“When is the play happening?” Dad wipes his hands on a napkin and leans forward.
“Not until spring time. I think the opening is in April, but to be honest when Mr. Rochester goes on one of his dramatic rants I’m only half-listening.”
“Violet.”
My mother again with the scolding.
I shrug innocently. “He’s my favorite teacher, but he’s still crazy.”
She sighs heavily, but is fighting a smile so I know she’s not too irritated with me.
“That’s months away,” my dad exclaims in disbelief.
“Practice, practice, practice,” I mime Mr. Rochester’s tone, which he uses when one of the actors does something he doesn’t approve of or forgets a line. It’s usually followed by you’re a bunch of dimwitted teenagers. How did I end up subjected to this non-sense. I should’ve went to culinary school. God knows I would’ve been better than Gordon Ramsey.
“I’m sure a play takes a lot of time to learn the lines and directions and everything,” my mom interjects. “By April everything should be perfect.”
I really hope she’s right, because Mr. Rochester is likely to have a stroke if it’s not.
“It’s a big commitment,” I agree, “but I don’t regret doing it. I wasn’t expecting the lead, but I know Mr. Rochester wouldn’t give it to me if he didn’t think I wasn’t the best person for the role so I’m hoping I can pull it off. I’m enjoying acting way more than I ever thought I would. It started out as something to distract me, but now … I can’t explain it.” I trail off, and take a couple bites of food, quiet descending over the table.
As the quiet settles, it feels heavy. My dad clears his throat and reaches over, squeezing my hand that rests on the table.
“We’re proud of you, you know that, right?”
I give him a small smile. “Yeah, I know, Dad.”
His eyes are sad and serious as he speaks. “I know things haven’t been easy since Luna’s passing, and your mom and I aren’t always the best at communicating our thoughts and feelings, but we really are proud of the woman you’ve become. You’re strong, determined, beautiful, and with the biggest heart of anyone I know. You’re one in a million, Vi, don’t ever let anyone make you feel any less.”
“Stop getting sappy on me,” I chide good-naturedly. “You’re going to make me cry, and this is Thanksgiving. No tears on a holiday, it’s like a rule or something.”
He squeezes my hand and lets go.
We finish our meal and the three of us clean up together. Conversation is light, the heaviness gone, and I have to admit I’m enjoying the time spent with them. I was worried today would be harder than it has been, and it’s made this fear settle into the pit of my stomach.
Are we getting used to Luna’s absence?
Are we adjusting?
Are we only a breath away from forgetting her completely?
Chapter Twenty-Three
My phone vibrates on my bed with a text message and I roll over from the required reading I’m trying to finish—gotta love Mr. Rochester for giving an assignment over break—and am surprised when I see Finn’s name on my phone. We’ve exchanged numbers, but haven’t texted much, barely at all.
Finn: Save me.
Me: From what?
Finn: My family. They want to play charades.
Me: Lol. Can you sneak out?
Finn: I’m trapped on the couch. I’m certain my sister is acting out a dying cat. Her facial expressions are definitely something dying.
Me: Maybe she’s Bambi’s mom?
Finn: That’s cold, Violet.
Finn: I guessed that and you were right. Not a dying cat after all, but a deer.
Me: Ooh, look at me. I’m good at this.
Finn: My brother just asked me who I’m talking to and smiling like a doofus?
Me: Oh, did he now?
Finn: I told him my girlfriend.
My breath freezes in my lungs. Air. What is air? Right, that thing I need to live, except at this moment none can be found.
Finn: Is that okay? I’ll tell him I’m mistaken if you don’t want to be.
Finn: Be my girlfriend that is.
Finn: Violet? Did I mess up? You know I’m no good at this stuff.
Me: You surprised me. That’s all. I would love to be your girlfriend.
Finn stops replying and I worry my bottom lip between my teeth.
Finn: Yo, this is Finn’s brother. I’ve commandeered his phone. He says you’re his girlfriend and live next door. So like, if that’s true, come on over.
Me: See you in a few, Husten.
Finn: Fuck, you know my name. You must be real.
I climb off my bed, tucking my phone into my jeans. I yank on some boots, grab a sweatshirt, and holler to my parents that I’m going to Finn’s before I head out into the snowy cold. Thank God his house is next door. I would turn into a popsicle if it wasn’t.
I reach the front door and before I can knock it swings open, two people standing there eagerly to meet me.
“You must be Husten and Della.” It would be impossible for them to not be. The resemblance is uncanny. They have the same dark hair and blue eyes as Finn. Neither wears glasses, though, and Husten has a light coating of scruff on his cheeks. Della yanks me inside, wrapping her thin arms around me.
“Wow,” she exhales almost dreamily, “our little Finnley has a real life, flesh and blood girlfriend. I never thought I’d see the day.” When she lets me go I swear her eyes are swimming with tears. Her skin is a creamier shade than Finn’s and her nose more upturned. She’s beautiful, tall with a dancer’s body.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Husten holds out a hand and I shake it. His grip is strong, and I’m sure his heavy university sweatshirt hides his bulk.
“Leave her alone,” Finn pleads, appearing with Jack at his heels. He grabs for my hand and pulls me against his side.
I don’t think he’s aware of how he cradles me protectively against him.
“It’s fine,” I assure him, pressing a kiss to his smooth cheek, my left palm flat against his chest. “We’re just getting to know each other.”
A displeased breath passes through his lips and his siblings stand in front of us with delighted smiles.
“Do you want to join us for charades?” Della addresses me. Her long black hair falls over her shoulders, nearly to her belly button. “Mom’s already in bed, so you and Finn can be on a team, and Husten and I on the other.”
Husten knocks his elbow into hers. “I don’t know. Maybe we should divide the lovebirds?”
Finn takes my hand, his hold surprisingly tight and firm. “Violet is on my team. Don’t even think about stealing her.”
Husten raises his hands innocently and exchanges a look with Della. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Finnley.”
Finn and I follow his siblings down into a finished basement, complete with theatre seats and a giant screen. In the other corner there’s a pinball machine and a few arcade games.
“This is cool,” I remark, taking everything in.
“It’s home.” Della smiles as she takes a seat.
Finn and I sit down as well, and he eyes his siblings warily. I squeeze his hand in reassurance and he flashes a small hesitant smile.
“You’re up first.” Husten points at me.
“Me? Not fair,” I grumble good-naturedly.
“How we play it here is, you have one minute to act out as many things as you can. Your partner is allowed three guesses. If they’re all wrong, move on to another one. Each correct guess is a point for your team.” Husten runs through the rules rapidly. “And you pick them from there.” He indicates the large bowl sitting on a stool in front of the TV screen. Dramatically, he adds, “May the odds be ever in your favor.”
“Thanks, Effie,” I reply with a wink.
Holding my fist out to Finn he’s slow to bump his against mine. “We’ve got this. They’re going down.”
He grins wholly at my game-winning attitude.
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Standing, I head to the bowl and pull out a slip of paper with unfamiliar handwriting.
Can-Can Dance
I toss the piece of paper on the floor as Husten starts the timer. I begin the dance and Finn starts blabbering out words.
“Dance. Old dance?”
“One more chance,” Husten interjects.
“Can-Can?” Finn’s voice is puzzled but I clap and give a thumbs up, quickly grabbing another slip of paper.
Titanic (the movie)
I mime climbing up a railing and holding out my arms, a look of wonder on my face.
“Jack and Rose!” Finn shouts. I shake my head. “Titanic?”
I snap my fingers and grab another slip of paper as Husten informs us there are thirty seconds left. My heart races like I’m on a game show. My competitive side is rearing its head.
Oliver Queen
I mime shooting an arrow.
“Archer? Katniss? The Hunger Games?”
I quickly grab another.
Lord of the Rings
I mime Gollum and I’m not surprised when that’s Finn’s first guess.
“Lord of the Rings? The ring?”
As the time cuts off I jump and down. “Three points for us!”
I switch places with Della and Husten passes me his phone so I can keep track of the time. Once Della looks at her piece of paper I start the timer.
We go back and forth for the next hour and at the end, tally up the points.
“We won!” I cry, jumping into Finn’s arms.
He’s taken by surprise, rocking back, but manages to grab me and hold on.
“By one point,” Husten defends. “One.” He wags one finger behind Finn. “I demand a rematch before we leave Sunday.
I laugh as Finn sets me on my feet. “Whatever you want.”
“You want to come back over?” Finn’s surprise is palpable, and even now he can’t comprehend how I like him.
“Of course.” I bend down and rub Jack on top of his head. “I like hanging out with you—and you guys too,” I add to his siblings who both can’t stop smiling as they watch Finn and me.
“I’m just glad to see Finny is growing up,” Husten jests, ruffling his brother’s hair.
Finn grumbles under his breath and swats him away.
“Come on, Violet.” Finn tugs me away. “I’m tired of dealing with them.”
His siblings shake their heads. Finn’s tone is deadpan but I also don’t think he’s quite serious.
He leads me upstairs and nods toward the upper level. “I … I want to show you my room.”
“Okay, lead the way.”
I barely got a peek at his room months ago when I showed up to ask him to go for coffee and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to get a peek at this private part of Finn’s life.
He hooks his finger in mine and guides me upstairs and pauses outside his room.
“It’s kind of dorky.” His cheeks flush. “But it’s my space.”
He pushes the door open and my breath catches at the sight before me. There’s a projector set up and stars glimmer over every surface of his bedroom. His queen-size bed is against the right wall in front of a mural of outer space, all the planets painted accurately and not in kid colors. The other walls are black chalkboard paint and Finn’s drawings and handwriting cover most of the surface.
“Space, the stars, all of it—it’s not just a hobby. It’s my life. My future.”
I spin around in awe, taking in all of the pinpoints of light marking stars.
“When it’s too cold to look at the stars, I have this. It’s not as good as the real thing, but it’s something.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Come here.” He tugs me down onto the big fluffy gray rug covering the wood floors.
Just like outside in the meadow, we lie down side by side and hook our pinkies together. In the corner, Jack climbs into his bed, walking in three circles before he plops.
As we lie there, Finn points out different stars, the same ones he’s shown me in the real night sky. They look different here, a little too perfect, but I can see why he loves this. It’s a good substitute now that the snow keeps us from spending our nights lying in the grass together. I miss those times, especially now that things are much easier between us.
I roll over onto my side and burrow against Finn, resting my head on his chest. He stiffens in surprise at first, but then relaxes and wraps his right arm around me. He rubs my arm lazily and I feel his lips press a light kiss to my forehead.
“I like spending time with you,” he murmurs, as I hook my leg around his, wiggling impossibly closer to him.
“I like spending time with you too.” He has no idea how much. When I’m with Finn I feel like I’m home.
“I think you’re my person, Violet.”
My heart lurches in surprise at his words. I didn’t expect them at all.
I raise my head slightly, staring into his eyes. He looks back, no longer afraid to make eye contact with me like he was before. He doesn’t hold it for long, but the connection is enough.
“I know you’re my person, Finn.”
I kiss him slowly, ending it far quicker than I want to thanks to his mom and siblings being in the house. I need to go home soon, but for now, I return to my previous position and get lost in the stars projected on the ceiling, him, and hopes for a future I probably shouldn’t dare dream of.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Thank you guys for meeting up with me,” Lydia beams, her fingers wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate. My own clasp a cup of my beloved chai tea latte, courtesy of Finn.
“This should be fun. I’ve never ice skated before, so I’ll probably fall flat on my face, but I’m excited.” I watch the people already on the ice, including Husten and Della who skate like seasoned pros. Finn and I met up with Lydia at the coffee shop before walking over.
“That’s your brother, right?” Lydia points, her cheeks turning pink and I’m not sure it’s from the cold.
“Yeah, Husten, and my sister, Della.”
Both of them wave from the ice, sensing us watching.
“I don’t think I could wave and skate,” I remark. “I think I’ll be hugging the side the whole time.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Finn scoffs, looking mildly offended. “I’ll help you.”
“Is that so?” I smile up at him, thrilled by the idea of Finn teaching me to skate.
Lydia pretends to gag. “You guys are so sweet I’m getting a stomach ache.”
“We better get our skates rented.” I indicate the stand and Lydia nods in agreement.
“The line was a lot longer when I pulled up to the coffee shop, so it’s probably smart to get in it before there’s another rush.”
The three of us walk over to the line, only eight people in front of us, and make light conversation about our holiday, break, and the play.
Once we have our skates in hand we switch into them and tuck our winter boots into one of the cubbies behind the pop up stand.
I’m nervous of injuring myself, but Finn’s confidence in his ability to teach me helps assuage some of my worries.
We step onto the ice and immediately my feet go out from under me. I brace for the impact of my ass colliding with the ice, but Finn grabs me, holding me up. He helps me get my balance and I grip the edge of the rink as Lydia skates past us, joining Husten and Della. I grin to myself when I see her ask Husten something.
I sense a crush stirring up.
“Hold onto my hand,” Finn tells me, “and we’ll skate. One foot in front of the other, slowly. Glide your foot back and forth, letting them propel you along. If you start to fall grab me. I’ve got you, Violet.” With one gloved hand he cups my cheek. I’m sure they’re both bright red from the frigid cold. I’m a Texas girl through and through. “I won’t let you fall,” he vows, his eyes serious behind his glasses. “I’m here to hold you up.”
“I trust you,” I whisper, and hi
s shy smile makes butterflies explode in my stomach.
The feeling in my chest for Finn is growing stronger every day. I’m terrified to put a word to it yet even though deep down I know what it means.
Tightening my hold on his hand—which is difficult considering our thick gloves—I let him lead me away from the side I so desperately want to stay beside.
His voice echoes in my head, telling me what to do.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs beside me, his voice steady and warm. His tone is encouraging and I remind myself I can do anything I set my mind to. I might need his help right now, but before we leave I’m going to skate by myself. “You’re doing great,” he continues, and then right on cue my feet start to lose control.
Finn’s hold on me tightens and my nails claw into his down coat. I know falling isn’t the biggest deal, if you fall you get back up, but I’m mostly afraid of my butt bruising and getting ice-burn. I don’t know if ice-burn is actually a thing, but the idea of it is dreadful enough.
“I won’t let you fall,” he vows, and swings around, taking my other hand in his free one so he’s skating in front of me and sort of pulling me along.
“How long have you been skating?” I figure if I ask him questions I won’t worry so much about hurting myself.
“Since I was really small. It’s kind of a necessity around here. You learn to walk and skate at the same time.”
“Were you afraid?” I don’t know why I feel the need to ask him that, it’s not as if the answer is really going to make much of a difference.
He shakes his head. “I was too young to feel fear. Fear is learned. Some things are instinctual, based on survival, like knowing if you jump from too high of a height you’ll die, or the way you can hold your breath but your body will force you to seek air. But when it comes to things like this, being afraid is silly. The only thing to be frightened of is yourself. Only we have the ability to hold ourselves back. We all do it, it’s natural.”
“How do you move past that? That … inner block?”
He continues to skate backwards, easily thwarting our fellow skaters. I glide along with him.
Whatever Happens Page 13
