Just Listen

by Clare James

  It was a win-win, Phil always said. Much easier to create our own buzz this way. I wondered what kind of buzz my boss was creating with the suits at the station – leveraging my lead on Finn to his benefit, I was sure.

  “Lighten up.” Phil kicked up his feet and placed them on his desk. He was going for cool, but it just looked awkward. The man was about as flexible as the IRS.

  “I will not,” I told him. “And I promise, it won’t be just me going down when the shit hits. You’ll be joining me.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. You got yourself into this mess, you’ll get yourself out of it. Give me something, or I’m going to let Tina run with the whole thing. You have two days.”

  ***

  “What’s going on, Case?” Mack asked after I left Phil’s office. “The Mole’s been acting like Taco Bell went out of business all week. Is he still pissy about that Buns-n-Bowties bit?”

  “I wish,” I told her.

  “What is it then?”

  I shrugged, not wanting to go over it again.

  “Spill it, lady,” Mack said.

  “Well, it seems I’ve gotten myself into a huge mess,” I finally said.

  “Can’t be that bad.”

  “It’s worse,” I argued.

  “Does it have to do with your super-secret project for sweeps?”

  I nodded.

  “Tell me,” she said. “Maybe I can help.”

  “Nobody can help. I’ve gotten myself into this on my own, and now I have to fix it.”

  “At least tell me who it’s about.”

  “Finn Daley.”

  She paused for a long moment while she looked me over.

  “Are you the source for Tattle Tale Tina’s article?”

  Again I responded with a nod.

  “That’s awesome,” she said. “So what’s the problem?

  “None of it’s true.”

  “The drug problem?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  “The kid?”

  “Nada,” I replied.

  “The fuck, Case? What did you do? Make it all up?”

  “No,” I huffed. “I just got the stories wrong. I’m a terrible reporter.”

  “Well, if you didn’t make it up, why do you think you got it wrong?”

  “Because Finn told me to my face,” I admitted. “That’s the other problem. I kinda know him.”

  “Oh my fucking God, Casey,” she said, enjoying every second of my torment. “You know, know him. In the biblical sense?”

  I could feel my face heat, but I didn’t say a word.

  Mack squealed in delight.

  “You’ve been getting down with the Angel of Death?” she asked. “You rotten girl, holding out on my like this.”

  I warmed at the sound of Finn’s nickname, remembering when that was my only reference to him – the stories behind the name.

  “You lucky duck. Tell me everything. No, just answer my questions. I’ve heard he’s an absolute freak in the sack. True or false?

  She stared at me again – as if learning all my secrets by reading my mind.

  “Okay, let’s see if my spidey sense is as good as yours. You were on the hunt for a story when you discovered the Finn Daley turmoil. You got close to him to get the story. Then you got the story wrong and during all of this, you fell face first, in fucking love with the guy.”

  “Shit,” I said, unable to say anything else.

  Mack clapped her hands and asked,” How’d I do?”

  I tapped on my nose.

  Damn she was good.

  ***

  Two days, my ass. Phil could go fuck himself. I didn’t have to wait; I could go right to the source.

  I paced in my room, planning my next move. This was the second lead I’d gotten wrong. I was a terrible reporter. And Finn was paying the price.

  That’s when I knew what I had to do. I let out the breath I was holding, and then I put in a call to the gossip columnist herself – Tina Carlson. I’d explain it was a mistake, and hopefully she would be more concerned with the truth than Phil was.

  “Case,” Zack said, coming in with a pile of papers. “Got a sec?”

  “Not really,” I said, not even looking at him. If I had, I would’ve known something was wrong.

  “Oh,” he said. “Later, then?”

  “Sorry, bro,” I told him. “I have to take care of something. But I’ll be back later.”

  Then, in the next breath, I texted Finn: Can we talk?

  Chapter 10

  Trap (n.):

  Defensive formations designed to minimize the opposition's scoring opportunities and keep its offense from functioning.

  Finn

  “Get out¸ Ava,” I said when she showed up on my front door. This was so not good.

  It was too much like old times. I’d fuck up and she’d show up to rub it in my face. It was how she maintained some sort of control back when I running wild.

  Ava was my past. Crazy. Superficial. Shallow. I was more than all that now.

  Finally back at home, I ached to get back to the new life I had created. I needed to get back to my center. That meant my mornings with Mia for acupuncture; the coconut water and fucking quinoa that I’d grown to love; my yoga mat and rose water. Maybe it wasn’t that bad, but I most definitely needed my fucking pussy vices to stay in check. These things I learned over the past months kept me sane.

  Until Casey.

  With her, I went back to that hypersexual creature, alpha as fuck. It was one of the first signs of my manic episodes. Consumed with fucking – Ava, the Puck Bunnies, whoever I could get my hands on. My appetite was insatiable.

  But since my treatment with Dr. Hart, I’d been just fine. Except with Casey.

  The obsession came back, but it wasn’t the act so much that played in my mind over and over again. Before the girls were just a means to getting off – a way to fly on that orgasmic high.

  With Case, it was different. She was the image on that never-ending replay in my mind.

  And no matter what I did, the thoughts didn’t go away.

  Neither did my hard-on.

  Shit, I was still a mess and the last thing I needed was Ava provoking me.

  “Stop being an ass,” Ava said brushing past me. “I brought you your favorite. Calzones from Tony’s. I thought we could eat and hang out, you know, like we used to do when we were together.”

  “Ava, it’s a nice thought. Really, it is. It’s just that I don’t eat that shit anymore. I’m pretty clean these days. It helps level me out.”

  “Didn’t really seem like you were leveled out at the hospital.”

  “Nice.” I rolled my eyes. “Thanks.” Ava always had a way with words.

  “Sorry.” She rubbed her hands on my arms. “But you were pretty out of it for a few days.”

  “I’m told it happens to the best of us,” I say, hearing Dr. Hart’s words in my head. “But I’m not going to let one set back knock me down. And by the way, we never ate calzones and hung out in the old days.”

  “Sure we did. I remember you eating those things by the truckload.”

  “Yeah, I scarfed down my food before you dragged me out to some event or new bar or club. We were always on the go. See and be seen, remember? That was your M.O.”

  “Well, I have a new M.O.”

  “Not likely.”

  “I would’ve said the same about you until I saw it myself. All alternative and earthy now. Not to mention clean and sober.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “Well, I’ve changed too. I know I took you for granted and pushed and didn’t give you what you needed. But I can now. I miss you, Finny. I want to have our old life without all the shit. The new normal.”

  The new normal.

  She did make a good case. Still, I wasn’t ready.

  “It’s too soon, Ava.”

  “Okay, okay,” she said. “I get that. The old Ava wouldn’t, but I do. Let’s go slow. I’ll get rid of the toxic Italian
and make you a salad. Then we can watch the O Network or something.”

  “Still a smartass.”

  “I’ve changed, Finny, but I’m no angel.”

  There was somewhat of a comfort having Ava back in the house. Something familiar. Shit knows, Nate could use a night off of entertaining me.

  I stepped aside and waved her in.

  “Goodie,” she squealed. “I promise, you won’t regret it.”

  Chapter 11

  Casey

  Anchor/Kiki Stuart: So Casey, you were ready to come clean on everything? Your botched stories? The lies? The way you tricked Finn?

  Casey: Yes. God, yes. I wanted that more than anything.

  Anchor/Kiki Stuart: But you didn’t, Finn?

  Finn: Hell, no. I was planning on going back to the NHL. And, as we’ve recently seen happen with other athletes, bipolar disorder and professional sports don’t go well together.

  Anchor/Kiki Stuart: I wouldn’t say that. There are a lot of athletes with mental illness.

  Finn: Yeah? And how are the majority of them doing with that? Teams let players go all the time for mental illness.

  Anchor/Kiki Stuart: If you’re talking about the recent stories in the NBA, there were other factors involved.

  Finn: Factors which all happened to be related to the players’ illness.

  Casey: That’s why we had to come up with a plan.

  Finn wasn’t answering his phone, so I went to his house.

  There was another car in the driveway, probably Nate. That was a good thing. He could be the voice of reason, because I had a feeling Finn was going to be difficult.

  I rang the doorbell. No answer again. Although I was no longer welcome at his home, I couldn’t help pushing the limits. I turned the knob.

  It was open.

  “Finn,” I called out.

  Nothing.

  Then I heard laughing. I calmed when I heard his voice; it was like the sweetest music. Until a woman’s voice joined in, and the beautiful music turned to the most irritating noise. What’s worse than nails on a chalkboard? An alarm clock when you’re hung over, maybe? It was like that.

  “Finn,” I yelled, unable to stop myself.

  Shit, I shouldn’t be here.

  A point made clearer when I had the chance to see where the sounding alarm clock was coming from. My hands instantly balled into fists.

  “Casey,” Finn said when he walked into the foyer with an eyebrow raised.

  He looked so good, I forgot about the paper doll for a minute – the bitch from Finn’s room who accused me of being a Puck Bunny.

  An incredible improvement from his hospital stay, Finn’s color was back and he looked positively giant compared to the anorexic model he was standing next to. Not that sad, weak man he’d been in that bed.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I need to talk to you,” I said.

  “Finny, I can handle this,” Ava told him before addressing me. “Listen, you crazy bitch, if you’re not out of here in the next five seconds, we’re going to call the police.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Do it.”

  “In case I wasn’t clear enough in the hospital, you aren’t welcome.”

  “Ava,” Finn said.

  “No, baby,” Ava whined. “She is batshit. She just broke into your house and she attacked me at the hospital. She’s nuts.”

  “Really?” He laughed. “You’re really saying that to me?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Her voice was so annoying and high-pitched, I was waiting for the town dogs to come running in at any moment.

  “Get out,” she said, taking a step in my direction.

  I couldn’t believe that Finn was actually interested in her. Maybe, when he was sick. But now? Why?

  “And like I made perfectly clear at the hospital,” I told her, “you aren’t the boss of me, so back the fuck up.”

  “Finn,” Ava cried, and I swear he cracked a smile.

  “Now,” I said, “I apologize for interrupting, but I need to talk to my friend.”

  “Is she your friend?” Ava asked Finn.

  “Something like that,” he answered, his eyes not leaving me. “Or was.”

  “Sorry,” Ava said. “But he’s not up for visitors yet.”

  “Okay,” I said, starting to lose my cool again. “Your voice is making me stabby, and I know Finn has a block of knives on the kitchen counter, so you need to zip it for a minute. M’kay?”

  That’s when he lost it, a full-on Finn laugh echoed in the room.

  “I just need a minute,” I told him. “I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important.”

  “Okay, go into the living room,” he said with a wave to the other room. “I’ll be right in.”

  Making my way inside, there was no way to miss the commotion going on in the foyer.

  There was some whispering, followed by a little yelling and maybe even a tear or two.

  The door slammed, and an evil, movie-style cackle rang out in my head.

  “What’s going on?” He joined me on the couch.

  “I’m going to fix this and make it right,” I told him, fighting tears. He needed action, not my blubbering. “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through.”

  “I’m sorry too,” he said, but his words were cold. “I’m sorry I trusted you, Casey.”

  Wait just a minute, Finn Daley.

  “But you didn’t,” I argued. “Not really. You didn’t tell me the truth.”

  “Because of what you said when you found out about my mom. You could never do what I do.”

  “I don’t think I could. I’m not a good caretaker. Maybe because I never had a good example. I didn’t grow up with hugs and kisses, and praise and coddling. It was survival; that’s what I’m used to. But that doesn’t mean I would’ve left you if I found out you were bipolar.”

  “You did leave. Even before you knew what was going on. Not that it mattered, what we had was all fake anyway, right? You had your story planned from the very beginning.”

  “It started that way and I feel about as low as you can go for that. I made some terrible decisions.”

  I also fell in love with you in the process.

  It was what I wanted to say to him, but fear held my tongue.

  “Terrible decisions.” Finn laughed. “That doesn’t even begin to describe what you did to me.”

  “I wish you’d try to see this from my point of view,” I said.

  “Selfish and immature, okay.”

  “This is the shit I’m talking about. Why do you have to be so abrasive?”

  “And coming in here, uninvited I might add, to scare away my guest isn’t abrasive?”

  “If you knew what was going on in my head when I saw her here, you’d think I behaved like a proper lady. She is a vile human being.”

  “Fine, whatever. I’m not going to debate Ava with you.”

  “Why?” I blurted. “Are the two of you together now?”

  “Why would you care at this point?”

  “I care,” I told him. He had to know how much.

  “So, why did you need to talk to me now?”

  “Because there’s more bad press coming your way.”

  “What do you know?”

  “Phil is running the show now. If I don’t give it up, he’s letting Tina run everything she can find in her column. But I have an idea to prevent all of that.”

  “Great.”

  I ignored Finn’s skepticism and kept going. “I think we should call Tina on our own.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “So we can control the story and come clean.”

  “About my bipolar?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not coming clean, Casey.”

  “I would be with you. I would also tell Tina about all of my mistakes in this thing.”

  Finn kept shaking his head. I knew he’d be difficult about this.

  “Look,” I said. “I know it’s not
the most comfortable thing to divulge, but it’s not like you can help the fact you’re bipolar.”

  “If it was only that simple.”

  “I think it is that simple. Wouldn’t you rather have people know the truth than think you’re something you’re not?”

  “Actually, no. I would not rather have people know the truth. Not by a long shot.”

  I was beginning to think I didn’t know a goddamn thing about Finn Daley. He continuously surprised me. He also fascinated the heck out of me.

  But now what was I supposed to do?

  Chapter 12

  SIN BIN (n.)

  The penalty box.

  Finn

  Casey got all stiff and feisty again and I adored it. She had this energy that made me forget all the reasons why I should run from this girl.

  I couldn’t. Anytime I was near her, she only pulled me closer.

  There it was. I love how she made me feel so alive. It also pissed me off, because I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in her.

  Case could feel it, too. Her eyes were hooded, her mouth parted – just like that last night. Personally, I just wanted to finish what we started.

  Finish it and be done with it. Then I could tell her about my plan to undo the shitstorm she created.

  “For once,” I clamped a hand down on her wrist. “You’re going to listen to me. We’re going to table this discussion and you’re going to let me finish what we started the last night we were here together.”