Chapter 60

Friday December 20th

Finn

Ty: You and Ace watching the game?

Me: It’s not looking good. Ace is on the verge of a stroke.

Ty: Ha. You should see his dad.

That message is followed up by a photo of Ace’s dad, Thatch. He’s sitting in front of his giant television—the Dickson-Buffalo Big East Championship game on the screen—and a stress vein is prominent on his big head.

Both Ace and I were invited to watch the game at his parents’ apartment—they had a bunch of people over, including my brother Ty, but Ace decided he’d rather watch at a diner that’s not far from our dorm. Normally, he’s a man of the crowd, but I guess there’s too much riding on this game that he needed to watch it with as few people as possible.

I suspect the bastard put actual money on it.

Zip’s Diner is practically empty, everyone else choosing hipper places like bars or frat parties than a mom-and-pop spot to enjoy the game. When I look over at Ace, it’s almost disturbing how much he and his dad look alike, protruding forehead veins and all.

“Son of a bitch,” Ace groans and slams his hand down on the table when Blake gets sacked for the second time in a row. “What is our O line doing?”

We’re down by a touchdown, already on our fourth down, and there’re only fifteen seconds left in the game. The way I see it, there’s no way they’re going to be able to pull this one out. Boden would have to manage one hell of a Hail Mary pass to tie it up.

My phone vibrates several times in my pocket, and I pull it out to find a bunch of texts from my siblings.

Willow: Come to the lake house for Christmas, Finn?

Travis: Yeah, man, you gotta come here for Christmas. Mom’s planning on making a whole fucking feast!

Jack: It’s going to be the first non-shitty Christmas we’ve ever had. LOL.

Willow: There are actual PRESENTS under the tree!

For the first time in my entire life, my mom is happy, and my siblings are actually looking forward to the holidays.

And I’m relieved to know that our father won’t show up and ruin it all.

Somehow, Ty has someone who has been keeping tabs on Jeff Hayes’s every move. I don’t know who and I don’t know how he managed to make this arrangement, but whoever it is has confirmed that Jeff Hayes is currently staying in a shady motel just outside the city.

He took the train when he came to the Dickson Campus Police station, and he hasn’t gone back home since. Hasn’t even tried to come back to campus looking for me either. It’s strange, to say the least. It’s almost like he knows his shit is cooked.

With him MIA and my mom and siblings safe at the lake house, it feels like things are finally looking up for us. And I have Ty to thank for that. Which, considering how I started this year, is quite the turn of events.

My hate has been replaced by like, and it’s even feeling as if I’m starting to develop an actual relationship with him. We’ve been in constant contact ever since that fateful day when our father showed up at the police station, and I actually look forward to hearing from him.

“Well, shit,” Ace mutters, and I look back at the television to find Buffalo’s student section rushing the field in celebration.

I give him a supportive pat on the back. “Maybe next year, man.”

“Maybe?” he repeats, and his eyes turn wild. “There’s no maybe, Finn. We’re winning the Big East Championship next year and going all the way to the National Championship after that.”

I hold up both hands in defense, my lips curling in a smile. “Okay, man. We’re winning next year. No need to lose your cool.”

He flips me the middle finger before excusing himself to take a piss. I stare mindlessly at the television until the camera turns toward the Dickson University cheerleaders, and Scottie’s face is right there on the screen. Mindless turns to eagle-eyed focus in an instant.

I’ve sent her countless messages over the last week, including but not limited to:

Thinking about you, Scottie.

I hope you’re okay.

I’m still here if you need me.

She hasn’t responded, but that wasn’t the point of sending them anyway. I’m content to be there for her any way I can while she works through a hell I know all too well.

One of the commentators mentions that she’s the cheerleader Duke’s quarterback gave the football to, and they proceed to dive into a conversation about how, back in their day, the cheerleaders never looked like her.

It’s completely sexist and pathetic, and on any normal day, I’d probably be pissed off. But today, all I can see is her eyes. They’re sad and distant, all the joy and charisma I fell in love with robbed by that fuckface Dane and his sidekick Nadine.

She plasters on a smile for the camera, but I know her well enough to know that she’s crumbling on the inside. If I’m honest with myself, it’s a look I’ve been responsible for putting on her face before.

The truth is a rusty knife, and it stabs me straight in the chest.

I wish I could take back so many things when it comes to Scottie. So many horrible words I’ve tossed her way. But I can’t. All I can do is continue to support her from a distance.

Anything I can do to make her life easier, I do it. Leaving snacks on her door for when she gets back from cheerleading practice. Asking Julia to stop by her dorm and check on her. Asking Kayla to keep an eye on her at practice.

I won’t stop until the joy is back in her eyes, even if I’ll never be back in her heart.