Page 80 of Wonderstruck

My lip sank between my teeth.

One of thelesserperks of calling this guy mybest friend was that he could read me like a book. Meaning that secrets were pointless things because I was never going to be able to hide jack-shit from him. And that was a two-way street.

“She’s bringing out the best parts of you thatnone of the others ever got a chance to see. What I grew up seeing.”

Flashes of our childhood invaded my train of thought. Summers in thefields, trying and failing to ride the horses, skimming stones at the creek and trying to teach Daisy how to skate after school. Things felt so much simpler when the only worry we had was what the weather was going to be like tomorrow, but knowing that if it rained we’d still make it our mission to make it the best day ever.

I remember running on nothing but optimism, thekind that wasn’t slashed by the real world. And I remember that version of myself slowly fading after Mom died. After the world became real and the magic was spoiled.And I suppose along the way I let it change meso much that thinking of that boy was like thinking about a past life.

I guess I hadn’t thought about what my vowswere doing to everyone else. I assumed that as long as I was protecting myself, what the world thought of me didn’t matter.

Not an asshole.

Was I an asshole last year?

“I’m sorry.” I looked down at Jess. “If I’vebeen weird, or an asshole. I didn’t realise it but… now that I’m thinking about it I think you might be right.”

Jess raised a brow at me. “I’m always right.”

I huffed. “And I’m positive you’ll never let meforget it, you ass.”

We both chuckled, the only sound between usbeing the faint motor of the heaters, before I felt Jess’s eyes wander, his brows perking. “I know I should have said something about it last year, but sometimes—now don’t hate me for saying this— it was like you had this alter ego, some weird mask you put on to hide who you really were.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I was hidingwho I was, I think it was more along the lines of protecting what parts of me I could hold onto before I lost them for good.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” He said,reaching for his stick with a groan.

I didn’t budge, but I felt my jaw tick. “Well itdoes to me.”

“Right.” His narrowed eyes were back on me as a laugh escaped him. "Andprotecting yourselfmeant bed hopping after every game of the season?”

Myeyes fell south and zeroed in on the rubberfloor, something guttural dropped in my stomach. Grounding me with reality.

“That’s not what it was like.” I gritted out, thewords sour as they left me.

Probably because that’s exactly what it waslike, but you don’t want to admit that because you feel guilty.

“Of course it was.” Jess leaned forward, hislaugh anything but the kind I’m used to. “Youdoknow that all of this is coming from a place of love, right?"

I scoffed. "Yeah, okay."

His head dropped, and that pang of guilt I felt when him and Tristan locked me out in the hallway came flooding back. "All I’m trying to say is that I’m happy you’ve come to your fucking senses and have stopped pretending that sleeping around is what you want just so you don’t become him.”

My eyes clamped shut, as though it wouldblock out everything he was saying. Everything I probably needed to hear.

I know. I know. It was stupid. And trust me, I regret it. But the bed-hopping phase was exactly that—aphase. Something I did to selfishly relieve stress whilst also forbidding myself to latch on. Turn them into something that they weren’t.And it had worked. For a while. Until Irealised that doing that was only going to hurt someone in the long run and I stopped.

You can stop with that look now.

“You’re not him, you know.” I swallowed.Hard. “If that’s what you're scared of.” He shook his head, like he couldn’t believe I still thought this way. “I don’t think you’re capable of it, regardless of what you tell yourself.”

My back straightened, my hands fumblingover each other. “How do you know?”

He shrugged, his gear rattling. “Because I know you. And Iknow your Dad.” His head shook again. “And I just know that you’re not like him. Not one bit.”He stretched up until we were at eye level, andhis hand was on my arm. “And the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can stop pretending that you don’t like her.” His head pulled back. “All I saw last year whenever we were all together, with the girls, was you looking for her. And when she wasn’t there it was like you were having this internal battle with yourself. It was obvious as anything.”

“Obvious to you, or to everyone?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. But the point isthat you wereprotectingyourselffor nothing because you aren’t him, Finn. So saying no to her–”

---