Binding 13: Boys of Tommen #1

He was, by far, the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen in the flesh.

However, I got the distinct feeling that without the allure of fame and money that was attached to him, these girls wouldn’t be so obsessed.

Then again, maybe they would be.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t care less about what shaped ball he kicked around a field.

Rugby was a sport.

It was a game.

It wasn’t all he was.

It was just one part of him.

The only part that mattered to these girls, apparently.

It was disgusting and I refused to join in on a conversation that reminded me heavily of the conversations I'd overhead girls have about Joey.

"I guess." I shrugged noncommittally. "He's a very good player."

Both girls laughed.

"She's totally blushing," Shelly teased. "Look, don’t even bother, Shan."

I frowned. "Bother with what?"

"Liking him," she replied. "Johnny doesn’t even look sideways at the girls in his own year, let alone girls in lowly third year."

"Actually, that's not true," Claire tossed back cattily. "He gave her a spin home from school." She cast me a mischievous grin. "Twice."

Blushing, I made a mental note to never tell Claire a goddamn thing again.

Both girls swung their gazes towards me.

"You lucky bitch," Shelly breathed, wide-eyed.

"You were in his car?" Helen demanded.

I shrugged, feeling very exposed in this moment, but didn’t reply.

"And she was in the papers with him," Claire added. "Hughie showed me. All the lads were talking about it because Johnny never stands in pictures with girls."

"He's never in the papers with girls," Helen accused. "When did this happen?"

"Before she went out to dinner with him at Biddies," Claire offered with a huge grin. "And the cinema. Oh, and after she spent her birthday at his house."

"Oh my fucking god!" Both girls gasped at the same time.

"Did you score with him?" Helen asked – actually, it was more of a demand. "Oh my god, did you ride Johnny?"

Claire looked at me with an expectant expression.

"No! God, of course I didn’t," I choked out, spluttering on my words. "Why would you even ask that?"

"Ah, because he's Johnny Kavanagh." Shelly rolled her eyes sarcastically. "And you were in his house. Any girl in her right mind would want to ride him."

"Not Lizzie," Claire waved a hand in the air. "She despises rugby players."

"That's because Lizzie is fighting with Pierce. She'll love rugby players again next week when he smooths her over again," Shelly retorted, then quickly turned her attention back to me. "Oh my god!" Planting her hands on her hips, she squealed, "Did you see his bedroom? What's it like? Does he have a huge bed? I bet it's huge. Is he driving you home from school again? Is that why he's here? Oh my god, are you two a couple?"

"Oh god, Bella is going to be maaaaad," Helen interjected. "She'll hit the roof when she finds out you're after her fella."

"Johnny's not Bella's fella," Claire snorted. "She, on the other hand, is everyone's girl."

"Actually," Shelly chimed in, holding a finger up. "I heard some of the sixth-year girls in the bathroom the other day talking about Bella being with Cormac Ryan now." Arching a brow, she added, "Apparently, she's been shagging him for ages."

"While she was with Johnny?" Helen gasped.

"Mmm-hmm," Shelly said. "Stupid girl, huh?"

"Well, Cormac's a good-looking guy," Helen replied with a frown. "But he's no Johnny Kavanagh."

"I know, right?" Shelly agreed.

Claire took a dramatic half-bow. "And there you have it," she said. "Everyone's girl."

"Still, though." Helen chewed on her nail, gaze flicking to mine. "Bella won't be happy about you."

"She doesn’t own him," Claire scoffed. "They were never an actual couple, and even if they were, Bella can't talk. Everyone knows that she's been riding half the school behind his back for months."

"Yeah, but he's her horse in the race," Helen reasoned. "Operation Bind Thirteen anyone?"

"Ugh, those girls are dopes," Claire grumbled. "I thought that stupid competition phased out last year."

"It did," Shelly said in a sulky tone. "Bella won."

"Operation Bind what?" I croaked out.

"Binding Thirteen," Helen repeated, staring at me like I was clueless.

In this instance, I was.

"What does that even mean?"

"The fifth and sixth-year girls had this stupid competition going last year to see who could get with Johnny," Claire grumbled. "They called it Operation Binding Thirteen because they're completely sad and unoriginal." She pulled a face before adding, "Apparently, Bella won."

"I don’t get it," I admitted, mortified.

"Johnny's jersey number is thirteen," Claire explained, looking thoroughly disgusted. "And binding is a rugby reference for engaging in a scrum – although, I'm pretty sure those girls meant engaging with Johnny in a whole different position."

"What –why would they do that to him?"

"Because he's impossibly picky," Shelly groaned. "And rarely looks at any of the girls around here. He's a complete snob when it comes to who he's with."

"I suppose he can afford to be with the kind of women he's surrounded by on those tours," Helen injected.

"True," Shelly said glumly. "Did you see those girls on their last tour?"

"The model?" Helen asked and gave a resigned nod. "She was like twenty-seven."

"They were all over the internet," Shelly sighed.

"Bella won't be happy with competition," Helen offered with a grimace. "Shan, you should stay away from him, because she'll scratch your eyes right out."

"She's a bitch," Shelly agreed. "It doesn’t matter if they're taking a break right now or not. She'll go batshit on you."

"They're not taking an anything because they were never in a relationship," Claire grumbled. "They were glorified fuck buddies, guys. It was hardly the romance of the century."

"It doesn’t matter," Helen countered. "You know what she's like, Claire. In Bella's eyes, she and Johnny are on a break, and she will lose her shit if anyone gets in her way."

"I wasn’t with him," I choked out, the fear of having my eyes scratched out by a sixth year making my stomach churn violently. It wouldn’t be the first time, and I still had a faint scar on my right eyelid to prove it. "I swear."

"Shannon, relax," Claire interjected, coming to stand beside me. "No one is going to touch you."

"I wouldn’t be so sure about that," Helen piped up, looking worried. "Bella can be a right bitch when she wants to be."

"Oh yeah?" Claire shot back, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Well, so can I."

"Wh-what?" I whispered, feeling like my stomach was about to fall out of my butt. "But I wasn’t... I'm not…I didn’t do anything –"

The sound of the school bell beeping filled my ears, interrupting me, and instead of trying to explain my way out of this messed up conversation, I grabbed my gear bag and bolted for the door.

"Shannon – wait!" Claire called after me, "Just wait for me!"

I didn’t wait.

Instead, I ran at top speed out of the P.E hall, pushing past the lads coming out of the boys’ changing room and stumbling down the steps in my attempt to get as far away from potential confrontation as possible.

I couldn’t take this.

Not today.

I couldn’t take another argument.

Not with my parents, or Bella Wilkinson, or anyone else.

I just couldn’t do it.

It was too much.

I made it to the laneway leading out of the school, feet still pounding against the concrete, when the heel of my shoe got wedged in a crack in the middle of the road and almost caused me to fall head-first onto the wet asphalt.

Thankfully, I managed to right myself in time to save myself from another concussion.

Aware that several students were openly watching my mini-meltdown, I slowed to a brisk walk.

Hobbling over to the footpath, I waited for a large crowd of boys to pass before falling into step several feet behind them.

Jesus.

Were Helen and Shelly right?

Was Bella going to come after me?

Because Johnny gave me a spin home?

Oh god my heart, my poor, frazzled heart was battering my ribcage.

My stomach was rolling.

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