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“Fine,” I snapped, glaring down at her. “Willy.”
“Ahhh!” Releasing a high-pitched scream, Claire climbed to her feet and stamped her foot. “It’s pointless.” Pressing a hand to her forehead, she stalked over to her bed and face-planted on the mattress in dramatic fashion. “I failed.”
“No, no you didn’t,” I grumbled, as I penguin-walked my ass over to the bed to comfort her. “It’s my dick’s fault.”
“Willy.”
“Willy,” I corrected, sinking down on the bed next to her. The loud tearing sound followed by a sudden gust of cold air that hit my bollocks assured me that sitting down in cheap PVC leather was a terrible decision. “Ah crap. I think we have a code blue balls, Claire-Bear.”
“Just forget it,” Claire wailed into her duvet. “Take them off and burn them. We don’t need to dress up this year.”
“You know, I could just wear regular black pants,” I offered. “Like he does in the movie.” Rolling onto my side, I traced the curve of her spine with my finger. “Come on. Don’t be sad.”
“Yeah, but I’ve been working so hard on these costumes.”
“I know,” I coaxed, settling her hair over one shoulder, revealing one perfectly shaped ear with three tiny stud piercings on the lobe. “Come on, Claire-Bear. Look at me.”
“I just wanted it to be perfect.” Sniffling, Claire peeked up from her facedown position. “That’s all.”
“I’ll figure it out,” I heard myself say, needing to make it better for her. “I’ll bring the pants over to Mammy K and she’ll work her magic on them.”
“Really?” Big brown eyes full of unshed tears greeted me. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course.” Using my thumb, I wiped a rogue tear from her cheek. “I’d do anything for you.”
“Thanks.” Snatching my hand up in both of hers, she closed her eyes and leaned into my touch. “Bestie.”
“Anytime.” I could feel my heart accelerate to a thousand beats a minute, because while I might be cradling her face in my hand, she was holding my life in hers. “Bestie.”
26
Gossips and Gobshites
CLAIRE
“Okay, so you’ll never guess what I just heard,” Lizzie declared when she found me in the sixth-year common room the following Monday morning. “It’s a good one. You’re going to love it.”
Now, I knew the sixth-year common room was strictly out of bounds for all of us fifth years, but they had the best facilities out of all six years at Tommen. When I was dropped off at school this morning at the crack ass of dawn due to Coach’s manic rugby training schedule, I had taken one look at the fifth-year common room and turned on my heels.
Both Gerard and Hugh, my usual spins to school, were currently running drills on the pitch, while I was taking full advantage of their fancy-pants digs.
The sixth years had the biggest common room, with the best plush leather couches, the best kitchenette, a bathroom with shower facilities, and they even had a flat-screen television in here.
Sure, most of my friends were day-walkers since Tommen College was predominantly a boarding school, which explained the extra home comforts littered throughout the grounds, but come on. This took extravagance to a whole new level. No wonder the enrollment fees cost an arm and a leg.
Glancing up from where I was smearing butter on a slice of toast, I arched a brow. “Is this your version of an apology for yesterday?” Purposefully keeping my tone void of emotion, I added, “Because you owe a few of those around the place, Liz.”
“Ugh. You know I hate that word. Besides, I’ve got something so much better than an apology.” Tossing her schoolbag on one of the couches, she made a beeline for the kitchen area. “Some juicy gossip.” Leaning against the counter that separated the kitchen area from the rest of the common room, she smirked. “About a certain curly-haired firecracker.”
“Me?” I squeaked. So much for my cool demeanor.
“You,” she confirmed with a smirking nod.
Tilting my head to one side, I studied her flushed cheeks and the rare smile that was plastered to her face. “Okay.” Setting down my butter knife, I jokingly fake-bowed down to her with my hands. “You win, Medusa.”
Grinning victoriously, Lizzie snatched up a piece of toast and strolled over to our favorite blue couch. “So, when I was coming out of the bathroom in the sixth-year wing, I dropped my phone by the lockers and overheard a conversation between two lads,” she explained, taking a bite of buttery toast as she folded her legs crossways beneath her and got comfortable. “You have an admirer, Baby Biggs.”
My eyes widened. “I have?”
