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Finn
laughed, looking back at me. Shit, did I say that out loud?

“Not one for PDA, huh?” he asked.

Not really one for affection, generally speaking
, I thought, this time managing to keep my drunken ramblings contained.

I just shrugged and shouldered past him, making my way to Lexi.

“Lex,” I said, trying to pull her gaze from Tyler. “I want to leave. I’m exhausted.”

“Okay,” she murmured, not bothering to look up at me, “I’m going to go home with Ty.”

“Fine,” I snapped. “Whatever. You’re really campaigning for friend of the year, aren’t you Lex?” My voice dripped with sarcasm.

She finally looked away from Tyler, startled by my harsh tone.

“What the hell, Brooklyn. Don’t be a bitch to me just because you’re drunk and pissed off. Go home,” she said.

“Are you kidding me, Lexi?
I’m
the bitch in this scenario?”

I was livid. How could she even
call herself my friend? She was abandoning me to go hook up with some random guy, after forcing me to come out against my will! I’d opened my mouth to really let her have it when a large hand slipped over my lips, effectively silencing me. Finn slowly dragged me around toward the front passenger seat, only removing his hand when I’d stopped trying to squirm out of his grasp and bite his fingers off.

“What the
hell, Finn,” I snapped, glaring up at him. “Who do you think you are?”

“I’m the guy who just saved your drunk-ass from saying something you’d never be able to take back. She’s your best friend, Brooklyn,” he said, as if I needed a reminder. “Yeah, she’s being selfish tonight. But we all get selfish sometimes, so
let it go. You have a ride home; you’re not stranded.”

“Fine,” I
sighed, still pissed off but unwilling to fight with anyone else tonight. “I just want to go home.” I didn’t exactly feel comfortable going with him, but it was my only option thanks to Lexi’s abandonment.

“Then let’s get you there,” he said, climbing into the passenger seat. Scott was already situated at the wheel, tapping out a rhythm on the dashboard as he waited to leave.

“Come on,” Finn said, reaching down to grab my upper arms and pulling me up into the van with seemingly little effort. Before I could protest, I was firmly settled on his lap and we were rolling out of the alleyway. I glanced in the rearview mirror as we pulled away; Lexi and Tyler were walking toward a beat-up blue sedan, stopping to make-out every few steps.

I snorted at the sight, too drunk to worry about being ladylike, and heard
Finn chuckle in response. I was perched on his knees, my back ramrod straight with tension. His hands moved to stroke the sensitive area on the inside of my elbows, and he gently pulled me back to lie against his chest.

“Relax,” he whisp
ered in my ear, “I don’t bite – unless you’re into that kind of thing, that is.”

I elbowed him in the ribs, laughing softly despite myself. Reluctantly, I relaxed into him, letting my head fall back to rest on his shoulder blade. I had to admit, he was comfortable. And warm.

“How did you get to Styx tonight? It’s a pretty far walk from campus,” he noted.

“We took the bus,” I explained sleepily, my eyes closing as my muscles slowly unclenched, releasing a day’s worth of tension.

The tequila, my exhaustion, and his radiating warmth joined forces, dragging me under and lulling me to sleep.

***

“Hey, Brooklyn, wake up,” Finn’s voice whispered, startling me back into consciousness. “We’re at your house.”

Groggily, I lifted my head from the crook of his neck and looked out the passenger window. Sure enough, we were parked o
utside the yellowing Victorian.

Finn
’s arms were wrapped around my torso, holding me to his chest. While asleep, I’d snuggled close to his warmth – which left me in an extremely embarrassing predicament now that I was awake.

“Oh, okay
,” I muttered, sure my cheeks were on fire. Hopefully he couldn't tell in the darkness of the van. Awkwardly extracting myself from Finn’s arms, I turned to Scott.

“Thank you for the ride, I really appreciate it.”

He nodded in response.

I threw open the passenger door and scrambled off
Finn’s lap as quickly as my heels would allow. To my surprise, he jumped out after me.

“What are you doing?” I asked nervously. “You can’t come in.”

Finn ignored me, turning back to Scott. “Give me five minutes, man. I’ll be right back,” he said, shutting the passenger door. He looked down at me, frowning. “I’m walking you to your door, smartass. I promised I’d get you home, and I’m not leaving you at the curb dressed like that, as drunk as you are.”

“I’m fine! And what is
that
supposed to mean?” I said, indicating my dress.

“
Never mind,” he muttered, exasperated. “Just come on.” He grabbed my arm and led me to the side stairway.

“Do you even have your key?” he asked, doubtfully.

“Yes, of course,” I said, turning out of his view so I could retrieve the house key from its hiding spot in my bra.

“Classy,” he joked.
             

“Easier than carrying a purse,” I
countered without apology, shrugging and starting up the narrow stairway.

I could hear him following me, laughing quietly under his breath as we ascended. Reaching the balcony, I unlocked the patio door and turned to face
Finn.

“Thank you for getting me home safely,” I said sincerely, somewhat amazed that I was now indebted to such a jerk
– or maybe that he was turning out to be not such a jerk after all.

“Not a problem,” he said, smiling as
though he could read my thoughts.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” I decided. “And we’re definitely not friends.”

“Oh, yes we are,” Finn laughed. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Not likely,” I disagreed.

“Think what you want,” he said, as if he knew something I didn’t. “Goodnight, Brooklyn.”

“Goodnight,” I echoed, shutting the door between us and making my way, finally, to the comforting warmth of my bed.

Great Expectations

Tears tracked slowly down my face, dripping onto my pink Hello Kitty t-shirt and marring it with small wet blotches.  I watched from the backseat as the man jerked the wheel sharply sideways, my head slamming roughly into the window when the car fishtailed around a corner. I whimpered under my breath, but he didn’t hear me.

I tried not to think about the parking lot. About Mommy. But I was scared, and I didn’t want to stay back here anymore, and where were we going? And why so fast? I trembled and squeezed my eyes shut, praying silently that it was all a dream. Just a nightmare. Mommy will come in and wake me up any minute.

I heard the sound of sirens behind us, and the bad man said a curse. I knew it was a bad word because Mommy only ever said it when she was really upset or when something got broken, and afterwards she always made me promise never to repeat it.

“Fuck! God dammit!” The man was really angry, and maybe scared too. He was sweating and the car
kept going faster, faster, faster.

The sirens were getting closer.

Suddenly, the man started turning the wheel wildly, sending us swerving through traffic. I heard the beeps of other cars and saw a red stoplight fly by overhead as we raced below.

He was going too fast. Mommy
never
drove this fast.

He was going to hurt me, just like he
’d hurt her. I remembered the parking lot – watching Mommy falling to the ground like a rag-doll. She wasn’t going to get up; she’d never get up again.

My small hands clenched into fists. This bad man
had hurt Mommy.

I was going to hurt him back.

Without another thought, I launched my small body out of my booster seat and used all the strength I had to hit him in the face.

He was surprised; he’d thought he was alone in the car. When my fist cracked across his temple
, he yelled and lost his grip on the wheel. The car jolted, and I fell backwards onto my seat, clutching the booster straps tightly.

Something big crashed into the front of our SUV and then we were spinning, drifting in circles. The
man wasn’t holding the wheel anymore – his arms were covering his face as the front windows shattered and glass flew all around us. My head cracked sharply against my window once more, and this time I couldn’t keep from crying out in pain.

When we stopped moving, I opened my eyes. The man was bleeding and covered in glass
, but he was alive; he was also looking at me, his expression full of shock and disbelief.

My head hurt. I moved my hand up to touch it and sobbed. When I took my hand away, I saw that it was coated in bright red blood. Like Mommy’s blood, in the parking lot.

No, don’t think about that. Don’t think about Mommy.

The sirens were all around us now. My head
ached and I wanted to go home. I wanted Mommy. The man brushed some of the glass shards from his jacket before reaching over to the passenger seat. He cursed again, then found what he was looking for – a gun. The gun he’d used on Mommy.

Grasping
it in one hand, he turned to look at me.

“Come here,” he ordered, “You’re
gonna help me outta this mess, okay kid? You help me, I won’t hurt you – got it?”

I nodded and released the booster buckles with shaking hands. I tugged on my door handle but it wouldn’t budge
, and before I could crawl over to try the opposite side, the man had lunged back and grabbed me.

Dragging me over the console into the front seat with him, my bare arms scraped against the glass shards littering the driver’s side. I screamed when a huge, sharp piece got lodged in my collarbone, slashing deeply and releasing a torrent of blood.

“Shut up!” he growled. His face was bleeding and he was gripping my arm so tightly I knew it would leave behind a big bruise.

I whimpered.

“I said shut up! I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you, you little shit. I was home free, they weren’t gonna catch me. You fucked it all up. You made me crash.” He shook me roughly and my teeth clacked together from the force. I didn’t dare whimper this time, though.

He opened his door slowly,
holding me in front of him like a shield.

“I’ve got a kid
here,” he screamed to the waiting police officers. “Back the fuck off!”

He slowly eased out of the car, keeping a vise-like grip around my midsection. My feet dangled in the air, unable to reach the ground.  I felt something cold and metallic press against my temple.

When we were out of the car, I saw that there were at least ten police cars parked in a circle around us with their lights flashing. The front of Mommy’s SUV was smashed in from where we’d hit the highway guardrail.

It was get
ting harder to breathe; his arm was squeezing too tight around my chest. My lungs burned, my hair was wet with blood, and my pink t-shirt was stained bright red around my left collarbone.

I could hear the police
officers yelling at the bad man and him yelling back, but I couldn’t concentrate on the words. Everything slowly turned to black as my vision cut out and I faded into dark oblivion.

***

The scream tore out of my throat and I sat straight up in bed, gasping for breath and chilled to the bone. Taking calming breaths, I ran through my typical post-nightmare routine and gradually slowed my pounding heartbeat. A cursory glance at my cellphone informed me that it was almost seven in the morning. Thankfully, the nightmare had held off until dawn this time, allowing me a few extra hours of much-needed rest.

After making a cup of coffee, I grabbed my tattered copy of
Gone With the Wind
and propped open my bedroom window. A cool, early-morning breeze drifted in and I looked around my room for a sweatshirt to slip on before heading out onto the roof. Unable to find one amidst my stacks of unsorted laundry and far too impatient to search further, I swiped Finn’s leather jacket from its resting place on my desk chair and pulled my arms through the too-long sleeves. The jacket dwarfed me with excess material, hanging down to mid-thigh, but I knew it would keep me warm outside in the chilly autumn dawn.

Tucking my book under one arm and balancing a precariously full coffee mug, I maneuvered out the window and slid onto the roof. The morning sky was tinged pink with the sun’s arrival, and a light breeze stirred the leaves in the arcing branches of the maple. I bent my knees, drawing my legs up to my chest and wrapping
Finn’s coat snugly around them. Fully cocooned in his jacket, I was enveloped by the scents of rich leather and the crisp apples of harvest-time. Distressed by the idea of Finn invading my senses, I brought the mug to my nose and inhaled deeply, letting the rich coffee aroma push him from my mind.

I took a sip and thought back over the events of the previous night. Miraculously, I’d escaped the typical aftereffects of a tequila binge and was hangover free. My cheeks flamed as I remembered the way I’d fallen asleep on
Finn’s lap on the drive home. How was it that every interaction I had with that boy left me embarrassed and irritated beyond measure?

People didn’t usually get under my skin so easily. In fact, they rarely even made an impression. It disturbed me that a boy I’d known for about a nanosecond could leave me feeling so rattled and vulnerable after a few brief encounters.

Picking up my book, I traced a finger down its broken spine and flipped through the well-worn pages. I’d lost track long ago of how many times I’d read it. There was something about this particular story and the sweeping grandeur of the old south that called to me, allowing me to escape from my own time and lose myself completely within the pages. Books had given me an escape during the long years when I’d needed most to forget; when I read, Brooklyn disappeared and I became another girl, in different place, at some other time.

The sun crept slowly over the horizon, shooting warm yellow rays down through the abundantly leafed tree boughs and creating a kaleidoscope of shadows on my small perch. Flipping to a random page, I read until my coffee was gone and I heard the front door slam, announcing Lexi’s return. Angling my head to the sky, I let the emerging morning sun warm my face and hoped the coming day would be better than yesterday.

***

Wandering into the kitchen, I immediately spotted Lexi sprawled out on our sofa with one arm thrown over her eyes to block out the sun. I deposited my empty coffee mug in the dishwasher and made my way over to her, pulling her feet onto my lap as I sat at the end of the couch.

“How was the walk-of-shame?” I asked, indicating the red dress she still wore from last night. Lexi pulled her hand from her face and propped herself up on her elbows to look at me.  

“Actually, he drove me home, if you must know,” she said, smiling, “And he said he’d come over tonight.”

“So you had a good night, I take it?”

“Good doesn’t begin to cover it,” she squealed, before launching into an in-depth play-by-play of her entire evening. I sat patiently, listening to her analysis of the things Tyler had said and done for a solid hour before getting up to pour myself another cup of coffee. It looked like I was going to need it with the way this day was headed already.

“I’m sorry I left you,” Lexi admitted, “I know shouldn't have but I just really like him, Brooklyn. And I knew Finn would get you home safe.”

“You don’t even know
Finn, Lex,” I said, still slightly irritated by her selfishness. “He could’ve taken complete advantage of the situation.”

“He’s not a creep! You just haven't gi
ven him a chance,” she insisted. “You’re so hard on people, Brookie. You never let anyone in.”

“That’s not true!”
Okay, maybe it was kind of true.

“Brooklyn, I’m your best friend and I still know virtually nothing about your home life or your childhood. And that’s okay, because I love you. But you have to let somebody in eventually, or you’ll end up alone.”

I didn’t respond. How had this conversation suddenly turned around on me?

“Thanks, Dr. Phil. I r
eally appreciate it,” I snapped. “I’m going to take a shower.” I pushed her legs off my lap and stormed out of the room, knowing I needed space to cool down and time to remind myself that she was only trying to look out for me.

Back in my bedroom, I hopped in the shower and stood under the near-scalding water, hoping somehow it could wash away the emo
tions swirling inside my head.

A few moments later, my phone buzzed on my nightstand as I was pulling on a pair of jeans. I nearly tripped over my own feet in my hurry to answer the incoming call. The screen read
Blocked Number
– I wondered vaguely who it was as I lifted the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” I asked, slightly out of
breath. When no one responded I repeated myself, less patiently this time. “
Hello
? Is someone there?”

I could hear someone breathing on the other end of the line, but they still didn’t respond.

“Who is this?” I demanded, growing angry as a chill raced up my spine. I could feel the fine hair coating my forearms beginning to prickle in alarm.

The slow breathing continued.

“I know you’re there. I can hear you breathing,” I pointed out.

Still no response.

“Don’t call here again, creep,” I hissed into the phone, jabbing at the screen to end the call.

First the nightmare, then
a fight with Lexi, and now a disturbing prank caller? If this morning was any indication, it was going to be a long ass day. 

***

That evening, I trudged home from campus in a relentless downpour. What had begun as a beautiful sunny day had quickly turned overcast as ominous storm clouds overtook the blue sky. I stepped out of my last class and, as if it had been waiting for me, the sky opened up and sent down buckets of rain that soaked through my jeans and thin t-shirt within minutes. Unequipped to handle the fast-forming puddles, my flimsy sandals continually skidded across the wet sidewalks as I sloshed through the streets. Of all days to forget my umbrella at home, of course it had to be today.

As I hurried around the corner onto my street, I began to sense a presence behind me. It wasn’t as if I could hear footsteps following me, since the pounding
rain drowned out all sound, but I knew instinctively that someone was walking behind me.

W
atching me.

Without stopping, I cast a furtive glance over one shoulder and tried to see who it was. The heavy rain and
thick cloud cover had darkened the sky – though I thought I could make out a shadowy form standing still on the sidewalk about twenty yards behind me on the otherwise abandoned street.

Who stands out on the street in weather like this?

I began to walk faster, suddenly eager to get home for more reasons than just the rain. No doubt looking like a drowned cat, I cursed myself for not checking the weather forecast this morning and continued my waterlogged trudge.