Punching 13 - Johnny Kavannagh [BOT]

Chapter five: the goddes in my lounge

I was on my way to take a shower when the doorbell sounded. It was the girl responsible for my swollen nose. The first thought that crossed my mind was that she was there to cut my banjaxed dick off because I gave the blue-eyed girl a fucking serious problem after all. I would accept she beating the hell out of me, but, even if it isn't in his best moment, I love my cock.
 
The temptation of running inside my bedroom and locking the door was high, but my self-respect was higher. So I asked her about Shannon, the girl whose head was hit by my ball—the rugby one. She seemed quite reasonable, but right away, she went mad. Like really mad. Like mom when I said I would be on the pitch again. Thanks to the big man, I survived—to the dark-haired girl in my lounge and to my mother. Because of the manners my folks taught me and an increasing necessity to look at those almond green eyes, I offered myself to drive her home in the moment I realised she didn't have a ride. Ma should be proud.

Well, after she lets me explain why she had a reason to give me a punch. When Mr. Towney called her, she almost interrupted Da's meeting to steal the car's keys and drive directly to Ballylaggin, a lot up the speed limit.  

When finally I got out of my room, not smelling like a bleedin' dead animal and with enough clothes, she was still in the same exact place I let her. She remained standing behind my coach. She seemed confident, though. Either way, the girl was a deadly goddess. She was intimidating and beautiful with her 'I will kill you' gaze and her stunning sage green eyes. As I felt my disloyal cock cheering up, I started to realise the girl was dangerous—for my face and bullocks. My cock hadn't been excited since that bloody, horrific day. 

Her gaze met mine. I know it's impossible, but I thought that she could read my mind. And she was challenging me to do something. Only if my fucking penis wasn't broken... Anyway, I went down the stairs feeling like I was being tested. And I hate being tested. Like, why do those people—the ones who look at me in order to catch me doing something wrong—believe they are sufficiently better than me to ask themselves if I am worthy? Although being tested by her didn't piss me off as much as it should.  

"You looked better without a T-shirt." To hell with my bleedingcock! She threw me something in my head. She has a serious problem with my fucking face. Jammy me, I caught it before any damage could be done. It was my T-shirt—the one I gave Shannon like the river to cover her bare legs—but in that girl's hands, even a teddy bear could be a deadly weapon. My afflicted nose is enough proof.  

"We have cleaned it." She said like she was mad because of it. Like someone had forced her to do it. In my opinion, it was a fair punishment for punching me. Although I wasn't as mad at her as I would be if she were someone else. Sure, it was related to Shan being bullied for years. Jaysus! I don't know what I would do if I saw those bastards, and she's neither my friend nor my sister.

"I left an envelope with money in Shannon's locker." I offered, a little bit afraid of her reaction. She had just yelled at me because I said I would take care of her sister. I didn't know what she would do to me for offering money, although it was the correct thing to do—and what I promised Shannon I would do.