Backwards (23 page)

Read Backwards Online

Authors: Todd Mitchell

BOOK: Backwards
4.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Wait here,” Trent said after I pulled over. “This might take a few.”

He got out, leaving Finn and me alone in the car. Finn leaned back and propped a foot on the dashboard, nodding to the music.

“So, you really like Cat?” he asked after a minute.

I traced his profile, from his straight brown hair to his boyish features and strong jaw. He stared ahead at the road, nervously tapping his fingers to the music. The confidence that usually surrounded him seemed eggshell-thin.

“Why do you want to know?”

Finn shrugged, as if the question didn’t matter. “You can have your pick of girls, and you’re interested in her. Makes me wonder why.”

I took a deep breath. “She’s different,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like other girls are roses or daisies or daffodils. They’re pretty but ordinary,” I told him. “Cat’s something else entirely. She’s an orchid growing in a swamp. You could spend your whole life never knowing the orchid’s there. But once you see her, nothing ever looks the same.”

I thought Finn might make fun of my poetic explanation, but he didn’t. If he hadn’t noticed Cat before, he would now. “She sounds pretty incredible.”

“She is. More than you know.”

“You must really be into her,” he added.

“Yeah. Well, I never said she liked me back.” Dan rebelled, but I blocked him out. “In fact, I think she might like someone else.” I looked at Finn. “I just want her to be happy, you know? Even if it means I don’t get to be with her.”

Finn’s brow creased, as if he couldn’t comprehend how I could say this. “You really mean that?”

I nodded. It wasn’t for Finn that I did it. It was for Cat. All her life she’d wanted to be accepted. Maybe this was a way I could give her that.

“I’ve never heard you talk like this about a girl before,” said Finn.

“I’ve never felt like this about a girl before.”

Trent came out, acting giddy and secretive. “Mission accomplished,” he announced.

Finn and Trent joked on the way home, but I didn’t say anything more. I didn’t need to — the seeds had been planted. By the time I dropped them off, the sky had darkened and kids in costumes were going door-to-door, trick-or-treating. I locked myself in Dan’s room and turned his music up to drown out the sound of the doorbell ringing.

Mission accomplished,
I thought. I’d invited Cat to the party. I’d set it up so Finn would be interested in her. I’d paved the way for their storybook romance — the one Cat deserved to have. All that remained was to keep Dan from going to the party and wrecking everything.

WTF R U?

I stared at the text from Trent. Then I checked the wall for the thirteenth time.
Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go,
I whispered, turning the words into a mantra.

My control felt solid, but I wasn’t about to take any chances. Dan might have stayed distant most of the day because I’d followed his desires. He wanted to drive Finn to school, and I’d done that. He wanted to ask Cat to the party, and I’d asked her. But staying home from the party was something I knew he’d fight me on.

Got caught sneaking out,
I replied.

I read the message several times, only I couldn’t think of any clever abbreviations for what I wanted to say. Hopefully the text would be enough to convince Trent to leave me alone. Getting caught seemed almost respectable. Never mind that it wasn’t remotely true. Dan’s mom had practically begged me to go out. “It’s Halloween,” she’d said, giving me a skeleton shirt she’d bought on her way home from work. “You used to love Halloween.”

After sending the text, I paced Dan’s room. I’d already unplugged his clocks to keep them from triggering Dan. Nevertheless, from the darkness outside, I figured it had to be after eight. If it were up to Dan, he would have been at the party by now. Cat might have even given up on him already. I wondered if she felt upset or relieved that he wasn’t there. Finn might see her wandering alone and go comfort her —

I shook my head, scattering images of the party. Too late. Dan was already surging against me. All it would take was losing focus for an instant, and he’d find a gap and force me back. I had to be vigilant.

The doorbell rang. I froze and listened to make sure it wasn’t someone Dan knew. Several trick-or-treaters had come earlier, but from the sound of it, these were a few late-night stragglers. Dan’s mom commented on what clever ninjas and pirates they were as she passed out candy. Then the door closed and things grew quiet again. My hands shook. I needed to do something, but there was nothing to do in Dan’s room, and the longer I remained cooped up, the more restless he’d get.

I pulled on the skeleton shirt Dan’s mom had bought him and shuffled to the living room. Teagan huddled at one end of the couch, watching a horror movie. Their mom sat at the other end, wearing a witch’s hat and black gown. She cradled an orange plastic pumpkin in her lap, ready to spring into action if any more ninjas arrived.

“These contacts suck,” said Teagan, rubbing her eyes. “I can’t even see the TV.”

“Good thing you have an eye appointment tomorrow,” replied her mom.

Teagan scowled and kept fiddling with her contacts. She was always squinting and blinking and rubbing her eyes. Her comment gave me an idea.

I ducked into the garage before anyone saw me. If I filled up Dan’s car now, then I wouldn’t run out of gas tomorrow and Teagan wouldn’t miss her eye appointment. Driving seemed out of the question, since it would bring Dan dangerously close to the party. But if I took the spare gas can, I could walk to the station on Main Street and fill it up. That seemed harmless enough, and it would keep me busy for an hour or more.

I checked the shelf for the red gas can that I’d used the other day. The second shelf closest to the door — that’s exactly where it had been. Or where it would be.

After a few minutes of searching, I spotted a red can by the lawn mower. It looked the same as the one I’d carried to the station, but when I picked it up, some liquid sloshed around. Strange. The can I’d used the other day had been empty. I unscrewed the cap and tilted the can.

Clear, slick fluid rushed out, coming faster than I’d anticipated. It splashed the lawn mower and stained the floor. Instantly, the garage filled with the heady reek of gasoline.

My thoughts skipped back to Cat’s secret house. This same smell had been there the night of the fire. I hadn’t recognized it then. The smell of candles and spray paint had covered it up, but now that I smelled the gas, I realized there was no mistaking it. When Dan had fallen near the couch, the thin fumes had made him dizzy. Parts of the couch must have been drenched in gasoline — that would explain why it burst into flames so easily. But who would pour gas on the couch?

Poor man’s paint thinner,
I thought, remembering the milk jug of gas Cat had brought to clean her brushes. She was the only one in the house before Finn arrived.

Why would Cat soak the couch in gasoline? She knew Finn was coming. She’d invited him. She’d even urged him to sit on the couch. I remembered her standing in front of him, holding a candle.
Tell me what I meant to you,
she said before Dan barged in.

Did she want the couch to burn? Was she trying to scare Finn? Or worse?

Stop lying!
she told him.

My head spun. What if Dan hadn’t raped Cat after all? What if it was someone else? Like Finn?

All at once, things I thought I knew began to shift. The subtle way Finn controlled everyone. His confidence and charm. What he’d said to Dan about not making a big deal out of things.

Cat’s expression as she watched Finn flirt with Kendra in biology class came back to me. It wasn’t jealousy sharpening her gaze. It was anger, because Finn always got away with things. And if Cat stayed silent, he’d keep getting away with things and hurt others like he’d hurt her. But what could she do? Who would believe her if she accused Finn?

That’s
why she invited him to the house. She tricked him into coming so she could get him to admit what he’d done. So she could finally stop him.

You ruined it,
she’d told Dan the night of the fire.

And if he hadn’t arrived, how far would she have taken things? How badly did Finn hurt her?

“Oh, God,” I whispered, suddenly realizing what I’d done.

I checked Dan’s cell phone. Ten till nine. Because of me, Cat might have been at Finn’s house for nearly an hour by now. I rushed back to Dan’s room to get his keys.

The words carved into the wall sent a chill down my spine. If I went to the party, things might turn out exactly as they had before. The only way to be certain of changing tracks was to stay here. But how could I if Cat was in trouble? It was my fault she’d gone to the party, and it would be my fault if Finn raped her.

I grabbed the keys and headed out.

The scent of gasoline in the garage made me want to vomit. Dan sensed my panic, but I was too focused on saving Cat to worry about him. I gripped the steering wheel and raced to Finn’s house, driving through two stop signs and a red light. When I got there, I didn’t bother to knock. Music blared and smoke curled around me as I barged through the front door.

“Shut the damn door,” someone growled.

Several guys I didn’t recognize were hunched over in the front room, passing a pipe. I pushed my way through the crowd and searched for Cat.

“Danny boy!” Dave clasped my arm, slurring his words. “You made it, dude. You got five dollars?”

“Where’s Finn?”

“He’s here. But you got to pay me five dollars first.”

“I need to find someone.”

“You still got to pay.”

“I’ll pay Finn later,” I said.

Dave backed off, catching the anger in my voice.

The crowd appeared thickest near the kitchen. I cut through the press of bodies, ignoring people’s grumbles and rude remarks. For once, Dan’s height came in handy. I scanned the faces of people milling around the kegs in the kitchen, but I didn’t see Cat. Or Finn.

I continued on to the living room. Orange Halloween lights dangled from the ceiling, and a strobe flashed while dance music shook the floor. My pulse raced, spurring Dan into a frenzy. I spotted Trent on the sofa drinking a beer.

“Look who escaped,” he said. “About time you arrived.”

“Have you seen Cat?”

“Who?”

I shouted my question again, thinking the music had drowned out my words.

Trent’s gaze slipped over my shoulder.

“The girl we were talking about this morning,” I said. “Is she here?”

“Dude, forget about her. She’s not all that.”

“Did you see her?”

“You get my text?” he answered.

“I’m not messing around, Trent.”

“Then you should have been here when I texted you.” Trent focused on someone beyond me. I turned to see who he was looking at. A few people danced in the center of the room. One of them was the guy Trent would kiss next week.

When I looked back, Trent gulped his beer.

“Tell me where she is, or I’ll tell everyone you like him,” I said.

Trent’s face paled. He seemed about to deny it, but something in my expression must have convinced him otherwise. “I don’t know, man,” he said. “Maybe she went home. She looked pretty trashed.”

“You saw her? When?”

“A half hour ago.”

“Who was she with?”

He fiddled with his beer.

I grabbed Trent’s collar. “Who was she with?”

“Finn,” he said. “He took her upstairs. That’s why I sent you the text. I was trying to warn you, jackass.”

I bolted upstairs, too angry to think.

A few people cluttered the hallway, waiting for the bathroom. I edged past them and threw open the first door I came to. It led to a large bedroom with an empty canopy bed. The next room was locked. I tried the door at the end of the hall. The only light came from a computer screen, glowing blue. I flipped a switch and the bedside lamp blinked on.

Covers rustled as someone turned away from the light. Stepping closer, I made out Cat’s jagged hair and smooth jaw. Her eyes were shut and the bedspread had tangled around her neck and limbs in an awkward way. It looked like she’d tried to pull the blankets around her, but she was on them instead of beneath them, so she couldn’t keep herself covered.

Other books

Breaking the Silence by Casey Watson
Fire on the Mountain by Edward Abbey
Two Weeks in August by Nat Burns
Peeping Tom by Shelley Munro
Highest Duty by Chesley B. Sullenberger
The Shadow of Your Smile by Susan May Warren
Mr. Monk Gets Even by Lee Goldberg
A Murder of Magpies by Sarah Bromley