trip funded by the school and an approved day off school.
Aside from the eight-hour bus ride with the majority of the passengers being testosterone filled teenage boys, it was a win-win.
Of course, that part terrified me to my core, but I was beginning to learn how to manage my anxiety, refusing to allow my past experiences to ruin an opportunity at a much-needed break.
I was trying really hard to just stand back, take a moment, and read situations and scenarios with clear, rational thoughts rather than the terror-induced paranoia that seemed to control me.
Regardless of my enthusiasm at the prospect of getting away from Ballylaggin for a couple of nights, I wasn’t holding out much hope on going.
Because it was an overnight trip, the school required permission slips to be signed by our parents.
I'd given Mam the forms that needed to be signed in order for me to attend last week.
As of this morning, it still laid unsigned on top of the bread-bin at home.
"Ah, your mammy will let you go," the blond god teased, ruffling Claire's hair. "Sure big brother will be there to keep an eye on ya – and myself of course." He leaned closer and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I always play better when I know you're watching."
Now I did laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the cheesy chat up line.
I knew my stuff about sports and I had yet to meet a guy who played better because of a girl.
However, when I tried to stifle my laugh, it ended up coming out like a snort.
Slapping a hand over my mouth, I stared at Claire's horrified expression and mouthed sorry behind my fingers.
As if only just noticing I was present, the blond guy turned around, probably to seek out the snorting culprit.
His gaze landed on my face and immediate recognition flickered in his striking silvery/grey eyes.
"Hey! Little Shannon," he acknowledged, smiling warmly. "How's it going?"
"Uh, fine," I strangled out, as I stared up at him and wondered how the hell he knew my name.
I glanced to Claire who shrugged and gave me a look that told me she was as confused as I was.
"I didn’t know you were friends with Shannon," he said, turning his attention back to Claire. "That would have been useful information."
"Uh, I didn’t know you were friends with Shannon?" Claire offered blankly. "And useful for what?"