Kiss Me Hard Before You Go (8 page)

Chapter 8

“Ow!” He touched his hand, rubbing it with his other. Pain filled his face. Evie bent down to inspect his sore hand and helped him up off of the ground.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Just a little shock that’s all.” He tried to smile, but Evie could see him tugging on his hand, grimacing as he did so.

“Don’t worry about putting the battery in,” she said and stood back up. “I’ll get Mike to do it.”

Finch pushed the door open from the inside of The Diner and without saying anything, he passed by them and opened the truck door. He turned the ignition off, and tossed the keys to Evie, who caught them.

“You have to turn the ignition to off before you change a battery,” he said in a condescending tone. He closed the door and mumbled something to himself. Evie swore she heard the words “novice” and “duh.” He peered over the engine, disconnected the negative battery terminal and then found the positive terminal. “Wrench,” he barked, making no eye contact with any of them.

“You could say please, you know,” she said and slapped it on his hand.

“I could, but I won’t,” he said. Evie was speechless.

He pulled the old battery out and placed it down on the ground. He picked up the new battery, and attached it as quickly as he had disconnected the other one. He turned to face Evie, a look of annoyance filled both of their faces but for different reasons.

“Start her up,” he ordered.

She was fuming. Her face was distorted, and if it were physically possible, she’d breathe fire at that very moment. She stomped to the driver’s side and yanked the door open, plopping down onto the seat. She turned the ignition and the truck started.

Finch slammed the hood down and wiped his hands against his jeans. He bent over to pick up the old battery and moved to the passenger door. He opened it, placed the battery down on the floor, and then closed the door.

“Next time you want to play mechanic, read a manual first. Rule number one: make sure the keys are out of the ignition,” he said to Mouse.

“I was just trying to help,” Mouse said.

“I know,” he softened. “Stick to what you know and you won’t get hurt.”

“You get more with honey than you do by being a piss-ant, Finch,” Doris said to him.

He ignored her quip and scanned the area, and then said, “Don’t think Stoney’s coming to get us.”

Mouse checked his watch and nodded in agreement. “We better be getting back.”

“Stoney would forget to put his underwear on the right way if he didn’t write the words front and back on them,” Doris said with a laugh. “Hey, Honey Lamb, you think you could give us a lift?” she asked Evie.

“Sure. No problem,” Evie said.

“We can catch a ride with someone else,” Finch argued.

“You’re being a fool,” Doris said to him.

Doris, Mouse, and Friedrich headed to the back of the truck and pulled the truck bed door down.

“What are you doing?” Finch said.

“You can ride in the front with Evie,” Doris said with a mischievous grin. “You spend so much time staring at her, you might as well sit up-close so you can get a better look.”

“Forget it,” he replied emphatically.

She waved her finger at him like a pendulum. “You’re just being silly,” she said.

“I’ll sit back here, and one of you can ride up front with her,” he said. Even he could hear the childishness in his statement. Last time he thought a girl had the “cooties” he was seven years old. She was Julie Howell, and she’d chase him all over the carnival. When she’d finally catch up to him, she’d kiss him and tell him he was beautiful. Finch would wipe his lips and moan how gross it was that she kissed him, but within a year, Julie and her family made another carnival their home, and he missed her attention. He missed her giggle as she ran to catch him. He would slow down for her this time, just so he could hear her tell him he was beautiful. In her eyes, he was something more, something even better.

“There’s no room,” Friedrich said and straightened his legs out. Doris stretched out her arms, taking up even more room. “See,” he said. “No more room.”

Finch threw his hands up in the air and stormed off to the passenger door. He stood there for a minute, watching Evie chew on her fingernails and staring into space. He opened the door and sat down. His legs straddled the battery.

She looked at him and rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t ride in the back?” She started up the truck and began driving down Main Street.

“Nope,” he said. He scanned the inside of the truck. The green dashboard was cracked, and the seats were stained with dirt, grease, and years of farming.

“You don’t believe in rear view mirrors up here?” he said, noticing the empty space where a mirror should have been.

“It fell off, and anyways, I’ve managed to drive without it this long.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s safe. Last time I checked, you actually need to see what’s in back of you when you drive,” he said.

“I’m a good driver.”

“I’m sure you are,” he said, mocking her. He touched the oscillating fan. “I’ve never seen a fan in a truck before.” He turned on the switch, and the fan rotated from one side of the truck to the other, moving air in whichever direction it was pointed. “Kind of a waste, don’t you think?”

“How’s that?” she asked in a miffed tone.

“It’s just blowing hot air. Is this what you farmers call air conditioning?”

“No, it’s not what we call air conditioning,” she corrected him. “My dad installed it to help cool off the truck during the summer.”

“Still kind of a waste,” he said. He placed his hand in front of it. “It’s hot air.”

“You would know since that seems to be the only thing coming from your mouth.”

He smiled and chuckled.

She didn’t understand why she couldn’t make him angry. He’d just look at her, and she wanted to kick him. She knew the perfect place for her foot to land, too.

She let out a long-winded sigh and focused everything she had in her on the road ahead. Finch rolled his window down and let the wind run through his hair. A hint of Pert Shampoo filled the car, and Evie had to acknowledge that for a guy who spent his nights in tents and lived in the elements, Finch had a pleasant scent about him.

He leaned forward and fiddled with the volume to the radio. Music filled the truck.

“Don’t mess with that,” she snapped and shooed his hand away.

“Sorry. I thought some tunes would lighten up this tomb.” He moved his hand away from the knob and set it in his lap.

They rode in silence for several minutes as she drove toward her home, and the music from the radio was the only sound heard. Evie looked out of the corner of her eye and caught Finch studying her.

She felt self-conscious, feeling the weight of his gaze on her. “What are you looking at?” she asked. Irritation filled her to the core.

“You shouldn’t do that.” He gestured with his head to the tip of the fingernail she had in her mouth.

She quit chewing on it. Her nails were down to the quick, blood crept underneath most of them.

“Why do you care?” she hissed, hating herself for asking him that question but she was dying to know.

“I don’t. It’s just...” he said, searching for the right word, “gross.”

That wasn’t what she was expecting him to say. “Well, so is smoking,” she replied, feeling triumphant for being quick with her cut down.

“It is,” he agreed. “Good thing I don’t do it,” he said with a smirk.

Evie’s confidence quickly faltered.

“You gnaw on your nails like that on a date, and no guy will ever kiss that mouth of yours.” He sat back against the seat and folded his arms behind his head.

She gasped and then gritted her teeth. Her hands gripped onto the steering wheel. “You’re just, just...” she couldn’t find the right words. She was too incensed. “Rude! You’re rude,” she said with more certainty. “The rudest person I’ve ever met!”

He laughed, which made her even angrier. “I’ve been called worse. Much worse. I’ll take being called rude by you as a compliment,” he said, making sure that he exaggerated his smirk, knowing how much it irked her.

She slammed on her brakes. Doris, Friedrich and Mouse crashed against the back of the cab and hollered, and Finch flew forward, his palms were pressed on the dash board.

“What the?” he said, pushing himself back against the truck seat.

“You alright, hon?” Doris shouted from outside.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Evie said in a cool tone. She turned to face Finch, glaring at him, and said, “Out!”

“You’re kidding, right?” he scoffed.

She motioned to the door. “You can walk back to the farm.”

He mumbled under his breath. “Just like I thought. A real princess.”

“What’s going on in there?” Doris shouted.

“Nothing. Your friend has decided he wants to walk the rest of the way,” she said and stared at him, waiting for him to open the door.

He shook his head in disbelief and opened the door, closing it gently behind him. He stood in front of the rolled down window and said with a sardonic grin, “Try not to gnaw those nails off.”

Finch gripped onto the rail of the truck bed and swung himself up and over and into the back. Evie pressed her foot against the gas and sped off thinking she had the satisfaction of leaving Finch standing on the side of the road sucking on her exhaust. He squeezed himself in between Doris, Mouse and Friedrich.

“What’d you say to her?” Doris said in an accusing tone.

He shrugged. “She’s overly sensitive,” he said.

“I’m sure you were a real prince charming,” Doris said. “If your mama was here...”

“She’s not, so drop it,” he snapped, and Doris read him loud and clear.

“She seems like a nice girl,” Friedrich added, failing to notice or care about Finch’s temperament. “You are spending a lot of energy being cruel to her.”

Finch pointed to himself in disbelief. “I’m being mean?”

They all three nodded, and Finch tilted his head up toward the clear blue sky. The clouds even looked different in this part of the country than they did in Gibsonton. He took a whiff, smelling the cow manure and fresh cut grass, and knew he was almost to the farm. He could get there blindfolded just by the scent alone.

“You go on ignoring us, but you know we’re right,” Doris said.

Evie reached the split in the drive leading to her house and left the truck running, waiting for them all to get out.

“Thanks, hon,” Doris shouted as she, Friedrich, and Mouse exited the truck. Finch jumped out and walked over to Evie.

He leaned into her window, and his elbows rested on the top of the truck door. “Thanks for the ride.” He smiled, and Evie’s mouth was agape.

“You are a butt hole!” she yelled and pressed her foot onto the accelerator.

Finch let out a boisterous laugh. He watched as her tires spun in the loose gravel, kicking up a cloud of dust as the truck sped away.

Chapter 9

She wanted to turn the truck around and run him over and over again until she flattened him like a pancake and got rid of that annoying smirk of his. She had no idea where her urge of violence stemmed from, but he could make her madder than a wet hen. She was still fuming when she pulled up to the front of her house. She grabbed her crumpled paper bag and got out, looking up at their house and seeing all of the things that needed to be repaired. It needed to be painted, and the columns on the front porch were rotting from the bottom up. The list was getting longer and longer. She could feel the weight of it all laying on her shoulders.

She pushed the front door open and heard her dad clanking around in the kitchen. He was as loud as a raccoon sifting through garbage cans, and when she entered the kitchen, his eyes widened and a look of guilt filled his round face.

There, in front of him, was the apple pie Evie had made the night before. He was eating from the pan with his hands, liquid apple oozed from the corners of his mouth.

“Daddy,” she moaned. “You’re supposed to have one slice.”

“You can’t just have one,” he said, food still in his mouth. Chunks of apple fell onto his faded maroon t-shirt, and he scooped those off with his fingers and stuck them into his mouth.

She took the pie away from him.

“Where’r you going with that?” he asked.

“I’ll make you a sandwich. You can’t eat pie for lunch,” she said with frustration. Sometimes she felt like she was the parent, and he was her child. She took ham out of the refrigerator and placed it between two slices of bread.

“It’s what I wanted,” he said, almost sounding like a whining child. He got up and took the pie out of the refrigerator and sat it in front of him, scooping a heap of a piece with his fork and placing it into his mouth.

She sighed and finished making the sandwich.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked with a full mouth, but Evie learned long ago how to read him.

“At Henson’s. I got stuck in the parade, and then the battery died.” She sat across from him and bit into the sandwich that she had made for him. He gave her a smug look when she did so, but she wasn’t biting. Dealing with Finch had worn her out. She wasn’t in the mood to argue with anyone else. She didn’t even know if that’s what she was doing with him – arguing. It felt like more than that – exciting and frustrating at the same time. A part of her wanted it. She shook that thought away, wondering where the absurdity of wanting someone to drive her crazy came from.

“Did someone jump it for you?”

“No. I had to buy a new one,” she said.

“How much is that gonna cost us?”

“You owe Mike fifteen dollars,” she said.

“Lawd have mercy, if ain’t one thing, it’s another.”

She opened up the brown paper bag and took out the small bag that had the bottle of pills in it. She unstapled the bag and took out the bottle. “I picked up your prescription.” She pushed the bottle his way and watched as he ignored her and continued eating. “Henson said he’s been trying to get in touch with you to pick it up.”

He took a swig of his sweet tea, washing down the pie.

“He said it’s pretty potent medication,” she continued.