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There was a big brown one and a small white one. Hugh said that Gerard’s daddy, Joe, was in the big brown one and his sister, Bethany, was in the little white one. Because they drowned last Saturday.
My daddy got Gerard out of the water. He jumped in and rescued him. With his suit and shoes on. And his socks. My daddy was a hero. That’s what the neighbors said.
“I prayed for it to be you,” I said quickly, needing to tell him all the things I had saved up in my head since the boat. Since the drowning. “When they said someone had been saved from the water. I prayed for it to be you.”
“What about me?” he whispered as a lone tear trickled down his cheek. “Who’ll keep me safe?” “I will, silly,” I replied, releasing his hand so that I could give him a hug. “I’ll keep you safe, Gerard.”
“I mean it,” he urged, turning to look at me now. “I can’t lose another person I love.” “You love me?” He nodded sadly as another tear trickled down his cheek. “I love you most of all.”
“You can’t be my sister, Claire.” “Why not?” “Because you can’t have the hots for your sister.” “You’ve got the hots for me?”
“I don’t see anyone.” His lips tipped up in the smallest of smiles before he added, “Except for you.”
Gerard’s were always warm. Except for last Saturday. His and Hugh’s First Holy Communion Day. The day our daddies took our families out on that big boat to celebrate. That day, Gerard was blue and cold all over.
“Hey, Gerard?” “Yeah, Claire?” “You’re still holding my hand.” “I know.” A shiver rolled through him, and he tightened his hold on my hand. “Sorry. It’s just…holding your hand makes me feel better.”
They are so cutie
Claire Biggs had a lot of things. My back. My attention. My heart. My soul. Yeah, she had all of me and that wasn’t an exaggeration.
Why be fucked-up Gerard when I could be Gibsie the fuckup?
My girl.
If drugs were to Joey Lynch what Claire Biggs was to me, then there was no amount of rehab that could sway me to kick the habit. Because she was the habit of my lifetime.
He is the biggest yearner
Christ, I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to do all the things lads did with their girls. I wanted to make her mine, but what if I was wrong? Not us as a couple, but me as a man? What if it didn’t work? What if I didn’t work? Because I didn’t feel things with girls. I never felt anything. I was numb to the point of being dead, and if I didn’t feel things with Claire, then it would confirm that my past had truly broken me beyond repair.
I knew her favorite song every year since August 7, 1989. I knew her secrets, her little habits, and traits that nobody else noticed. I wanted to waste my time on her. All of my time. All of the time.
One: Hugh was my brother. Two: Bethany was my sister. Three: Claire was mine.
Clenching my eyes shut, I took a moment to compose myself, to slide my comedic, carefree mask into place. It covered me like a blanket of deceit and protection. This was how I had managed to reinvent myself when my world crashed down around me. Not just reinvent myself. No, it was more than that. It was my personal resurrection.
The same way he hurt me.
“Snuggling my Claire-Bear equals a happy Gibsie. Running laps on the treadmill until I puke equals a very unhappy Gibsie.”
Eeeeeekkk
The thought barely had time to register in my mind when the first cry ripped from his throat. It was a torn, shrill, agonizing sound that cultivated from a memory I couldn’t erase for him.
His mask. The divide that separated the sensitive boy I adored from the humorous one all our other friends enjoyed. It slipped effortlessly into place. Gibsie belonged to the rest of the world. Gerard belonged just to me.
“See?” Grinning wickedly, Gerard waggled his brows at the same time as flexing his pecs. “I’m not corrupting her.” “Don’t you shake your tits at me,” Hugh warned,
“I’m as pure as the driven snow.”
Ok hunger games
“And take your share of those kittens back to your side of the street with you.” “And separate them from their mother?” Gerard gaped. “What kind of a monster are you?” “Cherub will be grand,” Hugh grumbled. “I was referring to your sister.” “You’re a head case, Gibs. Seriously fucking deranged.” “Ignore your cranky uncle, babies,” Gerard called over his shoulder as he sauntered out of my room. “Daddy will be back tonight.”
The faint scars that adorned her inner wrists had appeared in the months that followed her sister’s passing. After her parents put her in counseling, it seemed to stop. I thought she had it under control. Apparently not.
“Because she blames Gibs for what happened between Mark and Caoimhe.”
“Oh my god,” I squealed, feeling safer in this boy’s arms than anywhere else on earth. “Please don’t let go.” “Never,” he vowed. “Not in a million years.”
“Oh god, but my heart loves you most of all.” “Right back at you, Shannon like the river.” “You’re really for keeps, aren’t you?” “Just try to get rid of me.” Chuckling, he stood up from the sand in one swift move, taking my bestie with him. “I’ve got you, my little darling.” “And I’ve got you, Binding 13,” she cooed, attempting and failing to ruffle his hair. “So pretty.”
“You guys are so mean to each other,” Katie declared with a yawn. “It’s terrible.” “Nah, this is just our love language,” Hugh replied, draping a blanket over her shoulders. “I’d take a bullet for anyone of these assholes.”
Hugh gets it
Gerard had the best arms. They were delicious.
His brown nipples were pierced and adorned with itty-bitty silver hoops, and he had a tattoo on his left rib cage with the word Resilience in italic font that was decorated with a feather in black, and then a tiny Care Bear on his right hipbone.
Hugh and Patrick might resemble Josh Hartnett and Ryan Phillippe with finely cut, washboard abs,
now THAT is a comparison
Cheat meals and skipped gym sessions aside, he had the best ass of all the boys. Hands down, there was no competition. Gerard Gibson could fill a pair of Calvin Klein boxer shorts better than any other boy at Tommen.
Period gibs
It never bothered him when his other friends laughed at him for playing with a girl, and he never ignored me. Not one single time in sixteen years. Not even when it made him less cool with Hugh and the boys. It didn’t matter to Gerard. He always made me feel like I was his first priority.
“Hi, Gibs.” “Little Shannon.” I smiled. “How’s my second favorite girl in the world?”
awwwww
Shannon Lynch was his endgame, and Johnny Kavanagh was hers.
After all, it was his arrival in Ballylaggin that I credited with saving my life. If he hadn’t walked into my classroom that day, if he hadn’t offered me that chance to reinvent myself, then I honestly didn’t know where I would have ended up.
“Probably for the best,” I taunted, struggling to keep my smile in check. “All things considered.” You know, since the academy frowns on rapists that drive teenage girls to suicide and all that jazz.
HEY NOW
“Nah, he’s a Joey. Like Bono. He doesn’t need a last name. Iconic.”
Bono mention
“The fuck did you say about my girl?” He was on his feet and lunging across the lunch table before I had a chance to register that I was no longer sitting on his lap, but the seat he had vacated. “If you ever speak about her like that again, I’ll rip your fucking guts out your asshole and smear them all over your face!”
“Yeah, well, a little word of warning: you fuck with her, you fuck with me—”
“Call me fat one more time and I’ll sit on you,” I warned, outraged. “I mean it, Hugh. It’s called being big-boned. And yeah, so I’ve put on a few pounds over the summer. Big deal. I can lose the weight, but you can’t lose that face, lad.”
LMAOO
“How many kids?” “I don’t know, maybe two or three,” Johnny mused, draining the last of his pint. “Definitely not one on his own.” His brows furrowed. “Wouldn’t want them to be lonely.” “Girls or boys?” “What are you doing?” I demanded, glaring at Hugh. “Stop encouraging this behavior!” “Whatever Shan can give me,” Johnny replied, ignoring the appalled look on my face. “I’ll take whatever she’s willing to give me.” He frowned again, thinking hard about something before saying, “You know, I think I’d love a daughter.” He scratched his jaw as he spoke. “I’d be delighted with sons, too, of
...more
“My old fella is closer to seventy,” Feely said quietly.
BUMBA
“Okay then.” He nodded stiffly. “Are we still fighting, or can we hug it out?” “Hug it out,” I replied, bolting straight for him. “Definitely hug it out.” “Thank Jesus,” Gerard replied, wrapping me up in a bear hug. “Worst ten minutes of my life.”
“No, silly, Danny and Sandy,” I laughed. “From Grease.” His eyes lit up. “I fucking love that movie!”
“So, for Joey and Aoife, I was thinking Joker and Harley Quinn.”
“And then for you guys, I was thinking Edward and Vivian from Pretty Woman.”
“And then for Johnny and Shan, it’s a no-brainer.” Katie smiled. “Romeo and Juliet?”
“And then for Liz and Patrick, I was thinking something a little edgier like Morticia and Gomez Addams—you know, to match Lizzie’s personality.”
