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I glanced down at the page and choked out a laugh. In neat capital letters were the words: SHANNON LIKE THE RIVER. WILL YOU PLEASE BE MY FRIEND?
The smile Johnny rewarded me with was wide, genuine, and breathtakingly beautiful. God, he looked like a different person when he smiled.
“He scores on the pitch, he scores on the bus. How many tries did you hammer into her goal line, Johnny?”
Something inside of this boy called to me. I had no idea what that something was, but it made me brave. It made me want to step out of my comfort zone and help him—even if helping him meant doing the wrong thing.
“How bad did it get?” To the point that I wanted to die.
“Why?” It was one word that was loaded with so many unspoken thoughts and notions, but it was all I could come up with. Johnny hesitated for a moment and then said, “Because I care.” “Why?” “I just do.” He shrugged helplessly. “I can’t help it.”
If feelings were objects, then I was teetering on the edge of a great precipice, and if girls were weapons, then Shannon Lynch was the greatest weapon of mass destruction my heart had ever been exposed to. Because I was fucked.
I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t fight my feelings.
I wanted to fight all her battles. I wanted to give her all her smiles and make her laugh and snatch her away from the rest of the world and keep her all to myself.
I just wanted her. For keeps.
But I already felt like I was drowning with her. That’s how consumed I was in this girl. That’s how much I loved her. Fuck.
“Hey, little Shannon,” he said, noticing me immediately. “What are you doing standing out here in the rain?” “Oh, I was just… I wanted to… He was… And I…” Flapping my hands helplessly, I gave up and shrugged. “I was worried.”
“I don’t want to know if he can play rugby or not,” I squeezed out as a wave of guilt swallowed me up. “I want to know if he is okay! Him. Johnny! The person. Not the fucking rugby player!”
He cupped my cheek with his free hand and tilted my chin up. “Because I shouldn’t do this,” he whispered. And then he kissed me.
“No, no, no, Da. I’m serious,” I slurred. “I think I love that girl.” “Well, who’s this girl?” “She’s a river.” I sighed and closed my eyes. “I’m keeping her, Da.” “Okay, son,” he coaxed. “You keep the girl.” “She makes my heart go, like, whoa.” “Is that right?” he mused. “So bad, Da.” I sighed. “Boom, boom, fucking boom.” I shook my head. “All the time.”
“Listen,” Gibsie said in a serious tone. “I brought a friend to see him.” “You’re my friend,” I replied with a sigh. “My favorite, fucked-up friend.” “I know I am, bud,” Gibsie coaxed, squeezing my hand. “And you’re mine.”
“Hi, Johnny.” “Boom, boom, fucking boom, Da,” I groaned, slapping a hand against my chest. “I’m done for.”
“Hi, Johnny,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Boom, boom, fucking boom, Da,” Johnny slurred, clutching his chest. “I’m done for.”
“I think I need you for keeps,” he slurred. “I think I need you for keeps, too,” I confessed. “You are so pretty,” he slurred. “That very first day. Boom.”
