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“I like you,” Johnny shot back without an ounce of hesitation.
Well, I love you, Johnny Kavanagh!
Even though you’re leaving. Even though you don’t feel the same. Even though loving you is going to break my heart.
I love you with everything I have. And I probably always will.
“Well, that makes you one of very few.” I exhaled a shaky breath. “I was hated growing up, Johnny! Seriously hated. Nobody wanted to play with me. Nobody wanted me on their team in P.E., or to sit with me in class, and I was never invited to the other children’s birthday parties. I was constantly picked on. For my hair. For my size. My clothes. My secondhand schoolbooks. The car my family owned. The terrace I came from. For breathing. It didn’t matter what I did or how hard I tried to get along with the other children, they always found a fault in me.” I shook my head and sighed wearily. “I’ve had two friends my entire life. That’s it.”
“Claire Biggs and Pierce O’Neill’s girlfriend?” Johnny asked, voice gravelly.
“Lizzie Young,” I confirmed with a nod. “Yeah, they went to my primary school, and honestly, if it wasn’t for them, I would have been completely alone.”
“But they moved on to Tommen after primary school?”
“They did.”
“And you went to BCS?”
“Yeah,” I croaked out.
Bewilderment was etched on Johnny’s face, like this was hard for him to comprehend. And for a guy like him, it probably was.
He wasn’t short of friends or adoring fangirls. He was popular and a big star. He didn’t have the faintest idea of what it felt like to be on the other side of the popularity spectrum.
Where I resided.
Johnny’s tone was careful when he asked, “It was the same for you there?”
“No.” Inhaling a steadying breath, I continued to open myself up for danger. “It was worse.”
Johnny was silent for a long moment before asking, “They hurt you there?”
Repressing a shudder, I forced a small nod.
“Shannon?”
“Every day,” I confessed.
“Christ,” he practically snarled as he ran a hand through his hair. “No wonder your ma lost it on me that day.”
I sighed heavily. “It wasn’t the first trip from school to the A&E.”
“Jesus.” He blew out a harsh breath and pulled me closer. “How bad did it get?”
I shrugged helplessly, unable to get the words out, or maybe I was just unwilling to verbalize the trauma.
I wanted it gone from my memory. I wanted that part of my life erased forever.
“Shannon?” Johnny pressed, tone achingly soft, as he tugged me so close that my knees touched his thigh. Keeping one arm hooked around my back, he leaned closer and repeated his earlier question. “How bad did it get?”
To the point that I wanted to die.
“Bad enough that my mam had to bury herself in debt to transfer me to Tommen,” I admitted, my voice barely audible. “And bad enough that I let her do it,” I added, forcing myself to look at him and hating the sympathetic expression I found him wearing.
“Those girls?” he asked then. “At the pub?”
I nodded. “Ciara was the worst.”
