Disclaimer: John Knowles owns these two. No profit gained, wanted, or deserved, really.

Got There First

"I'm first in the shower," he said.

"You can't get that cast wet, can you?" asked Brinker.

"No. I'll keep it outside the curtain."

"I'll help," said Brinker.

"No," said Finny without looking at him, "I can manage all right."

"How can you manage all right?" Brinker persisted aggressively.

"I can manage all right," Finny repeated with a set face.

…

"I got there first."

"What?" I threw a narrow look at Brinker, who had this ridiculous, knowing grin on his face. "What are you talking about?"

"I got there first," Brinker repeated, lifting his brows. He tilted his head slightly, indicating that I should follow his gaze.

"It was a long summer, Forrester."

I sighed and turned around, expecting to see a poster or banner declaring Brinker's rank in school, or some other obnoxious emblem of his superiority, but my jaw dropped. My body went cold.

I stared at Brinker's conquest in stunned silence, my throat constricting. I wasn't sure if I wanted to cry or vomit. There he was. My 'best pal' Finny was hobbling along in the snow, head down, his skin flushed with heat. He didn't see us, or else he would have immediately come over whether his crutches agreed with the terrain or not, and for that I was grateful. I didn't know what I would do.

I turned back to Brinker. "You…?" Got there first.

He looked from Finny's retreating figure to me. "Fucked him," he said curtly. He smirked. "A little before he busted his leg. And when he finished, by the way, he shouted your name."

I cringed.

…

He was sitting on his cot, his leg propped up on my chair, and he gave me a bright smile. He looked only slightly worn out, but the walk to our dormitory wasn't very long. It was the cold that hurt him more than anything else.

"Gene!" he said. "I was wondering when you'd show up! I have a-"

I slapped him hard across his handsome face.

"Gene?" It was a whimper.

I slapped him again, and he drew back like a frightened woman, clutching his cheek. His eyes were already watering. I didn't expect him to hit back, and he didn't. He just stared at me, his eyes wide and filled with all sorts of unfamiliar emotions. Confusion, pain, fear…

"Gene?" he tried again, bracing himself.

"He told me."

"What on earth are you talking about!"

"Brinker!" I shouted. "He told me everything, Finny!"

The way Phineas looked then, I bet he would have ran if it hadn't been for his leg. He was so pale. He ducked his head, tears streaking the sides of his face. "I don't know what to say."

I wasn't sure how to feel. It was almost validation, wasn't it? He had betrayed me, lied to me, and he would have continued to do so if Brinker hadn't decided to open his big mouth.

"You let him fuck you," I snarled.

He flinched at the word.

"After everything, after the beach and just, well, everything, you let him have you!" I continued bitterly. "Do you know how much I wanted you! I spent weeks agonizing over whether or not I ought to kiss you and you're off fooling around with that arrogant prick!"

"We only did it once!" Finny cried. "And I wanted you, I did! But you were gone, and he was there, and he was kissing me and calling me such sweet things and the whole time I, I just kept my eyes closed because it was supposed to be you…I wanted him to smell like you."

I threw up my hands. "Why wasn't it me?"

He tried to stand, reaching for his crutches, but I pulled them away.

"Don't be cruel, Gene," Finny sighed. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, sniffling.

"He said that when you…" I swallowed. "…when you finished, you said my name?"

Finny blushed. "Yeah. I guess I'm lucky he didn't slap me."

It was my turn to flinch. "Did he hurt you at all?" I asked gently.

Finny smiled. "You don't have to protect me, Gene," he replied. "I think it was more…uncomfortable than anything else-"

My arms reached under his, pulling him to his feet. I held him against me, taking in his scent, threading my fingers through his soft hair. He groaned.

I loosened my grip.

"Did I hurt your leg?"

"No, you idiot, you didn't hurt my leg," he gasped, "and I'd like it very much if you'd kiss me. The way you did when I first got back."

I obliged.