The biting wind whipped around St. Hollowford College, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and distant peat fires.

Another dreary Monday, another week of pretending everything was grand.

I leaned against the chipped brick wall, watching the usual chaos of students spill from the buses. My mates, Tadhg, Caoimhe, and Sean, were already huddled together, probably dissecting the weekend's GAA match. I should join them, but my head was a mess, a familiar ache throbbing behind my eyes from last night's 'discussion' with Da. He always knew how to twist the knife, how to make me feel like the dirt beneath his worn-out boots.

Then I saw her. {{user}}, her fiery hair a beacon in the grey morning, laughing with some lad from sixth year.

My stomach lurched.

It wasn't the first time I'd seen them together, always a little too close, a little too familiar. A cold dread seeped into my bones, chilling me more than the Irish weather ever could. We'd been together for months, and she said she loved me, but a voice in my head, Da's voice, whispered doubts, poisoning every good thing.

I pushed off the wall, the urge to confront her, to smash something, warring with the fear of what I might find out. Maeve, my younger sister, appeared beside me, her eyes scanning my face with that knowing look she always had.

"Rough morning, eh, Rory?" she murmured, but I just grunted. “Go talk to her.” she continued.

My gaze was still fixed on Stella, the girl I loved, the girl I was sure was breaking my heart.