The Ordinary Life of Emily P. Bates (22 page)

              I laughed out loud at that thought. There was no possible way that Finn could swing that way. It just wasn’t his
thing.

              Whatever it was, I was determined to find out, and if Finn was the only person who could decide to tell me, then I’d just have to convince
him
to tell me.

              That entire day was just a blur. I was so distracted. All day I wracked my brain for any way to convinced Finn to just spill the beans. By this point my curiosity had exploded into a full blown need-to-know situation. What was so terrible about ending a three month relationship that I couldn’t know about it?

              “What’s the matter with you?” Shannon whispered during Chemistry. “What was going on this morning after breakfast?”

              “Nothing,” I said and immediately returned my focus to my notes.

              “It’s not nothing. It’s always something with you,” she said. “I’m the one who says ‘nothing.’”

              “Well today I’m saying ‘nothing.’ Leave it alone.”

              She glared at me and turned back around in her seat to face the front, her loose hair whipping across my desk in a flurry. I was going to pay for that later, but hopefully it would be worth it. Maybe she would understand later when I could explain all of this to her. If I could explain it.

              By the time I got to Lit class and I had Finn on his own for the most part, I had a million clever ways to worm the information out of him.

              “Hey,” he said without looking up from his book as usual. It was the same nondescript volume he’d been reading at breakfast.

All of my clever ideas clamored over each other to be the first to my mouth, but in the end the lamest one of all won out. “I talked to Margo this morning.”

His eyes shot to my face, but he didn’t say anything at all. He just waited. I couldn’t tell if he was afraid or furious.

I went for it anyway. With a very stern voice I said, “She told me everything.”

Finn’s face went ghostly pale in an instant. He couldn’t tear his eyes from my face, but his expression was completely unreadable. “And?”

I shrugged, but refused to let on that I was relying on him to say something first.

“You have to have an opinion,” he said in a low voice, then muttered to himself, “I can’t believe she told you.”

“Well she did.”

He studied my face for a few seconds, and then the color began to return to his face. “She didn’t tell you anything at all, did she?”

“Yes. She told me everything.”

I hadn’t fooled him. He settled back into his chair, glowering at me. “You know if you had tried that on Shannon it might have worked
.
”

“I’m not trying anything!” I was desperate now, though I knew the gig was up.

“Give it up, Emily!”

Ms. Walsh was walking around the class now, passing out packets of paper. She got to our table and gave us both meaningful looks that clearly said, “No talking,” but we both ignored her.

“Just leave well enough alone, all right?” he whispered the instant Ms. Walsh was out of earshot. “It’s all over. Let it go.”

“Why won’t you just tell me?”

He didn’t get his chance to answer, though, because Ms. Walsh started class. “All right everybody, welcome back. I hope you all had a great Christmas break, but the holiday’s over. We’re going to take some time now and work through some of these texts that I’ve passed out to you. Read through your packet carefully, I’ll give you about twenty minutes, then we’ll discuss them.”

              I glared down at the packet in my hand without really seeing it. I hadn’t given up on Finn. Not yet.

              When the bell rang, I gathered up my things quickly with a mind to storm out and leave without Finn. As it turned out I didn’t have to bother. Instead of following me out the door, Finn stayed behind to talk to Ms. Walsh about the assignment. That didn’t surprise me. He was always hanging around getting more details about whatever homework we had. Usually I waited with him, but I couldn’t make myself do that today.

              But then again, this could be my one last chance to get the truth out of him while the subject was still on the front burner. While he was angry. It’s always easier to slip up when you’re angry.

              So though I left the room with the rest of the class, I hung around just outside the door to wait for Finn. The halls emptied quickly while I waited, which was probably for the best. I expected an all out screaming fight when Finn and I got going. A few minutes later, Finn emerged from the classroom.

He jumped when he saw me leaning against the wall. “Don’t scare me like that!”

              “Tell me what happened!”

              He scowled and brushed past me down the hall. I had to practically jog to keep up with his long stride. Our quick footsteps bounced off of the painted cinderblock walls. The hallway was deserted.

              “Why won’t you just tell me?”

              “I told you, I don’t want you to worry about it.”

              “That’s a lie and you know it!” I took a couple of running jumps to get in front of him, but he just dodged me and continued down the hall. The entire school seemed empty now aside from a few stragglers in the classrooms.

              “Why are you bugging me about this?” he asked. We turned the corner and stopped abruptly at his locker. He started jamming books inside and digging around for various items with far more force than was necessary.

              “Because everyone else seems to know what’s going on except for me, and everyone refuses to tell me!”

              “Curiosity killed the cat.”

              “I’m not a stupid cat, Finnegan!” My voice echoed down the hallway. If class had been in session, we could have expected several angry teachers to round the corner at any moment.

              He turned and stared me accusingly in the eye. “You never told me why you and Cavanaugh split.”

              He was trying to distract me, but I wouldn’t let him. “We split because boys are silly and they don’t wash themselves as often as they should. Your turn!”

He threw his hands into the air in exasperation. “Fine! Me and Margo just decided we didn’t like each other that way. All right? Happy?”

              “No.”

              “How is my answer any less valid than yours?”

              “Because my love life isn’t the issue right now!” I yelled. “And because if that were the truth, you wouldn’t have t
old Shannon to keep out of it. You said it would screw me up!
”

              He rounded on me, indignant now. “Now hold on! When did I say-”

              “I heard you yelling at Shannon after the stink bomb!” He started to say something accusitory, his index finger already jabbing in my direction, but I beat him to it. “Yes that’s right! I was eavesdropping!”

              He rolled his eyes and turned back to his locker.

              “And so I didn’t bring it up!” I barreled on. “I didn’t ask because I knew you didn’t want me to. But that was stupid, and everyone seems to know what’s going on but me and I have to know! What is the big damn deal, Finn? What exactly is it that you think I can’t handle? Cause I’m kind of insulted!”

He jammed his Lit binder inside so hard that it bounced right back out and hit the floor with a fluttering crash. He swooped down and snatched it back up again immediately, but the rings had come undone and papers flew everywhere.

              Finn groaned and started scooping up his various papers. I bent to help him, but stopped after picking up only a couple of pages. Some of my own handwriting caught my attention. There, in my hasty and nervous scrawl was the word, “Butterflies,” and right below it, Finn’s thirty second poem from our first day in Lit was laid out in his own neat hand.

Butterflies

Every day you look at me.

And sometimes I wonder,

Can you see

The Butterflies

That fly so free

In me? Just because

You looked at me?

“What is this?” I asked, scrunching up my nose. “You know, I never took you to be much of a sappy love-poet.”

Finn looked up from the floor. “What is what?” He got up and came to see what I was reading. He snatched it away from me. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s about Margo.”

“No, it can’t be about Margo.” Something was terribly wrong here, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. “You told me yourself after writing those poems that first day that you’d never noticed Margo.”

“Maybe I wrote it later on.” He was digging through his locker now, but he kept casting sideways glances in my direction. It was probably the first time I’d ever seen Finn, usually so calm and collected, acting furtive. Furtive for Pete’s sake! What was going on?

“No, I watched you write something under my title that day.” Then, quite suddenly and with no warning whatsoever, all of the pieces slid into place. “Oh my God.” My face drained of blood and my stomach turned over as I realized exactly what had happened between Finn and Margo. And now that I knew, it made all the sense in the world for Finn to try to keep it from me.

              He stopped digging in his locker when he saw my expression. “Emily?”

              “Oh my God.” I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. It felt like my heart had stopped in my chest.

              “Emily, it’s not what you think.” He took one little step toward me, his hands raised in a placating sort of way. His voice was very low.

              “And what is it that I think?” I asked in a panicky voice.

              “I don’t know. It just seemed like the right thing to say at the time.”

              “Well I’ll tell you what I think,” I said. “I think that the only way you couldn’t tell me the reason for splitting up with Margo is if
I
were the reason!”

              He stared me straight in the eye helplessly for several seconds. I waited for him to say something, but he never did. He looked so lost, suddenly. So unlike himself.

              “Finn?”

Please, oh please tell me I’m wrong!

              He took another step forward, and then paused again. “I– I’m–” he stuttered, but fell silent.

              Maybe a coherent question would get a better response. “How long?” I asked.

              He looked miserable. “A couple of years, now.”

              “Oh my God!” Talk about a plan backfiring.

              “Emily, please,” he begged, taking another step towards me. He was too close, now. So close that I couldn’t help but know what he was trying not to do. He reached up like he was going to stroke my face, but pulled away at the last second. His green eyes were so conflicted and I couldn’t say what I wanted at all. Everything had just happened so fast that I couldn’t think. I wanted him to back up a minute, give me some time to sort this out. All I could see were Finn’s eyes studying my own. He was watching me, waiting for some small sign. Just one little smile or inclination of the head that would serve as an invitation. As an acceptance.

              But I couldn’t force my mouth to smile, and I was completely frozen to the spot. So though I couldn’t give him the invitation he wanted, I couldn’t move away, either. He leaned in slowly, waiting for me to back up. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t back away from him. My feet were stuck to the floor and I could not tear my eyes from his.

My refusal to move served as the sign he needed and he didn’t hesitate any longer. His green eyes blazed with sudden determination. In a flash his hand was behind my neck, pulling me forward and upward and his mouth found mine. He gripped me even closer with one desperate hand around my waist. 

I could not pull away. In that moment I didn’t really
want
to pull away. This was not like that night at the party with Ethan. That kiss was tame. Cute even. And very awkward.

              With Finn, though, I lost control of my limbs. My arms wrapped themselves around his neck and I kissed him back with equal vigor. When his tongue slipped between my lips, I opened my mouth wider to accommodate him. There was an intensity there that I hadn’t expected, a sudden need that I’d never acknowledged before
, and Finn was filling me up with it.

It seemed so natural, so easy to kiss him. That scared me a little. This
should
be awkward and weird. This
should
feel wrong. Finn was my best friend for pity’s sake! Instead, all I was concerned with was how nice it felt to have his hand tangled up in my hair while he held me.

              He finally broke away after what seemed like an eternity. He bowed his head over my shoulder and my fingers
tight on his arms
. It seemed that we were both a little reluctant to let go.

Suddenly I realized we’d never really touched much. I’d never thought about it before. Maybe if we had, I’d have noticed how warm and solid he was, how comfortable. Maybe that’s why we hadn’t--because Finn had already noticed something similar about me.