Katie Wilmot already has enough problems. Patrick Feely has plenty of his own. Between family expectations, secrets, and the weight they're both carrying, neither of them is looking for another complication. Especially not each other. Especially not when Katie is already with someone else. His best friend. And Patrick already has a line he swore he'd never cross. And that was the problem from the start.

(Boys of Tommen fanfic) Ciara never believed in love. Not after watching her mam and dad's relationship. Yet, it was still something she craved so deeply. So when it showed up in front of her, she took it. Even if Tadhg wasn't the one offering it, like she wanted.

Maggie Biggs is nothing like her two older siblings. Not like Hughie, who despite all the drama going on in his life, is always confident and willing to batter anyone who looks sideways at the people he loves. And she's definitely not like Claire, who's so full of sunshine that if the sun went away Claire could replace it.

After suffering a tragic loss, Rory and her mam move to Cork, Ireland. She thought that life would never get better, until she laid eyes on Tadgh Lynch, and everything changed. For better, or for worse.

She's an American. Born and raised in Tennessee. Thats what she's used to. The rodeos, and the country accents, and the fast food, and the cowboys, and the football, and baseball, and nachos. So imagine how she feels when she finds out her dad has been placed in Cork, Ireland as his naval post.

AJ Lynch is the bane of my existence. He's like a rock in my shoe-small enough to ignore for a little while, but always there, annoying me until I lose my mind. He's the golden boy, the one who gets perfect grades, charms every teacher, and never steps a toe out of line-or so his parents think. Joey and Aoife Lynch's pride and joy, right? Wrong. Because here's the thing: AJ isn't as perfect as everyone thinks he is. He has a secret. A big one. And I, Catherine Biggs, the girl he loves to torment, am the only one who knows it. AJ Lynch is a racer. Yep, that kind of racer-the illegal kind. The kind that sneaks out at night to tear up the streets and put that shiny car of his to work. The golden boy isn't so golden after all, and trust me, I'd love nothing more than to use it against him. Too bad he's too clever for his own good. *** Catherine Biggs. The mean girl of Tommen School. The girl every guy pretends to hate but can't stop looking at. She's the one who gets a kick out of tormenting people, though her favorite targets seem to be boys. Lucky us. If you say anything remotely out of line about her or her little circle of friends, she's on you faster than you can blink. And honestly? She scares most of the lads here. Me? I'm counting down the days until she's out of my life for good. This is our last year, and soon I won't have to see her stupid curly blonde hair, or those blue eyes that are just... too much. I swear, her beauty is all she has going for her. Inside? She's rotten, blacker than black. The kind of girl who smiles while cutting you down. And yet... somehow, she's still in my head. And then there's her boyfriend. Cillian Wilkinson. All charm and dimples, like a walking ad for "Ireland's Most Eligible Teen." Everyone loves him-teachers, parents, even the lads. Except me. I hate the way he puts his arm around her, like she's his and no one else's. Because that's the problem with Catherine Biggs-she's not just in my head. She's under my skin.

Mike Biggs-the most handsome boy in Tommen. Bit of a gentleman, but he knows how to shut people up when needed. Never thought we'd be close, but after what happened with Sinead-his little sister and my best friend-things shifted. Do I like it? Can't say for sure. He's different when it's just the two of us. Softer. Kinder. But right now, I don't have time for love. I need to focus on becoming like my ma, playing in the orchestra. That's what matters. Not Mike Biggs and whatever this is between us... right? Bridget Feely-shy, sweet, and has this quiet kind of beauty that sneaks up on you. We've been friends for a while, and maybe-just maybe-I've thought about her as more than that. But I never let myself dwell on it. Until I heard her play the violin. Christ, I had no idea she could play like that. Now? Now I can't stop thinking about her. The way she looks when she plays, the way the music seems to carry her somewhere else. And just like that, I'm completely gone for the girl.

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.

Finn Gibson. Number seven on the rugby team. A gentleman, proper like. Always opening doors and saying things like "after you" and "you alright there?" in this soft voice that somehow makes you feel seen. He's funny too - not the show-off type of funny, more the kind where you're halfway through laughing before you realise it was even a joke. Real clever wit, quiet like. It's not fair, honestly. And he drums, like actually properly drums, not just tapping out rhythms on the school desk like every other lad in Tommen. He's in a band and all. Do I like him? Yeah. I like him loads. More than I should. But this isn't that kind of story. I come from a house where everything's heavy. Where things crack and break and no one says sorry. Where nice things don't last, and if you want something - really want something - it gets used against you. You don't let your heart out in a place like mine. You learn to nod and keep quiet and do what Da says, even when you hate it, even when it's wrong. That's just how it is. So when Finn looks at me like I matter - really, properly matter - I want to believe it. I want to tell him I think about him when I fall asleep. So yeah. I like Finn Gibson. But liking someone like him... it feels like trying to hold light in your hand. Beautiful. Impossible. *** Mina O'Neill. Jesus, I don't even know where to start with her. She's the most beautiful human being I've ever seen in my life, and I mean that with my whole chest. She moves like she doesn't even touch the ground. A ballerina, and not the stuck-up kind either. She's always working, always rehearsing, and when she talks about dance, it's like watching someone light up from the inside. And me? I'm just... me. Watching her from the side of things. Hoping. I think she knows. I know she knows. She's not daft. But there's something holding her back. I don't know what. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's something in her life I don't see. But I'm not giving up.

Brendan Clearly. He was the lad I liked since I was barely out of pigtails, the one who never slagged me off when the rest of the boys thought it was gas. He was different. Always smiling, always asking me if I'd eaten, like some little mammy trapped in a seventeen-year-old fella's body. It sounds stupid, but those tiny things kept me going. And then I went and wrecked it. Not just with him-no, I managed to shatter it with all of them. My friends, the ones who made the halls feel less lonely, the ones who kept me tethered here when the world felt too heavy. Gone. Because of me. Just a mistake, that's all it was, but a mistake that cost me everything. And now when I see him across the yard, laughing with the others, it's like a knife. He doesn't even look my way. And I deserve that, don't I? *** Caoimhe Kavanagh. Once upon a time she was my best mate. The kind of girl you'd sit on a wall with for hours, talking about nothing and everything. She was soft, kind, never the type to go looking for trouble. But now? I hardly recognise her. She's gone cold, sharp, always hanging 'round with that crowd-the type of people you know are only bad news. Ciggies tucked in their sleeves, mouths full of poison. And she's right there in the middle of it, like she belongs to them now. Part of me wants to write her off, tell myself she's not the Caoimhe I knew. That girl's dead and gone. But... I can't. I remember too much. The way she used to laugh, the way she'd defend you even when you were being a gobshite, the way she cared more than she ever let on. That's still inside her, I swear it is. I don't care how hard she tries to hide behind the mask she's wearing now-I know my friend is in there somewhere. And I'll drag her back if I have to. Because she's worth it.