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“The fucking girl, Johnny,” Gibsie growled, throwing his hands up. “The one you knocked out. The one I took a molesting off Dee for so I could get her file. The one you spend your days swapping gooey eyes with at school.”
“Gooey eyes?” Pulling my jumper down over my stomach, I stepped into my shoes. “What the hell are gooey eyes?”
“Swooning eyes,” Gibsie snapped, exasperated now. “Smoldering gazes. Fuck-me looks. I-want-to-eat-your pussy signals.” He shook his head and reached for a can of deodorant out of his gear bag. “Whatever you want to call them.”
“You’re tapped, Gibs,” I announced, deciding on deflection. “Seriously, man, sometimes I really worry about what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my head, Kavs. You’re the one with the fucked-up eye twitch whenever that girl is about the place.” He tossed the deodorant toward me and I caught it midair. “Don’t think I haven’t copped what’s going on there.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, lad.” I reached under my shirt and sprayed my pits. “My eyes are in perfect working order.”
“Your dick’s in perfect working order, too,” he shot back. He pulled his school jumper over his head and continued. “When that girl’s around the place.”
I took my time answering him for two reasons.
The first being I didn’t want to react on gut instinct and make a show of myself.
The second being I had no goddamn clue what to say.
Remaining silent, I concentrated on tying my shoelaces instead.
“Not going to answer me?” Gibsie probed, grinning.
“There’s nothing to say,” I bit out, focusing way too hard on making the perfect tie knot. “I’m not talking about her.”
“Why not?” he pressed.
“Because I’m bleeding not, Gibs.”
“Because you like her,” Gibsie stated.
“Because she’s not up for debate,” I snapped.
“Because you really like her,” he corrected. “Because you want her.”
I shot him a dirty look and then returned to staring at my shoes.
“I wish you would just admit it, lad,” Gibsie mumbled.
“And I wish you would mind your own fucking business,” I offered sarcastically. “It’s getting old, lad. You don’t hear me giving you shite about your love life.”
The minute the words were out of my mouth, and I saw his eyes light up, I regretted them.
“Ah, so you are contemplating getting with her?” Gibsie demanded excitedly, eyes dancing with sheer delight. “I fucking knew it.”
“No,” I corrected. “I’m not.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because?” he pushed.
“Because I’m fucking not, okay?” I barked. “Now drop it.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Gibsie announced, tossing all his shit back into his gear bag. “You overthink everything, man. You talk about my head being messed up, but yours must be a fucking horrible place to be—what with all that overanalyzing you do.”
“Leave it out, Gibs.”
