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Strolling down to the students’ car park, I unlocked my car and dropped my shit into the back seat before collapsing inside.
Exhausted and sore, I pushed back the seat and adjusted the recliner so I could stretch my legs out. The thought of driving with the pain currently burning its way up my thighs was an unwelcome thought, but it wasn’t my main concern right now.
We had a lot of boarders at Tommen, students coming from all over the country and some parts of Europe to study.
I lived half an hour from the school so I was one of the day-walkers.
Most of my friends were.
I knew Shannon was from Ballylaggin too, but I’d never laid eyes on her before that day. It wasn’t a massive area, but it was big enough that our paths had never crossed—or maybe they had and I just didn’t remember her.
I wasn’t great with faces. I didn’t look at one long enough to commit it to memory. I didn’t care to. I had enough names and faces I needed to remember as it stood. Adding unnecessary names of strangers to that list seemed a pointless feat.
Until now.
Troubled. That’s what Dee called her.
But weren’t all teenagers a little fucked up and troubled sometimes?
I was so consumed in my own thoughts that I didn’t notice the final bell ringing forty-five minutes later, or the flood of students climbing into cars around me. It was only when the passenger door of my car flew open that I jerked back to the present.
“Hey,” Gibsie acknowledged, dropping into the passenger seat beside me. “I see your heart’s still set on sporting the semi-homeless look in here,” he added, kicking a pile of shit away from his feet. Reaching around, he tossed his bag into the back seat. “It fucking stinks in here, man.”
“You could always get plenty of fresh air walking,” I grumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Yeah, I was that fucking tired.
“Relax,” Gibsie shot back and then snickered when he added, “No need to get so testy.”
“Very funny, asshole,” I deadpanned, my hand immediately moving to my dick. “Now you really can get out and walk.”
“Here.” He paused to dump a vanilla-colored folder on my lap. “You can’t make me walk after getting you this.”
I stared down at the folder. “What’s this?”
“A present,” Gibsie replied, adjusting the visor.
“Homework?” I deadpanned. “Wow. Thanks so much.”
“It’s yer one Shannon’s file,” he corrected, rolling down the sleeves of his jumper. “No doubt your obsessive ass was looking for it.”
Well, shite.
An unsettling surge of excitement coursed through me as I stared down at the folder in my hands.
My best friend knew me too well.
“When you didn’t come back to class after training, I figured you were out here sulking over her—or pining.” He shrugged before adding, “Or whatever the fuck you’d call what you did in the locker room earlier.”
“I don’t sulk.”
He snorted.
“I don’t fucking sulk, asshole,” I bit back. “Or pine. I wasn’t doing any of that shite. I was just—”
“Losing your head?” Gibsie filled in with a wolfish grin. “Don’t worry about it. Happens to the best of us.”
“Why would I be losing my head?” I demanded and then swiftly answered, “I wasn’t losing my goddamn anything!”
“My mistake.” Gibsie held his hands up, but his tone assured me that he was far from sorry. “I must’ve read it wrong. Give me her file and I’ll put it back.”
