“No, Shan.” Tossing the iPod on top of the dashboard, Johnny gave me his full attention. “I actually feel great.” An indulgent smile tugged at his lips, causing the dimples in his cheeks to deepen. “Better than I have in months.”
“Really?” I beamed back at him. “So, I’m a good coach?”
Smirking, he raised my hand to his mouth and brushed his lips over my knuckles. “You’re one of a kind.” Giving my fingers a gentle squeeze, he placed our joined hands back on his lap.
Repressing a full-body shiver, I turned back to stare out the window, sighing in contentment, as I watched the waves rising, foaming, and crashing against the cliffs.
Today…
God, today had been thebestday.
When I woke up this morning, I was sure I would never smile again. Knowing that my father had a little over two weeks left in treatment before he was a free man had crippled something inside of me. It had doused the tiny flicker of hope I had been clinging to these past few weeks as I adjusted to life without him. The letter he had written me was still unopened and tucked into the side pocket of my schoolbag. I wasn’t sure if I would ever read it, but I knew that I didn’t want to right now. I was so furious with myself for letting my guard down, for allowing myself to contemplate the possibility of a life without him in it.
When I arrived at school this morning, I hadn’t planned on seeking Johnny out. It just sort ofhappened. Without my brain’s permission, my feet had led me straight to him. When he opened that car door, I didn’t need to ask any questions before climbing inside because I knew I would go anywhere with him. Whether he knew it or not, he had offered me a temporary lifeline and I had grabbed it with both hands.
And now we were here at the beach, having stolen his best friend’s car to skip school and escape our hometown. We spent the day doing absolutely nothing and that meant absolutelyeverythingto me.
“Are you going to be in trouble?” I asked. “When your parents find out you skipped?” Evening was trickling in now, bringing with it a darkening sky and the stinging bite of the cold night air. A prickling chill danced across my bare legs and I knew we would have to go soon. The thought was depressing, but I pushed it back, refusing to taint the best day of my life.
Johnny shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m always in trouble for something.”
My lips tipped up. “Me too.”
“We’re some pair, huh?” He chuckled.
“Yeah.” Unsure of how to word my next sentence, I thought long and hard before giving up entirely on being tactful and just coming right out with it. “What happens in June?” It was the question that had been driving me insane ever since Johnny told me about his career ambitions. It was the question that made me feel close to catatonic every time I thought of him leaving. “With the rugby,” I whispered, biting down on my bottom lip as I turned to look at him, chewing so hard that I could taste blood on my tongue. “What happens when you go away?”
Johnny was quiet for the longest time as his gaze flickered between my face and the steering wheel. Finally, he turned back to look at me. “That’s a long way off, Shan,” he admitted honestly, blue eyes locked on mine. “And I don’t even know if I’ll make the squad—”
“You’re going to make it,” I cut in quietly. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in my voice. “I’m sure of it.”
He stared hard at me for the longest moment before tearing his gaze away and focusing on the roof of the car. “I wish I was so sure.”
“Well, I’ll be sure enough for the both of us,” I replied, squeezing his hand. “It’s going to happen.”You’re going to leave.“You’re going to shine.”
He shook his head, brow furrowed. “I want it so fucking bad.” Exhaling a pained sigh, he ran a hand through his rain-soaked hair and growled. “Since as far back as I can remember that’s all I’ve wanted to do, you know?”
“It’s going to happen for you,” I said, trying to offer him a smidgen of the support he gave me daily.
“I fucked myself over fairly significantly,” he muttered. “I didn’t listen. I overtrained. I almost killed myself. If I make it”—he paused to look at me—“it’ll be a miracle.”
“No,” I corrected. “Whenyou make it, it’ll be years of hard work that paid off.”
“You think I can do it?”
I nodded. “I know you can.”
He blew out a frustrated breath. “I just…want tobesomeone, you know? It doesn’t take any effort to be ordinary,” he shared, his words coming fast and laced with the Dublin accent. “I don’t want to be ordinary, Shannon. I want to be extraordinary. I want toexcel. But all of it—the training and the fucking grafting—it meansnothingif I don’t make it back on the pitch soon.” He dropped his gaze to stare at our joined hands and muttered, “It will have all been for nothing.”
“What can I do?” I squeezed out, desperate to help him. “Can I help?”
Johnny smirked. “Oh, like coach me again?”
“If you want.” I shrugged helplessly. “I just want to help you.”
“You can stay with me,” he replied, tone low, blue eyes achingly vulnerable. “Even if I don’t get the call.”
My chest burned so hard for him that it was physically painful.