Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

Any school has to be better than the one I am leaving behind. The thought entered my mind and I flinched in shame. Schools, I thought dejectedly, plural. I’d suffered relentless bullying in both primary and secondary school.

Claire and Lizzie,

Claire and Lizzie were to attend Tommen College the following September; a lavish elite private school, with massive funding and top-of-the-range facilities—

Ballylaggin Community School.

was labeled a frigit because I wouldn’t get off with the very boys

suggesting that I was anorexic and threw my lunch up in the toilets after lunch every day. I wasn’t anorexic—or bulimic, for that matter.

When I turned fifteen and still hadn’t gotten my first period,

Life, for me, was a bitter disappointment, and at the time, I had wanted no further part in it. I didn’t do it because I was too much of a coward.

My brother Joey

Where I was short, he was tall. I had blue eyes, he had green ones. I was dark-haired; he was fair. His skin was sun-kissed golden. I was pale. He was outspoken and loud, while I was quiet and kept to myself.

Joey and I had an older brother, Darren, and three younger brothers: Tadhg, Ollie, and Sean, but neither of us had spoken to Darren since he walked out of the house five years previous, following yet another infamous blowout with our father. Tadhg and Ollie, who were eleven and nine, were only in primary school, and Sean, who was three, was barely out of nappies, so I wasn’t exactly flush with protectors to call on.

twenty-three, Darren

when she fell pregnant with Darren at fifteen. Labeled

Like Joey, Darren was a phenomenal hurler and, like me, our father despised him. He was always finding something wrong with Darren, be it his hair or his handwriting, his performance on the field or his choice of partner.

Darren was gay and our father couldn’t cope with it.

Living with a homophobic father was torture for my brother.

Darren packed his bags, walked out the door, and never came back.

as good as vanished.

girlfriend, Aoife.

Mam had managed to scrape together the money for me to see a private counselor, but at eighty euros per session, and having to censor my thoughts at my mother’s request, I’d only seen her five times before lying to my mother and telling her that I felt better. I didn’t feel better. I never felt better. I just couldn’t bear to watch my mother struggle. I despised being a financial burden on her, so I sucked it up, slapped on a smile, and continued to walk into hell every day.

That was the day I stopped. I stopped lying. I stopped pretending. I just stopped. That day wasn’t just my breaking point; it was Joey’s, too. He’d followed me into the house with a week’s suspension under his belt for beating the living daylights out of the brother of Ciara Maloney, my main tormentor.

Both Mam and Joey encouraged me with relentless support, with Mam taking extra cleaning shifts at the hospital to pay for my books and new uniform which included a blazer.

Dad hadn’t worked a day since I was seven—fending for the family was left to my mother—but I valued my ability to walk too much.

Teddy Lynch

Being the only girl in a family with five brothers, I had my own room.

because Mam was pregnant again.

mera Mam no sabe lo que es netflix🤣

Shannon.”

“If someone gives you even the hint of shit, then you text me and I will come over there and burn that fucking school to the ground and every posh little rugby-head fucker in it.” That was a sobering thought.

was always fighting my battles, always jumping in to defend me and pull me to safety.

Ireland where it rained an average of 150 to 225 days out of the year.

“Shannon Lynch,” Claire half giggled, half choked out, squeezing me tightly. “You’re actually here!”

There were six or seven exceptional

My best friend for example, Gerard Gibson—

Aside from Gibsie, Hughie Biggs and Patrick were my closest friends.

was going well—right up until she face-planted on my dick.

khe? jajajjaj

Holding my hands up in the air and far away from her body, because I needed a sexual harassment accusation like I needed a hole in the head, I looked around for someone to help me, but no one came.

been given strict instructions to stay away from the Lynch girl. Her mother thought I was fucking bullying her and didn’t want me going anywhere near her daughter.

In a way, my childhood was robbed from me because of my ability to play rugby.

I grew up very quickly, taking on the role of a man when I was little more than a boy, coached and pushed, pressured and championed. I didn’t have a social life and childhood. Instead, I had expectations and a career.

six foot three, and growing, I was a big bastard.

6'3" I'm feral jaja

But go anywhere near that girl, and God himself won’t be able to save you.”

dear God when I get to heaven please let me bring my man

Playing with an injury was a common ailment for a guy in my situation, but after eighteen months of suffering with a chronic groin injury, I’d thrown the towel in and agreed to the surgery in December.

wasn’t sure whether my balls hurt more from the injury or the need for release.

Fucking Ronan McGarry thought I had everything handed to me. If he realized the sacrifices I made, and the limits I pushed my body to, I doubt he’d feel the same way. Then again, maybe he would.

Tommen College had an away match against some rugby prep school up in Donegal next month after the Easter holidays. It was an important game for the team, a final of

“He’s not that bad,” I replied and then quickly backpedaled. “Hold on—you think Claire’s in love with Gibsie?” Now Lizzie looked at me. “Isn’t it obvious?” she asked. “What girl in her right mind puts up with years of flirting and tormenting if she doesn’t have serious feelings for him?”

Jesus Christ, if I kept touching her after she’d told me to stop, there would be war. Double fucking standards.

Speedy Gonzalez—a.k.a. Johnny Kavanagh—who seemed to have an unlimited tank of energy.

wanted her, I realized, and it was entirely inappropriate and horrendous bad luck on my account, but I did. I wanted Shannon Lynch. And worse than wanting her, I really fucking liked her.

“I’m not looking at your penis,” Claire hissed. “So stop trying to show it to me.”

Jajajaja