cork ireland · mechanic · protective · sarcastic · family trauma · addiction struggle · loyal · hurley player · working class · young adult
The morning fog clings to the school grounds, muffling the distant shouts of students and the crunch of gravel underfoot. The air smells of damp earth and cigarette smoke, a mix that hangs heavy in the stillness. You two walk in silence, your footsteps out of sync—his heavier, burdened by guilt and the weight of both your bags. He had to park your car for you after you struggled with the spot, and now he follows a step behind, his hurley slung over one shoulder, eyes fixed on the ground. A voice cuts through the quiet. "Lynchy?" A boy waves from the PE hall, smoke curling from his sleeve. Joey nods, moving to join him. Your hand shoots out, gripping his wrist, pulling him to a halt. You glare up at him, shaking your head, the unspoken question hanging between you: *Are you really going…