I'd Rather Not Be Dead (11 page)

“Finn-”

“Don't,” he snaps.

“Don't what? Don't heal your
frigging injuries?”

His eyes narrow. “Don't touch
me.”

“What?”

“I don't want you to touch me,”
he growls.

“Fine!” I give him a disgusted
look. “It's not like I want to touch you anyway, you conceited
asshole.”

I stomp down the stairs and pass
through the attic door. Apparently it's not as old as the rest of
the house.

For some reason, I expect Finn
to come after me. But he doesn't. At least not before I fling open
the front door, slam it shut again, and storm up the street.

Chapter Eleven

I stop a block up, may eyes
widening. I opened the door. And shut it again. Apparently, I don't
need to concentrate on doing these things if I'm angry. Cooper
Finnegan's lucky I didn't bust any of his windows.

I'm glad I didn't hurt the
ferrets though.

More sedate, I walk toward
downtown, though I don't get far before lethargy presses itself
down on my body. My feet drag and I have to give up well before I
get anywhere. I creep into a stranger's house and collapse on the
couch.

I need to stop doing this. I
need a home. I'm too tired to cry or I would.

I fall asleep and the next thing
I know, my sister is sitting on me, talking to a friend of hers.
Great, of all the houses in Pine Ridge I had to pick one belonging
to a cheerleader.

One of the interchangeable
blondes nods sympathetically. “Boys are idiots.”

“Amen and hallelujah.” I move so
Bobbi's not in the middle of my stomach. She's trembling but I'm
not sure it's from my chill. Her eyes are rimmed with red. Her
cheeks are mottled and puffy. Her hair's sloppily tied into a loose
ponytail. She doesn't have a hint of makeup on. And I'm pretty sure
she's wearing one of her sleep shirts, sans bra. What could shake
her up enough to make her leave the house like this?

“He wouldn't even talk to me,”
she whispers. “Said he didn't want anything to do with any of my
family.”

“Freak sister strikes again,
huh?”

Bobbi's eyes narrow at the
blonde, a lethal look I haven't seen since Rain decided all the
Barbies in the house, even Bobbi's, needed makeovers and dyed their
hair purple. Her friend holds up her hands in surrender. “Sorry.
You're the only one who can call her that.”

“Darn skippy.” Bobbi takes a
shaky breath while I stare at her. That came close to defending
me.

“Still...” the friend
trails.

“Yeah.” Shaking her head, Bobbi
draws her knees up to her chest, hugging them. “Drew did
something.”

“Won't admit what?” the friend
hazards.

“Of course not.” Bobbi gives a
little smile, one I'd describe as fond if I didn't know any better.
“Claimed she'd never do anything to come between me and Finn
because we deserve each other.”

Her friend brightens. “Well, you
do.”

Bobbi gives her a funny look.
“She didn't mean it in a good way.”

The blonde seems confused.
Probably happens a lot. “Oh?”

“I shouldn't have gone over
there.” Bobbi lays her cheek on her knee. “I just wanted to cheer
him up. I thought he wasn't at the party because he was depressed
about the game. I didn't think he was just trying to avoid me.”

New tears slide from her eyes.
The trails from the last ones haven't had time to vanish yet.

“Don't cry over him,” I tell her
gently. “He's not worth it.”

“He wasn't trying to avoid you,”
Bobbi's friend says, leaning over to place a hand on Bobbi's shoe.
The sneaker's perfectly white, immaculate, but the precisely
threaded laces are tied in messy loops that are on the verge of
completely unraveling. Just like Bobbi. “He was upset about the
game and lashed out, that's all.”

The sniffle of response is
possibly the ugliest sound my middle sister has ever made.

“Come on.” The friend stands up.
“We'll go to Smokies. Nothing like a double chocolate malt and a
cheeseburger to sooth an aching heart.”

Bobbi tries to laugh. “I look
like crap.”

“No, sweetie. You look tragic.
Guys go for tragic.”

I snort. Although, truthfully,
on Bobbi tragic probably does work. Boys will flock to her, trying
to soothe her hurts and protect her fragile emotions.

“Can I borrow some eyeliner?”
Bobbi asks. Which kind of cheers me up because her heart can't be
too broken if she's worried about eyeliner.

Folding my arms, I look out the
cheerleader's window while I wait for her and Bobbi to come back
downstairs. Cooper Finnegan made my baby sister cry. And I'm upset
about it? Shouldn't I be cheering him on? I'm getting sentimental
in my death.

When Bobbi gets back, she's
wearing more than borrowed eyeliner. Drowning under foundation and
blush and eyeshadow, she looks almost clownish. She looked better
before, red eyes and all, but she'd never believe me.

I follow the girls to Smokies,
the local hangout. It's not the only place in town for burgers, we
also have a McDonald's and a Burger King, but it's the only place
for video games and pool. The place is too crowded for morning, so
I must have slept all the way to lunch. Bobbi spies some of her
other friends and rushes over to direct the conversation toward her
tragic status. If she has to be depressed, she's going to milk it
for all it's worth.

I'm about to leave when I
realize Bobbi isn't the only McKinney here. The other me's in a
corner. With Cris. Did he cancel on the other girl or has he just
not left yet? I slide into the booth next to him to try to find
out.

“I see your sister hasn't died
of heartbreak,” Cris says, jerking his chin toward Bobbi's table.
He's clearly been briefed on some of what happened last night.

TOM looks over her shoulder and
makes a disgusted sound. “Why mope alone at home when you can have
an audience?” She takes a bite out of a massive bacon cheeseburger
while I eye the sandwich with longing. Not getting hungry, I don't
think of food too much. But when I do, I miss it.

“Is she really upset?” Cris
frowns across the room.

TOM shrugs. “Who knows?” she
mumbles with her mouth full.

“And why do you care?” I mutter,
knowing the answer and hating it.

Cris doesn't say anything as he
runs a fry ever so slowly through a pool of ketchup, his gaze still
on Bobbi. I wave my hand over his eyes, even though it's pointless.
“Snap out of it, you dumb hick.”

The other me curses. “And speak
of the frigging devil. I swear he's stalking me. Doesn't want
anything to do with my family, my ass.”

Cooper Finnegan stands at the
entrance, looking right at us. His stance is tense, his eyes
pinched. He looks pissed. An answering anger swells inside of me.
Turning sharply, he slams out the doors.

With long, aggressive strides I
go after him, catching up by his truck, a large but aging blue Ford
with a toolbox in back and Blue Ridge State mud flaps over the
wheels. He's waiting for me, his arms folded and his face filled
with fury. “I was worried about you, Drew.”

“I'm fine.” I stop few feet shy
of him and echo his pose.

“I can see that.”

“My sister, on the other
hand...” My hands bunch into fists. “You stood Bobbi up and then
yelled at her when she was worried about you?”

“Stood her-” He cuts off when he
realizes he's yelling and lowers his voice to a hiss. “I did not
stand her up.”

“Didn't you? So you did go to
that party last night?”

“No, I was too busy looking for
you.”

I stare. He was looking for me?
“I fell asleep.”

“Convenient.”

Convenient? Not a word I'd use.
Passing out all the bloody time is the opposite of convenient. But
I'm not going to be distracted by that. “You were mad at me, so you
decided to hurt Bobbi?”

He glares at me for several
moments, then sighs. “I didn't mean to hurt Bobbi.”

“Well, you did.”

“Well, I'm sorry!”

My eyes squeeze shut and I count
to ten.

“It's not like I had a date with
her,” Finn says calmly. “I didn't stand her up.”

“You're talking semantics, Finn.
I woke up this morning on her friend's couch listening to my baby
sister sobbing. Because of you.” I open my eyes to see him leaning
against his truck, watching me, his expression softer than
before.

“I didn't mean to hurt her,” he
repeats.

I nod, believing him. He just
wasn't thinking. Bobbi's friend was right, boys are idiots.

“What do you want me to do?” he
asks.

I look back at him. The green in
his eyes stands out more than usual, almost drowning the browns and
golds. Is he one of those people whose eyes change with their
moods? What mood is this? “Apologize for yelling at her? She didn't
deserve that.”

His gaze drops to the
asphalt.

“She didn't.” Though when he
still doesn't answer, I start to wonder, “Did she?”

Pushing off the truck, he starts
back inside the restaurant.

“Finn?” He doesn't stop, but he
does glance back toward me. “Am I missing something?” I ask, pretty
sure I am.

“No. I'm a sadistic ass with no
explanations for anything I do.” That's the sort of statement I
should agree with, but my gut twists. Finn sighs, his shoulders
falling limp. “I'm going to apologize for yelling at Bobbi.”

“Okay...” I follow him in, a few
steps back. “I'll just give you some space...”

Although why I'm giving him
space when her friends crowd closer to Bobbi when they notice his
approach, I don't know. I drift over to the other me, who notices
Finn approaching the pity party. And notices the glance he gives me
just before he gets to Bobbi. And completely misinterprets it,
thinking he's looking at her and Cris.

Next to Cris, I watch my
one-time nemesis shuffle before my sister. He says something that
makes her rise from her seat and prance over to a less populated
section. He looks at me again, his expression guarded.

“I swear, he's been like this
all week!” The other me sends a sneer of disgust Finn's way.

“And you haven't done anything
to deserve it?”

TOM snorts. “Like what? Send him
love letters? No, I haven't.”

“You want me to do something
about it?” Cris subjects another fry to his pool of ketchup while
keeping his eyes across the room.

“Like what?” I ask, alarmed. I
reach to grab Cris's arm, forgetting for a second that I can't. My
fingers pass through his flesh and I'm the one who shivers.

TOM slumps a little. “All he's
doing is looking at me.”

“Can't hold that against him.”
Cris gives her a long leer.

I don't laugh with TOM.

Finn meets my eyes across the
room, looking at me over Bobbi's head as she talks. Something in
his expression makes me shiver again. Finn's gaze moves down to my
sister and my breath catches when his hand goes to her chin,
tipping her head up.

I'm completely certain he's
going to kiss her, but he doesn't. He just talks to her while I
stare at them. Then, after an eternity, he lets go of her face and
walks around her. He gives her a wide, charming, smile that fades
the second he's past her.

Sporting a goofy grin, Bobbi
bounces back to her friends, who shriek at whatever she tells
them.

Finn's eyes focus on me before
he turns for the door. He's far enough away that I can't be
certain, but I think they've gone almost entirely brown.

I run after him. He's not
waiting for me this time, but unlocking his truck door as I rush
up. “What was that?”

“I was nice to your sister.” He
opens the door.

“Were you?” Somehow, I really
don't think he was.

He raises his eyebrows as he
climbs into the truck. “She seemed to think so.”

I glower. “Stringing her along
isn't a kindness.”

For a few seconds, he just looks
at me. Then he grins in a way that's neither kind nor nice. “Who
says I'm stringing her along?”

The door slams and Finn has the
truck started and in reverse, hard rock screaming from its stereo
before I gather my senses.

“You're a bastard, Cooper
Finnegan!”

His tires squeal as he rips out
of the parking lot.

Boiling with furry, I curse my
way back inside. What the hell is wrong with that guy?

My sister's beside herself with
happiness when I walk over to her table.

“He is so totally in love with
you!” one the blondes gushes.

No, he isn't. Not even remotely
close.

One of the others puts an arm
around Bobbi. “I knew he was only mean to you because he was
stressed. I bet he was just upset you saw him lose and all.”

I roll my eyes. On one hand, if
Bobbi's actually believing this, then maybe she deserves to get
burned. Maybe it'll teach something about trusting charismatic
people with gorgeous smiles, intriguing eyes, and perfect bodies.
If something seems too good to be true, it is.

But... She's my sister. I don't
want to see her do this. Why can't she fixate on one of the
multitude of boys in our school who'd die for just one date with
her? Why does she have to be set on the popular boy with the huge
ego and multiple personalities?

I can't stand listening anymore,
so I go back to the other version of myself. But I don't want to
listen to her either, don't want to look at her vapid adoration of
someone who's betraying her. He doesn't care about her even half as
much as she cares about him, that's obvious. If he did his
attention wouldn't keep wandering back to Bobbi, would it? And if
he wants a cheerleader that bad... What would he want with a
pseudo-punk semi-goth chick like Drew McKinney? No, he's only with
her because she'll put out for him and the cheerleader won't.
Simple as that. I don't know why she doesn't see it. Why I never
saw it.

Maybe Bobbi and I have certain
traits in common.