"Claire, you can't tell anyone that I like him," I blurted out, feeling panicky that I had let the cat out of the bag. "Please. Not even Lizzie and especially not Gibsie."
"I won't, I promise," she vowed. "But if you did text him, I think you'd be pleasantly surprised," she added. "I know Lizzie told you a bunch of stuff about him, but honestly, most of it's just fabricated gossip. Johnny's not the guy all the girls at school paint him out to be."
"Yeah," I whispered, "I've already gathered that."
He was better.
So much better.
"So, will you come with us next weekend?" she asked.
"I won't be allowed to go."
"Come on, Shan, you can't just say no," Claire whined. "Not without asking, at least?"
"I don’t need to ask, Claire," I croaked out. "I already know the answer."
"Then don’t ask him," she quickly said. "Just make up an excuse or something and come over to mine. We don’t even have to go with the lads."
I sighed heavily. "Claire –"
"We can have dinner at my house," she hurried to say. "And you know, if Johnny just happened to stop by, because of a rogue text message sent from my phone, then maybe you two could go up to my room and –"
"Stop it," I warned her, shivering at the thought.
Claire laughed down the line. "I'm kidding."
"You better be," I grumbled. "Because I would die."
"So, do you want to do that?" she asked, smothering her laughter. "Come over to mine for a takeaway and a movie? Or we could go to the cinema? Or out to eat at a restaurant? Whatever you want," she told me. "It's your choice and my treat."
"I love you for offering," I told her, biting down on my lip to stop it from wobbling. "But you know he'll never allow it."
Claire sighed heavily. "Shan…"
"Don’t," I pleaded quietly. "Please don’t say anything."
There was a long pause before she whispered, "I won't."
I sagged in relief. "Thank you."
"I'm here for you," was all Claire replied in a sad tone of voice. "Forever."
13
Creeping and winging
Johnny
Every day since starting at Tommen, I sat at the exact same table in the lunch hall for break.
It was close to the door and comprised of a thirty-foot banquet table, filled with my teammates and a few of their girlfriends.
I always sat at the end of the table, with my back to the wall, looking onto the rest of the room, where I had a crystal-clear view of everything going on around me.
I liked it because I had space to breathe and not have girls fucking groping me and touching my back every fifteen seconds.
Like always, Gibs and Feely sat opposite me, and Hughie sat to my right.
The difference today was both Hughie and Feely were in detention, and Gibsie was scowling at me.
"Could you stop staring at her for five fucking minutes and pretend to be listening to me," Gibsie hissed. "Seriously, lad." Tossing his sandwich down on the lunch table, he threw his hands up in frustration. "It's getting creepy, and you're putting me off my food."
"I'm not doing anything," I grumbled as I leaned back in my chair and rolled my water bottle between my hands absentmindedly.
Shannon was sitting at the opposite side of the lunch hall with her two friends, smiling and laughing at something Hughie's little sister was saying.
Her hair was swept back in two long braids resting on her small shoulders, and every time she wrapped one of those braids around her finger, I had to bite back a groan.
Seriously, I'd been sitting here for the past twenty-five minutes, not listening to one word Gibsie was saying, because I was too fucking busy watching a girl who clearly wanted nothing to do with me.
All weekend, Shannon had been in the back of my mind – okay, the fore point.
I'd spent days brooding over her reaction to me on the pitch Friday, and how she hurried away from me.
When she passed me in the hall this morning after first class, I had felt way too fucking excited to see her.
Of course, she smiled shyly before dropping her head and hurrying past me, but she was here.
She was in my space.
Which meant both my attention and my thoughts were fixated solely on her.
And I fucking hated it.
I wanted her, I realized, and it was entirely inappropriate and horrendous bad luck on my account, but I did.
I wanted Shannon Lynch.
And worse than wanting her, I really fucking liked her.
She had this sweet something about her, and I liked how it felt when I was around her.
I liked the way she looked, the way she spoke, the way she carried herself.
I liked a whole heap of things about her, and oddly enough, my liking her had nothing to do with what was under her clothes.
Well, that wasn’t completely true.
I thought a lot about what I would find beneath her clothes and I liked those visuals a lot.
But it was more than that.
It was all more when it came to her.
But I wasn’t in the position to put time into a girl, and spending time with that particular one could get me in a world of trouble.
I knew the way things worked; spend too much time with a girl and feelings arose, and where feelings arose, fucking arose.
It was a dangerous ledge to balance on.
One I was not willing to step onto.
"No, you're not doing anything," Gibsie drawled sarcastically, shifting in his seat so he was blocking my perfect view of her. "You're only mentally undressing her in your head."
"I am not," I growled, glaring at him from across the table.
I was.
I so fucking was.
Christ, was I that obvious?
"Yes, you are that obvious," Gibsie stated, clearly reading my thoughts. "And I'll tell you who else is obvious," he added, gesturing with his thumb to our right. "That evil bitch."
I didn’t need to look to know he was talking about Bella.
She was perched at the opposite end of our table with a few of the lads on the team from sixth year, where she had spent most of lunch trying to get a rise out of me.
It wouldn’t work.
I wasn’t fucking biting.
"Ignore her." Unscrewing the cork on my bottle, I took a deep swig of water. "She's not worth the hassle."
"Lad, I know I'm repeating myself, but I honest to god don’t know how you ever touched her," he groaned.
"Neither do I," I admitted, as I recapped my bottle and resumed my staring at Shannon.
He leaned back in his chair and arched a brow. "You should go over and talk to her."
"To Bella?" I scowled. "No fucking thanks."
"Not that demon," Gibsie countered with a grimace. "Shannon."
I shook my head. "No."
"She's a frigit, you know," Gibsie stated nonchalantly. "Or at least she was." He gave me a pointed look. "You haven't been sticking your tongue down her throat, have you?"
"No," I hissed.
"Okay then," he mused. "She's still a frigit."
I frowned at him. "How do you even know that?"
"I listen carefully," he snickered, tapping his temple.
"What?"
"I overheard the girls talking about it in Claire's bedroom a while back," he admitted. "That viper Pierce is tapping was talking about what a terrible ride he is, and it came up that Shannon has never kissed a fella." Frowning, he added, "The viper really doesn’t like me."
"Jesus Christ," I muttered, "You're listening outside the girl's bedroom now?"
When he didn’t deny it, I shook my head.
"You have a problem, Gibs. A big one."
"It's only a problem if you admit it," he countered with a knowing grin. "Isn't that how it works, Johnny?"
"Fuck off," I growled, knowing exactly what he was getting at.
"Go on, Johnny. Just go over there and talk to her," he encouraged. "You can do it."
"No, Gibs," I bit out. "Let it go."
"Why not?" he demanded in an exasperated tone.
"Because I don’t want to," I snapped.
"Liar."
"You know what? For a fella who calls himself my best friend, you're doing a shitty job," I growled. "I told you I'm not going there with that girl. I told you she's too fucking young for me."
"You're the one who can't stop staring at her," he barked.