Page 43 of Win You Over

Remington

“ I ’m sorry about your knife. I don’t know what happened to it.” My head is on Holden’s stomach, his hand carding through my hair as we lie on my bed, my room lit only by the soft glow of my lamp.

“I’m not worried about it,” he replies. I try to make out the expression in his voice. If he’s telling me the truth or if the loss is upsetting him.

“You’re sure?”

He puts two fingers under my chin and tips my face until I’m looking up at him.

“I’m sure. I don’t need a comfort knife when I have a comfort Remington.” His smile is bright, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“A comfort Remington? There’s a ring to that. Careful, baby. Everyone is going to want one.”

Holden laughs, throwing his head back.

“Never change, Remington Langford.”

I kiss his stomach, fluttering my tongue over his belly button, and he wriggles under the action.

His ticklish spots are my favourite. Skating a hand over his chest and to his side, I dig my fingers into his ribs, making him shriek and squirm, his fingers tightening in my hair as he tries to pull me off of him.

“Baby, when will you learn? That is not a deterrent.” I shuffle up the bed and kiss along his jaw, up to his ear, and then rest my head on the pillow next to him.

We face each other, both of us quiet until Holden speaks. His words make my shoulders tense, the urge to tell him to drop it on the tip of my tongue.

“I think you should forgive him.”

I pull back and he makes a grab for my shoulder.

“Hear me out,” Holden continues. “You’ve known him for sixteen years. That’s a shit long time to let it end like this.” I open my mouth to protest and he shuts me up by placing his palm over my lips.

“I’m not saying you have to invite him back into your life. Just talk to him. Get his side of the story.”

Holden removes his hand.

“Why would you want me to forgive him, after what he did to you? To us? Why do you think he deserves that?”

He shakes his head against the pillow.

“Forgiveness is not for him. It’s for you.”

I mull over his words, contemplating how freeing it would be to let go of this hurt and betrayal I’m drowning in.

And I know he’s right. This grudge I’m holding against Finn isn’t good for me.

It’s heavy and crushing and I want it gone.

Forgiving him doesn’t mean he’s my friend, it’s a chance for us to both move on in our separate directions.

“You’re too kind for your own good.”

I press up onto my elbow and lean over him, finding a marker pen next to the bed.

“Your tattoos have faded,” I say around the pen lid, using my teeth to pull it off.

Then I press the marker to his skin and leave my marks all over him, pausing only to suck purple lovebites into the flesh on his hips.

Finn’s house stands in the centre of a cul-de-sac, bracketed on either side by a wide lawn and then two equally enormous mansions. Lifting my hand, I knock on the imposing black door. The key, which I’ve had since we were twelve, sits heavily in my palm.

Stepping back, I wait. Not long after, there’s movement behind the glass panel that runs the length of the door. When Finn swings it open, my breath catches in my throat.

He looks bad. His left eye is swollen shut, and there’s a gash down his arm that’s raised and red, with a dark mottled purple around the edges.

“Rem,” he says, his eyes not meeting mine. “What are you doing here?”

I swallow thickly, my hands itching to reach out for him. I’ve seen this before. I’ve comforted him through this so many times in the past. But I can’t do that anymore.

Steeling myself, I say, “I need answers, Finnegan.”

His fringe falls in front of his eyes when he nods, and he wipes it away as he steps aside and ushers me in.

“Where is your dad?” I ask.

“At the country club kissing ass with someone or other.”

I follow Finn through the entry hall and into the kitchen.

It looks so different to the last time we were here.

Wordlessly, I place my key on the counter, my eyes lingering on the Scooby Doo keyring we won at the arcade one summer.

I have to turn my back to the key to stop from shoving it back in my pocket.

The act of leaving it feeling like the final curtain call on what we used to have.

Finn opens the fridge, takes out two cans of soda, and gestures for me to follow him downstairs to his gaming room.

I take a seat on the sofa and he sits opposite me on his large, mid back gaming chair.

A sweeping wave of nostalgia washes over me when I look around the room.

So many hours of my life have been spent here, just like this.

The two of us, playing on the Xbox, challenging each other to darts and doing whatever two teenagers do with too much time, too much money and bright futures ahead of them.

I shake my head, trying to dispel the memories. They hurt too fucking much.

For a moment, only silence exists between us. It’s heavy, an entirely separate entity in the room that is as loud as it is quiet.

“I wanted it to be me,” he whispers, looking down at his hands gripping his knees. “I wanted you to love me.”

My heart aches in the cavity of my chest.

“I did love you, Finn. You were my best friend.”

He smiles sadly, shaking his head.

“Not like that. You know what I mean.”

I lean forward in my chair, resting my elbows on my knees.

“You never said anything. We could have talked about it.”

He scoffs. “It wouldn’t have made a difference, would it?”

He’s not wrong. I don’t love Finn like that. I never have.

I shake my head and his bobs in agreement. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

He falls quiet, and I ask what I came here to find out – though I have my suspicions, I need to hear it from him.

“How did you do it?”

Finn sits back, his eyes looking everywhere but at me. My fingers flick at the tag on the unopened soda can.

“I went to your place while you were away, to get away from my dad for a bit. And I saw his bag in your room. So, I looked inside and found the knife.”

“And you took it…because?”

Finn’s hands fidget on his lap.

“Because I had already looked Holden up online. Everything can be found for a price. I found out what happened to him and to his dad. When I saw the engraving, I knew it was important to him.”

My jaw aches, my teeth grating together.

“You wanted to hurt him?”

He knocks his hands on his knees, his lips pursed tightly. I get the impression he’s warring with how honest to be.

“Yes,” he says bluntly after a beat. “I wanted you to see who he really is. That he doesn’t fit in here. And I wanted him to hurt.”

Anger burns hot in my blood, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from yelling.

“We’re better than him. And that friend of his,” he adds.

“You sound exactly like your father and all the shit he sprouts about newcomers to this town.” It’s why he was elected as mayor in the first place – because the people of Marina Cove would be happy if no more outsiders ever visited our slice of Maine.

“He’s not wrong,” Finn interjects. “If Holden never came here, you’d still be mine.”

“I was never yours, Finn!” I yell, shaking my head and standing up. After everything that’s happened, his attitude is still the same.

“You were my best friend,” he remarks, his one open eye shining with unshed tears.

“And if you hadn’t pulled this shit, I still would have been! This has nothing to do with Holden and everything to do with the ugly person you’ve become.”

He looks up at me. A dejected and beaten puppy with sorrow-filled eyes that make my stomach sink.

“This,” I wave my hand in front of him, “has to stop.”

The muscles in his neck tense as he turns his head away from me.

“I defended you, Finn. I told Holden you are a good guy. Under all this bullshit, there’s the guy who held me as I cried the first, second and every time after my grandmother forgot my birthday.

The boy who would fill up cups of grape candy for me and who never made fun of me when it took me longer than everyone else to learn how to ride a bike. ”

Finn rubs a hand over his face, flinching as it passes over his swollen eye.

“And then one day you turned into this huge dick, and I missed it. Or I wore blinders or some shit.” I move towards the door, Finn standing when my foot reaches the bottom step.

“I came here today to tell you I forgive you.”

His face brightens, but I wipe it away with my next words.

“But we’re done. You broke my heart, Finnegan, and you cannot undo it.”

“Rem.”

My throat tightens, and my eyes burn.

“Get out of this place and away from that abusive piece of shit. Go see what the world has to offer outside of this fucking town. Just do something besides sit here and suffocate under his fucked up ideals. Prove me right. That under all of this, you are a good guy.”

I walk up three steps before he’s behind me, calling my name.

“And if I do that? If I change. Will you take me back?”

God, I hurt everywhere, deep into my soul.

I pause, take in a heavy breath, my hands trembling when I turn to face him again. When our eyes meet and I get flashes of the Finn that stood by me all those years, I don’t have an answer. So I say nothing. I turn and walk out of the house.

When I get home, I collapse on my bed, burying my face in a pillow that smells like Holden. And then I cry until I have no more tears left, and I feel ready to move past this. Or at the very least, to try.