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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.
I. Hate. Him.
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.
She was disgustingly stunning.
Moments later, a stampede of teenagers came barreling up the court toward me, hunting down the rogue soccer ball. So, I did what any sane five foot zero person in my position would do; I ran over to the wall and flattened my back against it.
Me lmaoooooo
To be honest, I had a feeling the stomachache I was suffering was anxiety induced and father related.
Exhausted, I pulled my bib off and searched the hall for Mr. Mulcahy to ask him if I could be dismissed early and sit in the changing room. My heart jackknifed in my chest when I found him standing in the entrance to the hall, talking to none other than Johnny Kavanagh. Oh god. How long had he been standing there?
All day, I felt him watching me. Everywhere I went, I swear I could feel eyes on me. I knew he wanted to speak to me, which was why I had spent the day ducking and dodging him.
Mr. Mulcahy was tapping the clipboard in his hand, deep in conversation with Johnny—whose attention was flickering between whatever was on that clipboard and, well, me.
“He was staring at you back there—like completely eyeballing you,” she hissed, looking a little giddy. “Did something happen? Please tell me something happened…” “I promise you that nothing happened between us,” I strangled out, regretting ever mentioning it. “And he wasn’t eyeballing me.” “But you wanted him to?”
“But you should know that he was looking at you, Shan. Like seriously looking at you.” Claire clapped her hands together, squealing loudly. “Oh god, this makes me so happy.” “No, he wasn’t… And I don’t… I can’t… I just…”
“Don’t even pretend that he isn’t the most beautiful boy you’ve ever laid eyes on.” 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.
“Operation Binding Thirteen, anyone?”
“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.”
“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.”
“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 needed to work on myself. I needed to stop being scared all the time. It was hard, though, when I spent most of my waking hours in a constant state of paranoia and anxiety. Joey told me that I had to fight back.
“What about you?” Johnny asked then. I frowned. “What about me?” His blue eyes burned holes in mine when he said, “Are you okay?”
He had gorgeous hair. He had a gorgeous smell, too. One I couldn’t stop myself from inhaling as he stood far too close to me for comfort. Lynx deodorant, freshly cut grass, and boy all rolled into one. Who was I kidding; he had a gorgeous everything.
Again, Johnny blocked my path, caging me in with his huge frame. And just like before, I had to crane my neck up to look at him.
Shocked, I watched as he tossed my bag on the ground alongside his before lowering the zipper on his designer-looking jacket and shrugging it off. “Wh-what are you doing?” I strangled out, teeth chattering from the cold. “What do you think I’m doing?” he countered as he reached behind me and placed the hood of his jacket on my head and wrapped it around my shoulders. “You’re getting soaked out here.” “But you won’t have a jacket,” I blurted out. “But you will,” he shot back.
My Hearttttttt
“Nice catch,” I finally breathed, looking up at his face with a mixture of shock and admiration as he held my entire body up with one hand. His lips twitched. “Thanks.” “Well, you’re definitely better at catching than throwing.”
“You think I’d let anyone hurt you?” Johnny finally asked, his eyes dark and intense and focused solely on my face. “You think I’d let anything bad happen to you, Shannon like the river?” I stared up at him, unsure of what to say and uncertain of my feelings.
“Because I won’t,” he answered his own question by saying. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you,” he added, blue eyes dark and locked on mine. “Because I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, okay?”
“Ma, this is my, ah… This is Shannon,” he acknowledged, looking clearly uncomfortable.
“Keep your shoes on your feet.” Winking, he tossed my shoe onto my lap before turning back around and reaching for his safety belt. “Sorry,” I mumbled, red-faced.
Johnny turned back to face me and smirked. “My pregnant balls?” “No, my pregnant and your balls,” I spluttered and then cringed at my words. “Never mind.”
Lmaoooo
All last week, I had been behaving like deranged stalker, watching out for her in the halls, and growing increasingly agitated when she didn’t show. I put out feelers in the hopes of squashing any shite that might be going down without my knowledge, making it clear that anyone who fucked with her fucked with me.
I didn’t know why I was behaving this way. I only knew that something inside of me demanded I protect her.
The worst part was knowing that if my mother hadn’t shown up when she had, there was a very big chance I would’ve kissed her.
She was mine and I didn’t want to share.
She had her arms wrapped protectively around herself, with her long brown hair drenched from the rain and sticking in wet clumps to her face, and in my whole life, I’d never seen anything so beautiful. Jesus.
Unlike the huge modern kitchen he’d taken me into last week, this wing of the house was traditional and almost…regal? The entire upstairs landing was made up of stained hardwood flooring and gorgeous patterned wallpaper that was so clean and shiny that it looked like silk. For all I knew about fabric and designs, it could have been. This entire house and the boy holding my hand reeked of money. Lots and lots of money. It was terrifying.
Feeling achingly uncomfortable just standing in the middle of his room, I walked over to the pile of DVDs next to his television, hoping I knew one of the titles so I could spark up some conversation instead of just standing here like a dummy. My face burned with heat when I read the title on the DVD box on top of the pile—Pussy Pleasure XXX. “Fuck,” Johnny muttered when he noticed where I was looking. He hurried over and tossed the porno behind the TV. “That’s, ah…”
Lmaoooooo
“Well, you were a gorgeous child.” “Was?” Johnny quipped. “As in, I’m not anymore?” “Uh, no… I mean yes, of course… I didn’t… Um, you have all your teeth now,” I spluttered, feeling flustered and foolish for voicing my thoughts aloud.
I was terrible at most things in life, but I kicked ass at GTA. “Joey has Vice City and San Andreas and I’ve cleared both games.” His brows shot up. “In a week.” His mouth fell open. “No.” “Oh yeah.” I nodded, smiling proudly. “I’m the best.”
Johnny tilted his head to one side, giving me a curious smile. “Do you want to play a game?” I smirked. “If you want.” He grinned. “You think you’re that good?” “I know I am,” I replied, and for once in my life, I had the confidence to say that.
“Well, little girl, you better put your money where your mouth is,” Johnny shot back with a smirk. “Because I’m the best.” I snorted. “It’s on, little boy.” Johnny shook his head, clearly amused with my smack talk, and then hurried over to set up the game.
“‘No memory cards. Start from scratch, and the person who completes the most missions before dying is the winner,’” I mimicked his voice. “You never said anything about cheat codes.” “You’re dangerous,” Johnny grumbled. “And sneaky.” “I’m the best,” I cackled as I cleared another mission. “I did try to warn you.” “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect you to be the Bill fucking Gates of Grand Theft Auto, did I?”
“Because I’m a girl?” “Because I thought you were sweet,” Johnny shot back, and I didn’t have to look to know he was pouting. He’d been pouting for almost an hour.
“Now I know better,” Johnny huffed. “You’re a little demon.” Biting down on my lip to stop myself from laughing at his tantrum, I concentrated even harder on evading the cops hunting me down.
“Are you a sore loser, Mr. I’m a Big Rugby Star?” Johnny’s face turned a hilarious shade of red. “Don’t you like it when a girl beats you?” I continued to tease, using the same smack-talk taunts that drove Joey berserk when we played together. “Can’t you take your beating like a man?” “You are so lucky you’re a girl right now,” Johnny told me, lips twitching.
“She wanted a girl. They were told they were having a daughter, actually.” Grinning sheepishly, he added, “She got me instead.” “A six-foot-three rugby-playing son,” I mused, smiling back at him. “I can see why you might have thrown her.”
“You were mumbling in your sleep about my shower scalding you.” I turned beet red. “Oh god, I’m sorry,” I choked out, feeling nervous again. “Stop,” he warned with a smile. “It was cute.” “Cute?” I squeezed out, practically hyperventilating.
Yeah, she was. Shannon was kicking my ass at GTA and ruining other parts of my anatomy. I had no clue how I ended up getting my ass handed to me by that pint-sized girl, but that’s what happened. Watching her completely dominate my PlayStation was so fucking hot. Seriously, her skills with a controller, and her ability to kick my ass like she did, only made her infinitely sexier. She was fucking perfect.
Now I was trying to figure how to get myself out of a situation that only had one appealing result. Shannon naked on my bed. With me naked on top of her. Preferably in her. If my fucked-up dick held out.
“Doing a line?” I gaped at my mother. “What are you talking about? You know I don’t take drugs! I’m tested all the fucking time.” “No, love,” Mam chuckled. “Doing a line together as in secretly seeing each other.” Shrugging, she added, “I was trying to let you know that I was okay with you having a girlfriend, and I was trying to make Shannon feel welcome.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t see her like that.” Lie. Lie. Barefaced lie. “She’s just a friend.” More lies.
“I’m your mother. I brought you into this world, and I know every single time you tell me a lie.” “I am not lying,” I lied.
“Keep talking and I’m going to jump out a window,” I warned her. “I’m not messing around. I will go upstairs and hurl myself off the fucking roof.”
