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“Exactly that,” I shot back. “Because Ihaveschool.”

He arched a brow. “I’m still waiting for an actual reason, lad.”

“Because I could hardly tell my da to take me home so I can fuck myself,” I sneered sarcastically. “Get a handle of yourself.”

Gibsie stared blankly back at me. “I see no problem with that.”

“Don’t encourage him,” I snapped, glaring at Hughie and Feely who were snickering.

“You’re the one who needs to get ahandleof yourself,” Gibsie countered, still staring at me in disbelief. “With both hands.”

Give me strength…

Jaw clenching, I turned my attention back to my locker and yanked the metal door open, only to gag when I was hit by a god-awful smell. All four of us jerked away from the locker simultaneously.

“Jesus,” Hughie choked out.

“Uh, lad,” Feely groaned. “That’s bad.”

“You dirty bastard,” Gibsie choked out, his words muffled as he covered his mouth with his hand. “Jesus Christ, Johnny.” Glaring at my locker like it was his mortal enemy, he hissed, “Ever heard of a rubbish bin?”

“I forgot it was in there.” I laughed, retrieving the plastic container that was now growing fur. “Didn’t exactly have time to clear out my locker for the holidays.” Holding it as far away from my body as possible, I walked over to the waste bin and tossed it in before turning back to the lads. Grinning sheepishly, I asked, “What do you think it once was?”

“Chicken,” all three lads groaned in unison.

“Hey, Johnny.” The bane of my existence’s voice peppered through the air then, as irritating and unwelcome as always, and taking with it any semblance of humor. Now I was the one to shudder in pure, unadulterated repulsion as I watched Bella Wilkinson swagger toward me, all hips and tits and pain in my hole. “How are you feeling?”

“Keep walking,” I instructed coldly, hackles rising. Dick move or not, I made a beeline for the lads, finding sanctuary—and safety—in numbers. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Come on, Johnny, I just want to—”

“I’m not doing this with you again,” I grumbled, interrupting her. “We’ve had this talk a million fucking times. It’s done with—we’re done with—so justwalk away.”

“So, what, I can’t even talk to you?” she shot back, looking wounded. “I can’t ask how you’re feeling?”

“I’m fine,” I replied. “Thanks for asking. Now leave me alone.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Johnny…”

“You heard the man,” Gibsie ordered, good mood forgotten as he pointed a finger toward the hallway. “Just keep on walking.”

“Fuck you, Gibsie,” Bella growled before turning her gaze on me. Batting her lashes, she smiled up at me, expression hopeful. “I know things ended badly between us, but I was so worried about you.”

“I’m sure you were,” Hughie mused. “And I bet Cormac really eased the worrying for you.”

“Just stop.” Exhausted from months of back-and-forth with the girl, I scrubbed my face wearily and said, “I don’t want to fight with you. I’m done, okay? So, please just walkaway.”

Bella cast a scathing look toward Hughie before looking back to me. “I was just hoping that we could talk for five minutes—”

“And I was hoping to win the lotto at the weekend,” Gibsie interjected and then frowned. “But it didn’t work out that way because I forgot to buy a quick-pick.”

Feely snorted. “You’re under eighteen. Who’s going to serve you?”

Gibsie waggled his brows. “I have connections.”

Feely rolled his eyes. “Dee?”

Gibsie winked. “Maybe.”

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