Than to Have Never Loved at All

Hollowed Out

Clinton dropped me off at home with a kiss two hours later. I felt hollowed out.

As soon as he pulled away my eyes darted down the road to Finn's house. The lights were on all over, but there was no sign of a car in his driveway.

I dropped onto our front stoop unsure of what to do. I pulled out my phone, but my stomach twisted into knots at the thought of calling Finn back now. I abandoned him. I tossed my phone back and forth. Back and forth. I could go inside, and borrow my parent's car and drive out and surprise him, but I didn't actually know which hospital they were at since Townsend had a pediatric unit but St. Mary's was closer.

Cold air whipped at my shoulders while I stared down the dark road. It was harder than I thought it would be. With Finn and Nat there was always another person to pick up the pieces. There was always someone else to call. I hovered my finger over the messenger app that I usually used to call Nat. There were five unanswered texts, a few unanswered calls.

I sent Nat another message to add to the stack.

"Had a fun date tonight. I'm winning." I thought the jovial tone might be good enough bait for her to return my message. I wanted something from her. I didn't know what. Maybe she knew I had abandoned Finn. Maybe she would be mad at me too.

I waited like that for twenty minutes before the door creaked open.

My Dad, still in his work clothes, looked down at me.

"I just got a call from Mrs. Tucker," he said. "Reid's totally fine. They're waiting on discharge papers then they're coming home."

A small piece of me relaxed. I knew Reid would be okay, or I really really hoped and assumed he would be, but it was nice to have it confirmed.

"Maybe you can come wait inside where it's warm?" my dad asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. I kind of felt like I deserved to be cold and shivering. My insides were cold and shivering. I was a god damned ice queen.

"I'll grab you a blanket then."

My dad came back five minutes later with a warm blanket and two cups of hot chocolate.

"Kind of surprised you weren't at the hospital with him, kiddo. You two always get in trouble together. Claire said he was babysitting when it happened."

I choked on my first sip of hot chocolate. My eyes watered as I stared holes into the ground. The few times Finn's brother Penn couldn't keep an eye on their younger siblings and Finn was left in charge he and Nat would tag-team it. Tonight he was alone. He knew Thursday was my date night, so hadn't invited me to help at all. He hadn't invited me to much at all lately.

I cursed quietly enough that my dad couldn't hear me, then recovered enough to take a sip of hot chocolate. My dad was a master at hot chocolate, because unlike his sister Penny he loved cream and sugar and all of the unnatural, fatty, wonderful things in the world.

"Had a date," I said.

My dad made a quiet humming noise,

"Clinton's a good kid," he said after a while.

I made a face. It was never good when your parents approved of the person you're dating.

"He is!" My dad defended himself. It didn't lighten the mood.

"How's Lei?" I asked, to distracted him. He took a drink from his mug then said,

"She was videoing Reid when it happened. Hard to say who's bad idea it was." He ran a finger along the rim of his cup then said, "kids make mistakes. Love is dumb. They'll be fine."

I snorted. Love was really dumb. This whole trying-to-be-in-love-with-Clinton thing was proof of that. It meant I wasn't there for Finn when he needed me.

My dad tipped the bottom of my cup encouraging me to drink. The chocolate was rich and the whipped cream was cold and fluffy and more than I deserved. It all turned sour in my stomach.

After twenty minutes my dad kissed my head took my half-finished mug of hot chocolate and went inside. An hour after that, I was officially shivering under my blanket. Another half hour and finally, familiar headlights crept up the road.

I stared as Finn's mom unbuckled Reid and carried him in. His tiny brown hair hung limp as he lay curled and asleep on his mom's shoulder. Finn was that old when I met him. We were two dumb kids.

I watched Cato and Hal crawl from the back-seat of the minivan, notebooks and phones in hand. Finn was last out. All I wanted to do was walk over and scoop him into a hug.

I didn't know how to apologize. Every time I tried my mouth dried up, and my insides shriveled up.

Finn pulled the minivan's door shut and peeked my way. The full moon shone on his pale skin. He looked sick.

He stuffed his hands into his peacoat pockets and walked into the house.