Page 43 of Wonderstruck

Tutor and tutor-ee. Skater and training wheels. Finn and Rory.

But still, it was a nice thought.

As I skated to a stop in front of him,I wobbled again, my arms whirling behindme for a moment before I felt something grip them.

“Still Bambi,” he teased, and my eyesfell to his hands, curled aroundmy arms.

My lip sank into my teeth, chewing fora second before I let a giggle slip. Like I couldn't help it around him.

His warm hold sent a jolt throughme—not just warmth, but something sharper, more dangerous. And when reality hit me, I watched it hit him too, an soon enough he let go of me.

I looked away before I could spiral,the moment slipping through my fingers like water as I skated back, turning away from him with a half-smile.

And then, as if the ice itselfwhispered its permission, I leapt. My body moved as though my skates were attached to an invisible track, spinning through the crisp air. The single lutz wasn’t perfect, but it was mine—semi-clean, certain, but freeing in a way I’d forgotten how much I loved.

When my blades met the ice again, aspark ignited within me. Laughter spilt from my lips, echoingthrough the rink. I turned to Finn, hisgrin lighting up the space we shared. His eyes crinkled at the corners, warm and verdant, but there was still something from earlier that lingered. Something wary.

“Look at you, Bambi,” he called, hisvoice carrying across the ice. “You’re anatural."

And in that fleeting moment,with his words wrapping around me likea spell, I believed him.

1.Oh, shit!

chapter twelve

roll your r's and try not to fall for her

The living room was a battlefield, and I was losing.

Badly.

There was a pile oftextbooks teetering on the edge of the coffee table like they might stage a rebellion, socks in places socks had no business being, and Maple sprawled across the freshly folded laundry as though it were her personal throne.

“Maple, move,” I muttered, waving asock in her direction like a whiteflag of surrender. I would pick her up. She was only tiny. But she was very precious about her personal space you see, and wasn’t afraid to terrorise anyone who disturbed it.

Hence why Tristan's tattooed handswere peppered with tiny scratches.

I tossed the sock down the hallway,hoping she’d chase after it, but all she did was blink at me. I swear, for a second, I heard her thinking,You’ve already lost. Don’t embarrass yourself like the singer did.

“Wow. She’s not even flinching,” Jesse’s voice floated in from thedoorway, as Maple eyed me and curled the other way. I glanced up to find him leaning against the frame, his Blondie tee looking too cool for a guy who was eating a Pop-Tart straight out of the foil.

Beside him stood Tristan, clutching a takeout cup from Pin’s, dressed head-to-toe in black because, obviously, he’s contractually obligated to maintain his dark and brooding aesthetic. Heaven forbid he ever accidentally come within five feet of a cheerful colour and ruin it.

Probably why Goldie and her baby yellow thing made them so right.

“I’m not surprised,” Tristan said,smirking. “The cat knows this is all a show. You never clean.”

“I clean,” I shot back, grabbing ahalf-empty chip bag and hurling it behind the couch. “It’s just… selective cleaning. For special occasions.”

Jesse snorted, before stuffing hismouth. “Special occasion, huh? What, is Rory coming over or something?”

I froze. Just for a second. Longenough for them to both exchange a look like they’d caught me trying to hide a secret. Which, to be fair, they had.

“Oh, my God,” Jesse said, grinning likea madman. “She is, isn’t she?”

“No,” I said quickly. Too quickly.“Maybe.” My head fell back. “It’s not like that. She’s just… helping me with French.”

“And you’ve suddenly decided to deepclean because of… French.” Tristan raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You know, the last time I saw you do this much work was… actually, I’veneverseen you do this much work.”

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