"You don’t get it, Gibs. Last night almost killed me. I swear, I spent the entire night wide awake, staring at my keys and forcing myself to stay in my bed and not drive over there and bring her home with me," I admitted glumly. "I don’t have an ounce of self-restraint when it comes to her – which is why I need your help."
"So, what are you asking me to do here, Johnny?" he asked, smirking. "Are you saying you want me to cockblock you?"
"I'm saying that if you see me bulldozing over any lines, pull me back," I bit out. "I don’t trust myself around her."
"You do realize that the lines that exist between the two of you are the ones you've drawn in your head?"
"I can't go there with her, Gibs, and I won't."
"You're serious?"
I nodded. "She's too fucking dangerous to me."
"Because?"
"I just told you!" I snapped.
"No." He shook his head slowly. "You basically just went around in circles there, lad." Shrugging, he added, "I haven't heard a decent argument against her yet."
I didn’t answer him for three reasons.
The first, he wouldn’t understand.
Second, he wouldn’t believe me.
Third, I wasn’t sure I believed me.
"So, you're happy to just step back and watch McGarry or some other clown at school make a move?" Gibsie asked then. "You're completely fine with that?"
The way my body automatically coiled tight with tension was enough of an answer.
"She's a gorgeous girl, Johnny, with a lot of interest directed her way," Gibsie stated calmly. "Can't have it both ways, lad." He shrugged. "You either want her or you don’t. You either go for it, or step back."
"No," I snarled, tensing.
It was all I could say.
Just plain no.
"And you're sure you don’t want to try the whole girlfriend thing out with her?" he asked.
"It wouldn’t work," I groaned. "Aside from the fact that I'm too old for her, and she probably doesn’t feel the same, I'm too busy and too unavailable to commit to anything even remotely resembling a relationship."
"Says who?"
"You know what my life is like, Gibs." I exhaled another heavy sigh. "You know why I'm unattached. It's too much pressure and I can't afford to lose focus. I don’t have a spare hour in the day, and once the summer comes, I'll be out of here." I shrugged helplessly. "How's that fair on any girl?"
"True," Gibsie mused. "But she's clearly not just any girl."
"Exactly," I gritted out. "She's too… more …too… better…important –" Breaking off, I rubbed a hand over my face. "It would never work," I finally said, tone weary. "I would end up leaving, they would write a ton of shit in the papers and online like they always do while I'm gone, she would get paranoid, I would get pissed, she would end up getting hurt, and we would both end up completely fucking miserable."
"Whoa," Gibsie breathed. "You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?"
Every minute of the day since I first laid eyes on her.
I nodded glumly.
"Then be her friend," he offered.
I snapped my head up. "Her friend?"
"Yes, asshole, her friend," Gibsie drawled sarcastically. "You are aware of the concept of friendship? Believe it or not, you're actually fairly good at it. And if anything more is off the cards, and you can't stay away from her, then the friendship card is your best bet."
"But she's a girl, Gibs."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Johnny, I know."
"I don’t have any girls who are friends."
"Well then, she can be your first."
I pondered the thought.
Could I be Shannon's friend?
Could I just be her friend?
"Friends," I repeated, lifting my gaze to his. "I guess I could give it a shot?"
"Now you're talking," Gibsie encouraged with a pleased smile.
I could be her friend.
I would be a good friend to her.
I could make life easier for her.
I wanted to do that for her.
"But what if she doesn’t want to be my friend?" I asked, feeling that unfamiliar swell of uncertainty that seemed to accompany any thoughts I had of that girl.
"Keep that pathetic, shit-talk up and I won't want to be your friend, you big vagina," Gibsie snorted. "What if she doesn’t want to be my friend," he mocked and then snorted, "Go home and find your balls – remember who the fuck you are – and while you're at it, have a pull on your dick, too. Even if you pass out from the pain, having an orgasm has to be worth it."
"So, you'll help me?" I asked, choosing to ignore his last jibe.
"Have an orgasm?" Gibsie shot back with a shake of his head. "I love you, lad. But not enough to get you off."
"Fuck off," I grumbled.
"Relax," he laughed. "I'm joking."
"Yeah, my life's a big fucking joke to you, isn’t it," I snapped.
"Don’t be so touchy," he snickered.
"Gibs," I warned. "I'm not fucking around here. I need you to help me with this."
He let out a heavy sigh. "If it's what you really want?"
No.
"It has to be," I croaked out.
"Fine, lad, I'll help you," Gibsie replied with a sigh. "Even though it'll never work, you're doomed to fail, and I'll more than likely end up giving the best man speech at your wedding at some ridiculously young age because you'll have bulldozed the shit out of things, but for now, I will absolutely help you bury your head in the sand."
"That's not funny, Gibs," I snapped, bristling.
"I know," he replied – while he laughed his arse off. "It's hilarious."
"Not even a little bit," I groaned.
41
Block it out
Shannon
I spent the following week at home from school, taking care of my brothers and my mother, who, as I suspected, wasn’t speaking to me.
She wasn’t speaking to any of us.
Except him.
He was back.
Just like I knew he would be.
The miscarriage had been the perfect opportunity for my father to weasel his way back into my mother's fragile emotions.
When he came back that night, Joey left.
He drove away and didn’t come home for three days.
Those three days, I had lived in terror, fearing he would never come home.
He finally did.
But I knew it wouldn’t be forever.
One of these days, Joey was going to walk out that front door just like Darren had and never come back.
Mam returned to work on the following Saturday.
Like a robot, she dressed in her cleaning scrubs, walked downstairs, made herself a cup of coffee, smoked seven cigarettes, and then left for work.
I knew Mam shouldn’t be working in her condition, she clearly wasn’t in the right frame of mind, but when I tried to tell her, all she did was give me a watery smile, kiss my cheek, and walk right out the door.
I spent the entire day worrying myself sick about my mother and listening to my father tell me how it was all my fault she lost the baby.
I was the whore.
I made him lose his temper.
I was to blame for him putting his hands on me.
And I was the reason he shoved Mam when she tried to drag him off me that night.
I was the reason he slapped her around.
It was all on me.
Because I was such a slut.
That's right, I was a sixteen-year-old girl who had never even kissed a boy, but to my father, I was a tramp.
When he broke his promise of sobriety to my mother last night, I wasn’t even surprised.
When he used my neck as a squeeze toy, I didn’t even flinch.
I was just so tired.
A part of me prayed he would just get it over with.
Even though Joey had come thundering down the staircase and dragged Dad off me, the damage had been done.
He added fresh bruises to old bruises and I had spent a good portion of the night contemplating the worst possible thoughts.
There was no reprieve from this.
I had no way out.
Not in that house.
Not in a care home.
I was trapped.
When I stepped off the bus and walked through the doors of Tommen this morning, the relief that had flooded my body was so potent that I could taste it.
Returning after a week in hell felt like the greatest reward for surviving.
Seeing Claire and Lizzie again, and knowing they loved me, being told they loved me, helped piece something back together inside of my body.
When they presented me with a belated birthday cupcake and gifts at lunch, I almost cried.
When I gave them the PG version of what happened to Mam, they knew me well enough to drop it.
I didn’t want talk about it, think about it, or be reminded of it.
Ever again.