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He nodded stiffly.
Trembling, I reached up and cupped his jaw. “I meant it when I told you that I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
I felt his body turn rigid, but I didn’t move away, the need to comfort him pushing me forward.
“I don’t agree with your choices,” I croaked out. “But I respect that they are yours to make.”
Something inside of this boy called to me. I had no idea what that something was, but it made me brave. It made me want to step out of my comfort zone and help him—even if helping him meant doing the wrong thing.
“I can keep a secret, Johnny Kavanagh,” I whispered, stroking his cheek with my fingers. “And I promise I’ll keep yours.”
With his hand still cupping the side of my neck, Johnny exhaled a heavy sigh and let his head fall forward, his hair brushing my neck.
“I’m in so much pain, Shannon,” he confessed, tone thick and gruff. “All the time,” he added, covering my hand with his. “It hurts so bad I can hardly sleep at night. I can’t concentrate for shit at school. I’m fucking up on the pitch. In training. Everything’s going to hell, and the only person I can talk to about it is a girl I barely know.” Exhaling a heavy breath, he pulled me closer. “You’re the only thing that distracts me, the only thing I can concentrate on, and I don’t even know you. I feel closer to you than my own teammates. I’m telling you things I wouldn’t tell my best friend. How fucked up is that?”
“It’s not fucked up.” My heart was hammering so hard against my rib cage that it was making my breathing come hard and fast. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” Johnny refuted, burying his face in my neck. “Not one bleeding thing about what’s going on in my life right now is okay.”
One moment, he had his face buried in my neck and the next he was gone.
“Fuck,” Johnny growled, jerking away from me like I had scalded him. “Fuck!” he repeated, running a hand through his hair. “I did it again. I did it a-fucking-gain.”
Stunned, I remained on my knees, watching his every move.
“Is there any chance of you forgetting everything I just said?” he asked in a half-hearted tone as he looked at me, eyes burning with desperation.
Unable to form words, I just stared back at him, shaking my head. I couldn’t pretend. Not anymore.
“No,” Johnny agreed glumly and rubbed his face with his palm. “Didn’t think so.”
The reasoning behind my next statement was based on basic human instinct rather than thought, encouraged by the desperate need I had inside of my chest to stop this boy from hurting.
“I was bullied,” I blurted out, startling us both with the admission.
I wanted to put him at ease, and the only way I could think of making that happen was to give him a deeply private confession of my own.
“Badly,” I clarified, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Johnny’s eyes locked on mine. “At your old school?”
“Yes.” I nodded, and then shook my head. “Not just at BCS. It happened everywhere.”
“Everywhere?” Johnny repeated slowly, brows furrowed deeply.
“Everywhere,” I confirmed, biting down on my lip to stop it from wobbling.
“For how long?” he finally asked, shifting his body back to face me.
“My whole life,” I offered wearily, forcing myself to keep eye contact. “I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t hated by everyone.”
“What?” he balked, sounding horrified. “No! Shannon, you shouldn’t be thinking like that–”
“It’s the truth, Johnny,” I was quick to clarify. “I’m unlikable. It’s a fact. Plain and simple.”
“That’s bullshit,” he growled. “You’re not unlikable.”
“It’s not bullshit,” I countered. “I am unlikable.”
