Bobbi gets back, she's
wearing more than borrowed eyeliner. Drowning under foundation and
blush and eyeshadow, she looks almost clownish. She looked better
before, red eyes and all, but she'd never believe me.
I follow the girls to Smokies,
the local hangout. It's not the only place in town for burgers, we
also have a McDonald's and a Burger King, but it's the only place
for video games and pool. The place is too crowded for morning, so
I must have slept all the way to lunch. Bobbi spies some of her
other friends and rushes over to direct the conversation toward her
tragic status. If she has to be depressed, she's going to milk it
for all it's worth.
I'm about to leave when I
realize Bobbi isn't the only McKinney here. The other me's in a
corner. With Cris. Did he cancel on the other girl or has he just
not left yet? I slide into the booth next to him to try to find
out.
“I see your sister hasn't died
of heartbreak,” Cris says, jerking his chin toward Bobbi's table.
He's clearly been briefed on some of what happened last night.
TOM looks over her shoulder and
makes a disgusted sound. “Why mope alone at home when you can have
an audience?” She takes a bite out of a massive bacon cheeseburger
while I eye the sandwich with longing. Not getting hungry, I don't
think of food too much. But when I do, I miss it.
“Is she really upset?” Cris
frowns across the room.
TOM shrugs. “Who knows?” she
mumbles with her mouth full.
“And why do you care?” I mutter,
knowing the answer and hating it.
Cris doesn't say anything as he
runs a fry ever so slowly through a pool of ketchup, his gaze still
on Bobbi. I wave my hand over his eyes, even though it's pointless.
“Snap out of it, you dumb hick.”
The other me curses. “And speak
of the frigging devil. I swear he's stalking me. Doesn't want
anything to do with my family, my ass.”
Cooper Finnegan stands at the
entrance, looking right at us. His stance is tense, his eyes
pinched. He looks pissed. An answering anger swells inside of me.
Turning sharply, he slams out the doors.
With long, aggressive strides I
go after him, catching up by his truck, a large but aging blue Ford
with a toolbox in back and Blue Ridge State mud flaps over the
wheels. He's waiting for me, his arms folded and his face filled
with fury. “I was worried about you, Drew.”
“I'm fine.” I stop few feet shy
of him and echo his pose.
“I can see that.”
“My sister, on the other
hand...” My hands bunch into fists. “You stood Bobbi up and then
yelled at her when she was worried about you?”
“Stood her-” He cuts off when he
realizes he's yelling and lowers his voice to a hiss. “I did not
stand her up.”
“Didn't you? So you did go to
that party last night?”
“No, I was too busy looking for
you.”
I stare. He was looking for me?
“I fell asleep.”
“Convenient.”
Convenient? Not a word I'd use.
Passing out all the bloody time is the opposite of convenient. But
I'm not going to be distracted by that. “You were mad at me, so you
decided to hurt Bobbi?”
He glares at me for several
moments, then sighs. “I didn't mean to hurt Bobbi.”
“Well, you did.”
“Well, I'm sorry!”
My eyes squeeze shut and I count
to ten.
“It's not like I had a date with
her,” Finn says calmly. “I didn't stand her up.”
“You're talking semantics, Finn.
I woke up this morning on her friend's couch listening to my baby
sister sobbing. Because of you.” I open my eyes to see him leaning
against his truck, watching me, his expression softer than
before.
“I didn't mean to hurt her,” he
repeats.
I nod, believing him. He just
wasn't thinking. Bobbi's friend was right, boys are idiots.
“What do you want me to do?” he
asks.
I look back at him. The green in
his eyes stands out more than usual, almost drowning the browns and
golds. Is he one of those people whose eyes change with their
moods? What mood is this? “Apologize for yelling at her? She didn't
deserve
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