Page 72

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When Finny’s car pulls up, I am sitting on the front steps waiting. They are early. Finny honks and I stand up. It is night, and it is warm. I run down the long lawn to him.

When I get there, Jack is getting out of the front seat and moving to the back.

“Oh no,” I say. “I can sit in the back.”

“No,” he says, “ladies up front.” It’s our longest exchange ever. I sit down and close the door.

“Jack likes to pretend that he’s a gentleman,” Finny says. “But don’t be fooled.”

“Finn, how am I supposed to make a good impression on your friend if you talk about me like that?”

“I didn’t say you had to like each other,” he says. What he did say—to me at least—was it bothered him that his two best friends hardly knew each other. He just wanted us to go to one movie together, just one. I had been ready to protest, but when he called me his best friend, I was too pleased. I’m not sure if Jack was hard to convince.

“Let’s get along just to spite him,” I say. Jack laughs. This might be okay.

I don’t want to see the spy movie or the comedy with crude humor, so the boys convince me to agree to the horror flick. In the first fifteen minutes, the girl opens a closet door and a dressmaker’s dummy falls out. I scream and cover my eyes. Jack and Finny both laugh, but Finny also asks if I’m going to be okay. I nod and hunch down in my seat.

An hour later, we are at the climax. The girl opens another door and sees her boyfriend hanging from the rafters. She screams and the camera zooms in for a close-up of his face. I flinch and turn my head to the side. My forehead nudges into Finny’s shoulder. More screams, and I flinch again.

“You okay?” Finny whispers. I nod, and my forehead rubs against him. He pulls away from me. Mortified, I quickly lift my head and look back at the screen.

And I feel Finny put his arm around my shoulders.

Kind of. Mostly it’s just on the back of my seat and sort of touching me, just barely. But his fingers are definitely on my shoulder and at the next scary part he gently presses them into me.

“I’m okay,” I whisper. Jack looks over at us.

Afterward, as Finny is starting the car, Jack says, “Hey, do you guys want to get drunk tonight?”

“Yes,” I say. Finny shrugs.

“If you guys want to,” he says.

“Where would we get it from though?” I ask.

“My brother works at the liquor store on Rock Road,” Jack says.

“Are you serious?” I look at Finny. “Is that where you always got your stuff?”

“Yeah,” Jack says. Finny shrugs again.

***

We sit in the parked car with the windows down and get drunk behind our mothers’ houses. The boys got a liter of Coke, poured a third out, and filled the rest up with whiskey. They are sitting in the front passing it back and forth. I’m stretched out in the backseat with a six-pack of something pink with tropical flowers on it. Finny picked it out for me. He said I would like it. I wonder if it’s what Sylvie drinks.

“You’re going to have to stay at my place tonight,” Finny says. “I’m not going to be able to drive you home.” Jack takes a long swig and passes the bottle.

“You sure won’t,” he says. I giggle and watch Finny take a huge gulp. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and somehow makes the gesture masculine and elegant.

“So, Autumn,” Jack says. He turns around in his seat to face me. “Why did you break up with Jamie? ’Cause everybody thought you two were gonna get married and stuff.”

“Yeah, so did I,” I say. “But he cheated on me with Sasha, so that’s not happening.”

“Seriously?” Jack says. He makes a face and holds his hands up. “She’s not even—um—”

“Half as pretty as me? Yeah, I know.”

Jack laughs out loud. “Well, you’re modest.”

“But it’s true.”

“Yeah, but you’re not supposed to know that.”

“Why?” I say. I sit up and lean forward so my head is between their seats. “Why should I have to pretend that I don’t know I’m pretty when everybody’s telling me all the time?”

“You’re just not supposed to know.”

“While you two argue, I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Finny says. He gets out and closes the door. Jack watches him go.

“I mean, it’s not like I think I’m a better person or something,” I say. “It’s not even an accomplishment. It’s just the way I look.” I hear the screen door close behind Finny.

“Listen,” Jack says. He looks back at me. “Can you honestly tell me you’re not just screwing with his head?”

“What?” I say.

“I’m serious. Finn’s my friend, you know?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I was there back in middle school,” Jack says.

“Okay,” I say. “So was I.”

Jack sighs. “If you’re not serious about this, then don’t mess with his head. He and Sylvie aren’t always good together, but it’s better than him obsessing over you again.”

“He—what?” I feel as if Jack had turned around and punched me in the stomach. I swallow even though my mouth is suddenly dry. Finny hadn’t kissed me just because he wanted to see what it was like to kiss a girl; he really had liked me. Even though we are alone, I lower my voice. “Has he said something to you?”

“No. He says you guys are just friends. But he said that last time and it still took him forever to get over you,” Jack says. I look down, afraid that I’m going to cry from disappointment. For one moment, my heart had leaped into my throat. “I didn’t mean to upset you or whatever,” Jack says.

“No,” I say, “it’s just not like that with me an’ Finny.” I swallow again and take a breath. Jack picks up the jug again.

“That’s weird,” he says.

“What is?” I say.

“You call him ‘Finny,’ like his mother does.” I smile a little.

“Well,” I say, “I’ve known him for almost as long as his mother has.”

“I know.”

“And that’s what everyone used to call him. The Mothers sometimes call him Phineas, though, and I only call him that when I’m mad at him.” I hear the back door open, and we both turn and look. Finny walks down the back steps. He’s carrying a bag of pretzels.

“Don’t say anything, okay?” Jack says.

“Of course not. And it’s not like that with us anyway.”