The Dead Boy's Guide To Second Chances

20. enabler

FOUR MONTHS AND TWENTY DAYS AFTER THE DEATH OF OLIVER SALLOW

Everything is as it always was. Or at least, as it has been since Oliver's been gone.

It's been one month and nine days since Finn's last seen him. If it weren't for the number still saved in his phone, Finn could pretend he never came back. (Some nights, he's tempted to just delete it, for both their sakes. He never does.)

In the meantime, spring has draped itself over Blissby, and Finn has done what he's always done. Go to school, and try not to think about the fact that Oliver's locker is empty. Go to practice, and try not to think about the fact that his last game is coming up. Study, and try not to think about the fact that his A-Levels are only a few weeks away. Go to therapy, and try not to think about the fact that he doesn't have that many sessions left. Watch Bake Off with his mum, and try not to think about the fact that he'll be leaving her in a matter of months.

It's an easy enough routine to fall back into. Really, it is.

Until he gets the call.

It's in the middle of practice. Normally, he wouldn't even look at his phone—it's pure luck that he spots it in the grass next to the bench during a water break, screen upturned to show his mum's caller ID.

His mum never calls.

He scrambles to pick it up, still out of breath from the scrimmage. "Mum?" he asks. "Is everything okay?"

"Finn." There's a terrible sound like a sob on the other end of the line. "I know you have practice. I'm so s-sorry. I—" She breaks off again. In the background, some kind of tinny announcement is made through a speaker.

"Mum," Finn says again, "Where are you?" 

"The shopping centre," she manages. "In the Benetton on the first floor."

Finn pulls his bib over his head in one jerky motion, letting it float to the ground as he takes off toward the locker room. "I'm on my way. I'll be there in ten minutes or so, okay? Just—just wait for me."

With that, he hangs up. Behind him, his Coach yells Birdie!, something about where he thinks he's going, but Finn doesn't turn around.

In the locker room, he doesn't bother changing—he just pulls his windbreaker over his football gear and stuffs the rest of his uniform into his duffel bag. He's fighting with the laces on his Converse when the door flies open and Aarun and Kavi burst inside.

"Hey," Aarun pants. "Is everything all right?"

Finn's throat is so tight he almost can't get the words out. "No. My mum called. I have to go."

Wordlessly, Kavi crouches down in front of him and bats his shaking hands away. He quickly ties the laces, then wrestles the duffel bag from Finn. "Go. We'll drop your stuff off at your place after practice."

Finn stares at the twins with a feeling like he might cry.

"Go!" Kavi says again.

He bolts to his feet and out the door, down the hallway and into the courtyard where his bike is chained to the fence.

The shopping centre is a twenty-minute ride from his school. He makes it there in twelve.

As he leans his bike against the wall and rushes through the entrance, all types of horrible images fill his head. He's never heard his mum sound the way she did on the phone, but he knows even before he sees her what's going on.

It's even worse when he skids into the changing rooms at United Colours of Benetton. Hers isn't hard to locate—it's where the ragged breathing is coming from.