Backwards by Todd Mitchell

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, pushing 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 shifted 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 shirt, 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 class. “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