Very Bad Things (Briarcrest Academy #1)(79)

A muscle ticked in Leo’s jaw as he ran his eyes over Drew, lingering on the bedding. His shoulders slumped, and he swiveled his head back to peer at me, a desolate expression in his eyes.

“Leo, tell me what you wanted to say,” I whispered.

A Dallas police car also skidded to a stop in front of the gym. I stood there, lifeless, while Leo shook his head and gently set me out of his arms. He walked across the street to meet the officers.

“Wait,” I said.

He didn’t turn around. Whatever he’d been about to say, he’d changed his mind.

***

The police searched for Finn that night. They told me I had to come downtown to fill out paperwork, but I refused. I needed time to decide if I was going to tell everything that had happened to me. The police in Houston were contacted, and they reported that Finn had lost the lease to his condo a few weeks earlier. He’d also been fired from the law firm where he worked. No one had seen or heard from him since he’d showed up at the shop. I assumed the police had contacted my parents. My dad had tried to call me a few times, but I wasn’t ready to talk yet.

I wasn’t ready to sleep at the shop, so I stayed with Aunt Portia at her apartment in Dallas even though it took me an hour to drive through rush hour to get to BA.

I continued with life. What else could I do?

Three days after Finn had shown up, a pale Aunt Portia greeted me as I walked in the shop after school.

“I need to talk to you,” she said to me, steering me past the late lunch customers and into the kitchen.

“Come here and sit,” she said, attempting a small smile, but it wasn’t her usual perky one. She sat down and I sat stiffly across from her. She took both my hands in hers, and it was then that I knew, oh yes, I truly knew something had happened. A cold sweat broke out over me, and my mouth dried.

“Your brother . . .,” she began, but stopped.

“Tell me.”

She sighed. “There’s no easy way to say this, but there was a pile-up on Interstate 10 near Houston. Your brother . . . Finn’s car . . . crashed into an eighteen wheeler. It caught fire...”

“He’s dead?”

She nodded and mumbled something about policemen and dental records and my parents, but it didn’t make sense. Her voice kept swelling and expanding, and I couldn’t understand anything she said. Needing to be grounded, I lay my head down on the cold table, letting the hard surface support me. I heard her saying my name over and over until, blessedly, I heard nothing at all.

***

In the days that followed Finn’s death, I moved in a numb daze, and it reminded me of the sad girl I used to be. I had obligations, so I called my parents. Dad made plans to meet me for breakfast before the funeral. Mother refused to speak to me. I was good with that. I did happen to catch her Good Morning, Dallas show the next day. She appeared on camera in a soft-blue suit, teary eyed, yet as beautiful as ever as she announced the death of her son. That’s her, always milking it, looking for an angle to help her climb to the top of the network’s ladder.

Dad came to Aunt Portia’s before the funeral, and we went back to the kitchen to eat. We sat on the counter, eating hot cinnamon buns and drinking coffee, our legs dangling as we talked. When we were done, he surprised me by opening his briefcase and giving me the papers to sign that would put my prize money in my name.

“I’m proud of you for having the balls to leave,” he told me, his eyes watery. “I know there’s a rift between us, but I do love you.”

I studied his sad face. “Did you ever say anything to Mother about what I told you?”

He nodded. “She denies it all.”

“And you still believe me?”

He paled. “God, of course, Nora.”

I nodded. “Did you confront Finn?”

His lips tightened. “I told the motherf*cker if he came near you again, I’d stab him myself.” He shrugged. “He’s dead now. We need to move on.”

I bit my lip, scared to hope. Maybe there was a chance for me and him after all.

***

His funeral shocked me, I guess because death always takes us by surprise, especially when it’s a young person. We think we’re invincible, but we’re not. One way or another, we’re all placed six feet under. It made me even more determined to live the rest of my life as a happy person.

Was I glad that Finn was gone? Yes. We’re taught that forgiveness is good for your soul, so some will say I’m going to hell for my unwillingness, but neither Finn nor Mother would ever get absolution from me.

I’m no Mother Teresa.

Drew, Sebastian, Mila, and Leo all came to the funeral, but Leo was the person I gazed at. As I drank him in, I thought about how easily life can be snuffed out, never to be lived again. I thought about how Leo had lost his parents in the blink of an eye. And it sounded so cliché, but life is precious, and we only get one shot at it. So when the minister started talking about living life to its fullest, I realized I hadn’t. I’d been living day to day, always stuck looking at the past, just trying to survive.

I didn’t want to coast by anymore.

I wanted some f*cking happiness.

As I sat in that cathedral, it dawned on me, an extraordinary moment when I realized that being happy could be a choice, not some elusive state of euphoria that few ever achieve. I didn’t want to spend a lifetime waiting for happiness to find me. It was never going to come knocking on my door, inviting me to come out and play.