_*_ 31 _*_
“Me,” I said.
“You,” he confirmed.
The marching band started playing the theme from the
latest Batman movie.
“Why didn’t you just ask me?”
“I was afraid you’d say no.”
“What if I say no right now?”
“Do you want to?”
I watched the band move in and out of their formations.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“You could sit and eat while you’re thinking about it,”
he suggested.
We sat on the blanket, the cheeseburgers, fries, and
flowers a border between us, watching the little kids and
the band until halftime was over. It was marginally less
awkward when the game started again, if only because
there was so much to mock. Finally, the ref blew his whistle
and it was official. The Belmont Machinists had lost their sixth game of the season and I had no idea what would happen next. I didn’t know what I wanted to happen next. The stadium slowly emptied; the families on the hill gathered their kids and shepherded them toward the parking lot, and
soon we were the only ones left.
“Okay, here’s the tricky part,” Finn said. “The security
guard is going to walk by to see if anyone is up here partying. I’m pretty sure we’re far enough away that he won’t be
able to see us, but we should lie down for ten minutes or so,
to be safe.”
“That is the lamest attempt ever to get a girl on her
back,” I said.
“I’m serious, look.” Finn pointed to two security guards
at the far end of the football field. “I’m not going to try anything. I swear. I’ll move over here so you’re comfortable.” He scuttled about four yards away and lay on the grass.
“How’s this?” he whispered loudly.
I lay down on the blanket carefully, keeping my head
turned and my eyes open so I could watch him. “If you
touch me, I’ll cram your nose into your brain with the heel
of my hand.”
“Shh,” he said.
The lights in the stadium started to click off, one at a
time, until darkness took over the field.
“A couple minutes more,” Finn whispered, his voice reassuringly far away.
The last of the cars pulled out of the parking lot, tires
squealing. The chatter of the security guard’s radio moved along the hill below us like a stray breeze. As it faded, I sat up and watched his flashlight bob into the distance. A few minutes later, the guard reached his car and slowly drove
away, tires crunching over the gravel.
“Close your eyes.” Finn’s voice startled me. “Count to
twenty.”
“After I shove your nose into your brain, I will break
your fingers and disable your kneecaps,” I warned. “I’ll stay here,” he promised. “I’ll keep talking so you
know I haven’t moved. Five. Six. Seven. Talking, talking,
talking, okay? Eyes closed? You’re lying down? I’m still
talking and I am looking for something to talk about but it’s
tough because this is a bizarre situation. Fifteen. Sixteen.
Somehow I failed to anticipate that your response to my
well-thought-out date would be to threaten me with violence. I should have been prepared for that. The next time
I’m in a meeting with MI5—”
“Can I open my eyes yet?” I asked.
“Twenty,” he replied. “Look straight up.”
The night sky stretched on forever above me, the stars
flung like glass beads and pearls on a black velvet cloak. “Wow,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he said. “I had to pull a lot of strings to get the
weather to cooperate, but it all worked out in the end. Can
I sit on the blanket now?”
“Not yet.” I found the Big Dipper and Orion’s Belt with
no problem, but didn’t know the names of anything else.
Had there always been this many stars in the sky? “I won’t try anything,” Finn continued. “Unless you
want me to. Of course, if you wanted to try anything, I’d be
a very willing participant. Do you want to try anything?” “I haven’t decided.”
“Did I mention that the grass I’m lying on is soaked with
dew?” he asked.
“I haven’t even decided if this is officially a date.” “What would you call it?”
“An anti-date.”
“I brought you flowers.”
“I like them. It’s still an anti-date.” I paused. “But I don’t
want you to blame me if you get sick. You can come back if
you want.”
“You promise not to maim me?”
“I promise to give fair warning before I maim you.” I watched out of the corner of my eye as Finn’s shape
stood, walked over, and lay down two inches away from
me. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. He smelled of
wet grass and sweat and soap. No body spray.
“Nights like this,” he said quietly, “I could look at the
sky forever.”
I expected him to keep talking, to ramble on about the
stars or his adventures as an astronaut or the time he was
abducted by aliens (which I might have believed), but he
just lay there, staring at the corner of the Milky Way that
was smeared right above us. The layers of noise—cars on the road, distant airplanes, the farewells of crickets, the flutter of bat wings—all faded until I could hear only the sound of my heart beating in my ears, and the slow, steady
rhythm of Finn’s breath.
Somehow my hand found its way to his. Our fingers
entwined. He squeezed once and sighed.
I grinned, grateful for the dark.
We left about an hour later so that Finn could drive
me home and get back to his house before curfew. Neither one of us had much to say. We didn’t talk in the car,
either, but that was easier because he turned on the radio.
It felt like the time under the stars had delivered us to a
new country that we didn’t have the language for yet, but
I didn’t know what it felt like for him because I didn’t have
the guts to ask.
I finally spoke up just before he turned into my driveway.
“No,” I said. “Pull up by those bushes.”
“You’re having a party without me?” he asked. “An army buddy of my dad’s is here with a bunch of
guys on leave. They’re headed up to the Adirondacks tomorrow.”
I unbuckled my seat belt and opened my door the instant he shut the engine off because I didn’t know what I
wanted to happen in the front seat. Well, I kind of knew, but
I wasn’t 100 percent sure, and it seemed like the safest course
of action was to get my bike out of the backseat as soon as possible. The handlebars got caught on the coat hook above
the back door, but Finn reached in and unhooked them. “Thanks.” I leaned on the handlebars. “That was a . . . I
had a good time.”
He leaned against his car. “Can we call it a date yet?” “No.”
“Can we call it a pretty good anti-date?”
I chuckled. “Yeah.”
He tossed his keys up and down. “I would like to point
out, for the record, that my pants remained zipped and my
belt buckled for the entire evening.”
“Smart move on your part.” I hesitated, because I wanted to kiss him and I was pretty sure he wanted to kiss me,
too, but the bike was in front of me, and Finn was several
steps away and then two soldiers came around the side of
the house and started rummaging in the back of one of the
trucks.
“I better go,” I said.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked. “I mean, with all
those guys around and everything?”
“You’re the one who should be worried. You just took
out the captain’s daughter without his permission.” Dad was sitting by the bonfire in the backyard with Roy and a bunch of the others. The conversation died when I
stepped into the circle of light.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said. “Just wanted to tell
you I’m home.”
“How was the game?” Roy asked.
“We lost,” I said. “But the stars were nice.”
“Sleep tight, princess.” Dad’s face was half in shadow,
angular and old-looking. I wanted to sit on the ground next
to him and lean against his knee and have him smooth
my hair back and tell me that everything was going to be
all right, but the awful thing was, I wasn’t sure it could
be. He was sober, still drinking soda, surrounded by guys
who understood everything he’d been through, but his
good mood of the afternoon had vanished. He looked lost
again, haunted.
One of the younger soldiers got up and offered me a
chair, but I muttered a quick g’night, and hurried inside. Michael was parked in front of the television gaming
with a couple of the privates, dribbling chew-stained spit
into a paper cup. I went straight to my room without saying a word. Didn’t bother with a shower or brushing my
teeth. I locked my bedroom door, changed into my pj’s,
and crawled into bed with a book and my phone. Finn texted just as I got comfortable:
am home
you ok?
yep, I texted back.
I waited, staring at the screen. Should I say anything
else? Were we supposed to text all night long?
ttyt? he asked.
sure
I hesitated, then held my breath and typed quickly: flowers were sweet
stars spectacular
thx
He didn’t reply and he didn’t reply and he didn’t reply. I
smacked myself in the forehead. “Anti-date,” what was that
supposed to mean? He thinks I’m a nutcase now, a total crazy
cakes, I said I was going to shove his nose into his brain, who
says crap like that? and then my phone lit up again. nxt to you
i didnt notice any stars
night
I woke to the sound of chain saws rumbling in the living room: soldiers snoring loud enough to rattle the windows. I stretched, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and found my phone buried in the blankets. No new messages. I reread what Finn had sent the night before to make sure he said what I thought he said.
He did.
My stomach went squirmy. I wanted to text Gracie and ask what I was supposed to do next, but what if he didn’t mean it? What if the whole thing was a setup, you know, humiliate the new girl and scar her for life? Plus, if I told Gracie, she’d tell Topher and he liked to exaggerate, so by Monday morning the whole school would think that me and Finn had slept together and Finn would think that I had started the rumor and he’d never talk to me again.
And I’d definitely flunk math.
I read his text a third time. My stomach clenched. I had to find out the truth: Was he messing with me, was I blowing this out of proportion, or . . . or something else?
Deep voices in the hall and the slamming of the bathroom door meant that some of the soldiers were up. If I could get them to stay for the whole weekend, that would distract Dad and give me time to track down Finn and . . .
And what?
Okay, I’d figure that out later. Step One—enlist military babysitters for Captain Andrew Kincain.
The gamers I’d seen the night before had fallen asleep on the couch with the controllers still in their hands. The pause scene looped on the screen, a monster slicing off the head of a green-skinned warrior whose body crumpled to the ground spurting fountains of blood from his neck stump, over and over and over again. I hurried into the kitchen.
“Morning, princess,” Dad said.
He stood in front of the stove, watching four fry pans of sizzling bacon, his face tense. The bags under his eyes were swollen, but it didn’t look like he’d been crying. He probably hadn’t slept at all.
“Morning,” I said.
“Perfect timing!” Roy came in from the garage and headed for the coffeepot. “Help me out, Hayley,” he said, pouring himself a cup. “I’m trying to convince your old man to come with us to the mountains.”
Dad frowned and turned up the heat under the pan. “Knock it off, Roy.”
“Cabin, lake, trees,” Roy said. “Two days, one night. Time of your life.”
Two days and one night? Me with a chance to be on my own, Dad with a chance to get his head straight?
“Are you kidding?” I asked. “It sounds awesome. You have to go.”
“I’m not leaving you alone.” Dad flipped the bacon. “End of story.”
“I’ll stay at Gracie’s.”
“I said no,” Dad growled.
“Just for tonight,” Roy said. “Hell, you could go home after dinner, the drive only takes a couple hours. Bring Hayley if you want.”
Dad shook his head.
I plucked a piece of cooked bacon from the plate next to the stove. I’d seen a glimpse of the old Dad the night before, the guy who was funny and sweet, but he’d gone back into hiding and New Dad, Damaged Dad was cooking the bacon. As much as I wanted some space to think about Finn (and possibly hang out with him), getting Dad to spend more time with Roy was more important.
“I’ve never seen the Adirondacks,” I said. “Might be fun.”
“See?” Roy grinned. “Come on, Andy. You know you want to. Man up and get your sorry ass out of this place for a day.”
“I’m not going!” Dad snapped. “End of discussion!”
The smoke from the bacon curled toward the ceiling. He stared at the pan. The darkness had settled on his face again. He didn’t move when hot grease splattered on his arms.
“It’s cool, Andy,” Roy said quietly. He reached in front of Dad to shut off the burners, then he turned to me and nodded toward the door.
I was sitting on the tailgate of Dad’s pickup watching two soldiers load their duffel bags into a Jeep when Roy came outside. Cold wind gusted from the north.
“Make sure everyone’s awake,” Roy called to them. “Get all the gear packed and stowed, and make sure the house and yard are cleaned up.”
“Yes, sir,” they said, trotting toward the backyard. “When do you have to leave?” I asked.
“After breakfast. We don’t have much time to talk.” He
pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and shook one out. “Is Andy seeing a counselor or a shrink?”
I shook my head. “He won’t go. If I bring it up, he yells at me. And he drinks a lot. Too much.”
Roy swore and lit the cigarette, his hand cupping the thin flame to protect it from the wind.
I brushed the hair out of my face. “Are you afraid of overpasses?”
He blew the smoke to one side, away from me. “Come again?”
“Bridge overpasses. Do you turn around if you see one so you don’t have to drive underneath it?”
“No.” He studied the burning end of the cigarette. “But I’m guessing Andy does. Why?”
“Snipers,” I said. “First it was overpasses, then toll booths. He’ll take huge detours around Dumpsters or trash cans ’cause they could be hiding an IED. He knows that’s stupid, but knowing doesn’t stop the panic attacks. Sometimes, he won’t leave the house for days.”
“What about a job?” Roy asked.
“When we first got here he worked for an insurance company, then the post office hired him. That didn’t last long. A couple weeks ago, the cable company fired him, too.”
“What’s the problem?”
“His temper. He blows up about stupid things and then he has a hard time calming down.”
“Does he get any disability money?”
“A little.”
“This was your grandmother’s house, right? Is it paid for?”
In a flash, I saw myself
. . . standing on a chair at the kitchen table, helping Gramma put packs of gum in a brown box. We fill it up with gum and cigarettes and books and a picture of the sky filled with birds that I drew with my crayons. Gramma tapes it up and we take it to the post office and mail it to Daddy. . . .
I dug my nails into the palms of my hands until the memory disappeared. “I think so.”
Dad’s voice boomed across the backyard, but with the wind, I couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Roy took another drag of the cigarette. “What’s the story with this Michael dude?”
“They went to school together. He’s the only friend Dad has around here. I think he’s a dealer.”
“Shit,” Roy said.
“Why is he getting worse?” I asked. “It doesn’t make sense. He’s been back for years.”
“The blood is still flowing.”
“No, it’s not,” I said. “Everything’s healed up, even his leg. Has been for a long time.”
“How old are you now?”
“Eighteen,” I said. “Well, I will be. In April.”
“His soul is still bleeding. That’s a lot harder to fix than a busted-up leg or traumatic brain injury.”
“But it can be fixed, right? People can get better.”
“Not always,” he said. “I probably should sugarcoat it a little, but you’re old enough for the truth. Andy needs to take charge of this. He needs to get help.”
I hopped off the tailgate. “Make him go with you. Talk to him. He’ll listen to you.”
“That’s the hardest part.” Roy frowned. “If he doesn’t want to go, there’s nothing I can do.”
“So stay here with him,” I said. “I’ll go to my friend’s house.”
“I wish I could, Hayley, but I made a commitment to the guys.”
“Just for one night?” I hated whining, but couldn’t help it. “Please?”
“I’m sorry.” Roy stubbed out his cigarette on the bumper and carefully put what was left of it back in the pack. “I’ll talk to some people when I get back to base, make sure that someone from the VA checks in with him. This shouldn’t be on your shoulders.”
He looked like he was going to say more, but we were interrupted by a skinny, acne-scarred soldier. “Everyone’s awake, sir, and cleaning up.”
“Make sure they put out the fire completely,” Roy said.
“Captain Kincain just built it up again, sir. He told me to leave it alone. And, ah . . .” he hesitated.
“What is it?”
“Sir, Captain Kincain wants us leave ASAP. He was pretty loud about it.”