falling for 13 || Johnny Kavanagh

Push Through

J O H N N Y

The roar of the crowd echoed in my ears, the cold November wind biting at my face as I stood on the field, eyes fixed on the ball. Tommen's rugby pitch was packed with students, teachers, and parents, all bundled up against the sharp chill. It didn't matter that it was freezing—the atmosphere was electric. It always was when we had a home game, especially one as important as this.

We were up against Coláiste Enda, one of our biggest rivals, and the pressure was on. This was the match that would determine whether we made it to the finals of the schools' rugby league. The entire school was out here to watch, and I could feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on me.

I cracked my neck and pulled my mouthguard out, wiping it against my jersey. I glanced up toward the stands, my eyes scanning the sea of faces, looking for the usual suspects: Gibsie, Feely, the lads... and, of course, her.

Grace.

I spotted her immediately, standing in the crowd, huddled up in her coat. She was with her friends, her dark hair tucked into a beanie, her arms crossed against the cold. And next to her, just as I expected, was Cian Starky.

That familiar knot tightened in my chest as I watched them. Cian had his arm slung over her shoulders, keeping her close, his easy smile plastered on his face. She laughed at something he said, her head tipping back, and for a second, I could almost hear it—the sound of her laugh, even over the noise of the crowd.

That should've been me next to her.

Not him.

"Kavanagh!" Coach bellowed from the sidelines, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Focus up!"

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. I couldn't afford to get distracted right now. Not with this match, not with everything on the line. But still, my eyes drifted back to Grace, despite my best efforts. She hadn't seen me yet—or if she had, she wasn't looking. Not that it mattered. It wasn't like we were talking these days anyway. Not after last year. Not when I'd kissed her. Not after I'd managed to fuck everything up.

I shoved my mouthguard back in and focused on the game as the whistle blew, the ball kicked off into the air. The first few minutes were all adrenaline—scrums, tackles, fast breaks. The cold air burned in my lungs as I ran, dodging tackles, the weight of Coláiste Enda's forwards pressing against us like a wall. But we were holding our own.

Feely shouted something from behind me, and I swung the ball wide, sending it down the line. Gibsie caught it clean and bolted forward, his pace cutting through their defense like a knife. The crowd erupted as he gained ground, and I could hear the distant chants of my name mixed in with the roar.

"Kavanagh! Kavanagh!"

But it wasn't the chants that had my attention. It was her I couldn't help it. My eyes kept flicking back to Grace, like I was blind, and she was the only colour that I could see. Even in the middle of the game, even with everything else going on, she was there in the back of my mind. It wasn't like I hadn't tried to stop thinking about her—I had. But no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, it was like she was burned into my thoughts.

And seeing her with Cian? That was like a punch to the gut, It always was. And I'd seen how she looked at him so many times that I had gotten used to the feeling. But still, every time I saw them together, something twisted inside me. It wasn't just that she was with someone else. It was him. Starky. The lad was everywhere, always hanging around her, always looking like the perfect boyfriend. It was like he'd been sent to rub it in my face that I'd missed my chance, that I'd screwed everything up so badly that she'd moved on to someone like him.