Finn's POV
**Saturday**
I've never realised how useful someone's sense of hearing can be.
For instance, I can tell it's raining outside just by the sounds of the wind and rain hitting the house, creating a white noise in my ears. I know it's five o'clock by the chimes of the old grandfather clock in the living room. I can hear the sound of Jake's chain leash clanking around outside, telling me I'm going to have a very wet dog in the house soon. I can tell that Mom's washing dishes from the recent early-dinner I had by the muffled radio playing in the kitchen below me, which she likes to listen to when cleaning.
I can even tell that my dad has just returned home from work by the crunching of the gravel made by his car's tires.
Standing up swiftly, I exit my bedroom and walk down the stairs one by one, counting as I descend so I that know when I'm on the main floor. Fourteen stairs later, I hit the bottom and turn left.
All day today, because I'm grounded and have nothing better to do, I've been exploring my house with fresh eyes -- well, no eyes I suppose -- making a mental map of my home. I've been counting steps, establishing points of significance (for example, the squeaky floorboard two steps before the turn into the living room), and tucking said points of significance in the corner of my mind in case I ever loose my barrings.
The creaking noise under my feet sounds and I take a couple more steps, turn, and walk into the kitchen confidentially. The Current is playing a song by Mumford and Sons on the radio and I can hear my dad set his work stuff on the kitchen table.
"Hey Finn, how was your Saturday?" Dad asks. He works everyday except Sundays, meaning his "weekend" starts now. But he's fine with his long work hours. He says he loves his job and that most of the time, it doesn't even feel like work; it's more like a day long private concert when he's doing recording sessions.
"Boring," I deadpan. How would you like to be cooped up all day with nothing but yourself to play with -- which I did not do because Mother dearest was home all day and I'm sure as hell not risking her catching me wank off.
His large hand pats me on the shoulder twice. "How about you have some friends over before we leave?"
Mom and Dad always have their 'date nights' on Saturdays. They think it'll keep their love stong; but I honestly think Mom bullied Dad into doing it.
Speaking of my mother, she smacks my dad's jacket loudly. "Marcus! He's grounded, remember?"
"But you said he could have friends over, only for a little while. Plus," his tone lowers until he thinks I can't hear him, "He's supposed to have a stress-free environment; I think having a visitor'll do him good."
Mom sighs and replies louder, "Alright Finn, you can invite one friend over -- but just one! And they have to leave before six."
I smile and pull out my phone, handing it to my mom. "Thanks Mom. Can you find Cora in the contacts and press call?"
Once she does, I put it to my hear and hear the ringing drone on, long and low. Cora's my cousin. She's also one of my best friends. She's a bit older that me at twenty-three, but she's the closest to me of all my cousins, but unlike my other cousins who live just down the court, Cora lives in the city by her college.
I frown when the ringing finally stops and goes to voice mail. She must be out or something. I could call Callum or Niall, my twin cousins, but they hardly go anywhere without each other and my mom said I could only have one friend over -- even if they are my cousins. And eleven year old Anne is a little young to relate to any of my problems, meaning we aren't that close.
"She's not picking up; could you find Caleb instead?" I hand Mom back my phone.
It's not like I like my cousins better than Caleb or anything. It's just that I haven't seen Cora or them since they visited me at the hospital, which is strange because the twins and I used to hang out almost constantly. Caleb's been visiting me (more like bugging me) at the hospital and at home for the past month and I feel bad for not spending enough time with my family, who are also my friends.
He picks up on the second ring. "Finny!" Wow can that boy squeal.
"Hi Caleb!" I giggle a little; Caleb always makes me really hyper. Just being around him is like being on crack. "Do you wanna come hang out at my house for a little bit? But Mom says you have to leave by six."
"She's an over controlling nipple. You shouldn't let her push you around like that -- your dad either," Caleb rants.
"They're my parents, Caleb," I roll my eyes, "They're supposed to be protective."
I hear him giggle like a chicken on shrooms. "I guess so. But yeah, I'd love to come! Be there in ten; bye, I love you!"
"Love ya too Caley!" I hang up before he can yell me out for calling him Caley.
Returning my phone to my pocket, I walk confidently through the halls and to my living room, thanking myself for taking the time to map out my whole house. It's not long before I hear the familiar crunching of gravel under tires outside. I hop up and open the front door before he can even ring the doorbell.
"Finny-boy! I haven't seen you in so long." Caleb whines, pulling me into a hug. I hug him back with one arm, my gimp hand just awkwardly placed between us.
I roll my ugly scarred eyes and say, "You just saw me a few days ago, bubby."
He giggles again. "I know."
I use my good arm to pull him up to my room. We plop down on my bed and snuggle into the soft duvet. We talk for a short while, him telling me the gossip at school and me telling him about my hand exercises and my method of getting around the house.
When I first met Caleb, he was still hiding the fact that he was gay from everyone, even though it was slightly obvious by the way he drools over other guys. He eventually came out to everyone and it made me so proud. We were in my room one day and he and Tyler and Chelsea had just gotten into a fight and I kissed him. I didn't fancy him or anything, I just wanted to make sure I only loved him as a best friend or a brother. He ended up being fine with it, even though he slightly freaked out for a while.
When our conversation dies out, we just sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. I can practically feel his eyes scanning my ugly, marred ones and my handicapped hand. "What's it like to be blind?" He asks timidly.
I fiddle with my fingers. "Its... Its a little weird. It's not like all I can see is blackness, like I thought it was going to be; I can still kind of see shifts in light."
"What do you mean?"
I think for a bit, trying to think of an example. "It's like when you have your eyelids closed while looking at the sun; you still know there's light behind them, but when you wave your hand in front of your face, you can block it out."
"Why is it like that?" He asks quietly.
"It's the scarring; that's what's blocking my vision."
Caleb goes quiet again. I stretch my fingers on my gimp hand using my good hand and massage my palm. "What about your hand? Does it bug you?"
Yes. "No, not really."
Caleb smacks my arm. "Don't lie to me Finny-boy, or I swear to potatoes I'll cut your dick off."
I smile, but it fades quickly. "It's not like it hurts or anything -- well, unless I do my exercises. But I guess It does make me really frustrated, knowing I can't do something as simple as pick up the remote or open a door with my left hand."
"It's okay, Finn. Your hand will get better event-"
"But what if it doesn't, Caleb?" I cut him off, sitting up in bed, "What if I'm never going to be able to use that hand again? I'm not helpless, Caleb. I'm not...." I trail off, pulling my knees to my chest and laying my head on top.
I can hear Caleb shuffle around, sitting up as well. A small hand rests itself on my back and rubs slowly, comfortingly. "I know you're not helpless, Finn; you're strong. I always see you holding your head high, never letting what other people say, get to you. You're so brave. I think it's amazing how you fix all your problems by yourself, never asking for help. But its okay to ask for help sometimes, Finny; you don't have to handle this all alone."
"But I don't want other people to think I'm weak," I mumble into my knees.
"Are you kidding me?! Finny, no one's going to think you're weak; you've got an actual reason to ask for help. What happened to you was terrible, but you don't have to make it worse by not acepting anyone's help."
I nod, head still buried into my sweat pants. "Thanks Caley."
"Buttmunch." Caleb states before pushing me off my own bed. I squeak when I hit the ground, but laugh, finding my best friend's arm, and pulling him down with me. Caleb falls beside me, laughing and play-wrestling.
We stop when we hear the door open and Mom's voice sounds through the room. "Boys, it's almost six; time for Caleb to go."
I nod and stand up, trying to catch my barrings. "Okay, thanks Ma. Caleb, I'll walk you down."
We start going down the stairs when the doorbell chimes merrily. Who the hell is coming over now?
"Oh!" Mom exclaims from in front of me on the stairway, "That must be your babysitter!"
I groan and hear Caleb snickering beside me. Slapping him on the arm, I stomp down the rest of the stairs angrily. But somewhere on the way down, I must've lost count of the steps. I slip and fall just one step from the bottom, faceplanting the hardwood floor.
Both my mom and Caleb gasp. "Finn!" Someone helps me up and I try to brush myself off and act all tough, but my face is hurting too much. I dig my palms into my watery eyes before anyone sees my tears of pain. The direct pressure to my scarred eyes makes me wince, but I can handle it.
I pull my hands away when the doorbell rings again. I'm sure my eyes are a little red, but it's no big deal. Mom frets over me some more, saying apologies even though she didn't really do anything.
"Mom, the door?" I remind her for the third time.
"Oh right!" I hear her shuffle to the door, opening it swiftly. "Yes, yes, come in! I'm so sorry for not answering the door right away; Finn here fell down the stairs."
I glare in my mother's direction. Great now my fucking babysitter probably thinks I'm incapable of even walking correctly. "That's quite alright Mrs. McCormick," says a very familiar voice. Where have I heard it bef-
"PATTY!" Caleb screams and runs towards the front door.
No. No, my babysitter is not Patrick, Claeb's asshole, homophobic brother. Just... no.
"Caleb, shut up, I'm busy."
"Please, call me Lydia," my mom says, "Okay so here's a list of all of Finn's rules...." There's some shuffling of paper and I can hear Caleb whisper a quiet "daaaaaaaaaaaaamn".
Oh jeeze.