“No.”
“Neither could I, but I suppose anything’s possible. Let’s see. What next? Oh! I haven’t catalogued what I had to eat!”
“Enough,” I said, setting down my fork. “Fine.”
A smile so wide formed on her mouth, I could count her teeth. She settled in her seat.
“I’m miserable, Finley.”
Her smile fell and she nodded her head in understanding. “I know, Ethan,” she said softly.
“And I don’t know what to do about it. I’m so angry. So, so angry.” I sat back in my chair and stared out her window. “I want to hunt Spencer Blackwell down and do something, something awful to him.”
“Ethan, that’s just not healthy, dude. I mean, I know anger. I’ve felt anger, but I did something about it. I felt it taking over me and I decided to let it go. I can tell it’s taking you, and you have to let it go.”
I looked back at her. “I don’t want to,” I told her truthfully.
She shook her head. “You’re just mourning her and can’t deal is all.”
“No,” I said deadly seriously, “I don’t think that’s all. I think Spencer Blackwell is the shadiest asshole I’ve ever met, and I want him to pay for how he wronged me.”
“Not any shadier than—”
“I told you,” I interrupted, “I don’t want to hear her name. Never say her name.”
“Fine. It’s crazy, but whatever.”
It got quiet and we both stopped eating.
“I hate him,” I whispered. “I hate what he’s done to my life. I had held on to her so tightly, was willing to give her my kidney along with the heart I’d already given. I never thought in a million years that she would do that to me, and I don’t think she would have, had it been anyone else. He did something to her. I don’t know what it was, but he distracted her from what was real.”
Finley sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “Jeez, Ethan.” She sighed. “What did she tell you when you broke up?”
I was surprised by this question. No one had ever asked me about the circumstances surrounding what happened that day in the woods.
My mind went back to the camping trip, to her choosing him over me, to my promise to Spencer that I would get him back when he least expected it.
“She told me nothing,” I explained. “She tried to appease me, attempted to let me down easily, but it felt like a cop-out and I wouldn’t let her do it. She chose Spencer over me by running to him when I expected her to run to me, literally and figuratively. He stole her and I want my revenge.”
“Damn it, Ethan, this is a ridiculous mentality! Life isn’t fair. Life is far, very, very far from fair. Sometimes it slaps you so hard in the face you fall back, you hit the ground with a resounding thud, knocks the breath outta you, but it’s how quickly you stand and fight for the life you want and how you forge that new path that defines you. Ethan,” she said, resting her hand on mine, “nothing is so overwhelming, so dreadful, that it cannot be defeated.”
“Even a love lost?” I asked in all sincerity, watching the window again.
“Even that love lost.”
A bird landed on the sill, its tiny head robotically searching for food that wasn’t there.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She stared at me hard, her jaw clenched. She leaned closely to me to drive her point home.
“Trust me, Ethan Moonsong, I know anger. I’ve lived anger, and I had every right to seek the revenge I so badly wanted but hear this, know this, revenge is a slippery slope. The eye for your eye never satisfies. You may achieve your goal but the reward is never as sweet as you imagined it.“
I shut her out. I was unwilling to hear her words of unburden, of relief. Only, one thing burned me with curiosity. “And what do you know of anger?”
“Enough,” she explained, avoiding eye contact.
I smiled. “It seems neither of us is willing to talk about what we really want to hear the other has to say.”
She smiled back. “It’s high school all over again.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Finley dropped me off at the bar after breakfast, and I waved goodbye as she drove away in her rickety navy blue VW Bug that reeked of oil. I watched her drive away and wondered if I would see her again before she left for Vietnam.
I found it so odd that she would choose Vietnam, not that I knew anything that even went on in Vietnam, but she was proving to be just as tight-lipped about her life as I was. It seemed we had that in common. I was curious, though, about her life, about her attitude about said life. Maybe it was because I considered her more an old friend than she thought me. Maybe it was because I was pathetic and was desperate to hold on to anything that could distract me from the chaotic crappy life that was my own.
I got in my truck and stuck the key in the ignition, ready to return home but was immediately struck frozen mid-crank when Spencer Blackwell’s truck sped past me on Main.
My heart pounded, raced with adrenaline, and my palms started to sweat. I turned the key but my truck wouldn’t start, and I began to panic.
“Come on, come on, come on,” I begged her. I tried again and again to start her but she wouldn’t turn. “Damn it!”
I paused, my hand resting on the key, and gritted my teeth. I cranked the key as hard as I could and felt the rush of relief when she turned over and the engine rumbled to life. Tearing out of the lot, I felt invigorated. I didn’t have a plan, but I knew I needed to follow him.