falling for 13 || Johnny Kavanagh

Whats Wrong With Me

G R A C E

It was one of those days where everything just felt off. Since coming back from Christmas break, things between Johnny and me had been weird, and that was six whole months ago. It wasn't like we were super close before, but we had a good rhythm—a sort of banter that made school bearable. Mrs O'Leary changed the French seating plan, which gave him no reason to talk to me, but I still thought we were friends. Lately, every time I see him, there's this sinking feeling in my stomach, a tension I couldn't shake. It all started when I heard some of the girls talking about how Johnny was sleeping with girls in the older years, I just never pegged him to be that kind of boy.

I didn't want to believe it at first. I knew Johnny had his reputation, but somehow, I thought maybe I was different. That we had something. But the more I heard the rumors, the more it bothered me. And then, there were the little things that kept happening, like what happened after Home Ec today.

I was packing up my things, waiting for the bell to ring, when the lads started crowding around me and the other girls, asking about the food we'd made in class— this week it was flapjacks. Gibsie, Feely, Hughie, and the rest were acting like they hadn't seen or eaten food in days, making exaggerated puppy eyes and begging for a taste.

"Come on, Grace," Gibsie said, pointing at the dish I'd made. "That smells unreal. Just give me a small bit, would ya?"

I rolled my eyes, but I smiled, breaking off a piece and handing it to him. "You're such a baby, Gibsie. Here."

He took it like I'd just handed him gold. "Absolute legend," he said, grinning wide. The rest of the lads swarmed in, all trying to get their hands on whatever scraps they could find.

Johnny was there too, standing back with his arms folded, watching the chaos. I noticed he wasn't joining in on the begging, which was odd for him. Usually, he'd be the first one to ask for a bite, but today he just stood there.

I called out, holding out a plate of what I'd made. "You want some?"

Johnny glanced at the plate for a second, then shook his head, his face neutral. "Nah, I'm good. Eating clean for the match this weekend."

I felt a weird sting in my chest, but I quickly shrugged it off, pulling the plate back. "Oh. Right. Yeah."

A few minutes later, I saw him by the lockers, laughing with Niamh Collins. She was leaning against the wall, holding a plastic container, and Johnny was eating something she'd made, smiling like nothing in the world was wrong.

I felt my stomach twist as I watched them. I didn't understand why it bothered me so much. It was just food. He didn't want to eat mine. Fine. No big deal. So why did it feel like something was breaking inside me?

***

A few days passed, and I tried to keep my distance from Johnny. It wasn't hard—he was always surrounded by people anyway. I focused on my training, on school, on anything that would keep me distracted. But of course, I couldn't avoid him forever.

It was after PE one afternoon, and I was heading to my locker when Johnny caught up to me in the hallway.

"Grace," he called out, his voice hesitant.

I turned around, forcing a smile. "What's up?"

He frowned, leaning against the wall. "Are we good? You've been kind of... off lately."

I looked away, fiddling with the strap of my bag. "Yeah, everything's fine."

"Gracie," he said, stepping closer. "Come on, talk to me. If something's up, just tell me."

I sighed, feeling that familiar tightness in my chest. I wasn't sure if I wanted to get into this right now, but the way he was looking at me—like he actually cared—made it hard to keep it all bottled up. "I thought you liked me," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Johnny blinked, clearly caught off guard. "I do like you."

I shook my head, my throat tightening. "No, Johnny, I thought you liked me."

His face changed then, his expression shifting from confusion to realization. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, like he wasn't sure what the right words were.

"You're always hanging around with Niamh and those girls," I continued, my voice shaking slightly. "I know you're friends with them, and I'm not asking you to stop, but... I don't know. I just thought you liked me, that's all."

"Grace," he said quietly, stepping even closer. "You weren't wrong. I do like you. I'm just..."

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling stupid for even bringing it up. "I get it, Johnny. You don't have to explain. It's fine. We're just friends."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but instead, he just nodded slowly. "Yeah, we're friends."

I gave him a tight smile. "Good."

"Great" he replied.

The hallway felt too quiet, too empty around us, but I turned and walked away before he could say anything else. I didn't want to hear it.

***

I spent the rest of the day trying to shake off the conversation, but it clung to me like a weight. No matter how much I tried to convince myself that I didn't care, that it didn't matter, I couldn't stop thinking about it. About him.

Johnny Kavanagh. The boy who made my heart race and my head spin all at once. But maybe I'd been wrong about him. Maybe I'd just been fooling myself this whole time.