Someone clears their throat behind me. I jump, turning to find Finn lingering near the closed door.
“Oh.”Finn’s gaze falls, tracing all the way up my form. Heat prickles my skin.
“I should change, shouldn’t I?” I say.
Finn shakes his head. His eyes are a little wide, and I think he might be blushing.
“No, you should not—”He stops, swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing.“You look beautiful.”
Now it’s my turn to blush. I wrap my arms around my torso.
“You’re going out?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not a complete recluse.”
Finn pulls his bottom lip into his teeth and inhales, as if getting ready to rebuke me.
“Not a word,” I say, jabbing a finger at him.
He cracks a wan smile, lifting his hands in surrender.
He crosses to the bed, dropping onto the edge of it, then leans back on his palms.“Where are you going?”
And that’s when it hits me. Nora’s party. Nora’s birthday.
Finn’s birthday.
I am the biggest asshole on the planet.
There’s no playbook for a situation like this.
“To Nora’s,” I say.
“Big birthday blowout?” he asks. There’s an edge to his voice. It tugs at the loss living right under my skin.
I clear my throat. “Yeah,” I say. I nudge my closet door shut and make my way to the bed beside him. I lean over to knock my shoulder against his, remembering too late.
“Good.”Finn stares down at his sneakers. The same sneakers he’s worn since he died.
A lump pushes up my throat, settling on the back of my tongue. Tears prick the backs of my eyes. I try to blink them away to no avail.
“No crying on birthdays.”Finn reaches up, thumb ghosting, literally, beneath my eye. The tear trails down my cheek, unwavering.
I can’t help the laugh that slips past my lips. “Pretty sure that’s baseball.”
“Birthdays make more sense.”
I laugh again and wipe my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he says.“I wasn’t trying to make you sad. You’re supposed to have fun tonight.”
“You should be celebrating, too,” I say.
Finn smiles, but it’s a hollow smile. He folds his arms across his chest, and I can’t help seeing it as some kind of barrier. I just don’t know if it’s to keep me out or keep something in.
He glances back at the clock.“You should get going. Don’t want to be late to my party.”
I grumble a bit, pushing to my feet. I jam my phone into my pocket and grab a coat.
