SEEKING 7 | boys of tommen

s t o p

Katie and I had retreated to a quiet corner in the hall, letting the chaos of the party drift around us as we both tried to shake off the ache in our feet. Hughie had made his choice—Lizzie over Katie—and Katie was doing her best to brush it off, but I could see the hurt lurking just beneath her carefree smile.

"You know," she began, trying to lighten the mood, "your lips look ridiculously perfect. I'll need to steal that lip gloss at some point."

I laughed, half-hearted but grateful for her attempt at levity. "Strawberry. Gibsie's obsessed with it." I rolled my eyes. "I had to reapply it, like, a hundred times because he couldn't keep his lips to himself."

Katie gave me a sly grin. "He's a lucky lad." She leaned in, linking her arm through mine as we stood up. "Come on, let's find him."

Arm in arm, we left the noise of the party behind and wandered into the sixth-year common room. As we crossed the threshold, laughter froze in my throat. Lizzie stood just a few feet ahead of us, her face twisted with fury as she closed in on Gibsie. She didn't hesitate—her hand shot out, delivering a sharp slap that echoed across the room.

"Woah!" I breathed, instinctively moving to pull Gibsie back as Hughie caught hold of Lizzie, pulling her back before she could swing again.

"You're sick!" she screamed at him, her voice shaking with fury. "How could you? Even for you, Gibsie, this is low!"

Gibsie blinked in shock, looking from her to me, clearly lost. "I don't even know what you're talking about!" he shot back, his voice cracking.

Lizzie held up a crumpled note and waved it in his face. "This!" Her voice dripped with contempt. "I found it on the floor—this twisted joke, pretending you're a victim. That's a sick thing to lie about."

Gibsie's face went ashen. "I never wrote that! I don't even know what it says!" But his voice was beginning to waver.

Patrick and the rest of the gang entered then, laughing and oblivious to the scene before them.

"What's going on?" Patrick asked, glancing around at everyone's tense expressions.

"Lizzie, stop it." I stepped forward, my voice fierce. "You're wrong, and you have no idea what you're talking about. If you don't stop, I swear—"

Lizzie sneered, holding the letter closer to my face. "Oh, I have every idea, Aurora. Your so-called 'boyfriend' is a liar!"

I snatched the note from her and began reading, feeling my stomach twist with every line. It was a confession, an account of terrible things that had happened to Gibsie as a child, things he had never told me. Things he shouldn't have to relive.

For all who read this letter, let it be known that I, Caoimhe Young, on the night of April 5th, 2000, witnessed my boyfriend, Mark Allen, raping his eleven-year-old stepbrother, Gerard Gibson, while I was supposed to be babysitting him. Let it also be known that eighteen months before witnessing this, Gerard Gibson disclosed to me that he didn't feel safe around Mark and that he touched him inappropriately.

And finally, to my deepest regret, let it be known that I, Caoimhe Young, believed my boyfriend's word over that of an innocent child. For my part in your pain, for my silence, I can never say sorry enough. I can only hope that my absence gives you some comfort because while I know I wasn't your abuser, my lack of willingness to believe your truth hurt you in ways he never could. Goodbye, sweet boy. Caoimhe x

The whole room fell silent.

"Shit," Joey muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he began piecing together the truth. "Gibs..."

Gibsie stood frozen, shock and pain flickering across his face. I didn't even know what to do; everything around me felt surreal and terrifying. Then, something in me snapped. One moment I was staring at Lizzie; the next, I was on top of her, fists flying, anger overriding every logical thought in my head.

"You sick—how dare you!" I screamed, feeling strong arms pull me back, and I barely registered that it was Joey and Johnny holding me back, while Hughie restrained Lizzie.

"Girls, just... breathe," Hughie tried, but his voice barely registered.

Finally, I broke free, lunging again. "You absolute bitch!" I yelled, straining against the boys' hold.

"Calm down," Johnny whispered in my ear, his tone trying for steady but wavering. I knew he was as shaken as I was, but his hands held firm.

I finally pulled away from their hold and turned to find Gibsie, his face ghostly pale, his eyes locked on me, hurt and vulnerability etched deeply across his features. "Gibsie..." I whispered, my own voice choked.

Everything blocked out around me as I looked at him, willing him to see me, to hear me. "It's okay, Gibsie. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"No!" Johnny interrupted, his tone almost desperate. "It's not him. This isn't about him."

The tension snapped as Gibsie turned and stormed out, moving faster than I'd ever seen. My heart dropped; I bolted after him, racing through the hallways, ignoring the consequences as I shouted his name.

"Gibsie, wait!" I finally caught up in the courtyard, adrenaline fueling me as I grabbed hold of his shirt sleeve. "Don't leave like this," I begged, choking on tears.

Gibsie took a shuddering breath, his eyes glassy and distant as he finally stopped, but wouldn't meet my gaze. "Aurora, stop. Please."

"Please let me help you," I whispered, my hands trembling as I reached for him.

"Aurora, I can't do this right now. I don't want your help. I don't want anyone's help!" His voice broke, the pain and anger colliding, and he wrenched away from me.

"You were raped." I looked into his eyes, hoping to reach him. "It's not your fault."

"Don't look at me like that," he bit out, swiping furiously at the tears streaking his face. "I'm fine, Aurora. I'm always fine."

"You don't have to be fine," I sobbed, stepping closer.

"Stop it!" he shouted, staggering back. "I can't... I can't do this with you. Just leave me alone."

He turned and took off again, leaving me standing alone, heartbroken, until the others caught up to me. Shannon wrapped her arms around me, trying to console me while Johnny picked up the letter, reading it with shaking hands. His reaction was visceral—he dropped to the ground, clutching his head, unable to hide his own grief and shock.

"Oh, Gibsie..." I murmured, the weight of everything crashing down around me.