I can’t help but inch closer to the back-seat window, trying to see inside the car. I discern a few blankets, what looks like convenience store food—all nonperishable stuff—a phone charger, and the duffel bag Finn was carrying last night dumped on the back seat.
My heart drops when it hits me.
He’s been sleeping in there.
That’swhy his car hasn’t moved.
And it doesn’t look like a onetime thing either.
How long has he been living in his car? How long has he been eating that convenience store crap? But most of all, why would the son of a millionaire be living like this? Mr. Richards might’ve had some issues with his son, but he’d never want Finn to go hungry or become homeless, no matter what. Unless… he’s cut all ties with his dad?
A pang of guilt blooms in my chest, but I cut it down before it can grow, telling myself that I don’t care where he’s been sleeping. He could have been sleeping in a dumpster for a year, and I still wouldn’t give a—
“It’s rude to stare, Gem.”
I worry my heart is going to stop when I see Finn eyeing me from the driver’s seat. He’s removed the baseball cap from his face, a wicked smirk dancing on his lips. I didn’t even hear him roll down the window. Jesus, has he been awake this whole time?
My first and only reaction is to back away from his car like a criminal who just got caught red-handed, and I accidentally stick my foot into a pothole that’s brimming with last night’s rain.
While trying to pull it out, I lose my balance, falling ass-first on the sidewalk behind me. I glance down at my foot that’s still plunged into the deep hole on the road, the water instantly filling up my shoe.
What. A. Dumb. Idiot.
“Shit, are you okay?” Finn hurries out of his car. All I wanted was a shred of dignity, but no, I just had to fall on my ass in front of the boy who broke my heart.
“Here.” Finn stops by my side, holding out his hand for me. I stare at it for a moment but don’t accept his help. He smiles at my reaction, which only deepens my humiliation.
He thinks this is funny?
“You haven’t changed one bit, you know that?” he comments, and I bite my tongue. He has no idea how wrong he is, but I promised myself I’d never say a word to him again, so I ignore him, taking off my wet shoe with a cringe. Today’s a cold, windy day, and I have to walk dogs all morning. I flip my shoe upside down to drain the water out.
“Dia?” he asks when I don’t reply.
I ignore him again.
“Giving me the silent treatment, huh?” He catches on quickly, but I deny him my attention, taking off my sock, which is also dripping with water. I begin to twist the fabric to get the water out, but it’s no use. It’s soaked through. I check the time on my phone, wondering if I have enough to go back inside the apartment and grab a dry pair of socks.
The next bus is in five minutes. The first dog I’m walking is relatively close to Aveena’s apartment, but the bus stop is all the way down the street. I don’t have time to go back upstairs. Plus, even if I did change socks, my shoe would still be soaked since I only own one pair.
“Dia, look at me,” Finn commands, and I make it a point to focus on draining the water out of my sock. “Dia,” he repeats seconds later, and I fight the urge to tell him to fuck off.
He gives a long sigh.
“So, that’s it, then? We’re really not going to talk?”
“Nope.” I only realize what I’ve done once it’s too late.
Way to ignore him, Dia.
“Dia, just fucking talk to me.” He runs out of patience as I’m sliding my foot into my wet sock.
I muffle the laugh ripping from my throat. If he thinks he can just barge into my life a year later and make demands, he’s in for a world of disappointment.
“Yell at me, tell me to fuck off, call me an asshole, I don’t give a shit, as long as you say something.” A hint of desperation is audible in his voice, and I find my vow of silence much less appealing than his request.
You want me to be mean to you, Richards?
Done.