SKYFALL, Johnny Kavanagh

Shits and giggles

Johnny's Point of View

After my call my call with Maeve's brother – or cousin, whatever – I sat back at the table with the others and ordered something to eat, which I didn't touch until about an hour later when a message popped up on Gibsie's phone to let us know that they had found her.
Thank you Jesus.

Worry was basically consuming me from the inside out, and Gibsie – who was still scared for his life – was no better. He spent the whole lunch whispering in my ear about how that Joey lad was going to find him and cut out his balls while he slept, and it was all going to be my fault.
To which I retorted that it was his bleedin' fault for ditching Maeve in the first place.

Still my main focus at the moment was the tremendous amount of pain I was in. My groin was still aching and walking hurt like a bitch, but I was persevering.
I can't wait to go home and ice my balls.

Ever since I agreed to do that operation in December to fix my torn adductor I had been out of shape, and I knew why. I had gotten back too early from injury, but I couldn't risk postponing it any longer.
My career is at stake here Goddamnit.
So I kept going, trained everyday until the pain got so bad I almost threw up and iced my balls on the regular, even though it seemed to nothing for the horrendous bruising and discoloration in the area around my balls.

"I can't believe this." Gibsie declared once he got in my car. Apparently, he left his car at Maeve's place and Joey told him he couldn't pick it up until tomorrow, so I was now stuck driving his arse around.

"You are taking me hostage, let me out of this car." He crossed his arms.

"I'm not taking you hostage." I rolled my eyes. "Today you're crashing at my house because I have no intention of picking you up, taking you to Maeve's house and going back home. This way I can directly go to Maeve's house with you."

"If I don't take Brian out for a walk today, he's going to shit all over my bed out of spite." Gibsie sighed, defeated.
Brian was his mother's cat and had a habit of shitting in his room whenever things didn't go his way.

"Like cat, like owner."

"My mother never took a shit in anyone's bed, Johnny." Gibsie shot back.

"Not her, you." I stated. "Remember, when you took a dump in that shower back in first year."
14-year-old Gibs was even worse than 17-year-old Gibs, at least now he used a toilet.
After that incident happened while we were away on a game for Tommen, Coach didn't let us do another away game for six months.

"Oh yeah." Gibsie laughed. "Still can't believe no one ever figured out that it was me."

"That's because Feely and I told coach you were out with us, taking a walk." I chuckled. "He suspected you immediately."

"Wait, why me? Hughie could have done it. He wasn't with you guys." He screamed in disbelief.

"Because unlike you, Hughie is civilised." I pointed out.

"You're so mean, it's not my fault the toilet was occupied." Gibsie pouted.

"It is your fault for thinking the shower was the next best option." I replied.

"Would you rather I had done in behind a tree? What if some animal came up and bit me in the ass?" he questioned.

"Then I wouldn't have had to sit through half an hour's worth of scolding about how important it is to be respectful of the places where we stay when we got back at Tommen." I responded.

"So, you would rather I go to the hospital than the bathroom?" Gibsie asked.

"No, Gibs. I would rather you use a toilet." I spoke.

"It was occupied." He screamed again.

"You couldn't have waited five minutes?" I wondered.

"Mother nature was calling, what was I supposed to do?" He bit back.

"Anything else would have been a better solution, I suspect." I laughed once again.

"No more talking about this." Gibsie stated. "I have nothing to be sorry about. If you had been in my situation, you would have probably done the same thing."

"Lad, no one would have done that no matter the situation." I was crying from laughter at this point. "It's ok, we've all gotten used to you now. Nothing surprises me anymore."
Years of enduring Gibsie's antics meant I was basically on board with the weirdest things humans could ever come up with.

Finally, after laughing my ass off to Gibsie's pout for a good fifteen minutes, we arrived home.

"Ah, the mansion." Gibsie sighed. He liked to refer to my house as that since the first time he ever saw it.
To be honest, it kind of irked me – a fact that Gibsie definitely picked up on since he made a point to call it that every time – because it underlined the obvious privilege I had growing up.

"Who needs nine spare rooms anyway?" He wondered out loud.

"I have guests sometimes." I defended.

"You never let anyone but me, Hughie and Feely sleep over, you liar." Gibsie got out of the car and grabbed my keys to open the house while I parked.
Once I too got inside I closed the door, grabbed an icepack and plopped down on the sofa next to Gibsie who was scrolling through the channels trying to choose what film to watch.

"Not The Notebook again." I protested. Ever since we watched that film together in the cinema a year ago, he had been obsessed. Now every time he came over, he insisted we watch that.

"It's a cinematic masterpiece, thank you very much." Gibsie shot back.

"We've seen it nine times already." I stretched my arms and yawned.

"And I'm about to make it ten." Gibsie decided. "You're already falling asleep, so just let watch me Rachel McAdams and go to bed."

"Alright." I said defeated. I grabbed my icepack and walked all the way to the stairs before Gibsie spoke again.

"Johnny, are you sure you're alright?" He asked, looking worried. "Are your balls hurting again?"
Gibs was the only to whom I told the truth about my injury.
He could keep his mouth shut.
I could trust him.
If I told my parents or the coaches from the Academy – the institute where they trained professional rugby players – they would lose their bleedin' mind and pull me from rugby until I completely recovered, and I couldn't afford to lose my chance.
Scouts were looking around to fill spots for the U20 campaign and they would drop me if they smelled any weaknesses.

"Just fine, just tired from the game." I told him. "I'm going to sleep, are you sure you can cook dinner by yourself without burning the whole house down?"

"I'll have you know that I'm my mother's proud son." He said referring to the fact that his mother was a baker. "I'll just heat up whatever you have in your freezer."

"Why am I not surprised." I grinned. "Goodnight, Gibs."

"Goodnight, Johnny."