Page 61 of Wonderstruck

I narrowed my eyes as I neared him,more playful than ever. “Cross-disciplinarydisaster?”

Finn smirked, shrugging with oneshoulder. “I have no idea. But it got you outof there didn’t it?”

I shook my head, my smile not budgingas the memory of what I’d just done flew through my mind. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“I can’t believe you left.”

Neither could I.

My head fell to the floor, gazing at thetips of both our shoes, before meetinghis glacier-green stare. “Thank you.” My heart pattered. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.’” He nodded his chin atme. “My loyalties to you and helping yoube happy again aren’t just limited to the ice, you know.”

I nodded. “I do now.”

We stayed silent for a second or two,only the fall breeze and the rustling of theleaves to keep us company before Finn asked, “So what are you going to do now you’re free?”

My head knocked to the side. “Free forone afternoon.”

“Well, we might have to make this aweekly occurrence if being out of there isgoing to make you smile like that.”

Hopes, stay grounded. Please. Don’tworship that talk like you did last year.Because look where that got you.

But it was hard to convince myselfthat he wasn’t trying to make up forlast year when he was doing stuff like this. Helping me skate. Checking up on me. Rescuing me from classes he knew for a fact weren't making me happy.

“We’ll see.” I shuffled on my feet,clutching my slipping laptop tighter. “And Ithink I might head to the rink early before rehearsal for the recital, treat myself to a private with Aspen if she’s free.”

We hadn’t scheduled any more time onthe ice, Finn and I, which made sense. Iwas with Aspen, training with her now. But that didn’t mean that I missed it. Having him there, like a silent safety net. I liked it.And I know I was about to call myself ahypocrite, because this wasn’t keepingmy hopes grounded, this was keeping them at the highest possible altitude where they could still survive. But I was feeling braver with Finn the longer I was around him.

My neck craned up to meet his stare. “But I think even one private might beenough for me to empty the savings thatI’ve got, and if I want to do well next week, I’ll need all the ice time I can get.” I kept my eyes on him as I asked, “Would you want to, maybe, help me rehearse after one of your practices?”

The way I watched all hope drain fromhis eyes made my heart sink, and beforeI knew it I was back in the restaurant, for Goldie’s birthday dinner, subtly leaning over in my chair to ask him out like the idiot I was.

The space between us dulled, like the sunwas too pure for this moment, and instead called on the shadows to orchestrate the mood.His head tipped forward, guilt and shameand every emotion in between filtering his face.

His lips glided open. “You have no idea how much I’d love to, Ror…” His hand scrubbed the back of his neck. “But I can’t. Not thisweek. It’s the Michigan Spartans game this weekend and coach is on our asses about winning so—”

“No, it’s okay.” I nodded, quicker than Iever had. “You don’t have to explain it.”

He shook his head, taking a step towardsme, the shadows that he naturally castfalling over me, but oddly they felt the same as how I did when I stood under the sunlight. “Actually, I do. Because I don’t want another repeat of last year.” He was so close our fingertips brushed as our hands dangled. But neither of us moved an inch. “I don’t want you to think that this is me pushing you away because it’s not, and I don’t want you to go disappearing on me again.”

My breath caught in the back of mythroat, but before I could so much as blink,his hand rose to the side of my face, his warm fingertips brushing a curl back behind my ear. “Et ça n’a rien à voir avec le fait que j’ai besoin de toi pour réussir mes examens."1 He took a second to think, his eyes wandering before falling back on me. "J’aime t’avoir à mes côtés, tout autant que j’aime être à tes côtés.”2

I thought my mind was playing tricks onme. There was no way that beautifullyspoken French, beautifully pronounced French, came from that man’s mouth.

I blinked up at him, seeing nothing but the sheer smugness plastered across his smile. But that smugness was every bit deserved. Because that? God, I wanted to ask him to repeat himself.

“Je suis impressionné.”3 I had to biteaway my smile.

Finn didn’t, however, his smile wasbrightening the empty hallway so much itfelt like the sun had finally peeked from behind the clouds. “J’ai un très bon tuteur.”4

I felt it then. What I felt last year when Isaw him for the first time. It was likethe weight of the world fell over me, my heart beating against my chest so fast that I was sure it was louder than the music, sure that everyone could hear how ridiculously taken back I was.

I suppose that weight, the sheer feeling that I was drawn to Finn, was what hadme asking him out. Now, if you ask the girls they’d tell you that it took a lot for me to convince them that I made the first move. Perhaps that was another reason why I sank into myself in the weeks, and months, afterwards.

Being vulnerable and having it thrownback in my face wasn’t something I could handle.

And it was happening again.

---