The Comeback Kiss (12 page)

The front door opened and closed, followed by the sound of Izzy
’
s keys hitting the hall table. Tessa listened as her sister pa
dded through the foyer and the large open French doorway that led into the living room. Izzy got three or four steps into the living room before seeing Tessa in the dark on the sofa, at which point she screamed and clutched at her chest.

“
Jesus, Tessa!”
Iz
zy said, catching her breath. “
Lurk much?”

Tessa sighed and rested her head on the back of the sofa, staring up at the white ceiling. “
Sorry. Just sittin
’
and thinkin
’.”

Izzy grinned, flew over, and bounced onto the sofa, folding her legs under her in mida
ir before landing gracefully on the cushions.

“
You wouldn
’
t happen to be thinking about making out with your ex-boyfriend in a public street, would you?”
Izzy batted her thickly mascaraed eyelashes at Tessa. “
Come on, girl. Gimme some girl talk.”

“
I wasn
’
t
thinking about Finn,”
Tessa lied.

“
Is he cute?”
Izzy asked, taking off her black wig and going to work on releasing her long blonde tresses from the elaborate web of bobby pins. “
I
’
ll bet he
’
s cute. I remember cute. Of course, I was six when I saw him las
t.”
Tessa pulled her head up from the back of the sofa and looked at her sister.

“
Do you ever run out of energy?”

“
I don
’
t know,”
Izzy said, pulling out the last of the bobby pins and shaking her hair loose. “
What
’
s it feel like?”

“
My life.”

“
Oh, my poor d
ecrepit sister,”
Izzy said. There was a slight pause, then she said, “
Is he still in town?”

“
Who?”

Izzy rolled her eyes. “
Finn. Doof.”

“
Why?”
Tessa asked, suspicion deepening her voice.

“
No reason. I just think it
’
d be fun to see him again, see if he
’
s li
ke I remember.”

Tessa eyed her sister. “
Hasn
’
t changed a bit.”

“
Quit it with the hairy eyeball,”
Izzy said.

“
The what?”

“
I
’
m not up to anything,”
she said, with just the slightest hint of indignation. Not enough to cause a fight, just exactly the amount th
at seemed reasonable.

“
You are up to something,”
Tessa said. “
Just because I haven
’
t figured it out yet doesn
’
t make it not true.”

“
Geez,”
Izzy said, standing up. “
Paranoid much?”

Tessa sighed. “
Whatever it is, just make sure it doesn
’
t involve Principal
Hinkel
’
s parking space.”

“
You know, you
’
d think he
’
d at least appreciate the artistry of it,”
Izzy said. “
I mean, it was a total
Gaslight
reference. Classic. Most kids are spray-painting
Skool suks
on the gym walls, and the misspellings aren
’
t even intent
ional, so they don
’
t even have the irony going for them
—”

“
They
’
ll take you away, Iz,”
Tessa interrupted.

Izzy was silent for a moment, then said stiffly, “
No. They won
’
t.”

Tessa sighed. “
They did it once.”

“
I was six.”

“
I remember what it was like and, Iz
zy, I can
’
t go through that again.”

Izzy looked up, and Tessa could see the guilt on her face. She hated doing that to Izzy, hated pulling the guilt trip card, but damnit, it was pretty much the only card she had left. She sighed, sat up, and put her hand
on Izzy
’
s.

“
Iz, I know you don
’
t believe me, but that social worker in Brattleboro is just waiting for either one of us to screw up, and she will, she
’
ll take you away. I know it
’
s only one more year of high school, but...”
Tessa sat back. She didn
’
t want
to think about it. Her brain was mush as it was. “
So whatever you
’
re up to, I know I can
’
t stop you. Just please. Don
’
t get caught.”

Izzy smiled. Not too much, not too little. Just the perfect amount. “
Stop worrying. I
’
m not up to anything.”
They exchanged
looks
—
Izzy trying to convince, Tessa trying to believe.

“
Stop looking at me like you expect me to screw things up,”
Izzy said. “
It
’
s gonna be okay. Really.”

Tessa sighed. “
Can
’
t you just be the shy, demure, bookworm type that never gets in trouble? Just u
ntil you turn eighteen? Then, I promise, it
’
s straight to Mexico with us. We
’
ll drink questionable beer and get regrettable tattoos and we can both finally relax and have some fun.”

Izzy laughed. “
It
’
s a deal. I
’
ll be good. You start planning that trip.”

T
essa smiled. “
Deal.”
She watched her sister for a moment, wishing she could know what was going through her head. Izzy was a good kid, a great kid. She just didn
’
t appreciate consequences, or the power of evil social workers.

“
Well,”
Izzy said, “
I need to
shower off this Eau de French Fry. See you in the morning?”

“
Sure,”
Tessa said, and watched as her sister disappeared up the stairs. She knew she should probably do more. Lock Izzy up in her room. Let her out only for school and the occasional church socia
l. But she lacked the energy to monitor her sister day and night, and most of what Izzy did was relatively harmless, just mischievous enough to raise eyebrows in Brattleboro and get Izzy placed in foster care again. The thought alone made Tessa
’
s heart se
i
ze up in panic. Izzy might not remember those three years too clearly, but Tessa did, and a repeat performance might just send her over the edge she
’
d been so carefully straddling all these years.

But for the moment, Izzy was safely upstairs, and there wer
e bigger fish to fry. Like making sure Finn was out of town before someone started asking the right questions about the events of the night he left.

Stupid town bell.

Stupid Finn.

Finn.

Her chest filled with equal parts anger and longing at the thought of
him. She smoothed the pillow on her lap, working from the center to the edges the way her mother used to when she needed to calm down.

It didn
’
t work.

“
Grr!”
she growled, then punched the sofa pillow dead center. That felt good. She hit it again.

Even bett
er.

She tossed the pillow on the sofa, turned to her side, and beat it with both fists until her hair was in her face and a small sheen of sweat formed on her forehead.
             

And yet, when she closed her eyes, there he was again, all laughing blue eyes and hand
s that seemed to know exactly where to go.

“
Yagh!”
she grunted, pushing herself up off the sofa. There was only one way she knew of to get it all out of her head. It was late and she was tired, but she was still going to have to do it, all because stupid D
ermot Finnegan had chosen to come back into her stupid life and make everything stupid.

Big, stupid, redheaded jerk.

She grumbled all the way down the back hallway, grabbed her skates off the bench by the door, slamming the door behind her.

***

Finn
’
s fe
et were almost completely numb by the time he reached the shack. He
’
d refused Joe
’
s offer of a ride and didn
’
t rethink that choice until he was halfway there and realized the stupid dog was still following him. It would have been much easier to shake it i
f
he
’
d been riding in Joe
’
s truck.

“
You
’
re gonna have to find some other mark, dog,”
Finn said, “
because tomorrow I
’
m outta...”

He trailed off as some movement on the lake flashed in his peripheral vision. Thick clouds blocked most of the moonlight, and aft
er watching for a few moments, he realized that even if there was something out there, he wouldn
’
t be able to see it. Still, the black ice held his attention. Just about every major turning point of his young life had happened out there
—
first swim, first
k
iss, first Winter Festival where he picked his first pocket
—
and being back after being gone for so long made its pull feel stronger, somehow.

And suddenly, with a clarity so sharp it cut, he realized something.

It wasn
’
t any better. The thing, the
whatever
inside him that had gone off-kilter... it wasn
’
t any better. He wasn
’
t going to be able to sleep tonight any more than he had been able to sleep in the past year. He
’
d been sure that returning Tessa
’
s car would set him right, put him back to the guy he
’
d
always been. He was happy being that guy. No strings. No commitments. No one depending on him, or expecting anything from him. The girls were good-looking and temporary, and the jobs were just jobs. No guilt, no complications.

Good times. Until he tried to
steal a bird that ended up being more trouble than it was worth. Since then, everything had been wrong. The dreams began, and Tessa had starred in all of them. The locales varied, but the conversation never did.

You left,
she
’
d say.

There are penguins in
the park,
he
’
d reply, despite the fact that he wanted to say,
It was for your own good.

I had all my things packed,
she
’
d say.

That
’
s a spicy meatball,
he
’
d say, really meaning,
You were gonna go to college.

I waited all night for you,
she
’
d say.
Just sat
on my porch, waiting in the cold, until sunrise.

Five tomatoes for a dollar,
he
’
d say, aching to tell her he was sorry, but unable to get the words out.

She
’
d watch him and sigh, then turn away, trailing one last comment behind her.

I loved that car.

And t
hen she
’
d disappear.

Returning the car was supposed to have put an end to that crap, but standing there, staring at the lake, he knew the restlessness hadn
’
t gone anywhere. He could feel it like a stone in his gut.