Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

THINGS GO WONDERFULLY RIGHT (OR HORRIBLY WRONG)

JOHNNY

In my defense, I had to admit that I had landed myself in this situation entirely on my own. All alone, with no help or intervention from anyone else.

"So," Aoife drawled from the backseat, her voice laced with curiosity, "can anyone explain what's going on here?"

"This is kidnapping, Johnny," Tara snapped, completely ignoring her friend's question. "Hostage kidnapping."

"You broke my nose and nearly choked me to death. That's attempted murder and domestic violence," I shot back, my voice tinged with irritation. "But you don't see me plastering a bleeding label on it, do you?"

"Oh, please don't make me laugh. We'd have to be in a relationship for it to be considered domestic violence. And let's be clear, I'm not joking about domestic violence because I've seen it and I know what it is. But apparently, Mr. Attempted Murder here doesn't."

"We are in a relationship," I fired back, my hand gripping the steering wheel tighter as I slammed on the brakes at a red light, causing the car to lurch forward abruptly.

"You're dating?" Aoife's voice rose in surprise from the backseat. Her head popped out from between the seats, her eyes wide with excitement. "Since when? Bitch," she said, turning to Tara and giving her a playful slap on the shoulder, "why didn't you tell us?"

"We are not in a relationship," Tara said, shoving Aoife's head back with a frustrated motion. "He's fucking delusional." Her eyes flashed dangerously as she turned back to me. "I'm going to file a fucking complaint about this."

"Good luck with that, baby, my dad's a barrister. Deny it all you want, but you and I are in a relationship."

"We are not."

"You kissed me," I shot her a sideways glance before returning my focus to the road. The windshield wipers swished rhythmically, clearing away the incessant rain that pattered against the glass. "That looks like being in a relationship to me."

"You guys kissed?" Casey's voice was a mix of astonishment and excitement, and I could see her practically bouncing in her seat next to Aoife, her eyes wide with intrigue.

Tara turned her head sharply to address her friends. "He kissed me," she stated firmly, placing a heavy emphasis on the "he," as if to underscore her point.

"You kissed me back."

"Just because we kissed doesn't mean we're in a relationship, Johnny."

"Don't fucking call me that!" I growled, my patience wearing thin. "I don't like you calling me that, and you know it. Stop it."

"I thought that was your name," Casey interjected, her confusion clear in her voice. "Isn't your name Johnny?"

"Yes, that's his name, Case," Tara confirmed with a touch of sarcasm. "But Mr. Delusional here has this stupid theory that I call him Johnny when I'm mad at him."

"It's not a stupid theory. You've been mad at me for three days now. You're not answering my texts or calls. You're not showing up at the Academy."

"Stalker much, Johnny?"

"You're doing it again!"

"So," Aoife said, rubbing the bridge of her nose in exasperation, "you two kissed? When?"

Before Tara could respond, I jumped in, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. "A week ago," I said, my tone matter-of-fact. "In the locker room at the Academy. And your friend here didn't exactly protest."