Backwards. Part 4

"It's not that expensive. And then I wouldn't be a burden to you."

"You're not a burden." Their mom grabbed her purse and paused before a hall mirror to primp her hair. "I just don't see why you can't go with your brother."

Teagan gave Dan a long look, waiting for him to say something. The zombie stared at his empty cereal bowl as if the fate of the world rested on what he put in it. I wanted to kick the dolt. He wasn't blind. He had to know that his sister wanted his attention.

"Get your things," said their mom. "We should have left five minutes ago."

Teagan grabbed her backpack and hurried out, while the zombie poured cornflakes into his bowl.

I perked up as soon as we got to school, hoping to run into Cat. Given how depressed she'd been the other night, I figured something bad must have happened recently. Otherwise, why would Tricia and Spooner act so concerned about her at the Coffee Spot? And why would she be angry at Dan? But knowing her past was like knowing my future. I couldn't be certain what had happened until it happened.

Essentially, I viewed life from the opposite direction as everyone else. My future was their past and their past my future, so while others perceived events in light of what had happened, I perceived them in light of what would happen. In English cla.s.s, for instance, I knew exactly which vocabulary words Mr. Shepherd would include on the pop quiz the next day. And I knew which teacher would collect homework, and which student would be called on and confess he hadn't done the reading, and who would get a breakup text from her boyfriend. Out of all the countless details in a day, I knew exactly which ones would have a consequence tomorrow. It was like reading the end of a mystery before the beginning, so the clues were all obvious. Yet it was the how and why of it all that eluded me.

I worked on paying close attention to everything the zombie observed so I could trace effects back to causes. After the other day, I had a pretty good idea where Cat would be at lunch. Sure enough, she sat at the same table today that she would tomorrow. Tricia sat across from her, and Teagan slumped a few seats down.

Cat's gaze crossed Dan's, lingering a few seconds longer than seemed necessary. That snapped the zombie out of his trance. Then he did a curious thing - he glanced nervously at the table of guys wearing varsity jackets. It all happened in an instant, but it made me wonder what he might be worried about.

Dan retreated to the hallway to eat his lunch while pretending to do homework. In actuality, he drew spirals in the margins and scratched his head. No wonder he'd bomb the math quiz tomorrow. I wanted to go back and see Cat again, except the zombie wouldn't budge. When the period ended, he shuffled to biology, arriving before everyone else and sitting in the back corner.

Students filed in, occupying the seats around him. To my surprise, Cat entered and sat in the third row. We actually had a cla.s.s together! She must have ditched the other day after yelling at Dan.

Mr. Huber, the teacher, announced that they were going to start their dissections today. He rolled out a cart of dead frogs pinned to black wax-filled trays, one for each lab group. A sharp, vaguely chemical scent accompanied the frogs. "Brings back memories, doesn't it?" said Mr. Huber, sniffing loudly. Most of the students crinkled their noses at the smell, but I found it pleasantly familiar. The cla.s.sroom had been rife with this scent the other day. "Of all the senses, smell is the one most closely a.s.sociated with memory," said Mr. Huber.

Seeing the frogs whole was like witnessing a miracle. They appeared perfectly st.i.tched together and healed after the ma.s.sacre of splayed bodies and amputated organs I'd observed in cla.s.s before. If I kept going backwards, the frogs would return to life, although I doubted I'd get to see it. They'd probably arrived at the school already pickled. Still, travel backwards long enough, and all wounds heal.

Three other people sat at Dan's lab table, but Dan didn't talk to any of them. After a few groans and jokes, they set to work cutting open the frog and identifying organs while filling out their lab reports. Dan stayed off to the side, stealing glances at Cat.

"Liver," said Ed, one of Dan's lab partners.

The zombie s.h.i.+fted his gaze back to his group. "Huh?"

"Number five. It's the liver, not the pancreas."

"Oh, right. Thanks."

"You okay, Dan?" asked Ed.

"Yeah," he said. His cheeks strained as he forced himself to smile. "I'm just not into cutting up frogs."

Ed kept making small talk, but none of it interested me much. My attention stayed fixed on Cat. She chewed her lip and wrote in her notebook. No one at her table spoke to her, and she didn't do anything with the dissection. She seemed even more isolated than Dan.

At one point, Dan walked behind her to get some paper towels, and I glimpsed what she'd been writing. Instead of lab notes, she cupped in her hand a carefully folded page with a name written on the front in curly, elegant letters: Finn.

Dan glanced at the table where the guy with the lazy smile who'd been nice to Teagan sat. So that must be Finn. The zombie watched him intently. He looked above average in height, with perfectly symmetrical, attractive features, yet from a strictly physical perspective, Dan might be considered more handsome. And although Finn dressed well enough, his sense of style wasn't exactly original. The thing that struck me the most about him was his confident, friendly manner. While other students were insecure and self-conscious, Finn appeared at ease and in control.

There were three other people in Finn's lab group - an obnoxious, geeky guy with curly hair; an awkward girl with thick gla.s.ses; and a pretty blonde whom I'd noticed with Finn before. I'd thought Finn might just talk to the blonde, but he involved everyone in his group.

I tried to block out the other noises in the cla.s.sroom so I could hear what he said. The curly-haired guy was manipulating their frog's legs, making it do a grotesque little dance on a folder.

"Nice, but you're freaking out the ladies," Finn said.

Curly smiled sheepishly and set their frog back down.

Finn turned to the girl with gla.s.ses, who'd pushed her stool back from the table. "It's all right if you don't want to do the dissection," he told her. "You can be note taker."

She looked relieved and scooted her stool closer.

Once their frog was pinned to the wax board, Finn pa.s.sed a scalpel to the blond girl. "Care to start the incision, Nurse?"

The blond girl paled. "Uh . . . no, thanks, Doctor," she replied. "You can do it."

"If you insist." Finn took the scalpel and cut into the frog. "Forceps," he said, holding his hand out to the blonde. She pa.s.sed him the scissors, happy to play along.

It went on like that for some time, with Finn directing while the others followed his lead. I couldn't hear everything he said, but everyone in his group seemed to enjoy being a part of the game. Students at nearby tables kept looking over, like they wished they could join his group. I didn't blame them. It certainly looked more fun than what was going on in any other group. Even the teacher spent most of his time hanging around Finn's table.

"What do you think, Mr. Huber?" asked Finn at one point. "Is our patient going to make it?"

"The prognosis isn't favorable," replied Mr. Huber.

"Ah, but we have a mad scientist on our team," said Finn, nodding at the curly-haired guy.

Curly held up a frog organ and squeezed it, much to the girls' disgust.

"Easy, Igor," said Finn. "The cafeteria needs that."

Cat kept watching Finn during cla.s.s. I sank deeper into Dan, feeling his whispers churn with angry tones. Was he jealous? I thought of the note I'd seen Cat writing. Then it hit me, with the proverbial force of a cannonball to the gut - Cat liked Finn.

That evening, after stuffing himself with frozen pizza for dinner, the zombie grew restless. He told his mom he had to meet someone to study for a test, but the kid was such a loser he couldn't even think of a decent lie when she asked him what subject it was for.

"Uh . . . it's just a test," he said.

"Whatever," replied his mom, too tired to question him further. "It's your life. Do what you like. Just remember, tomorrow's a school day."

You'd think, with wide-open permission like that, the zombie would do something interesting. For a good twenty minutes, though, he merely drove around, listening to music. I squirmed, wis.h.i.+ng he did need to meet someone to study. Anything seemed better than being stuck alone with him. Finally, Dan drove back to town, turned onto a familiar street, and pulled over four doors down from Cat's apartment.

I perked up at the prospect of seeing Cat, but he didn't get out of the car. Instead, he switched off the headlights and stared at her window. I tried urging him to walk to her apartment, only it didn't work. He just sat in the car, watching her place. The lights in her room eventually flicked off, and she stepped out her front door, heading the opposite direction from where Dan had parked. When she reached the end of the block, she turned away from town.

Dan started his car and edged forward, keeping his headlights off. After a few blocks, he must have thought his car would give him away because he shut off the engine and slipped out. Then he continued after Cat on foot, staying hidden behind bushes and trees. Score one for the zombie - this time, at least, he managed to be a little stealthy.

Cat followed a narrow road. There weren't any streetlamps overhead, and the houses became more spread out, occupying wide overgrown lots. She turned onto a dirt driveway that led to an old farmhouse with boarded-up windows. The porch roof dipped, and some of the walls slanted, giving the whole structure a whimsical slouch.

Dan knelt behind a bush across the street and watched as Cat entered through a side door. She must have lit a few candles, because a flickering glow soon leaked through the cracks in the boards covering the windows. A few minutes later, a car pulled up in front of the house. The driver's door swung open and Finn stepped out.

Immediately, Dan's pulse quickened. Sweat trickled down his arms, and his mouth grew dry. I sank deeper into him, but I couldn't discern what he was thinking. He'd become more agitated than I'd ever seen him - his incomprehensible whispers heaving and churning like rapids in a river. I pulled back, disturbed by the turmoil.

As soon as Finn went into the house, Dan darted across the street and crouched near the door Finn had gone through. The beat of the zombie's heart grew louder.

"You here?" called Finn.

Cat gave a response, only I couldn't make out what it was. Dan crawled closer, pus.h.i.+ng open the door. He peered into a dingy kitchen. Candles flickered on the countertops, but I didn't see Finn or Cat. Their voices came from a room to the left.

"Nice place," said Finn. "Anyone else here?"

"No," answered Cat. "We're alone."

Finn didn't say anything for several seconds. When he spoke again, his voice sounded confident and in control, the way he'd been during the frog dissection. "I like how you've painted the place," he said. "It's festive. So what did you want to talk about?"

"Us."

"Really?" Finn paused. "Look, I'm flattered, Cat. Truly, I am. But I don't think it's going to work out."

"Then why did you come here?"

"Courtesy," he said. "I care about you."

"Will you sit?" she asked.

The floorboards creaked as someone moved.

Cat waited before continuing. "I want you to tell me something. Tell me . . ." Her voice tightened. "Tell me what I meant to you."

There was a long silence. Had they broken up? Was Cat trying to win him back? I desperately wanted to see if she looked angry or upset. Dan pushed the door open farther, but I could only make out shadows in the flickering light. The house smelled strongly of candles and spray paint.

"What you meant to me?" Finn replied. "All right. I'll admit I enjoyed our time together. But you have to let go of this fantasy that things meant more than they did."

"You're lying," she said.

"I'm not," said Finn. "I know you want to believe that we shared something special."

"Stop lying!" she said.

The zombie's fingers dug into the wooden floor, and his stomach lurched.

"Shhh . . ." soothed Finn. "You can't change this. I just don't feel the same way about you that you do about me."

"You will."

Dan edged forward until he saw her. Cat was standing, holding a candle, while Finn reclined on the couch. Then Dan s.h.i.+fted to get a better view and the floor creaked.

Cat turned. She looked bewildered when she saw Dan and not at all pleased. "What are you doing here?"

The zombie scrambled to his feet. "I . . ." he stammered. Blood rushed to his face.

"You're not supposed to be here," she said.

Say something, I urged, but his words died in his throat. He couldn't even meet Cat's gaze, so he focused on Finn instead. "Leave Cat alone."

Finn gave Dan a bemused smile. "Leave her alone? What exactly do you think's going on here?"

Dan grabbed Finn by his s.h.i.+rt, yanking him off the couch. "Leave!" he repeated through clenched teeth.

"Stop it!" yelled Cat. "Let him go."

The strength drained out of the zombie's arms. He turned to her, brow knotted. "Cat, you're confused -"

"Please, just let him go."

"I'm trying to protect you."

"Don't you get it?" said Finn, pulling free of Dan's grasp. He reached into his back pocket and drew out a folded slip of paper. It was the note I'd seen Cat write in biology cla.s.s. "She invited me here."

Dan looked from Finn to Cat. "Why?" There was something so raw and desperate in his voice, even I felt bad for him. Why Finn and not me? he seemed to be asking.

Cat didn't reply.

"I know what this is about," said Finn. "You think you can jump me away from school. You think this will make you feel better." He shook his head, disappointed. "I thought we were cool, Dan. I tried to be your friend."

Dan's thoughts raged around me, making me worry about what he might do.

"It's not too late," continued Finn. "I'm still willing to forgive you." He held out his hand.

Take it, I thought.

Dan charged. It was such a spastic, clumsy attack that all Finn had to do was pivot like a matador and Dan stumbled past, smacking into a wall.

Pain exploded around me, bright as the desert sun. I recoiled, avoiding the sensation. Dan tried to punch Finn, but his fist glanced off Finn's shoulder. Finn countered with a blow to Dan's chest. The two of them kept fighting, only things felt duller now. Distant.

For Dan, the fight might have taken on a sort of slow-motion clarity, but for me it was like watching a poorly filmed action sequence with the camera jerking from the ceiling, to Cat's s.h.i.+rt, to an empty milk jug, to a clenched fist. Dan swung blindly, and his forearm cracked Finn's jaw. It was a lucky hit, sending Finn staggering back. Then Dan tackled Finn and the two of them skidded across the dusty floor into the couch.

Dan attempted to choke Finn, while Finn shoved the zombie's head to the side. In the candlelight, I glimpsed a giant turtle painted on the wall. I only saw it for an instant before Finn's hand crossed Dan's face. I couldn't see Cat, but I heard her.

"Dan, stop!" she screamed. "You have to stop!"

A thin, heady smell filled Dan's senses. He s.h.i.+fted to get a better hold on Finn and kicked over some candles.

Instantly, the couch whooshed into flames. The heat stunned me. I thought Dan's hair had caught fire. He leaped back, brus.h.i.+ng his head with his hands, but he seemed okay.

Finn scrambled away from the burning couch. "What the h.e.l.l?" He kept backing up, looking from Dan to Cat as if he couldn't believe what had happened. "You're crazy. Both of you are crazy."

Dan grabbed a board and tried to beat out the flames with it, which ended up being worse than useless. Sparks shot onto the floor and wall. Pretty soon, the whole couch was burning and flames swept the ceiling. In the sudden light, I glimpsed giant mushrooms, rose vines, teacups, flamingos, and other odd images on the walls, until the acrid smoke grew thick and Dan's vision blurred.

He turned to survey the room. Finn must have left. Only Cat remained, standing close enough to the burning couch to roast marshmallows on it.

"We have to get out of here," Dan said with his typical flair for stating the obvious.

Cat kept staring at the flames.

"Cat!" Dan shouted.