Conor Kavanagh. The heartthrob of Tommen College. The biggest playboy in the school - cocky smirk, rugby jersey practically sewn onto him, always with a smart comment and that maddening wink. He's friendly, charming, flirty as hell. The kind of lad who'd carry your bag for you and somehow make it seem like your idea. But don't let that fool you - he's trouble. All sharp jawlines and swagger. And somehow, he's decided I'm his next bloody charity case. I hate it. I hate how he shows up when I don't ask, how he looks at me like I'm breakable. I don't need saving - I've got it sorted. The drink, the pills, the temper - all of it. My mess, not his. And every time I tell him to back off, to leave me be, he just gets closer, like I'm speaking in code. I don't need his pity or his perfect face. I don't need him. So why does part of me keep hoping he'll show up again tomorrow? *** Sinead Biggs. The reigning queen of Tommen. Sharp-tongued, sharp-eyed, and terrifying in heels. Everyone thinks she's just Cath's little sister - until she opens her gob and makes half the school cry before lunch. She walks those halls like she owns them, and honestly? She kind of does. The lads are scared of her. The girls want to be her. And me? I'm hopelessly, pathetically into her. Everyone knows it. My mates won't shut up about it. Even when she's tearing strips off me with that mouth of hers, I'm there grinning like a gobshite. Because deep down, I remember. I remember when we used to be best friends. When she used to laugh like a lunatic at my stupid jokes, when her hand would brush mine and neither of us would move away. But then came Owen Rice - the prick. Then came that night. The accident. The hospital. And when she came back, she wasn't the same. She'd built up walls with barbed wire. She'd become someone colder, louder, crueler. But I still see her. The girl I knew. And every once in a while, when no one's looking, I think she sees me too.

"𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞, 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫." 𐮚𐮙𐮚𐮙𐮚༄ 𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐇𝐆 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇 grew up in an abusive household for the first few years of his life, and his life turned around when the Kavanagh's took he and his family into their home. Now at age seventeen, he's going into his fifth year at Tommen College, but despite the area code change and his new upbringing, he still holds that trauma that flows through his veins, refusing to let anyone get too close to him. That is until he meets Aisling Byrne. ‎𐮚𐮙𐮚𐮙𐮚༄ 𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐍𝐄 has been on the run from her abusive father for six months, and has finally found solitude in County Cork, Ireland, in the town of Ballylaggin with her grandparents, her mother, and older cousin, Niall. Entering her fifth year at Tommen College, Aisling is determined to stay focused and stay alert, not letting anyone get too close. But when Tadhg Lynch, the troubled and violent, but beautiful student, enters her life, there's no way she can stay away, and neither can he.

Aidan Feely. One of the most mysterious lads I've ever come across. He's got this quiet, brooding energy, like he's always a step removed from the chaos around him. Tall and lean, with that messy, dark hair that always seems perfectly tousled, as if he's just rolled out of bed and still somehow looks better than half the school. His green eyes - God, those eyes - sharp and intense, like he can see straight through you. I know boys are meant to be handsome, rugged, all that, but Aidan is just... beautiful. Long, dark lashes that half the girls in school would kill for, and a jawline that looks like it was carved from marble. He never says more than he has to, rarely smiles, and when he does, it's this rare, fleeting thing that makes my heart skip a beat. And I'm falling. Hard. But there's a problem. A massive one. I have a boyfriend. And he's nothing like Aidan. *** Sophie Quinn. The girl I've been losing my mind over for the past year. She's this whirlwind of chaos and laughter, the type of girl who lights up a room just by walking into it. She's got that wild, curly hair that never quite does what it's told, a laugh that echoes around the halls, and these eyes - bright and full of life - that catch the light in the best possible way. But here's the kicker - she has a boyfriend. Some tosser who doesn't deserve her. I see him around, loud and arrogant, one of those lads who thinks the world owes him something just because he can kick a ball straight. And it grates at me. I catch him throwing his arm around her, whispering in her ear, and it takes everything in me not to pull him off and tell him to keep his hands to himself. Not that I'd ever say it out loud, but I want her. More than I should. And I know she's starting to notice. The way I lean in a bit closer when she talks, the way my gaze lingers when she brushes past me. She's catching on, I can feel it. And I don't care about her boyfriend, not even a little. Because in the end, I'm going to have her.