Daring the Wild Sparks

by Alexander, Ren

  After a minute, he quietly says, “Becks, I… You have no…” He sighs heavily and is then quiet.

  We sit in more silence without him attempting to finish his thought. What’s he thinking? Does he hate that he never can seem to escape the dreaded M subject? I worriedly examine him as he continues to stare out at the school. “Are you okay?”

  He glides a hand through his hair without turning to look at me. “There’s so much I wish I could change.”

  “About?”

  Looking somewhat ashamed, he quietly replies, “Me. I wish I didn’t feel the way I do about…things.” He warily glances at me, but his eyes don’t hold mine. “I want to make you happy, but all I do is disappoint you. I know you wish you had a man that would give you everything you want without any doubts.”

  “Sparks, I don’t want anyone else. You do make me happy. I told you at church I’m not going to bother you with...that…anymore.” Well, once more when I propose to him, but who knows how far off that is right now. At this rate, it’ll be another three years. Not if I can help it, though.

  He swiftly shakes his head. “No, you shouldn’t give up on it, Becks. That’s what you want. I don’t want you to give up on it just because of me. If you want it, then…” He stops and bows his head, looking down at his lap. He mutters, “Just don’t give up on it.” He slowly looks up at me. “I want to be the man that gives you everything you want. I’m trying, baby. You don’t know how much I am. I struggle with this every fucking day. It’s a constant battle for me.” He reaches for my hand in my lap. “Becks, don’t leave me. Don’t give up on me. I’ll get through this and…”

  I take my seatbelt off and shift in my seat to face him. “That’s the thing, Sparks. I don’t want you to change your mind out of obligation to me. I want you to change your mind because you want to. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do, even marrying me. I wish we were both on the same page, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you or stop loving you. I told your aunt the truth. We don’t have to be married to spend the rest of our lives together or for me to know that you love me. I won’t lie, it would be the icing on the cake, but I can still eat the delicious cake without it.”

  Can I?

  It’s like I’m trying to talk myself into believing what Finn believes.

  Leaning over to me with a gorgeous smile, he whispers, “I fucking love cake.” I giggle as he grasps the back of my head and gently pulls me to his lips.

  Ultimately stealing his lips away from mine, he twists in front of me as he reaches into the backseat, dragging a bulky, blue and white jacket between the seats. Straightening it out so I can see it better, he announces, “This is my varsity baseball jacket.”

  I touch the smooth, white sleeves, noticing a number 11 on the front. “You wore this?”

  He nods. “I brought it with me from my apartment to show you.”

  “Why didn’t you show me there? You didn’t have to bring it all the way here to show me.”

  “I wanted to show you in front of my school.”

  I confusingly smile. “Oh. Um, okay. How come you never showed me this before?”

  He props his wrist across the top of the steering wheel and shrugs. “I don’t know. I never thought of it until recently.”

  Painstakingly attempting to sound casual, I ask, “So, how many girls did you give this to?”

  He glances up from the jacket, his expression innocent. “Just one.” He told me he had slept with only one girl in high school, the girl he lost his virginity to.

  Curious, I ask, “Really? Was she a cheerleader?” I don’t remember if he said she was or not. Probably one of those baseball whores who showed him her tits and he couldn’t help himself.

  Cocking his head, he slowly shakes it, his smile even more mysterious. “No.”

  “Was it that girl you hid with in janitor closets so she could score an easy A and you could score…well…?” How do I want, and not want to know that at the same time?

  Finn narrows his gaze, but his smile doesn’t falter. “Not even close.” He’s being cagey as usual—his specialty. I know how to play this game too.

  I try, “Was the girl you gave this jacket to one of your first Finnatics?”

  His smile twitches on both sides and his cryptic eyes sparkle this time. “The very first that I ever noticed.” Hmm.

  I press on. “Did you kiss her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were you in love with her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did she have a nice ass?”

  His inscrutable façade slips and he laughs, crinkling his eyes. “Average.”

  Definitely playing with me.

  “Did you lose your virginity to this girl?”

  His laughing ceases, unsure if I’m on to him or not. He intently stares, hesitating before answering, “No.”

  Going in for the kill.

  “Did you fuck her after you graduated then?” I ask, trying to appear clueless. I’m 99 percent sure I know who he’s referring to, but if not, I probably sound stupid, pathetically losing this round.

  Finn’s jaw drops at my audacity and he adjusts his glasses, glancing around the car, biding his time, obviously thrown by that question. Got him! He thought I was naïve to the fact that he’s yanking my chain.

  I smile in glee, knowing I finally got one on him, that is, until he nails me with a smoldering look and wickedly whispers, “Every chance I get.”

  Damn it. He’s never off his game. I can never beat him.

  I lightly laugh, conceding that he’s more astute than I’ll ever be. “Really? Does this slut you’re cheating with have a name?” I joke, but what if he’s been playing an even more complex game with me than I gave him credit for and has me even more snowed than I anticipated?

  Or even worse, what if he is cheating on me?

  A trace of a smile touches his lips. “You mean, the girl who rocked my world?”

  I nervously laugh, but try not to let him notice. “Yes. What’s the hussy’s name?”

  He gives me a white, toothy grin, knowing he has me pinned to the ground. “Some people call her Hadley.” I’ll never get over the sound of my name wrapped in his sexy voice.

  I can’t help but grin at his cocky triumph, also feeling relieved it was me he was talking about “Good answer, Sparks.” I feign surprise, squealing, “You want me to wear this?” We laugh and he rolls his eyes at my never-present acting skills.

  “Yes, Becks. You. I mean, if you want to. You don’t have to actually wear it anywhere, but just know that it’s yours. You’re the one I want wearing it.”

  My grin doubles. “That is so damned sweet! I’ve never worn one.” Max Warren wasn’t the sporty type. I pick up the jacket and eagerly wriggle into it. I push up the sleeves and then pull my ponytail out from the back before peering up at him. “How do I look?”

  Finn stares at me, but doesn’t reply, similar to when he saw me wearing the dress I wore to church. “Do I look stupid?” I apprehensively ask. Maybe I look like a reject from Happy Days, Grease, Saved by the Bell, or The Mickey Mouse Club.

  He vaguely shakes his head. “No. You look ten times better than how I imagined you’d look wearing it. Wow, Becks.”

  I eye him doubtfully. “It’s an oversized jacket, Sparks. I’m not Cinderella dressed for the ball.”

  “You might as well be. Baseball was my life in high school. Seeing you with something connected to that, for me, it’s… mind-blowing.”

  “Jeez, Sparks. You really know how to say the right things to a girl. You must’ve had a lot of Finnatics following you around then too.”

  He lightly strokes my breast through the jacket. “I don’t know. I didn’t care.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugs and drops his hand. “I told you last night I didn’t care about that shit. There wasn’t anyone I wanted to date.”

  I’m pissing him off. Nice. “Okay.”

  He nods to the windshield. “You want
to take a look around?”

  “Sure.” He grabs the keys from the ignition and we both get out.

  He purposely walks over to my side of the car and I reach for his hand, but he clutches my shoulders instead, pulling me to him for a long kiss.

  Stepping back, he smiles at me as his hand finds mine. He leads me behind the building, where the football field and baseball diamond immediately stand out. Off in the distance, on the other side of the school, is the soccer field. Finn doesn’t mention it as we walk, so neither do I.

  He points to various locations. “Over there is where we used to eat lunch and gather for fire drills. Over in that side lot is where we practiced parking in Driver’s Ed. Then, over on the other side is where I sold drugs and ran a prostitution ring.”

  I gasp. “What?”

  He laughs and tugs on my hand. “I just wanted to see if you were paying attention.”

  I shake my head. “Hilarious, Sparks.”

  “I thought it was.” He pulls my hand up to his lips, kissing it, but then laughs again at his own joke, which makes me laugh and in turn, for him to laugh even harder.

  We reach the ball field and go to the metal bleachers. I look up at him and see his marbled hair blowing in the breeze. “So, are you going to show me how you looked on first base?”

  He gazes out to the field and then back to me. “In a minute.” He pulls on his varsity jacket, moving me up against him. “If you had gone to school with me, you would’ve been the one wearing this, along with my jersey.” Digging his right hand into his pocket, he pulls something out. “You also would’ve been wearing this.” He opens his hand and I see a big, gold ring with a bright blue, round stone.”

  I promptly look up to his face. “Your class ring?”

  He nods. “I didn’t have a girlfriend, but I knew the other guys were giving their rings to their girlfriends. They all wore my friends’ rings with yarn wrapped around them so they’d fit. Some of the girls made a big deal about changing the yarn. It was really weird.”

  “Some of my friends wore their boyfriends’ rings, too.”

  His gaze is suspicious. “You didn’t wear one?”

  Examining the ring, pinched between his fingers, I say, “No. He didn’t buy one.”

  “Oh. Well, you don’t have to wear mine. You can put it in your jewelry box. It’s yours too.” I pluck it from his fingers and immediately check out the graphics on the sides. One has a bat and a ball and the other has a soccer ball and a net, which makes me think of the reason why he didn’t play soccer for his school and how he still hasn’t told me about it.

  “So, what exactly does this mean? I have your jacket and your ring, but you haven’t asked me anything.”

  Fleetingly, I see panic ghosting his face, his brown eyes anxiously darting. “What did you want me to ask you?”

  “What was the reason you gave them to me?”

  His eyes continue to worriedly float over my face until he slowly nods, as he appears to comprehend what I’m asking of him. “Oh.” Swallowing hard, he slides his hands back and forth against each other. Suddenly, he looks like a nervous teenager, or like he did when he asked me the first time. “Um, Hadley, I was wondering if you’d…go with me. You know, be my girlfriend.”

  My face lights up and I giggle. That sounded so high school; therefore, more romantic than I could have ever envisioned it. “Is that really how you would’ve asked me?”

  Finn puts his hands on his hips and his eyes observe me, now looking defensive. “Yeah. Why? Isn’t that similar to how I asked you at the chocolate festival?”

  I nod as my smile widens. “Yes, but this one was so much cuter.”

  He flinches and his lips pull to the side in mock disgust. “Cuter? Shit. You already said I’m sweet. You make me out to be a pussy.”

  I quickly shake my head. “No way. Girls love that kind of thing.”

  “I don’t care about other girls. Just the one wearing my jacket and ring.”

  Smiling, I reach up to his neck, tugging for him to lean down, but he jerks his head back. “Hold on. You never answered my question.”

  My hands fly up to my cheeks, pretending to look panicked myself. “Oh! Hmm. I’ve already been asked that question by two other guys today. I’ll make my decision and let you all know tomorrow.”

  He puts his hands on his hips. “Now you’re the one who’s being hilarious, huh?”

  “I thought I was,” I tease him and giggle.

  He playfully glares at me. “You’d better answer my question or I’m going to take back my jacket and ring, and give them to some other girl.”

  “To the closet skank or to one that makes perfect pancakes?”

  He scowls at the first choice, but then nods and gives me a self-righteous smirk. “Oh, yeah. The golden, fluffy kind.”

  I pat his shoulder. “An easy slut then.”

  His eyes widen melodramatically. “Damn, I sure hope so.”

  I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing, but I should know that never works.

  Reaching behind me, Finn yanks on my ponytail and I gasp before laughing. He leans down and whispers against my forehead. “You know you want me. I see you staring at me in the halls, writing my name in your notebooks and hear you whispering to your friends about me.” His lips graze my skin as I laugh disbelievingly at his inflated ego.

  “I think you have me confused with another Finnatic.”

  I can feel his smile. “Nope. You know you can’t resist me.”

  Angling my head, I peer up at him defiantly. “I can’t?”

  His lips pull into a smug smile. “No way, baby.”

  “I think it may be the other way around. I heard things about you.”

  His eyes playfully harden as I fight not to laugh. “Oh, really? Like what?”

  “I heard you got a tattoo with my name on it.”

  Piously smirking, he shakes his head and coolly shrugs. “That’s purely speculation.”

  “It is? That’s a bummer.” Slinking my hands up his shirt, over his chest, I rest one hand on his shoulder and the other on his heart tattoo. “I find tattoos on a guy irresistible. They’re hot. Especially when it’s one with my name and on a guy who’s wearing glasses.”

  He briskly inhales. “Is that right?”

  I give him a forlorn smile. “Yes. It’s too bad I’m wrong about you. I think you’re really cute.”

  “I just can’t escape being cute in some way, can I? Fine. How cute am I?” He rolls his eyes and dramatically sighs, defeating his purpose of trying not to be cute, which is fucking hot.

  I curl my fingers, digging them into his shirt and skin underneath. “If I had gone to school with you, you would’ve been my hardcore crush. The kind that makes your stomach hurt, your heart ache and your mind to constantly flash pictures of that person nonstop in your head. The kind that makes you want to rush off to school in the morning just to get a glimpse of them at their locker or to get a good view of them in the cafeteria at lunch. The kind that if you have a class with them, all you can focus on is the side of their face or even the back of their head. The kind that makes you dread not seeing them on the weekends, holidays, and forget about torturous summer break.” I shyly smile and say, “I would’ve had a hard time not thinking about you. I would’ve wanted you to be my first and last.”

  Seeming astonished by that, Finn doesn’t blink, or breathe for that matter. Did I say something stupid? I tend to do that.

  Finally, he licks his lips and swallows. “Damn, Becks. Is that true? Do you mean that?” It was stupid.

  I gingerly nod, but am confident when I reply, “Without a doubt.”

  Still rather dubious, he asks, “How do you know you would’ve felt that way about me in high school?”

  I restlessly play with my jacket zipper. “Because that’s exactly how I felt after I met you. I watched you on TV and not in a cafeteria or at your locker, but I still missed you and wanted to talk to you more than just on the phone. I mean, some of the
details were different, but the feelings were absolutely the same.”

  His lips part and he stares at me without saying anything, so I timidly ask, “What?” Is he going to laugh at me or think he’s with a psycho?

  He clears his throat, his deep voice gruff when he says, “Hell. Becks, you just described how I felt about you.” Is he mocking me now?

  “Right.” Quickly turning away so he can’t see the impromptu sorrow glowing in my eyes, I hop up on the metal bench and look the opposite direction from him, pretending to fix my ponytail.

  Finn grabs my hips, spinning me around, holding onto me tightly so I don’t fall off the bench. I look down at his gorgeous face, the dim sunlight reflects off his glasses, but I can still see his soulful brown eyes. “Why do you think I stayed at the hospital? Why I called you every day after that? Why I was so…nervous asking you out? Why I was so desperate to make you mine on our first date? I couldn’t eat, sleep or think of anything except for you. If you look back at my broadcasts from the desk or the field that week, you would notice that something was on my mind besides scores and highlights. It was you that had me so distracted and…in love, Becks.”

  My mind wants to hear that; however, my heart needs reassuring still. Even after three years. All those women he can have… Why did he pick me? How do I measure up to the beautiful women he meets on the job?

  My gaze falls from his face to his chest. “I watched your broadcasts, but I didn’t notice anything different since I hadn’t been a fan of the News before we met; only catching it occasionally. You seemed to have smiled and chatted with people as usual. When I saw you in the ER, I knew you who you were, but I wasn’t going to approach you. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind at the time anyway to even brave that.” I look to his concerned expression. “I’m glad you were, though.”

  His hands slide from my hips to my butt, and I give him a small smile. “I’m glad, too, baby. I didn’t just suddenly fall in love with you on the phone. It started when I met you. Talking to you on the phone only made me realize it.”

  I look down at his face, his head bent back so he can look up at me. I slip my hands into his mottled hair and I sigh. “Even so, I guess I’ll have to go find a guy who loves my horrible pancakes and has my name tattooed on him.”