DRAMA NOVEL ONLINE Taming 7: Chapter 8
“I just miss him so much.” With her cheek resting on her boyfriend’s shoulder, Shannon clung to him like a baby monkey would to its mother. “I want him home, Johnny.” Her voice was slurring and her eyes were closed as she spoke, letting me know that she was a little beyond tipsy.
“I know, baby,” Johnny, who was equally drunk, soothed, as he rubbed soothing circles on her back. “Joey will be home on Monday.”
“I just … I love him so much,” she mumbled, clawing and pulling at him like he would disappear at any minute. “Oh God, but my heart loves you most of all.”
“Right back at you, Shannon like the River.”
“You’re really for keeps, aren’t you?”
“Just try to get rid of me.” Chuckling, he stood up from the sand in one swift move, taking my bestie with him. “I’ve got you, my little darling.”
“And I’ve got you, binding thirteen,” she cooed, attempting and failing to ruffle his hair. “So pretty.”
“We’re going to call it a night,” Johnny announced, as he carried his baby monkey back to their tent and disappeared inside. “Night, all.”
“Night,” the rest of us called back in unison.
“Jesus, they’re disgustingly loved up, aren’t they?” Feely mused, taking a swig of his beer.
“So bad,” Katie agreed with a chuckle. “It’s nice.”
“It’s epic,” I chimed in. “And so incredibly deserving.”
“And permanent,” Gerard added with a nod. “Mark my words, lads, come what may next summer after graduation, we’ll all be back in this town in a few years for their wedding.”
“You really think so?” Katie asked.
“No thinking necessary,” Gerard replied, tapping his temple. “It’s already a done deal. Knowing Johnny, he already has his grandmother’s heirloom engagement ring waiting in the wings for the perfect opportunity.”
“Really?” My eyes widened. “Johnny has an heirloom ring?”
“Oh yeah.” Gerard nodded eagerly. “The rock is the size of my fist.”
“Whoa.”
“I know, right?”
“I’m best man,” Hugh tossed out.
“Like hell you are,” Patrick shot back.
“Fuck you both,” Gerard interjected. “That’s my job.”
“You’re delusional.”
“And you’re shit craic,” Gerard countered, catching on to my brother’s bullshit bad mood, which had been present all night “You’re killing my buzz, lad. Cheer up.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah,” he snorted. “What’s that saying for the word fine, babe?”
“Fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional.”
“That’s the one,” Gerard replied, grinning. “You, my friend, are all of that and more.”
“We can’t all be poster boys for Prozac, Gibs.”
“He doesn’t take Prozac anymore,” I was quick to defend.
“Thank you,” Gerard replied. “My serotonin levels are back on track. Now, back to the wedding. You two are groomsmen at a push – although, chances are he’ll forget about you both when he goes pro.” Gerard winked. “I’m the best man.”
“If that’s the case, then what makes you think he won’t forget about you, too, smart ass?”
“Because I’m as unforgettable as I am irreplaceable,” Gerard replied with a grin. “Unlike you boring bastards.”
“Jesus, that’s lovely, that is.”
“Yeah, Gibs, thanks a bunch.”
“I speak only the truth,” Gerard continued, unfazed. “I nearly died of boredom while Cap was away on tour, with only the two of you for company.”
“Hey!” I huffed, poking his side. “What about me?”
“Male company,” he was quick to correct, leaning in to press a kiss to my cheek. “You’re perfect.”
“Yeah,” Katie agreed with a smile. “You two have been joined at the hip this summer.”
“This summer?” Hugh snorted. “Try every summer since nineteen eighty-nine.”
“Damn straight,” Gerard agreed, leaning in to press another kiss to my cheek. “My little Leo.”
“No lips on my sister,” Hugh grumbled, but it was a defeated sound, having clearly consumed too much alcohol to care anymore. “Dammit, Gibs.”
“Thank God for this one,” Gerard continued, wrapping an arm around me. “I thank my lucky stars every day for her friendship.”
“Hey!”
“I’m not even sorry,” Gerard laughed. “One of you is a mute and the other is a permanent fucking raincloud.”
“I’m not a mute,” Hugh argued.
“No, you’re the raincloud,” Gerard replied, pointing a finger at Patrick. “He’s the mute.”
“Maybe if you shut your mouth every once in a while, I would have a chance to speak,” Patrick drawled, stretching his legs out.
“Speak now,” I urged. “Because I’m getting sick of listening to the voice in my head.”
“Voice or voices?”
“My inner voice, asshole.”
“Just checking.”
“You guys are so mean to each other,” Katie declared with a yawn. “It’s terrible.”
“Nah, this is just our love language,” Hugh replied, draping a blanket over her shoulders. “I’d take a bullet for any one of these assholes.”
“Right back at you, brother,” Gerard replied, offering Hugh the middle finger. “In a heartbeat.”
“Speak for yourselves,” Patrick interjected, following on from Katie’s yawn with a huge one of his own. “I wouldn’t piss on either one of you if you were on fire.”
“Nice,” both Gerard and Hugh chuckled in unison.
“Boys are weird,” Katie said. “Boy code is even weirder.”
“Totally,” I agreed. “Don’t even try to understand these weirdos, chickie. I’ve been around these boys for sixteen years and their friendship dynamics still confuse me.”
An audible moan came from a nearby tent, causing Gerard to clearly state the first thing that sprang to his mind, “So, I guess Cap’s getting his hole, huh?”
“Jesus, Gibs,” Patrick groaned. “I don’t want to think about it.”
“Yeah,” Hugh agreed with a shudder. “The girl is like a sister to us.”
“Ew, don’t even say it like that, Gerard,” I added. “Getting his hole.” I grimaced in disgust. “What a horrible reference to the physical act of love.”
“Wow,” Hugh deadpanned. “What a horrible reference to sex.”
“What?” I asked. “Physical act of love?”
“Ugh.” He shuddered. “That’s so wrong, Claire.”
“Why?” Katie laughed. “It’s what they’re doing, isn’t it?”
“To be honest, babe, I don’t want to think about what Cap is doing.”
“I prefer getting his hole,” Gerard declared.
“Me too,” both Hugh and Patrick agreed.
“Absolutely not,” Katie argued. “That’s so crude.”
“I have it,” Gerard announced, holding a hand up. “They are fucking with feelings!”
“Fucking with feelings.”
“Hm.”
“It’s best of a bad bunch.”
“It’s genius!”
“It sounds sort of serious,” Patrick mused. “To fuck with feelings?”
“I fuck myself with feelings all the time,” Gerard offered up. “It’s nice.”
“Gerard!” I squealed.
“As you should, lad,” Patrick laughed.
“Ew,” Katie groaned.
“Shoot me now,” Hugh muttered.
“Fucking with feelings,” Gerard continued. “It’s centrifugal motion.”
“It’s what?” Both Hugh and Patrick turned to gape at their friend. “Gibs, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Fucking with feelings,” he said again proudly. “It’s centrifugal motion.”
“Now, where in the name of Jesus did you hear that word?” Patrick asked.
“I know words,” Gerard huffed, tone defensive.
“Says the fella who tried to convince the whole of fourth class that tyrant was a breed of dinosaur.”
“Hey! That was an easy mistake, and you know it.” Gerard shrugged noncommittally. “Could have happened to anyone.”
“Funny how the things that could happen to anyone usually only happen to you, Gibs.”
“Centrifugal motion,” Hugh mused, scratching his jaw. “I think we covered that in science last year.” He turned to look at Gerard. “Since when did you take up physics, lad?”
“I clearly didn’t,” Gerard huffed. “But if it’s good enough for a Faith Hill song, then it’s good enough for me.”
Smiling to myself, I sat back and listened to their pointless rambling. Weird and dysfunctional as they were, I loved the three boys sitting around the campfire – and their captain who was nursing my drunk bestie. Every one of these stupid boys brought something to the table.
Patrick Feely, for example. He was quiet and closed off, but that’s because you didn’t know Patrick until you knew Patrick. He didn’t suffer fools. He didn’t bend or break or submit to peer pressure. He wasn’t trying to fit in with anyone. If that made him uncool to our peers, it meant little to nothing to him. He had his secrets and his troubles, like the rest of us, but they were unspoken. In fact, I had known him since early childhood and still felt very closed off from him at times.
Then you had my brother, Hugh. Taking personal sibling irks and pet peeves out of the equation, and you had another level-headed, decent boy. And no, I didn’t say that because he was related to me. He just was.
Moving on to Johnny, and you had a boy living in a man’s world, body, and mind. Maybe it was because of the life he’d led, or the fact that he’d mapped his future out before the rest of us, but he was most different. He wasn’t naturally calm or reserved like Patrick but had channeled his self-control like a finely worked muscle in his body.
Seriously, the boy had some epic will power and was able to bend his will to his favor. I’d never seen anything like it. The way he could exude power and then rein it back in with a tight iron fist.
The only person I’d ever see get under his skin was my best friend. Yeah, Shan had blown that self-control to hell on her very first day at school.
Which brought me to my person.
Gerard was bristling with a mischievous sort of energy that emanated from him in waves. It was as enticing as it was addictive. He was the type of boy you wanted to spend all your time with, regardless of the consequences because it was instant, delayed, and prolonged gratification combined.
He had darkness in his life and so much pain, but he kept the most beautiful sunny disposition about him. It was incredibly humbling to be around the boy. To know all that he had endured in his short life and that he still woke up with a smile on his face in the morning. It couldn’t be easy, not with fifty percent of his family buried in the graveyard beside Shannon’s parents. But he did it.
Sometimes, I wished he wasn’t the one my heart had attached its flag to because it felt so far away, so unattainable, but then, when we were together, everything fell into place, and all of my doubts evaporated. It was a dangerous thing, to love a boy the way I loved Gerard. But I couldn’t go back in time and pinpoint the moment it happened; therefore, I was resigned to loving him.
They say it’s hard to get over your first love. Well, if I knew it to be true, like my heart was so insistent, I would never be getting over Gerard Gibson.
We had so much fun when we were together, but when we were with our friends, he was Gibsie. And when he was with me, he was Gerard. I liked to think of them as two different people. Two very different boys. I loved them both with every fiber of my being. Sometimes I wished I didn’t feel the way I did, but you can’t change the heart’s direction, once it sets its sight on its destination. And my heart’s destination was hell-bent on melding with his. On entwining with his and never breaking free again.
I just wanted to be with him, follow him everywhere, and never let go of the feelings he evoked inside of me. In fact, if I could bottle them up and take a little sniff every time I felt sad, that would be perfect.
Truth be told, it almost felt like there was a part of me programed to love him. It had come to me so easily. As easy as breathing. There wasn’t a moment in time that I could safely point at where he didn’t live in my memory.
When we were little, everything was easier, less complicated, and, well, quite frankly, smoother. But with age came hormones and trauma that severed ties and fractured friendships. I suppose it was a testament to our friendship group that we’d managed to hold the line when such trials and tribulations attacked our core. God knows many others would have thrown in the towel had they suffered similar fates.
Complications came as easy as breathing to us now, and while issues were embedded deep within our circle, we somehow managed to hold on. To stick together. I thought that might have a lot to do with the fact that my brother and I were bringing two very different groups of people together. It wasn’t as blasé as saying “the boys and the girls”. That wasn’t it. It wasn’t gender based. It was a matter of souls connecting. From Katie and Hugh to Shannon and Johnny, to Lizzie and Patrick, to me and Gerard, there was an invisible string that connected all of us.
A little while later, when everyone was turning in for the night, I wasn’t even surprised when Gerard followed me into my tent. Even though he was meant to be sharing with Patrick, we both knew it would be my sleeping bag he would end up inside. Same as always.
“Don’t turn around,” I warned as I stripped off my bikini and pulled on an old jersey of his and a fresh pair of knickers.
“Tonight was good craic, wasn’t it?” Gerard mused, faithfully keeping his back to me as I changed. “To be honest, I thought it was going to go to shit when Pierce and the viper showed up,” he added, climbing into the sleeping bag. “But she kept her distance for once.”
“Gerard.” A heavy sigh escaped my lips. “You know I don’t like it when you call her that.”
Shrugging unapologetically, he yawned loudly before settling his arms behind his head. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” I laughed, climbing in beside him, while desperately trying to avert my eyes from his impressive biceps. Because Gerard had the best arms. They were delicious.
“No, I’m not,” he agreed with a chuckle.
“You’re so annoying.”
“You love it.”
“Just try to be nice to each other,” I instructed, rolling onto my side to face him. “For me.”
“I’m always trying,” he replied. “She’s always pushing.”
“I know.” With my portable camping light switched onto the brightest setting, I took the time to study every inch of him, securing this moment in time to memory because I didn’t want to ever forget this summer. Or this boy.
He was big and broad and strong, with the most beautiful sun-kissed skin. Seriously, it was as if the sun came down from the sky and illuminated this boy in the most wondrous hue of bronze. His already blond hair was bleached from the sun, making him look almost surfer dude-ish – like the boys I watched on Home and Away every evening on RTE2.
His brown nipples were pierced and adorned with itty bitty silver hoops, and he had a tattoo on his left ribcage with the word Resilience in italic font that was decorated with a feather in black, and then a tiny Care Bear on his right hipbone.
I never saw other boys, never looked at them the way I looked at Gerard. He was insistently and permanently inside of me and I couldn’t shake him if I tried. Not that I did much trying these days. He was comfortable and exciting and fresh all rolled into one perfect creation.
“I love you, Gerard.”
“I love you, too.” His lips were so close to mine that if I leaned in just an inch, we would be kissing. I wanted to. Desperately. But I held back. Knowing that my heart couldn’t take the kiss. Because the kiss might be a glorious one, but it would never be accompanied by the commitment I needed from him. The relationship I needed the security of. For whatever reason, Gerard offered me his heart on his sleeve, but kept the rest of him tucked behind an impenetrable wall of mystery.
“You look sad.” His voice was like an old musical box to my ears. So familiar and welcoming and soothing. He soothed me like a comfort blanket. After all, he’d been in my life long enough. I’d outgrown all my other comforters. Not Gerard, though. As my age grew, so did my desire for his company. For him, period.
“I’m not sad.”
“No?”
“No.” Unable to repress the full body shudder that racked through me when he turned on his side and draped his big arm over me, I sucked in a sharp breath and whispered, “I’m frustrated.”