𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝟐 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐉 & 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇 AJ Lynch. The boy I fell in love with when I was barely old enough to understand what love really was-and somehow, impossibly, the man I'm still in love with now. Everything with him feels like a fairytale most days. But there's one thing. One very shiny, very specific thing he hasn't done yet. He hasn't asked. And I'd be lying if I said I don't notice. I do. I notice every pause, every almost-moment, every time his hand lingers in his pocket like he's checking something's still there. I tell myself not to rush him, not after everything we've survived. Because old shadows have a way of resurfacing when you least expect them-quiet, heavy, unresolved. And when they creep back into view, even fairytales hold their breath. *** Catherine Biggs. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my entire life. Strong. Sharp. Soft where it matters. The python herself, coiled confidence and quiet fire. I know she's waiting. I know she deserves the question. The ring. The promise spoken out loud. And it is coming. Soon. But old shadows don't disappear just because you're happy now. They linger at the edges, reminding you of what you almost lost, what you barely survived. And when they step back into view, even the bravest man needs a moment to steady himself-because when I ask her, I want nothing standing between us. Not fear. Not ghosts. Not the past.

I had never needed anyone. I didn't know what it was like to need a person until I met him. I needed him. He looked at me as if there was something inside me worth looking at. I hated him for it. Why? Because I could see myself loving him. If only things had happened differently.

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.