Page 323 of Keeping 13

Chuckling, Gibsie turned his attention back to Feely who was playing on his guitar and belting out a verse of Tim O’Riordan’s “The Langer Song.” All of our friends were singing along with him, laughing their arses off in the process, but I couldn’t focus on the funny lyrics or the sound of Feely’s beautiful voice because my mind was stuck on my family.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny whispered in my ear, and the smell of alcohol on his breath hit me like a wrecking ball. He was slurring a little from the empty slab of Heineken beside him, and even though he was his usually gentle self, my father’s face just wouldn’t leave my mind.

“What’s wrong with ya, girl?”

“What’s fucking wrong with you now?”

“Go to sleep now, Shannon. Just close your eyes and it’ll all be better in the morning…”

“Shan?” Johnny asked again, dragging me back from the edge of my depressing thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your body went all funny,” he slurred, thankfully keeping his voice low enough so that only I could hear him. “You got stiff and then you went all jumpy-jumpy, and then you laughed, but it wasn’tyourlaugh…it was like a ‘ha-ha-ha, I’m laughing, but I’m not really laughing’ kind of laugh.”

Whoa…

“Are you okay?” he pressed, nuzzling my cheek with his nose. “Are you tired? Do you want to go to bed or something? In my dick tent?”

“Yourwhat?”

“My pitched tent,” he slurred.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Uh-oh,” he mumbled. “That’s a bad word… Am I in trouble?”

“No, it’s just the smell of alcohol,” I admitted, turning my face so that I could look at him. His eyes were glassy and his cheeks were flushed. He lookedhappy. He looked like everything my fatherwasn’t,but that smell was stillthere. Still onhim. “It was on your breath and you just—”

“Reminded you of him?”

I blew out a shaky breath and nodded guiltily. “Sorry.”

“I’m not drunk, Shan,” Johnny slurred and then scrunched his nose up. “Okay, I might be slightly drunk,” he amended, clearlyverydrunk. “But it’s only ’cause it’s my eighteenth.”

“I know.” I hurried to soothe him, feeling terrible. “And I want you to enjoy yourself, Johnny—”

“I know I’m talking a bit funny. I can hear my own voice and that’s never a good thing… Hang on, what was I saying?” He shook his head and focused on my face once more. “Oh yeah… That won’t happen to us.” He reached up and cupped my cheek. “I will never hurt you, baby,” he whispered, brushing his nose against mine. “Never ever ever, not in a trillion zillion years.”

“I know,” I breathed, heart racing.

“You’re my little darling,” he slurred. “My whole heart’s inside of ya.”

My heart hammered in my chest. “Johnny…”

“You’ll never be her,” he continued to ramble. “And I’ll never be him.”

“You promise?”

He nodded. “I promise a million billion promises.”

Shivering, I slowly relaxed against him. “I love you, Johnny Kavanagh.”

“And you know that I love you back, my little blue river,” he slurred. “Now, I know I’m fairly langers, but I could be a thousand percent langers and you’d still be safe with me.” Smiling loosely, he added, “And you’d still be the best thing these eyes have ever seen.” He pointed at his own eyeballs. “Yep, these oneslovelooking at you. Fuck, now I’m hard again.”

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