Page 3 of Wonderstruck

“I’m sorry,” I whispered into the air. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.I’m sorry.”

I strained my ears to wait for a response, but there never was one. Never would be one.

And I knew that. I knew I was apologising to something that probably didn’t exist. But that didn’t stop me from repeating it over in my head when my sobs clogged my throat, in the hopes that whoever was controlling my life would hear my pleas and maybe, hopefully, stop sending so much heartbreak my way.

Just for a while.

The august breeze hit my cheeks, drying them a little. The distant voices of thecongregation registered in my head once I was out of it, making me remember I couldn't hide here forever. To switch distractions I let my eyes settle on the rowof shops that made upMain Street. I let the pastel stripes of the storefronts, and the mountain range that surrounded the valley, distract me, leaning into the vague memories they brought up.

But after one blurry reminder of Mom and Dad, Icalled it.

I smoothed out the front of my black dress, trying tothink of other ways to prolong the quiet, then, as though someone had heard my cries and sent me exactly what I hadn't asked for, I spun round and saw him.

Dark green eyes. A billion and one freckles on his nose. Warm blonde hair catching in the breeze, long enough that it cascaded over his forhead. Broad shoulds. A stance as sturdy as the mountains. Shadows of the dimples that made me catch my breath just thinking about them.

I'd know Finn Rhodes anywhere. In every lifetime.

But that didn't mean I couldn't hear my heart cracking in the places he'd broken it as I locked my eyes with his.

I blinked.

No.No,it couldn’t be.

It was spooky how, at the same time I found him, or what I thought was him,his head lifted, like something was whispering in his ear that I was over here.It was even spookier that the only second I felt calm today was when his eyes fell on me, when his attention was mine and it was like the entire town had vanished, and all that existed was us, on opposite sides of the street.

I would have convinced myself that the apparitionwas down to me not having nearly enough sleep, but then I saw him shuffle. I saw the muscles in his arms move as his hair swayedin the breeze. He looked to the left, and the right, but before he could even commit to crossing the street, I spun on my tiny black heels, walking back into the sunlight with my arms wrapped around my waist.

I’d rather face this reality than the one where FinnRhodes existed, even if, in both, my heart was broken.

chapter two

can you ever fix someone who doesn't want to be fixed?

Ididn’t even remember walking up the porch steps. As though I'd blinked and bam, here I was, like I'd just come out of a dream. My boots were caked in mud, so I kicked them off and thudded them against the doorframe out of habit. Lined them up next to Grandpa’s like nothing had changed. Like I hadn’t just seen—

His gruff voice broke through the screen door, taking the reigns on my thoughts. No doubt he was deep into another Quebec Knights tale, probably holding an invisible stick and reenacting plays for an audience of one—Daisy. Crickets chirped outside like background noise, and the chickens weren’t even pretending to care.

I’d bet my student allowance that it was the ‘84 Stanley Cup playoff story. It always was.

My footsteps echoed in the entryway, and I followed the giggles that I knew werecoming from Daisy, where, sure enough, I found her blue-jean-covered legs dangling off the kitchen counter, and Grandpa leant back against the worktop.

I rushed up behind her, clearing my throat. “Weirdestthing, I think I just saw—”

“Shhh!” Her arms flailed and her uneven curls went wild as she faced me.“You’re interrupting the best part.”

My eye roll brough me back down to earth. “We’ve heardthis story eight thousand times.”

“You don’t even know which one it is.” Shehuffed.

I eyed her, before nodding my chin. “Twentybucks that it’s the 84 playoffs one.” The way she bit her cheek was all I needed to know I was right. “Hand it over.”

“You’re such a boy.” She huffed again, reaching into her back pocket and handing me a crumpled twenty dollar bill. “And whocares, I want to listen to it again, so, goodbye.” She waved me off with a sarcastic smile, before turning away from me. “Sorry, Grandpa. You were down to the last thirty seconds andddd… ”

“Andddd,” Grandpa drawled, and even though Iknew what he was about to say, I dropped the groceries on the worktop and rested my elbows down next to Daisy, propping my chin up with my cupped hands. “I get subbed on to cover Dubois, cause the boy could have passed for a scaredy cat when it came to shadowing, and then I get the puck, stick lift one of the Grizzlies defensemen,while I still have the puck I might add, and bolt down the ice before I can even take a breath.”

Like he remembered that he’d barely breathedwhilst recounting that, he took a second to catch his breath, and when I saw him go to take a sip from his mug, I tapped Daisy’sshoulder, lowering my voice. “Dais, I need to talk to you about—”

“Shutup, you’re gonna miss the best part.” Sheflapped her hands in my direction.

---