I looked at her and the expression on her face told me she wouldn’t quit, so I roughly took it from her and took a large bite. She bit into her own piece, a smug look on her face. She practically hand fed me every piece in the damn basket, but I didn’t care. I knew what she was doing, but it wouldn’t work because the liquor resting in my belly was too substantial to be worked against.
“What have you done with your summer?” she asked me.
“This,” I said, gesturing to my glass.
“What the hell, Ethan?”
“What, are you my mother?” I asked, immediately regretting those choice of words. I closed my eyes.
Mom. My heart dropped into my throat. Must remedy that.
“Vi,” I said loudly to her at the other end of the bar. “One more.”
Vi walked the length of the bar and filled my glass again, much to Finley’s obvious horror.
“Vi, can I get some mozzarella sticks?” she asked.
“Of course, darlin’.”
Finley smiled at me.
“I’m not eating those,” I told her.
“Oh, you’ll eat them.”
“I won’t.”
“You will.”
“I sure as hell will not, Finley Dyer.”
She leaned closer and my head began to swim. Her signature scent of apples and wild daisies swarmed around me, making my heart race. It’d never bothered me before. It’s the liquor, I told myself.
“You will or I’m taking your ass home right now.”
“You can just kiss that ass, Fin.”
“That’s the Jack talking.”
“No, that’s me. I don’t want to play anymore. I want to be left alone now.”
“You see,” she said, settling her elbows on the bar top, “I think— No, I know you’re lying. Like I said before, you’re a terrible liar. I think you’ve lied so often about wanting to be left alone, though, that you’ve convinced your head it’s the truth, but you can’t convince the heart, Ethan. You know why? Because the heart can’t ever be lied to, and yours beats the loneliest I’ve ever heard.”
I didn’t answer her. Couldn’t answer her.
“What have you done this summer?” I asked, ignoring her spot-on observation.
She played along. “I’ve had a temp job here in Kalispell answering phones for Smith Travel, trying to earn cash for my trip.”
My brows furrowed. “What trip?”
“I’m heading over to Vietnam for a year.”
This shocked me. “What in the world would you go to Vietnam for?”
“Charity work,” she answered, making me laugh.
“Why?” I asked.
“Don’t be an asshole,” she replied.
“No, really, why?”
“I’ve wanted to do this for close to five years now.”
“How come I don’t ever remember you talking about this at school?”
“Ethan,” she said softly, “let’s not pretend we ever really talked in high school deeper than filler conversation.”
This wounded me a little, though I’m not sure why. “What the hell, Finley? You and I were friends.”
Now it was her turn to laugh. “We were most definitely not friends. I may know everything about you and you may know everything about me because we grew up together, but we were not friends. You had a constant bodyguard in Cricket.”
I sat up at the mention of her name. “Don’t ever say her name again,” I gritted.
She raised her hands in concession. “Fine.”
There was a pregnant pause as she let me calm myself down.
“I talked to you a lot in the classes we had,” I offered.
“We talked a lot about the upcoming football games or class assignments. Once or twice, we took the seventy-year-old route and discussed the weather.”
I fought my grin. “Okay, so it was always surface observation, but we were kids.”
“No, Ethan, that’s not what it was.”
“Well, you were in love with me,” I bravely spit. “I couldn’t take it further than just below the shoal.” Thank you, Mr. Daniels.
“Full of yourself, are we?” she asked. “Listen,” she continued, “I had a crush on you in high school. So what? Lots of girls did. But I was, am, a human being. You didn’t have to treat me like some leper. Trust me, Ethan, we all know who you belonged to,” she said.
She stood to leave, but I grabbed her arm. The heated warmth of her skin shot straight to my heart. We looked at one another, wide eyed, our chests panting. I shook my head to recompose myself. “I’m sorry,” I told her, encouraging her to sit back down. “I’m— I know you deserved better.”
She hesitated but sat back in her seat. I stared at her, a little too intently thanks to the Jack. She nodded once and we sat in a comfortable silence as I had five more shots.
The whiskey made my body heavy as hell, the weight of its honeyed venom deadened the ache inside me.
I sighed and smiled to myself.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
I looked up at her though it felt unusually burdensome and leaned toward her. “I’m going to get them back,” I admitted to her.
She narrowed her eyes. “Who, Ethan?”
“Them,” I said, bringing a tired finger to my lips. “Don’t tell anyone.”