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“Tired,” I choked out, clutching at straws. “Jesus, I’m really tired.”

“Hmm.” Something caught her eye, something really fucking bad because her eyes narrowed and her face turned purple. Without a word, Mam walked over to the side of my bed, and I watched in horror as she bent down and retrieved the condom box.

Fuck.

My.

Life.

“Opened,” Mam growled as she stalked back to where I was slumped and tossed the box on my lap. “Now, where is the girl to go with thejohnnies, Johnny?”

I hung my head, knowing that I was thoroughly fucked. “Uh…”

“I’m here, Mrs. Kavanagh,” Shannon croaked out, peeking out from between my legs. “Sorry?”

“Shannon.” Mam blew out a ragged breath. “Come on out from under the bed, please.”

“I kind of can’t, Mrs. Kavanagh,” Shannon squeezed out.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m kind of naked,” she choked out, blushing.

“And Jesus wept,” Mam wailed, covering her face with her hands. “Both of you put your clothes on and meet me in the kitchen in two minutes,” she choked out before moving to the door, only to hesitate. “And give me those,” she snapped as she stalked back to where I was sitting and snatched the box of condoms out of my hands. Swatting the back of my head with the condom box, she hissed, “You little toe-rag!” before marching back out of the room, screaming, “John! Call the parish priest. That child of yours needs confession!”

56

I Made You a Promise

Shannon

I planned on dying a slow death. The cause of my untimely demise: mortification. Never in my life had I been so embarrassed as I was when I stepped through that kitchen doorway and came face-to-face with both of Johnny’s parents just minutes after losing my virginity in what had been the best and then worst moment of my life.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“About what?”

“About sex, Shannon, love.”

“Don’t do this to her,” Johnny pleaded from the stool next to mine. “Please, Ma, I’m begging you.” He turned to look at me. “Cover your ears, baby…”

Groaning loudly at the memory of Mrs. Kavanagh’s voice when she sat me down at the island for thetalk, I pulled my purple duvet over my head and mentally prepared to spend the rest of my life clung to this bed because I could never leave my house again.

Worse, Johnny’s mother had insisted on driving me homealone, which meant even more one-on-one time to discuss the birds and the bees and how I was not to let her soncorruptme in any shape or form. According to Mrs. Kavanagh, all teenage boys were hormone-driven dogs—her son included—and I was not to letJonathanlead me astray.

Too late for that, I thought to myself as I curled into the smallest ball I could and sighed. I felt really bad, because even though it had been my idea, Johnny was the one who had taken the brunt of his mother’s wrath, all while his father smirked into his newspaper, nodding and agreeing whenever prompted by his wife. In Mrs. Kavanagh’s eyes, Johnny was older and possessed the penis; therefore, he was the one who should have known better. I had no clue what to say or do when she started lecturing us both about how private parts were private and not for sharing with each other. It wassohumiliating, and hours later my face was still onfire.

Unlocking my limbs enough to stretch my arm out and grab my phone off the nightstand, I pulled it back under the sanctuary of my duvet and checked the time, only to groan when I saw that it was gone two o’clock in the morning.

Go to sleep, Shannon,I mentally coaxed.Just turn off your brain and stop overthinking.

Tap, tap, tap…

Stiffening, I held perfectly still and listened carefully.

Tap, tap, tap.

Springing up in my bed, I looked around my dark bedroom, illuminated by the streetlamp outside, and tried to source the root of the noise.

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