Chapter Twenty-Four
Twenty-Four
I made a mistake.
When Nora invited me to her birthday party a few days ago at the store, Paige was right at the counter with us.
The look she gave me was a clear threat: Say yes or face the consequences.
It isn’t the first time Nora has asked me to hang out.
Her tone is a little less hopeful every time. But she still asks.
I’d thought a yes in the moment could avoid that sad, pitying look from my aunt, but only now, as I dig through my closet for something somewhat presentable, I realize I should have taken the pity.
I’ve only been to a few parties, and I went with Harper. She was usually the one invited, and I was the sidekick. Each time was the same. A dark, crowded house. The thrumming bass shaking the foundation. Sticky floors and badly mixed drinks and thundering music.
I try to channel Harper’s courage as I riffle through my clothes. A pair of combat boots she always insisted I wear when we went out, to avoid getting my toes stepped on. A pair of tight black jeans with holes in the knees. A dark green crop top.
Once I’m dressed, I move to the mirror hanging on my closet door to inspect myself. I’m not much for doing my hair, haven’t so much as glanced at a curling iron or straightener in years, so it falls down my chest in loose, dark waves.
Harper would be pleased, I think.
“Time to find this girl a catwalk,” she’d say, with that big grin of hers.
With no warning, the grief expands into my chest, filling me up like a balloon.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Someone clears their throat behind me. I jump, turning to find Finn lingering near the closed door.
“Oh.” Finn’s gaze falls, tracing all the way up my form. Heat prickles my skin.
“I should change, shouldn’t I?” I say.
Finn shakes his head. His eyes are a little wide, and I think he might be blushing.
“No, you should not—” He stops, swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You look beautiful.”
Now it’s my turn to blush. I wrap my arms around my torso.
“You’re going out?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not a complete recluse.”
Finn pulls his bottom lip into his teeth and inhales, as if getting ready to rebuke me.
“Not a word,” I say, jabbing a finger at him.
He cracks a wan smile, lifting his hands in surrender.
He crosses to the bed, dropping onto the edge of it, then leans back on his palms. “Where are you going?”
And that’s when it hits me. Nora’s party. Nora’s birthday.
Finn’s birthday.
I am the biggest asshole on the planet.
There’s no playbook for a situation like this.
“To Nora’s,” I say.
“Big birthday blowout?” he asks. There’s an edge to his voice. It tugs at the loss living right under my skin.
I clear my throat. “Yeah,” I say. I nudge my closet door shut and make my way to the bed beside him. I lean over to knock my shoulder against his, remembering too late.
“Good.” Finn stares down at his sneakers. The same sneakers he’s worn since he died.
A lump pushes up my throat, settling on the back of my tongue. Tears prick the backs of my eyes. I try to blink them away to no avail.
“No crying on birthdays.” Finn reaches up, thumb ghosting, literally, beneath my eye. The tear trails down my cheek, unwavering.
I can’t help the laugh that slips past my lips. “Pretty sure that’s baseball.”
“Birthdays make more sense.”
I laugh again and wipe my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I wasn’t trying to make you sad. You’re supposed to have fun tonight.”
“You should be celebrating, too,” I say.
Finn smiles, but it’s a hollow smile. He folds his arms across his chest, and I can’t help seeing it as some kind of barrier. I just don’t know if it’s to keep me out or keep something in.
He glances back at the clock. “You should get going. Don’t want to be late to my party.”
I grumble a bit, pushing to my feet. I jam my phone into my pocket and grab a coat.
When I reach the door, I turn back to Finn. “Happy birthday, Finn,” I say.
He smiles and closes his eyes. “Have fun, Jo.”