Baby Don't Return to Me

I really was regressing wasn’t I? I was 17 all over again only now I had a real ID and a taste for Whiskey Sours and Lemon Drops. But some things never changed, no matter how badly I had tried to rewrite my own history, create a new identity for myself and erase the past, Finnegan’s House was still here; a bar of memories.

I ran my finger along the engraving on the billiard table, Finn had given up long ago on trying to stop the vandalism and I had a hunch that the forgotten pool table in the back corner of the room was growing on him. The pool table held engravings, carvings, etched in its maple wood for all eternity. It wasn’t nonsensical things written, it was declarations, promises.
My fingers still easily traced the writings, cutting my heart like the knife had cut this wood.

Make it right. It was hard to explain how I could decipher my friends engravings but I could; to some degree it held similarities to their hand writing--his handwriting.

Before I could let my mind snowball theories to the meaning behind the three innocence words I picked up the pool stick and broke the perfect triangle sitting in the velvety green middle. I had half the table cleared before my skin began to crawl, the feeling that always occurred when someone was watching me. I turned, not sure whether to be startled or relieved to find that it wasn’t Kennedy. He stood there in the shadows, hair hiding his emerald orbs, propped against a pool stick. All I could do was stare at him. I had a lot of excuses for leaving Tempe but only he knew the truth, a truth he kept just as hidden as I did. He was the one person who wouldn’t have an ounce of judgment or bitterness about my departure, the only one who wouldn’t be that pissed about me dropping off the face of the earth—even if he had hoped I’d never return.

Somehow I knew that tonight he was the only one that wouldn’t be giving me hell. Tonight I found a friend in a haunting enemy.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” I echoed. I couldn’t help but stare, I was feeling like an idiot as I gawked at him but it was just hard to relax, to stay cool, when every memory of him suddenly filled my head. Of course my head conjured the worst ones I had of him: the cursing, the screaming, the taunting, and the silent treatment. Those were the only memories I had of him in the days before I left Tempe. I wanted to say something, I knew we were both expecting the other to speak but for once I couldn’t. My mind was a blank slate and my mouth wasn’t working properly. I wanted to say so much and at the same time nothing at all.

“I have to say, I was surprised to see you here.” He said after a moment of silence, stepping into the dimly lit area. I saw his eyes then, the brilliant gleam, and the sparkle.

“Why?” I still didn’t know what to say to him so prompting him to continue talking was all I could do. I was afraid of him jumping the gun, bringing up the past, demanding answers, beingunjustifiably angry like Kennedy had been.

“I don’t know.” He mumbled, twirling the pool stick in his hand, his eyes on the velvety green surface of the table. “You just made it pretty clear when you left that you didn’t want this life anymore.” Fear was churning in my stomach. “You wanted change, a different life. I just didn’t expect you back in your old one, back here at our,” His voice broke and he cursed himself before his eyes flickered to me. “place.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I admitted with a sigh looking away. “I just…Claire was on the verge of strangling me, Kennedy is trying to pick a fight with me…I don’t know.” I mumbled, wringing out my hands. “I just wound up here. I wanted to go somewhere were I couldn’t be found, where I wouldn’t be harassed. Somewhere I could get some peace.” When I glanced back at him, curious as to whether he was even listening to me, I was startled to find his green eyes locked on my face, his eyes full of apprehension and curiosity.

He glanced away after a moment, collecting the cue balls and setting them within the triangle. “I know that-“ He hesitated. “I know you and I, we aren’t exactly friends.” He stated. “But we also aren’t enemies. I’m not Kennedy and Emerson, or Garrett for that matter.”

“Garrett hates me too?” I couldn’t keep the whiny edge out of my voice. Apparently I was karma’s new target.

The corners of his mouth slipped up. “I just want you to know that the problems they have with you aren’t the ones I have with you.” He stated cryptically.

“What are you trying to say, John?”

“If you’re looking for answers concerning the witch hunt, I wouldn’t advise you going to the participants asking why they’re after you for when they’re carrying pitch forks. They’re too angry, too scared. They need to blame someone for their screw ups and they’ve chosen you.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t leading that witch hunt.” I murmured bravely. I had forgotten how easy everything was with John. Being around John, talking with John, everything was just easier. I may not have been able to lie out all my problems with Kennedy in one night but at this rate I may be able to do it with John.

“I’m not much of a hunter.” He shrugged noncommittally. “You know me, on the rare occasion when I do get angry it’s not like I’ll use my fists to solve my problems.” He stared at me for a long moment and it unnerved me. I wasn’t sure why but it made me uncomfortable. He looked away then, lifting the triangle and revealing a cookie cutter triangular shape of shiny cue balls. “All I’m saying is, if you’re looking for answers maybe I can help.”

“Why would you help me John?” I whispered. I couldn’t help but ask. Kennedy, Garrett, Emerson--they were his friends. I was just the first girl to break his heart. “I don’t deserve it.”

“You deserve a lot,” He laughed bitterly. “But I was never very much help back then, I’ll be the first to admit that I treated you unfairly. You needed a friend when it all went to hell and I was the first to walk away and it was wrong. What happened…I should have been beside you back then not throwing you out of my house.” Dread filled me, was he saying it was all going to hit the fan again? “What happened, happened. But at the end of the day you don’t deserve the backlash your return is going to cause. Not when it’s for all the wrong reasons anyway…”

“What do you mean?”

John shifted his weight and looked me directly in the eye. “Look, when you left everything went to hell. It was bad for a long time. Shit happened and most of it can’t even be blamed on you but it is anyway because they made stupid decisions and blamed it on your leaving.”

“John?” I questioned warily. He glanced at the empty shot glasses beside me.

“You’re going to want a couple more of those.”