Page 112 of Keeping 13

“Ah, now I get it,” she mused. “You feel sorry for her.”

That got my attention and I snapped my head around to glare at her. “Excuse me?”

“Shannon,” Bella replied with a smirk. “She’s all fucked up, with a broken home and a bad daddy, and you’re a sucker for a sob story.” She added, “Just look at Gib—”

“Don’t even go there,” I warned, hands balling into fists.

“You feel bad about it so you’re keeping this charade up,” she continued. “I knew there had to be something more to this. It madenosense for you to look sideways at the likes of her—”

“Someone swap seats with me!” I roared, causing the nurse who was addressing the class to jump and everyone else to turn and look at me. “Am I a piece of art?” I snapped, standing up stiffly. “Stop fucking looking at me and start moving seats. Now!”

“Kavanagh!” Coach said, looking confused. “What’s wrong?”

“Either move her away from me, or find me another seat,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “Because I’m going to lose my shit.”

Coach obviously took me seriously because he didn’t hesitate when he said, “Bella, swap seats with Gibsie.”

“Woo-hoo,” Gibsie hooted from the back of the room.

“Why do I have to move?” Bella growled. “He’s the one with the problem.”

“Because I told you to,” Coach shot back tersely. “Now move!”

“Preferential treatment because he’s your star boy,” Bella sneered as she shoved her chair back and stood. “Enjoy your pity relationship,” she hissed in my ear as she roughly shoved her chair into my leg. “Cripple.”

“Move along,” Coach warned. “Now, Bella.”

Biting back a growl as a wave of pain shot up my leg, I remained stoically silent as she stepped around me, not trusting myself not to explode on her.

“You heard the man,” Gibsie sneered, leaning against the desk. “Move along, Devil Pussy.”

“Fuck off, Gibsie,” she snarled as she stalked to the back of the class.

“You alright, lad?” Slapping a hand on my shoulder, Gibsie slipped around me and sank down on the inside seat. “Did she hurt you?”

“Nah, I’m grand.” Sinking back down, I stretched my legs out and breathed easily for the first time since walking into class. “She’s just batshit.”

“That she is,” he mused. “Now listen, I have a plan—” Settling his elbows on the desk, he clasped his hands together and looked attentively to the front of the classroom. “When they come around with the freebies, I’ll hold the bag open and you just pour the whole tub in, okay?”

“You’re an eejit,” I said, chuckling.

“I’m serious,” he shot back, keeping his eyes trained on the large container of condoms on the desk.

I studied his face. “Jesus, youareserious.”

“They’re mine,” he replied, grinning devilishly. “And I’m taking them all.”

* * *

“You have no bleeding tact,” I growled, eyeing my best friend from across the lunch table. The sexual health talk that Gibsie unintentionally orchestrated rolled into the three classes—and small break—due to the fact that some big, blond eejit wouldn’t stop asking questions. I had French and history straight after, and I swear my blood sugar levels had dipped from the lack of food. “You say I’m the tactless one, but you?” Dropping my gaze to the plastic container in front of me, I stabbed the chicken breast with my fork and tore into it. “You are in a league of your own, lad.”

His brows shot up. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” I shot back, nodding to his overflowing bag ofsuppliesthat he had emptied onto the table the minute we sat down for lunch. I swallowed every morsel of meat and veg in my lunchbox before continuing. “What are you planning to do with all of those? Make water balloons? Because you’re not going to use them all. It’s physiologicallyimpossible.”

“Physiological?” he scoffed. “You need to get your head out of those books, lad,” or at least that’s what I thought he said. It was kind of hard to work out what he was saying with half a dozen lollipops hanging out of his mouth.

“How many are you planning on wearing at once?” I countered, unscrewing the cap on my water bottle. “Half a dozen? Because there’s no other reason to fill your bag to the fucking brim, Gibs.” Shaking my head, I pressed the bottle to my lips and drained the contents in four long gulps. “They’ll be out of date in a year and then what?”

---