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took that beating for talking to you. For taking a fucking picture with you. You are the last person who can help me.
Don’t even think about telling him anything. His father’s a barrister. You know what those guys are like. They’ll get involved and you’ll all be split up and put into care. Like Darren…
She rewarded my attention by crawling onto my lap—or at least she tried to. She was a full-grown Labrador and I probably weighed less than her.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked out, pulling myself up on my elbows. “I was just, uh, playing with your dog.”
“Don’t apologize to me for seeing you,” he groaned, dropping his head in his hands. “Fuck!”
Releasing an unsteady breath, I reached up, grabbed Johnny’s neck, and pulled his face down to mine. And then I kissed him.
I didn’t stop moving. And I didn’t stop to talk. Because I couldn’t. I was in full-force panic mode, and for once, my flight instinct had kicked in.
What the hell was I thinking? Why was I feeling like my heart was shattering into a million pieces? And most importantly, how was I going to get out of this bathroom?
If she was being bullied at Tommen, then I was going to find out. If it was McGarry, then I was going to end up in a cell. If it was those fuckers from BCS, then they might as well lock me in a straitjacket.
Because my being here was temporary and that girl reeked of permanence. The best I could offer was friendship, even if that was the last thing I wanted.
My heart was on fire. Get it together, Kavanagh. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t kiss her. You know you won’t be able to stop.
I shrugged helplessly. I knew what was coming if we spoke. He was going to give me the talk. And right now, with my emotions frayed and my stomach churning from anxiety, I honestly didn’t think I could hear that talk.
“Jesus Christ,” Johnny groaned, dropping his head in his hands. “Of course, I like you.” He tugged on his hair and sighed. “I think it’s pretty fucking clear that I’m mad about you.”
“For the both of us,” Johnny strangled out. “My career is taking off and I need to stay focused. And you deserve someone who can put you first.” He ran a hand through his hair again, looking both stressed and tired. “I can’t do that.” He looked me right in the eyes and said, “I want to—I really fucking want to. But I’m not in the position to do that for you.”
“What’s to say?” I croaked out, turning back to look at him, giving in to his relentless probing. “You don’t want me. I heard you. I got the message.”
When Johnny pulled onto my street, I lied just like I had every other time he dropped me home, and told him that my house was the one at the other end of the street, knowing full well that if my father saw me climbing out of his car, I’d be as good as dead. However, I did not anticipate that he might turn off the engine again, which is exactly what he did.
Another knock came, louder this time, so I hurried down the remaining steps and wrenched the door open, only to find Johnny standing outside in the rain, looking like some sort of semidrowned angel. Instantly, my heart jackknifed in my chest and then began to thud so hard it was almost painful. Seriously, God? Why?
With my heart knocking around restlessly in my chest, I closed the door and trudged back up the staircase. I needed to lie down for a minute so I could process my thoughts.
What was I doing? Why was I allowing myself to feel these emotions? They were dangerous. I had to stop. He doesn’t want you. No one does.
“You’ll feel a lot fucking sicker if you don’t get your useless hole out of that bed,” my father warned. “Sick. Your mother’s fucking sick and she’s working to pay your bastard school fees, you ungrateful little cunt.”
I laughed at her enthusiasm because, in all honesty, how could I not? It was infectious.
“He likes you,” I told her. “And before you shut me down and tell me he likes everyone, I mean he really likes you, Claire. It’s obvious when you guys are together that he’s into you.” It really was. At school, they watched each other’s moves constantly. He was always coming over to her, cracking jokes and making pointless conversation. They behaved like an old married couple when they were together, with witty banter and quick retorts, and I couldn’t figure out why they weren’t a couple already. It seemed so inevitable.
“In his bedroom,” I confessed, and then reluctantly added, “On his bed.”
“I used to,” she agreed angrily. “I used to think he was a good guy. I used to think he was better than that reputation of his,” she growled. “Not anymore.”
“Thank you,” I replied, appreciating her attempt to console me. It wasn’t true, of course, but her words did help. “But you’re not allowed to hate him because of this.”
“Then he’s insane,” she grumbled. “If I had a penis or liked girls, I would want you.” “Thanks,” I half sobbed, half laughed. “If I had a penis or liked girls, I’d want you, too.”
“Just a towel.” I bit down on my lip, feeling my face flame with heat. “I think I flashed him my, uh, you know… and I don’t really know how it happened, but we both ended up on his bed,” I hurried to say, keeping my voice low. “And then he was right there, like his face was so close to mine…” Exhaling a ragged breath, I added, “And I just lost my mind and kissed him.”
“Damn,” Claire sighed. “I wish I didn’t have that stupid blitz tomorrow. I don’t want you being alone at school while you’re feeling like this.”
“I know,” I groaned. “And then Ma did what she does best.” “She meddled,” Gibsie filled in knowingly.
“That’s the worst part,” I replied with a grimace, as I indicated the school ahead. “Ma decided it would be a wonderful idea to make Shannon take a bleeding shower.” I cast him an evil glare. “Another one.”
“Ma also thought it was a fabulous fucking idea to take Shannon’s wet clothes and put them in the dryer.”
nodded. “On my bed. In a towel. Looking like a fucking wet dream. She just fucking put her mouth on me, Gibs.”
“Froze,” I admitted with a pained exhale. “I completely fucking froze up, lad. And then she panicked and locked herself in the bathroom. It was a bleeding disaster. Took me ages to coax her out, and even then, she wouldn’t speak more than three words to me on the drive back to her place.”
“The truth?” I offered wearily. “That I’m leaving in a couple of months and can’t commit to her.”
“You drive her home multiple times, you take her out to the pub, to the cinema, you bring her home to your house—twice—and then she kisses you, and you reject her,” he shot back. “What did you expect her to do? Sit there and listen to it?”
We sat in silence for a long time while Gibsie smoked another cigarette before I finally broke it by saying, “Do you know that she’s insanely good at PlayStation? Like fucking gamer good?”
“Oh god,” Gibsie groaned. “That is so fucking sexy.” I pointed to the passenger door. “Get out of my car.” “I’m not thinking about her like that.” He laughed as he swung the door open and climbed out. Yeah, he fucking was.
Was he hurt? I already knew he was hurt. But was it worse? Was it his adductor? Was he in the hospital? Was he sick?
I would have dwelled even more on his absence if it wasn’t for the god-awful pain in my stomach demanding all of my attention. My stomach was cramping, with every one of my abdominal muscles agonizingly contracting like an attack of blades cutting me from the inside out.
shes having her period
The pain was so bad I could hardly focus on my schoolwork, and I didn’t have the girls to distract me from it because Claire was at that away game with the girl’s hockey team, and Lizzie hadn’t shown up for school today. Knowing my luck, Lizzie was out sick with a vomiting bug and I was brewing the same.
“Excuse me, hun, but I think you’re leaking.”
Scratch that; I wanted to burst into flames and disintegrate into thin air because having a sixth-year girl point out the fact that you were leaking in the middle of a school hallway had that effect on a girl.
So, this was it. Today was the day Mother Nature decided to pay me a visit. Nine days after my sixteenth birthday. Better late than never. In the middle of school. Oh dear Jesus.
In my defense, how the hell was I supposed to know? Never in my life had I encountered such gut-wrenching pelvic stabbing. Because this was my first proper period.
I cleaned my skirt as best I could before slipping it back on. Then I yanked my jumper off and tied it around my waist to conceal the stain of shame. My legs were bare, my arms sleeveless, and I looked entirely out of place for March weather.
She was much older than me—and much more beautiful. Her black hair was cut in one of those classy bob-style haircuts that all the celebrities were currently sporting, and her face was flawless. She was tall and had a killer hourglass figure with huge boobs bulging against the fabric of her navy jumper.
“I’m Bella,” she announced, pushing off the sink. “And that”—she snatched the jacket out of my hands—“does not belong to you.”
She arched a finely tweezed brow. “Johnny just gave you his jacket?”
“Wait,” she commanded, gaze flickering from the jacket in her hand to my face. “I’m not done talking to you.”
“A nobody,” Bella said softly. “You are nothing, little girl. Not to him. Not to me.” She stepped closer and I had to force myself not to flinch. “So whatever game you’re playing, you need to back the fuck up because—” She paused to brush a hair off my shoulder, smiling sweetly down at me. “Whatever little drama you were having in that bathroom cubicle will pale in comparison to the hell I will rain down on you if you even think about going after him.”
