Page 26 of One Mistake

Finn answered before I could. “You think it’s smart since he just confessed his undying love for Avery?”

“Oh, my God, Finn. He didn’t confess undying love. He confessed to a crush.” That was right. You tell him, Felicity.

“He said he lost the girl of his dreams.”

God love Felicity. She knew me. Heard me. “He didn’t say Avery was the girl of his dreams. He just said he lost her. He meant Reese.”

Hell yeah, I did. “Yeah! You don’t know everything, Finn.”

“Shut up, back there. Before I forget you’re a drunk and I give you the ass-kicking you deserve.”

“Ah, the payback beating.” I didn’t remember everything that happened that day, but I remembered enough. Back then, Finn was a running back who’d never learned to take a hit because I protected his ass. I blocked. I kept him safe so he could rush for the most yards in a single season record. “Take your shot.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Jesus, you guys. We’re grown-ups now.” Felicity huffed and puffed as Finn and I continued to taunt each other.

“I just want to know one thing.” Finn shifted to glance at me in the rearview. “Why did you kick my ass?”

“You uploaded the videos.” Like he didn’t know. Like it didn’t make sense.

He shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

I gripped both front seats by their inner edges and pulled myself forward. Needed to see his face when he lied. So later, when I could stand straight, I could make sense of it. “Yes, you did.” Ha. Ha. I needed to argue so he would lie to me again.

He half twisted to look at me then turned back to the road then swiveled his head again. “No, I fucking didn’t.” He shook his head and slammed the butt of his palm against the steering wheel. “I let your dad into your fucking room to drop off cash, you little trust fund bitch. I never went in there.” He shook his head. “I knew you thought that. But it wasn’t me.”

“Well, it wasn’t me. Keaton was at practice, Jameson was getting a scan of his knee.” I could remember that day so clearly. I was with Reese at a fall carnival. We’d gotten our pictures taken—sans timestamp that could’ve saved my ass—on hay bales with piping hot cider and a man dressed as a scarecrow dressed as Santa. “You were homesick. Remember?”

“Look, I let your dad into your room. Then Beth Cooper came by. I went for a steam. You know to sweat out whatever I had going on. Came back, your dad was leaving.”

Beth Cooper. Dad. Well, now all the holes had a cover. Or whatever the saying said that meant I understood.

He pulled the car over. Swerved like the steering went out and he was fighting for control, when in actuality, he was likely just being pissy. When he turned to face me, the car rolled forward because he had stopped, but not put the car in park. He corrected then glared at me. “You kicked my ass for nothing.”

It wasn’t for nothing. But I couldn’t tell him that without letting a very dangerous cat out of a very thin bag. “Sorry about that.” Drunk me could be gracious. Apologetic even. But drunk or sober, no way could I be honest. Not until I had all the proof. Facts.

“Sorry?” He scoffed and shook his head. “He’s sorry.”

“Did you want me to kiss it better?” The old Finn would’ve laughed, shoved me, maybe even slammed on the brakes to pitch me forward. I held my breath, waiting to see how much of my old friend was left in there.

It took a second, but he laughed. “You’re an idiot.”

Not a headline. “So I hear.” And didn’t I know it? I had too many important things going on without having to deal with a hangover. Too many things to do to fix this shit show without having to stop every ten minutes for Gatorade and Advil.

“If it wasn’t me and it wasn’t you, and it wasn’t Jameson or Keaton, then who?” He was skeptical. I didn’t blame him. We’d reached the I-know-but-can’t-tell portion of our evening and I went into defensive mode.

“I’m still not sure it wasn’t you.”

He shot me a glare in the rear-view. “I’m a doctor now and I don’t do a lot of fist fighting, but I’m pretty sure I can take your drunk ass, so I’d think very hard about what you say next.” I nodded at him. Nothing he said would surprise me now. “What if it was Beth? She went up to your room. Maybe she knew about the video you made of you guys together.”

Possible, but less likely and only half as true as what I believed—but couldn’t speak about—actually happened. “Did anybody besides Beth and my dad show up?”

He cocked an eyebrow I could see in the mirror. “Not before I went to steam. I don’t know about after.”

The alcohol and all the information in my brain went to war. I couldn’t sort it properly enough to make a conclusion. I couldn’t even see in single vision with both eyes open. I squeezed the left one shut and wished it was so easy to make my brain work right.

There had to be a way to figure it out, but until I slept off the effects of spending an afternoon drinking after so many afternoons of abstinence, no way was I going to be able to do more than throw up on the back of Finn’s seat. Which I did. Then passed out.