He smiled down at me. "Hi, Shannon."
"Hi, Johnny," I whispered, staring back at him, feeling like my heart was two seconds away from bursting out of my chest.
"How are you?" he asked, voice deep, blue eyes burning holes in mine.
"I'm good," I breathed. "How are you?"
He smirked. "I'm good."
Dammit, there was that word again…
"Did you have a nice weekend?"
"Uh, it was okay." I felt myself blush. "Did you?"
"I spent most of it training." He smirked. "Same as always."
I nodded, not really understanding a damn thing that was happening here. "H-how was the party?"
"I didn’t stay long." Johnny leaned his elbow on the table, turned his body inwards, and gave me his full attention. "I just went to show my face really."
"How come?" I breathed, burning from being so close to him.
"Training commitments," he explained, thrumming his long fingers against the table, blue eyes locked on mine. "I try to avoid parties during the season –"
"Jesus, not you, too," Lizzie growled. "It's bad enough Thor over there is pulling his shit with Claire without you messing with Shannon."
Johnny turned his blue eyes on Lizzie. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," she countered.
"Am I not allowed to speak to her?" he questioned, arching a brow. "Do you not like to share your friends?"
"You know what you're doing," Lizzie shot back defiantly.
"You're right, Gibs," Johnny mused with a small shake of his head. Leaning back in his chair, he added, "Pierce is a bleeding saint."
"Total respect," Gibsie shot back, resting his arm around Claire's chair.
"Ugh," Lizzie sneered, giving both Johnny and Gibsie a disgusted look. "I hate you all."
"When you say all, does that apply to just us –" Gibsie gestured from himself to Johnny, "Or all men?"
"You most of all, you big, blond eejit, with your rugby shaped head," Lizzie snapped. Shoving her chair back, she stood up and cast a glare to Johnny. "And you're a close second, Captain Fantastic, for not having better control over that gimp."
Having said that, Lizzie swung around and stalked out of the lunch hall.
"Whoa," Gibsie breathed when she was gone. "That girl seriously hates me."
"She hates everyone," Claire replied, patting his arm soothingly. "Don’t take it personal."
"It's true," I decided to offer up. "She only likes, like, two people."
"Exactly," Claire agreed. "It truly is nothing personal. Lizzie's just protective of us."
"Yeah, well, I don’t have a rugby shaped head," Gibsie grumbled. He looked to Johnny. "Do I?"
"No, Gibs," Johnny sighed. "Your head's not shaped like a rugby ball."
"Really?" He touched his head self-consciously. "Because I weighed like twelve pounds when I was born, and my Mam's always bitching to her friends about how I wrecked her with my big head."
"It's a perfectly normal head, Gibs," Johnny coaxed. "Very circular."
"Not too big?"
"You grew into it," he assured him. "Fits you fine now."
Unable to stop myself, I snickered at the sight of Johnny comforting Gibsie.
"You laughing at my misfortune again, Little Shannon?" Gibsie shot back with a wolfish smile. "Go ahead and get it out of your system."
I shrugged helplessly, still grinning.
He was just so unusual and entertaining.
"Now, back to business," Gibsie continued, leaning back in his chair. "What do you want to see tonight?"
Claire frowned. "Tonight?"
"We're going to the cinema," he stated with a devilish grin.
"Who's we?" Johnny bit out, tensing beside me.
Gibsie circled his finger around the four of us.
My mouth fell open. "Huh?"
"She-wolf can come, too," he said to Claire. "If you promise to put a muzzle on her."
"Gibs," Johnny said in a warning tone, shaking his head.
"Come on, lad," Gibsie countered. "You can miss a session for one night – I need a dessy driver until I'm comfortable driving alone." Turning to look at me, he said, "What do you say, Little Shannon?"
I looked to Claire, who was staring back at me with mirrored confusion, and then to Johnny, who looked like he was in some sort of physical pain, before settling on Gibsie.
Say yes, Shannon.
Go with them.
You want to.
You really, really want to.
But he'll kill you.
You're a dead girl walking if he finds out.
I shook my head and croaked out, "I can't."
"You can't?" Gibsie frowned. "Why not?"
"Because I…I don’t…It's –" Shaking my head, I exhaled a ragged breath. "I'm not –"
"She can't go, Gibs," Johnny thankfully interjected. "Drop it."
"But –"
"Let it go!"
The bell rang then, signaling the end of lunch, and Johnny shot to his feet.
"Come on, asshole," he growled, glaring at Gibsie. "We have things to sort out."
"I'll swing by your place around seven?" Gibsie asked Claire. "Does that suit you?"
Claire nodded happily.
He gave her a huge smile before standing up and ruffling her curls. "See you then, Claire-Bear."
My gaze found its way back to Johnny, who was standing at the edge of the table with a thunderous expression etched on his face.
"Bye, Johnny," I told him in a small voice.
His features softened instantly as he looked down at me and smiled. "Bye, Shannon."
"Well that was the strangest thing that's happened in a while," Claire announced when the boys were gone.
"Yeah," I breathed. "Very strange."
15
Bathroom breaks and Propositions
Shannon
When people say something is too good to be true, then it usually is.
That was exactly how I felt when I stepped out of the bathroom on Tuesday evening after school and collided with a hard chest.
Surprised to find anyone standing outside the bathroom when the final bell had long gone, I let out a small squeak.
"How's it going, Shannon?" the blond, vaguely familiar boy asked, grinning down at me.
The halls were relatively empty, with only a few students rambling down the corridors, leading me to believe that he had been waiting out here for me.
After all, the girls' bathroom was an unusual spot for a boy to loiter outside of, especially one togged out in a jersey, shorts, and football boots.
Panic mixed with a large dollop of wariness flared to life inside of me.
"Um, fine," I replied, tucking and then re-tucking my hair behind my ear, a nervous trait. "How are you?"
"Better now I'm talking to you," he announced, confirming my worst nightmare, as he stepped closer, the studs on his boots clanging against the floor.
"Were you waiting out here for me?" I forced myself to ask, needing the vocal confirmation. Don't ask me why, but I needed to clarify the crazy. "In your –" I gestured to his attire, "P.E kit?"
"I was training and forgot my mouthguard in my locker," he explained, not one bit embarrassed by any of this. "I saw you going into the bathroom when I was heading to my locker so I figured I'd wait around to talk to you." Shrugging like his nonsense explanation was a perfectly acceptable one, he added, "I'm Ronan, by the way. Ronan McGarry. We have French together."
His tone was friendly, but I knew better than to be fooled.
Friendly could turn to bully in a nanosecond.
"Yeah. I know." Taking a step back to regain my personal space, I added, "Well, it was nice of you to come say hi, but I have to go catch my bus. It leaves soon and the driver won't wait –"
"I saw you on the pitch that day, Shannon," he purred, voice low, eyes alight with excitement. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about." He took another step towards me, invading my space once more. "In your knickers? Those killer legs… I saw all of you."
My heart sank.
Every muscle in my body locked tight with dread.
This was it.
What I had been waiting for.
The inevitable taunting.
I was vaguely aware of Ronan McGarry, having sat in front of him in French class the past few weeks, but I hadn't realized he was on the rugby team.
I hadn't noticed him on the pitch last week, but then, I hadn't noticed anyone other than Johnny that day.