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“Give me a name,” Johnny growled, dropping his hands to his hips. “And I’ll take care of it.” “What—no! I’m grand,” I quickly replied. “I have allergies.” “Me too. To assholes and bullshit,” Johnny snarled. “Now, tell me who made you cry and I’ll fix it.”
“Come on,” he said in a coaxing tone as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, tucked me into his side, and led me out of school. “I’ll take care of you.”
“Now,” I sneered, glaring down at their faces. “Who wants to call my girlfriend a whore to my face?”
“Boom, boom, fucking boom, Da,” I groaned, slapping a hand against my chest. “I’m done for.”

