“Don’t be like that. I just mean that between the two of us, maybe we can find something to do this weekend. What do you think?”
My only thought at the moment is that I probably haven’t seen the last of Finn. And I really want to know how he knows where I live. It really should creep me out more, but it doesn’t. Finn feels sort of … comfortable. Like a friend. Like Ben. Okay, maybe not like Ben. I’m not obsessing over Ben’s eyes on a minute-by-minute basis. I’m sort of freaked out by how not-entirely-creepy this is, which really makes it kind of creepy. If that makes sense.
“I guess so,” I finally answer Ben. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
I make it home without any sign of Finn, but that doesn’t keep my head from swiveling left and right as I walk. I reach the front door and laugh at myself for getting so worked up. Obviously, he got the hint.
I barely make it through the door when Danny asks if I’ll play soccer with him out back. Ever since Ben started coming over, Danny’s had a bro-crush on him. He’s trying to learn how to play, and I need something to do besides sitting around worrying about crazy guys stepping out of my dreams, so I agree.
And of course, right on cue, Finn shows up. Our back lawn is unfenced, and he must’ve seen us from the sidewalk. He’s standing there watching, and this time I’m not scared—I’m starting to get really annoyed instead.
I tuck the soccer ball under my arm and walk over to him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “This is private property.”
He seems annoyed, too. “Don’t act like you don’t know me, Jessa.”
“I don’t know you. I just met you!”
“I’m not trying to make you uneasy,” he says calmly. “I’m here for a very good reason, and if you’ll just hear me out—”
“I can’t talk right now,” I say, gesturing back at Danny. “I’m playing soccer with my brother.”
“Hi!” Finn says, raising his hand to wave at Danny.
“Hi!” Danny waves back.
“Stay away from him,” I warn.
“I’m only saying hello. I thought he might be worried, since you seem like you’re arguing with me.”
“I am arguing with you. I want you to leave, and you won’t go.”
“Jessa…” He lowers his voice, and there’s a sense of urgency in it. “I was sent here to warn you.”
I look at him like he’s nuts. Because he is. “Warn me?”
“You’re in danger,” he says. “And I want you to—”
I’m shaking my head as he’s talking because I don’t want to hear this. And I definitely don’t want Danny to hear this.
“You need to leave.” My voice is firm, but he keeps going.
“Please—Jessa. I’m not joking. You have to believe me.”
“The only one who’s causing me any problems here is you,” I say. “Now leave.”
“Jessa?”
Danny is walking over now. Great.
“Leave,” I repeat.
Finn shakes his head. “You have to listen to me.”
“Just go!” I’ve had it. I hit him with the soccer ball right in the chest, and hard. It ricochets off and rolls behind me.
“Bad manners, Jessa,” Danny says, scooping up the ball. He tosses it to me, and I’m so flustered, it drops. Finn and I go for it at the same time, and we straighten up together. He’s looking down at me and both our hands are on the ball, and for a moment, I feel such déjà vu my head swims with it.
“How do I know you, Finn? Really?”
“I can explain everything,” he says softly. “Just give me a chance.”
Danny trots up next to me. “You need to say sorry,” he chides.
I roll my eyes, mostly because Finn is looking at me in a very smug way that makes me itch to hit him with the soccer ball again.
“Yes, Danny. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You hit him with the ball,” Danny reminds me.
“Yes, I did.”
“Yes, you did,” says Finn, clearly enjoying my brother pointing out my transgressions.
“You’re in trouble, Jessa,” Danny adds. “You’re in trouble, Jessa Emeline St. Clair.”
I groan audibly.
“Emeline?” Finn is smirking now.
“That’s her trouble name,” Danny supplies. “Jessa Emeline St. Clair.”
Finn raises his eyebrows, so I explain. “Whenever my mom used to get really mad at us when we were kids, she’d use all three of our names. The dreaded ‘triple name.’ You had to really be in trouble if she used it.”
“Emeline.” He’s nodding to himself, as if he thinks it suits me somehow, which irks me to no end.
“So what’s your middle name?” I ask him. “Irving? Hubert? Darth?”
He shakes his head. “I’m just Finn. Nothing else.”
“No middle name?”
“No middle name.”
“Finn is his trouble name?” Danny asks.
I clutch the soccer ball, scowling in a threatening manner at Finn’s smug face.
“Yes, Danny. Finn means trouble.”
I grab Danny’s arm and promise him popcorn to get him into the house. I don’t look back at Finn. I spend the next hour trying to forget his words and the way he looked down at me, and how incredibly long his lashes were.
Danny is right. Finn means trouble.
5
Autumn Memory
“You sleeping over, St. Clair?”
“What?” I look up from my journal to see Ben standing over me.