Chapter Text
The Monday after the party felt surprisingly normal.
Which was irritating.
A small, admittedly dramatic part of me had expected the universe to acknowledge the fact that my weekend had been disastrous. Instead, Tommen looked exactly the same as it always did. Students flooded the corridors between classes, teachers yelled at people for running, and somebody had already managed to get sent out of class before first period.
Life, apparently, moved on.
I was standing beside my locker with Katie Wilmot when Aidan appeared at the end of the corridor.
For a second, I saw the hesitation on his face.
Good.
He should be hesitant.
Then he started walking toward us.
“Morning.”
“Morning,” I replied.
Katie glanced between us before slowly closing the locker she’d been using.
The silence stretched.
Aidan shoved his hands into his pockets.
“How was your weekend?”
I almost laughed.
The boy genuinely looked nervous.
“Interesting.”
His mouth twitched.
“Right.”
Another silence.
Honestly, I could have put him out of his misery. I could have told him not to worry about it. I could have made things easier.
Instead, I smiled, not very politely.
“See you around, Aidan.”
Then I grabbed Katie’s arm and walked away.
Behind me, I heard him sigh.
Katie waited until we reached the next corridor before speaking.
“That bad?”
I shrugged.
“Bad enough.”
She looked at me for a second.
Not pushing.
Not demanding details.
Just checking.
When she realized I wasn’t planning to elaborate, she nodded.
“Fair.”
And that was one of the reasons I liked Katie.
Lunch was spent exactly where most lunches were spent when I wasn’t with Ciara and Niamnh
With the boys.
Unfortunately.
I dropped into the empty seat beside Katie just as Gibsie reached across the table and stole a chip from Hughie’s plate.
“You’re an animal.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“It sounded like one. Animals are strong and fierce.”
Patrick groaned from across the table while Johnny sat beside him, pretending not to be listening to anything around him.
The problem was that I’d known Johnny for sixteen years.
I knew when he was distracted.
And he was distracted.
Very distracted.
I narrowed my eyes.
Interesting.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Johnny didn’t even look up.
“Nothing.”
“A lie.”
“It’s not.”
“It is.”
Gibsie immediately perked up.
“Oh, we’re doing this.”
Patrick sighed.
“We’re really not.”
“We are,” I informed him. “Because my brother is acting weird.”
“I’m not acting weird.”
“You got called to the principal’s office over a girl.”
The entire table erupted.
Johnny closed his eyes.
Katie laughed into her drink.
Hughie nearly choked.
Gibsie looked like Christmas had come early.
And suddenly my brother remembered exactly why sharing information with me was dangerous.
English was my last class of the day.
Mr. Callahan was discussing poetry.
A sentence I never thought I’d willingly write.
Normally I would’ve been half listening while doodling in the margins of my notebook, but today I found myself paying attention.
Not to the lesson.
To him.
The realization annoyed me immediately.
It wasn’t like I had a crush on him.
That would be ridiculous. He’s my teacher.
It was just…
Different.
A week ago he had been Mr. Callahan.
My English teacher.
The man who assigned essays and corrected grammar.
Now, whenever I looked at him, I remembered sitting in his car after the party, freezing cold and trying not to cry because I felt stupid.
I remembered him stopping.
I remembered him listening.
I remembered him treating what happened like it mattered.
That was all.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
As if sensing my attention, his gaze landed on me.
“Everything alright, Elise?”
The question was casual.
The same way he’d ask any student.
“Yeah.”
He studied me for a moment before nodding.
“Good.”
Then he continued teaching.
Simple.
Normal.
Exactly the kind of interaction that shouldn’t have stayed in my head for the rest of the afternoon.
The final bell rang.
By the time I reached the front gates, Johnny was already waiting.
Leaning against his car.
Looking annoyed.
His natural state.
I opened the passenger door.
Then stopped.
“Oh.”
A girl sat inside.
Dark hair.
Blue eyes.
Pretty.
Very pretty.
Immediately, my head snapped toward Johnny.
His expression warned me not to say a word.
Naturally, I ignored him.
“This is her.”
“Elise.”
“This is the girl.”
“Get in the car.”
I climbed into the passenger seat anyway.
The girl looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
I turned in my seat.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Her voice was soft.
Johnny looked exhausted already.
Good.
He deserved it.
“I’m Elise.”
“I know.”
“Oh.”
That surprised me.
Beside me, Johnny muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer.
The girl smiled slightly.
“I’m Shannon.”
I stared.
Then grinned.
“You’re much prettier than he described.”
Johnny almost crashed the car.
“I never described her.”
“Exactly.”
“Elise.”
“What?”
“Stop.”
Shannon laughed.
Actually laughed.
The sound seemed to surprise her as much as it surprised Johnny.
And just like that, some of the tension disappeared.
For Shannon, I bet the entire situation felt surreal
Girls like me probably had never been too kind to her.
Most girls that look like me whisper things about girls like her in hallways, laughed at her clothes, and made her dread going to school. Claire and Lizzie, her friends, probably hadn’t exactly helped either.
But I can’t help it, I am intimidating.
Popular.
Confident.
Beautiful too, even though this Shannon girl is gorgeous, I don’t think she ever noticed it.
The type of girl Shannon usually tried to avoid.
And for some reason I felt the need to prove her thoughts wrong.
I was loud.
Absolutely.
A lot.
Definitely.
But not cruel.
Not once.
By the time Johnny pulled into the driveway, Shannon was actually smiling.
Which only encouraged me.
A terrible mistake.
“I like her.”
“Oh my God.”
“I do.”
“Please stop.”
“I’m keeping her.”
Shannon smiled again.
Johnny looked ready to drive into a tree.
Later that evening, Dad drove me to collect my car.
Apparently Mam still didn’t trust me.
Rude.
The second I stepped into Molloy’s garage, I spotted him.
Garage Boy.
Still covered in grease.
Still looking annoyed.
Still rude.
Some things never changed.
“Good news,” I announced.
“My car better not be dead.”
Joey glanced up.
“It isn’t.”
“Excellent.”
“Congratulations.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“You know, most people are friendlier.”
“Most people don’t talk as much.”
The audacity.
Dad disappeared into an office to sort out paperwork, leaving me alone with the human embodiment of a headache.
For several minutes neither of us spoke.
Then, completely out of nowhere, Joey looked up from whatever he was working on.
“Tell your brother to be careful.”
I blinked.
“With what?”
His expression didn’t change.
“My sister.”
The world stopped.
“What?”
Immediately, he looked annoyed with himself.
Like he’d said more than he meant to.
I stared.
Then stared some more.
A horrifying realization began forming.
“No.”
He returned his attention to the car.
“Yep.”
“No.”
“Yep.”
I pointed.
“You’re her brother?”
“Kavanagh.”
“You’re Shannon’s brother?”
He sighed.
Long suffering.
Deeply regretting every decision he’d ever made.
“Oh my God.”
“Don’t.”
“Oh my God.”
“Kavanagh.”
“Garage Boy is Shannon’s brother.”
His eyes closed.
I was pretty sure I heard him mutter a curse.
And for the first time since meeting him, I was having a fantastic time.