She came to the pocket doors and, with a wicked cool grin, said, “I’m just gonna close these. Kirb and me are gonna do Wii. We might get loud,” she tipped her head to the TV, “don’t wanna disturb your program.”

Then she winked and closed the doors.

Fin had found his times to kiss his girl but that was the first time they made out. On the couch. In his living room. With his brother and aunt upstairs shouting and laughing over whatever they were playing on Wii.

It was awesome.

Fin thought it was totally cool Reesee had never been kissed or touched by anyone but him. He also found he had all the patience in the world to teach her how to do it and what he liked. He didn’t take advantage, feel her up or anything. His girl was too good for that shit. He’d wait. Introduce her slow-like. But he liked it that she got a little stiff at first and, if he was gentle and took his time, she lost that then she got all cuddly and sweet.

He liked it a lot.

Aunt Dusty had also “talked” Fin into giving Reesee and No their horseback riding lesson this past weekend.

This, with Aunt Dusty’s go ahead, Fin ended with him on the back of Blaise, Reesee in front of him and he took her out on the land, showing her his favorite places. No had gone home so it was just them. He’d also taken her to a stand of trees by the creek, pulled her off Blaise, walked her around then pushed her up against a tree trunk and took his time teaching her about kissing some more.

She was getting used to it. He could tell because she didn’t hardly get stiff at all anymore. Now she got into it real quick.

Real quick.

His Aunt Dusty was totally the shit.

Reesee was better.

His girl was coming out. She didn’t have any trouble at all talking to him anymore. Still, she wasn’t a jabber-mouth. She listened more than she talked and she only talked when she had something interesting to say. And she always talked soft.

Fin liked that too.

What he didn’t like was what she told him last week after she sat down with her Dad, Mom and Mrs. Layne. He was surprised, as was Rees, that Reesee’s Mom showed. He wasn’t surprised that Rees had a talent that made her better than any kid in that school, made her better than that ‘Burg. He already knew that though he wasn’t expecting it to be her writing.

What he didn’t like about this was they were talking about her going to another school. Fin had another year there and he didn’t want Reesee to be at some other school his senior year. That would totally suck.

But she had to do it. He’d heard his Gram and Gramps saying more than once that they wished they’d had the money to send Aunt Dusty to a special school for the arts and it was just the Lord’s work and Aunt Dusty’s drive that led her to a life of doing what she loved to do. If Reesee had that opportunity and the talent, and Mrs. Layne was totally cool, she would not lie about that, she should take it.

And nothing should hold her back.

Fin slammed his locker and looked down at his girl.

“Ready?” he asked.

Her eyes moved over his face and he knew she was thinking. Then again, she always was. His Reesee was never blank, always had something on her mind. She might talk soft and not very much but whatever she said was interesting. And if she didn’t share, Fin always wanted to know what was going on in her head.

She didn’t share this time, just nodded and pushed away from her locker. Then she moved into him and he claimed her.

It took him a while to get her to this point too. He could tell she was shy about holding hands but once her hand started to find his rather than the other way around, Fin moved it on. He did this by sliding his arm around her shoulders. The first time he did it he knew she didn’t know what to do with herself so he actually had to grab her wrist and tug it around his waist.

But she got used to that too. Like now, the minute he slid his arm around her shoulders, making sure to let his fingers glide through her soft hair, she slid her arm around his waist and hooked her thumb in his side belt loop.

Like always when he had his girl in the curve of his arm, Fin thought she was the perfect height and that he really liked her perfume.

Fin started walking her to the parking lot but he did it grinning.

Kirb would be waiting by the truck and then be in it with them but still, this was an added freedom, a step up and he hoped, eventually, Mr. Haines would trust Fin alone with their girl.

As they walked, Fin asked in a mutter, “What’s on your mind?”

“What’s on yours.”

He looked down at her. “Hunh?”

She looked up at him and her mouth quirked in a little smile. She did that every once in a while and Fin thought it was seriously fucking cute.

“What’s on my mind is what’s on yours,” she explained. “When you were gettin’ your books, your thoughts looked heavy.”

It was weird and sometimes it freaked him out but she seemed to be able to read him. At his age he had no clue this was part of her talent, her innate understanding of human behavior and sensing of moods both of which made her a good writer. And he also had no idea this was part of her, why it made her feel so deep, be so sensitive to others and care so much about the ones she loved.

Her arm gave him a squeeze and she asked real gentle, “Are you thinkin’ about your Dad?”

No, for once he wasn’t thinking about his Dad, his Ma, his bitch of an Aunt Debbie or worried that the adults in his life wouldn’t be able to win the fight his aunt was waging.

Instead, he was thinking about losing Reesee to another school.

He didn’t want to lie so he looked forward and muttered, “It’s no big deal.”

“Heavy is always big in one way or another, Fin,” she whispered.

He heard it but didn’t respond. This was because Brandon Wannamaker, Jeff Schultz and Troy Piggott were headed their way and Brandon had eyes on Fin.

Fin’s body got tight.

Brandon was a senior. He was also an asshole. Rumor around school was his Dad was a serious, major dick. Still, even if things were shit at home, it didn’t mean you should bring that shit to school. Fin knew that now more than ever.

Jeff and Troy were both juniors and they were Brandon’s lackeys. They’d do anything for him. Why they thought Brandon’s shit didn’t stink, Fin had no clue since Brandon was skinny, ugly, had a stupid non-haircut where his blond hair was all long and stringy, he had acne and he was, as Fin noted, an asshole. Fin didn’t get that either. What he did get was that they got off on it. Whatever was in them that drew them to Brandon, it wasn’t good.

Brandon and Fin had tussled verbally more than once. This was because, last year when Brandon was a junior and Fin was a sophomore, they had lunch together and Brandon’s favorite time to spread his asshole cheer was at lunch. Fin let him be if he was giving shit to a kid who was a boy. He didn’t like it but he was a guy and he probably wouldn’t want some older kid making him look even more of a loser by stepping up for him.

But one day when Brandon decided to pick on a fat girl, Fin stepped in. That was totally not cool. Sure, she was fat and probably should do something about it but she didn’t need some douchebag making her obviously miserable life more of a misery.

Brandon didn’t like this. Then again, Brandon didn’t have much of a say. Troy and Jeff didn’t have the same lunch break so his crew was not there to take his back. And even last year, before Fin grew the extra two inches that took him up to six foot, he was taller and bulkier than Brandon. So Brandon saved face by making a lot of threats and slunk off.

Fin stepped in five more times last year. Luckily this year, both semesters, he didn’t have any of them in his lunch.

But right then, walking with Reesee down the hall, he took one look at Brandon’s face as well as his crew and he knew Brandon was in his usual mood to be an asshole.

So he tightened his hold on Reesee, drawing her closer and he locked eyes on the leader of the pack.

“There he is, Farmer Fin,” Brandon called when they were getting close and Fin felt Reesee’s body get tight and her head jerked to face front. “With his new piece,” Brandon finished and Fin’s free hand formed a fist.

“When you throw that away, I’ll take seconds,” Troy offered, smiling an ugly smile at Reesee. Fin’s stomach clenched but he kept his mouth shut, his eyes on them and he kept walking.

Ressee pushed closer.

“Me too,” Brandon put in. They’d made it to the trio and all of them positioned, Brandon walking backwards, Troy and Jeff moving to flank. “Clarisse Haines. Off-limits freshman but you two hooked up, not anymore.” Brandon’s hostile eyes stared into Fin’s. “You tap that yet?”

“Shove off, douchebag,” Fin growled, continuing to move him and Reesee down the hall.

Brandon smiled big. “You tapped it. Was it sweet?”

Fin felt Reesee begin to tremble at his side even as she pushed closer and Fin felt a burn hit his gut.

“I said, shove off, douchebag,” Fin mostly repeated.

“Bet it was,” Brandon whispered, his eyes flicking to Reesee then back to Fin. “You always pick the sweet snatch. Way you go through ‘em though, you’ll be done and she’ll be ripe for the pickin’s in what? A day? A week?” He looked to Jeff and concluded, “I’ll give it a week.”

Reesee pushed closer but Fin wasn’t paying attention to her. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Troy’s hand up and moving toward Reesee’s hair.

Fin halted them then moved them both a step back, jerking Rees behind his back, he turned toward Troy and locked eyes with him.

“Do not even think about it, asshole,” he clipped.

Troy grinned at him. “She’s got pretty hair.” He moved his grin to Reesee, it became a leer and he went on. “Always liked your hair, Rees.” His eyes slid down her body and he whispered in a sick way, “Always liked a lotta things about you.”

Reesee pressed into Fin’s back.

“All of you, fuck off,” Fin ordered.

“What’re you gonna do, Farmer Fin?” Brandon asked snidely. “Don’t got your crew with you so what are you gonna do, we don’t fuck off?”

Fin edged back, pushing Reesee with him, warning, “You don’t wanna find out.”

“We don’t?” Brandon whispered, a weird light Fin did not like burning in his eyes.

“No. You don’t,” Fin whispered back.

Then it happened. Troy moved in and around, his hand came back up going toward Reesee’s hair and Fin shoved her back. Then his hand darted out, he caught Troy’s wrist and twisted it behind his back. Once he got a lock on him, he moved him forward three steps and shoved him face first into a locker.

“Fin!” he heard Reesee scream but he couldn’t even look at her. The other two had jumped him.

He was pressed double, weight on his back, Brandon’s fist connecting with his ribs.

He heaved up, throwing them off while jerking his elbow back and catching Jeff in the jaw as he shouted, “Get a teacher!”

“Fin!” Reesee cried again.

He planted his hands on Brandon’s shoulders, got close and lifted a knee, hard, catching Brandon in his crotch. Brandon’s hands went there and he dropped to his knees on a pained groan but Troy and Jeff were all over him.

“Teacher, Rees!” he roared, just caught sight of her turning on her foot and running right before he caught Jeff’s fist on his cheekbone.

Stars exploded in his eyes and everything that happened since the sixth of January when he saw his Dad dead in the snow exploded in his brain.

And that was when Finley Declan Holliday lost his mind and unleashed hell on Brandon Wannamaker, Jeff Schultz and Troy Piggott.

* * *

Mike stalked into the school and right up front by the windowed administration offices, he saw Dusty pacing the hall, her face set right at fury.

The instant she saw him, with long angry strides, her legs took her to meet him.

“Where are they?” he asked, not taking his eyes from her flashing ones and she stopped a foot in front of him.

“In there,” she jerked her head toward the offices. “I’m in the hall waiting for you and trying to list the reasons it would be bad to kill three teenaged kids and lay the smackdown on a stupid-ass principal.”

At her head jerk, Mike’s eyes went to the windows of the office. In the front seating area Fin and Reesee were sitting, thighs pressed close, heads bent and close together. Reesee was holding Fin’s hand. Fin’s hand, incidentally, that had split, bleeding knuckles. This corresponded with a shining, swelling already bruising mark on his upper left cheekbone.