Going Under

“Have you ever heard of anything like this?” I asked.

“No, but then again, I don’t immerse myself in the kinky sex culture that you apparently do,” he sneered.

“Screw you. It was a question.”

“Go away, Brooklyn. I have work to do.”

“Yeah, whatever. Thanks for your help.”

On my way out, I waved goodbye to Terry, who asked why I wasn’t going to hang around after work and drink with him. I headed for the parking lot.

It was instant irritation—seeing Finn. I thought he’d gone home, but apparently he was waiting for me. What if I had to work the entire evening? Was he planning to hang around my car for hours?

I walked over to him. “Finn—”

He cut me off with a kiss. My instinct was to draw back and slap him. But I didn’t. And I didn’t feel any of the things I should have felt: outrage, shock, shame. Instead, I let him kiss me, standing there like a statue, trying to remain emotionally disconnected from it. That didn’t last long, and that’s when I should have pulled away.

I pressed my lips to him harder, and he took it as a silent invitation to open my mouth with his tongue. It was all so familiar, sensual and frightening. I didn’t like how Finn could make my body respond to him so easily, that I could lose all resolve to be a better person with his kiss. I felt his arms snake around my waist, drawing me closer to him, and I slumped against him, letting him hold me while his mouth continued to explore mine. Familiar sparks traveled the nerves up and down my legs. They popped occasionally in various places along my thighs, under my feet, and I was afraid I’d lose the strength to stand.

Get off, get off! I screamed inside. And then Beth’s face flashed inside my brain, and my resolve resurfaced, fighting my sexual desire. Thank God the resolve won.

I pushed Finn away. “We can’t,” I breathed.

“Brooke—”

“We’re horrible people!” I cried.

“What are you talking about?” Finn asked.

Was he really so stupid or just completely delusional?

“We treated Beth like shit, Finn! We sneaked around! We lied to her!”

“You’re right,” Finn replied. “I should have broken up with her before we got together.”

“Why didn’t you?” I asked. I had never asked him before.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “She started getting really depressed. I don’t know why, but it seemed wrong to break up with her when she was like that.”

I knew precisely what he was talking about, and I knew precisely why Beth was so sad. The heaviest part of my guilt lay in the fact that Beth revealed her rape to me, trusted me with the information, trusted me with her vulnerability, and I continued to sleep with Finn behind her back.

“But it wasn’t fair to you to keep dating her,” Finn continued.

I looked up sharply. Fair to me? He had a lot of nerve. I recognized my guilt, welcomed it, deserved to feel like shit, and he wasn’t going to take that away from me.

“What I did was wrong. I hurt my best friend. No guy is worth that,” I said.

I watched Finn tense. I didn’t mean to be so insulting, but I knew no other way to get through to him.

“So you walk away from me because of Beth?” he asked. “She’s dead, Brooke.”

“What are you saying? That we might as well get together because Beth’s not here to see it? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Look, I’m not waiting around forever, Brooke,” Finn said.

“I don’t expect you to.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you felt nothing when I just kissed you?”

“Sure, I felt something. I felt horny. That’s it,” I snapped. “I don’t love you, Finn. I cannot be with you. It’s wrong on so many levels.”

“You’ll continue to fight your attraction to me because of some dead girl?!”

It was automatic. I swung my hand with all my might, making contact with the side of Finn’s head. It was a sloppy hit, somewhere between a slap and a punch, but it was effective. He grunted and rubbed his temple.

“What the fuck?!”

“You’re a heartless piece of shit!” I screamed. “She’s not some ‘dead girl’! She was my best friend!”

He stood silently for a moment, rubbing his head.

“I feel sorry for you, Brooke,” he said. “You’ll ruin your life because you can’t get past your guilt.”

“Ha! And I suppose by ruining my life you mean living without you?” I asked. “Don’t worry, Finn. I have no plans to let you ruin my life.”

“You’ll be sorry, Brooke.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“We’re through. That’s what it means,” he replied, and started for his car parked a few spaces away.

“Hallelujah,” I mumbled, watching him drive away.

***

“I have the perfect guy for you,” I said in a singsong voice.

“Oh jeez,” Beth replied. “Brooke, it’s time you face the truth. You’re not the best matchmaker.”

“Okay, Kevin was all wrong, I admit,” I said.

“And Jason,” Beth said.

I shrugged.

“And Andrew and Ian.”

“Oh my God. Okay already!”

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