Page 37 of Wonderstruck

A laugh slipped out as he looked down, grinning wide enough to show off that traitor of a dimple. When he looked at me again, it was with the kind of smile that could cause trouble. “See!” He giggled. “I suck. And I need help, otherwise, Burton willprobablybehead me, but I was trying to say I’ll be off the team if I don’t get my act together.”

I shook my head. “But I thought—”

“I need a tutor.” His face was sobashful, like admitting this was hurting him. Sure he was smiling but looking deeper it was clear. He wouldn't be telling me if he wasn't desperate. And I had a feeling that he was.

The first night we met, at the freshmanevent, flashed across my mind in a heartbeat.

“You’re studying French?”

“Yeah… yeah, I am.”

“Oh, well, I’m fluent, so if you ever needhelp…”

I had offered to help him.

Why thehelldid I offer to help him?

Probably because within a minute ofknowing him you liked him enough to know thatyou’d do anything he asked, you loser.

“Oh.” Was all I could say, not knowinghow or even if I wanted to entertain thissubject. But I was curious. “And if I tutored you, you would…?”

He took a step closer, his featuresimpossible not to trace now. His voice was low as he said, “Get you back out on the ice.”

Before I could even imagine it, he leaned his body closer. “Before you spend your money on classes and privates, why don’t you make sure that it’s something that you’re sure you want. What if you pay for those classes and it’s not what you thought it would feel like?” He gave me a second or two to think that over, and I understood where he was coming from. Throwing away money that I could use to, you know, live, would be pointless.

I looked back at him as his mouthparted. “Let me keep you after practice next week. No one will be here apart from us, and you can skate. I’ll even hang out in the changing rooms if you want to be on your own. Or if you love it and you want my help… I’ll be there.” He smiled down at me. “But don’t jump into it head first with everything you have if you aren’t sure, Ror.”

The one-minute buzzer sounded, forcingmy eyes up to the screen above the rink, but if anything it gave me a second to breathe, to think. And one thought came crashing down on me as I twisted my head back to face him. “I appreciate the offer, I do, but I need to get back into delicate skating, figure skating, not sprints and how to nearly kill the other team on the ice without falling on my ass—”

“I used to figure skate.” My brows rose,and my mouth popped open, but before I could say anything, Finn rushed, “I did it for a year when I was seven and I got a bit too into Skating With The Stars, but the point still stands,” He smiled at me. “I can delicate skate if I want to.”

My arms folded around my waist. "Looks like we both kept secrets from each other last year."

His face went still, but that mischievous shade of his eyes glimmered as he knocked his head to the side. "Looks like it."

I let my head fall back, resting it against the concrete I was basically fused to by now, and took a second to process how absolutely ridiculous this conversation was.

Because somehow, I was standing under Finn Rhodes—Finn Rhodes—while he pitched the idea that us helping each other was not only logical, butsmart.

I let out a laugh and shook my head, the weight of reality pressing down on my chest, just as tightly as my outfit was. "Okay, and what happens if Ilove being out there? What happens if it makes me feel good?” I shrugged. “I’d still have to come back here and cheer to pay for Aspen’s classes—”

“Let me pay you for tutoring me.”

A cackle fell out of me as I rolled myeyes, my head landing against the concrete. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” He shrugged. “If I hiredsomeone else I’d have to pay them.”

“Because…” The rest of the sentence vanished the second he looked down at me, all the usual mischief wiped clean from his face.

I barely had time to blink before he spoke again, his eyes locking on mine like he already knew the answer I hadn’t said.

“You tutor me,” he said, voice low but certain, “and I’ll get you private ice time, so you don't have to dance for that asshole.”

My mouth opened, then closed. Words failed. Logic short-circuited. My brain was still mid-sprint, trying to catch up with what he’d just said—what he’doffered.

“You’re serious,” I whispered, even though I already knew the answer.

Hiseyes didn’t leave mine. "Of course,” he said, and this time, there was no shrug. No smirk. Just a promise written across his face like it was already done.

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