Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

I WAS BORN TO LOVE YOU

JOHNNY

Tara was finally back at the Academy.

Which meant we could finally spend some proper time alone—without nosy parents hovering around, cockblocking dogs barging into rooms, siblings screeching their heads off, and mates ripping into me about what I did or didn't get up to with my girl. It was just us again, or at least it would be once we managed to steal a bit of time away from training and study.

There was just one problem: I was still stuck on these bleeding crutches. Couldn't run, couldn't play rugby, couldn't even join Tara on the track while she trained. It was a proper downer, especially watching her through the gym windows, her hair tied back in a sleek ponytail, sprinting effortlessly while I was left behind, doing nothing but bench presses—upper body only, per doctor's orders.

It felt like a joke, really. Watching her train while I was stuck doing the bare minimum, staring at the walls or watching other lads run. Delaney barely looked at me twice, like he'd already written me off for the season, while Mallon practically vibrated with excitement every time Tara showed up for training. The man was buzzing, and I could see him watching her through the window of his office like a proud dad, his eyes wide and full of emotion. I swear, sometimes it looked like he was about to cry with joy. Turns out my da had pulled a few strings to get her back on the track in record time, and that stung more than I'd ever admit. Why could he pull that off for her, but I was still stuck limping around on crutches, waiting to heal? Unfair. Deadly unfair, in fact.

To make matters worse, we'd barely had any proper time together. Between her being back in training and studying for the Leaving Cert, it felt like the universe was throwing every possible obstacle in the way. It was putting me in a foul mood. Worse than when I skipped meals on my nutrition plan—proper cranky. I'd even considered, for a brief moment, asking her to transfer to Tommen like Shannon had. Just so I could see her more often. But it was her sixth year, her final year, so that idea was shot down before it even crossed my lips.

Plan B it was: a date.

I'd found out—well, more like bribed Shannon—that Tara had a soft spot for stargazing and the beach. It was perfect. I'd planned a stargazing date for the weekend, figuring it was something she'd love. Plus, I'd read online there was going to be a New Moon, so the stars would be crystal clear. I didn't know much about astronomy, but Tara was a proper brainbox when it came to that sort of thing, so it seemed like a winning idea. I might even learn a thing or two.

Now, as for dinner, that was a whole other challenge. The idea of cooking had crossed my mind—impress her with a homemade meal—but the last time I asked Gibsie for help, he nearly set the kitchen on fire. Joey was no help either. He'd tell me to feck off before I even finished asking. Shannon? Busy with her own date plans. I was on my own.

I was no disaster in the kitchen, but I was used to the athlete's diet—plain chicken, rice, and broccoli. Nothing fancy, nothing that screamed, "This is the best date ever." Tara deserved something better. Something special. I wanted to impress her with something a little more... well, romantic.

That's when it hit me—my da. The same man who had stolen my girlfriend a few days a go. But I was willing to overlook that minor detail if he helped me out with this date.

"Da," I said, breaking the silence as we drove.

He glanced at me, eyebrows raised, before looking back at the road. "What's up, son?"

"I need your help."

"With what?"

I took a deep breath. "I want to ask Tara out on a proper date—well, I already have it planned—but I want to make dinner. The problem is... I'm a bit hopeless in the kitchen."