Keeping 13: Boys of Tommen #2

Over a week had passed since I last saw Johnny.

I honestly didn’t blame him for not coming back to my house because even if, by some divine miracle, he still wanted to see me, I doubted his parents would allow him. Mr. and Mrs. Kavanagh had to hate me now. If my son was hanging around a girl whose parents were crazy, I would hate me, too. I would want my son to stay as far away from me as humanly possible.

For the first day, I reread the four messages he had sent me until the battery in his phone went dead. I couldn’t charge it because none of us had a compatible phone charger, so I just sat there, thinking about his words until I was blue in the face.

I’m not going anywhere. And I meant it. I promise. x

Just text me when you wake up, let me know you’re okay. x

I miss you. x

Can you call me? Can I call you? Are you free to talk? x

It was at the exact moment that the phone started ringing that it died in my hands. The tsunami of devastation that had spread through my chest as I stared at the blank screen and willed it to come back to life was potent.

It hadn’t turned back on and I hadn’t heard another word from Johnny since.

That was six days ago.

Joey was back at home though, making me feel a little less alone in that house. He even came with me to my hospital checkup, much to Darren’s dismay. The boys were happier – well, more content at least. I presumed they felt the same as I did; safer with Joey around. He had stayed, which was both a blessing and a curse because the tension emanating from him was almost too much to bear. To be fair, I was emanating some mighty fine tension of my own, all of it directed towards my mother, who I hadn’t spoken a single word to since the night Joey helped her to bed.

I couldn’t stand to look at her, if I was being honest. I had so much hatred and frustration festering inside of me that I didn’t trust my mouth when I was around her, therefore, I avoided her like the plague for everyone’s sake.

‘Are you ready for this?’ Joey asked as he leaned against my bedroom doorframe in his BCS uniform, watching me battle with the lid on a tube of foundation. ‘Shan?’

Today was the first day back to school after Easter break. I glanced down at my Tommen uniform and shivered, feeling the familiar swell of anxiety creep across my skin, souring my stomach.

‘No.’ Sighing, I tossed the tube on my bed and then sank down beside it. ‘I am so unbelievably not ready for this.’

Joey watched me carefully for a long beat before exhaling heavily. ‘Yeah, I know the feeling.’

‘I’m scared,’ I admitted. ‘About what they’ll say.’ I gestured to my face and the poor attempt I’d made to conceal the crusty scar that was still healing over from where Dad had split my cheek against the kitchen table. ‘About this.’ I chewed on my lip, hesitating, before blurting, ‘And about Dad.’ My voice was small. ‘They’ll all know, Joe.’

‘Shan –’ Shaking his head, Joey walked over to my bed and sank down beside me. ‘They won’t say anything.’ Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and blew out a harsh breath. ‘Your face has pretty much healed up and what hasn’t healed, you’ve covered with that war paint.’

‘War paint?’ I arched a brow. ‘It’s called make-up, Joe.’ Expensive make-up. ‘Claire gave it to me.’

‘War paint, make up… Whatever. It’s all the fucking same to me,’ he shot back with an unapologetic shrug. ‘Your principal knows about what happened, right?’

I nodded, knowing Darren and Mam had met with Mr. Twomey over the break.

‘Then you’ll be fine,’ he added, tone reassuring. ‘I promise.’

‘I don’t know what to say if anyone asks me about Dad,’ I confessed. ‘What if a teacher asks me?’ I shook my head, feeling panicked. I felt poisoned. Like I was tainted. Going back to school, knowing that there were people that knew about what had happened was a terrifying concept. It was common knowledge around Ballylaggin, and I was freaking out. ‘I have no clue how to handle this.’

‘You handle this with the truth,’ Joey shot back sternly. ‘Or you just tell them to fuck off and mind their business if you don’t want to talk about it, but you don’t lie anymore, Shan. You got that? You don’t cover for that piece of shit a minute longer because you’ve done nothing wrong.’ Straightening his spine, he added, ‘And if any one of those fuckers opens their mouth and gives you shit, I’ll come down there and sort it.’

‘The truth’s hard,’ I admitted quietly.

My brother nodded stiffly. ‘Especially when you’ve been programmed to forget it.’

I thought about his words for a moment. ‘Hey, Joe?’Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

‘Yeah, Shan?’

‘What are you going to say if someone asks you?’

‘I’m going to tell them to fuck off and mind their business.’

I sighed. ‘I wish I could do that.’

‘Do what?’

‘Be brave,’ I whispered, feeling wistful.

‘You already are.’ He turned to look at me then, green eyes full of pain. ‘So fucking brave.’

‘Don’t feel like it,’ I mumbled with a shaky breath. ‘I just feel like running.’

‘Do you want to?’ His tone was hopeful and a little desperate. ‘We could get on a bus right now and just go.’

My heart skipped a beat in my chest and I had to fight down the surge of unease rising up inside of me. ‘When you say go…’ I kept my eyes on his, gauging his reaction. ‘You mean for the day, right?’

Joey didn’t reply right away. Instead, he just sat there, staring back at me.

‘Joe?’ I whispered, heart racing hard now. ‘That’s what you meant, right?’

He forced a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes – I hadn’t seen one of those in a very long time. ‘Of course.’

‘Don’t leave me,’ I strangled out, clutching his school jumper in my hand. ‘You can’t go away again.’

‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ he replied, tone strained.

‘What about Aoife?’ I asked, clinging to the one thing I knew could keep him close. ‘What’s happening there?’ She’s a reason to stay…

‘We’re fine.’

‘And Shane Holland and his friends?’ My heart buckled wildly. ‘You’re not going to –’

‘No,’ he said, tone harder now. ‘I’m not.’

I don’t believe you…

‘Joey, your girlfriend’s waiting outside in her car for you,’ Darren’s voice filled my ears and I looked up to find him standing in the doorway, shrugging on a jacket. ‘You better get a move on or you’ll make her late, too.’

Without saying another word, Joey stood up and stalked out of my room, roughly brushing Darren aside as he went.

‘Good morning to you, too,’ Darren grumbled.

‘I’ll see ya later, Shan,’ Joey called back as he disappeared inside his bedroom, returning a moment later with his schoolbag slung over his shoulder and his helmet and hurley in his hand. ‘Chin up, kid.’

‘Joey,’ Darren began to say. ‘Can we not do the wounded boy act today and just be civilized –’

‘Eat shit,’ Joey sneered, holding his middle finger up as he thundered down the staircase.

‘Lovely,’ Darren muttered, rubbing his jaw. ‘He’s pleasant in the mornings.’

‘Depends on the company,’ I reminded him, tone petulant. ‘He was pleasant to me.’

‘Jesus, not you, too,’ Darren grumbled. ‘I can’t handle two hormone ridden teenagers this early in the morning.’

Then go back to your life. ‘Where’s Mam?’ I asked instead.

‘Work. Now, are you ready?’ he asked. ‘The boys are waiting in the car.’

‘You don’t have to drive me,’ I stated, eyeing the set of car keys dangling from Darren’s fingers. ‘I can get the bus.’

‘Come on, Shannon,’ he groaned. ‘Cut me some slack here. It’s my first day on the school run.’

‘I’m just saying that I could get the bus, like I usually do.’

‘Yeah, well, sue me for not wanting my sister standing around a bus stop at six o clock in the morning when the drunks are lurking around,’ he replied. ‘I’ll be driving you to and from school from now on.’

‘Because of Johnny?’ I pushed, jutting my chin out defiantly. ‘Because you and Mam don’t want me catching spins off him?’

‘No, Shannon, because our father is still out there and if he’s on a bender, you’re the first person he’ll go looking for,’ Darren snapped, and I flinched.

‘Thanks for the reminder.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, tone calmer now. ‘I’m not trying to upset you, but I need you to be aware, and I need you to remember.’

‘Yeah, well, just so you’re aware; I’ve never had a problem with any of the drunks at the bus stop.’ I swiped my schoolbag off the floor and gingerly slipped it over my shoulder before brushing past him. ‘Just the drunks in this house.’

‘Jesus,’ Darren groaned, trailing after me. ‘I’m drowning in mood swings.’