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“Fine,” Lizzie hissed. “I was talking about Bella telling everyone that the reason you ended things is because you’re riding Shannon. I was talking about everyone saying my friend must be a fantastic fuck to turn your stupid rugby-ball head.”
“His head’s not shaped like a rugby ball,” Gibsie scoffed. “You said that about my head, too.”
“Not now, Gerard,” Claire admonished as she slumped onto the chair beside him.
“She’s lying,” Johnny snapped, bristling with tension.
“Obviously,” Lizzie sneered, shaking off Pierce’s hand as he tried to place it on her shoulder. “So now I want to know what you are you going to do about it.”
“Nothing,” I croaked out. “He’s going to do nothing about this because there’s nothing to do!”
“It’s your fault, Johnny.” Lizzie continued to talk over me. “This is on you. She’s your crazy ex. So, fix it.”
Johnny remained completely motionless for about fifteen seconds, eyes locked on Lizzie, not saying a single word, before bursting into action.
He shoved his chair back and stood up, eyes locked on me. “Come on.”
“W-what?” I choked out, gaping up at him.
“Come with me,” he ordered, holding out his hand for me. “We’re sorting this now.”
I looked from Lizzie, who had her hands folded across her chest and a satisfied expression on her face, to Gibsie, who looked ecstatic, to Claire, who was cringing, to the other boys, who just looked plain confused, before finally settling on Johnny.
He looked furious.
And expectant.
“No,” I strangled out, shaking my head. “No way. I’m not going over there.”
“She’s going to apologize to you publicly,” he told me. “She’s going to set everyone straight, publicly!” He glanced around the room before adding, “And I’m going to straighten out every other piece of shit that went along with her lies, publicly!”
“No.” My eyes widened in horror. “It’s okay. I don’t want an apology.”
He exhaled a frustrated breath. “It’s not okay, Shannon—”
“I am not going over there,” I repeated, trembling at the thought. “I don’t want to.”
“Fine,” Johnny growled, stepping around me. He kicked a chair out of his way, causing Pierce and Lizzie to part out of his way like the Red Sea before rounding the table. “I’ll sort it myself.”
“No—” Hurrying after him, I caught the sleeve of his jumper and dug my heels in. “Please don’t.”
Johnny dragged me along for about five feet before finally halting. “Then what do you want me to do?” he demanded, swinging around to face me.
“Nothing!” I spluttered, still clutching his sleeve. “Absolutely nothing.”
“I can’t do nothing.” He ran his free hand through his hair, clearly agitated. “They’re talking about you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head, ignoring the stares I knew I was receiving, and tugged on his sleeve. “I don’t care.”
Johnny stared hard at me for a long moment before shaking his head. “Yeah, well I do,” he finally said. “I fucking care!”
“Why don’t we all fuck off out of here for the rest of the day?” Gibsie interjected as he practically fell out of his chair in his attempt to intercept Johnny. “Take a breather from the drama,” he added as he clamped his hands down on Johnny’s shoulders. “And have a little craic.”
Johnny glared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Good plan, lad,” Hughie offered as he slid over the table and moved to stand next to Gibsie.
“I’m up for that,” Claire piped up.
