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I had no clue as to what Gibsie was referring to; however it was clear that Johnny did, because he exhaled a loud breath, expelling the word shite with it.
“You’re welcome,” Gibsie replied, patting Johnny on the shoulder before making his way back to his seat.
“What was that about?” I asked when we were relatively alone again.
“Hmm?” Johnny replied, obviously distracted. He kept turning back to look at his friend.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
“What? Yeah, yeah, I’m grand.” He cast a quick glance at me and then turned back to mouth something else to Gibsie.
I couldn’t quite figure out what they were saying to each other. They seemed to be communicating through body language—although it was fairly easy to figure out what Johnny meant when he gave Gibsie the finger.
Shaking my head, I gave up on trying to crack the code of their unspoken conversation and turned my attention to Johnny’s iPod—something he had given me to listen to during one of our reflection breaks earlier. Slipping the headphones on my ears, I carefully scrolled through his playlists and almost had a heart attack when my eyes landed on the one named Songs for Shannon.
With my heart racing, I cast a quick peek up at Johnny, but he was still fully immersed in vulgar sign language with Gibsie. Exhaling a small puff of air from my lungs, I pressed into the playlist and quickly scrolled through the list of songs.
Coldplay—“Yellow”
Guns N’ Roses—“Sweet Child O’ Mine”
Goo Goo Dolls—“Iris”
The Fureys—“When You Were Sweet Sixteen”
Howie Day—“Collide”
The Offspring—“Want You Bad”
Busted—“Fall at Your Feet”
Aerosmith—“Crazy”
Counting Crows—“Colorblind”
David Gray—“This Year’s Love”
Bon Jovi—“In These Arms”
Westlife—“World of Our Own”
Eagle-Eye Cherry—“Save Tonight”
Metallica—“Tuesday’s Gone”
Snow Patrol—“Run”
The Verve—“Lucky Man”
HIM—“Wicked Game”
The La’s—“There She Goes”
These were love songs. These were all love songs.
Saved to a playlist with my name on it.
Why? Why would he do this?
