Page 21 of When He Saved Me
I pulled up my contacts and dialed Carmen.
“Finn?” she answered, worry in her tone.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Is everything okay? You never call me.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Nope. You always text. Never call.”
“Okay, fine. I never call. But I’m calling you now.”
“Right. So what’s wrong?”
I already regretted calling her. This conversation was ridiculous.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I just wanted to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Okay, now Iknowsomething’s wrong. What’s going on?”
I sighed. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid. Now that I’d called her and given her reason to be suspicious, she wasn’t going to let it go.
“I’m, um, on my way to Jamie’s.”
“Seriously? Oh my God, that’s awesome!” I winced as her excited squeals filled the interior of my car, her voice coming through the speakers. “How did this come about? Tell me everything.”
I rolled my eyes but told her about Jamie coming into the shop on Tuesday and giving me the invite. “I don’t know, CiCi. It feels weird barging in on their dinner like this. Maybe I should turn back.”
“Don’t you dare!” she exclaimed. “He invited you, didn’t he? He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t want you there.”
“I don’t know. It could be a pity invite. He’s a nice guy. Totally the type to collect random strays and invite them to dinner.”
“Oh my God, stop it! You are not a pity invite. The guy has been after you for weeks. He’s totally into you. Stop overthinking it and just enjoy yourself.”
Turning onto 56thParkway, I glanced at the GPS to ensure I had the house number correct. Three houses down the block, I found the house and pulled up on the curb.
“Well, I was right about one thing. He’s fucking rich. I’m about two blocks from Loose Park.” The historic neighborhood built in the 1910s and 20s consisted of million-dollar homes, many of which were listed on the national historic register. We had gone to school with kids in this area, though my parents lived a little farther away across the state line. I marveled that Jamie and I hadn’t crossed paths before now. I rested my head on the steering wheel.
“Okay, so? Why does that matter so much to you?”
“Do you not remember the people we grew up with? My parents? Their friends?”
“Your parents are narcissistic assholes. And yeah, we went to school with some entitled dicks, but not all rich people are like that.” Her voice softened, and I thought I could sense some hurt in her tone. “My parents aren’t like that.”
“Your parents are the best, CiCi, but in my experience, they’re the exception, not the norm.”
She let out a sigh. “Look, just do me a favor and give him a chance.”
“Why? For as much as I’ve tried to tell him no, you’ve pushed me toward him. You’ve never even met him. Why are you pushing this?”
“Because you wouldn’t have called if there wasn’t some part of you that wanted to see where this goes. Because while you’re so busy pushing everyone away, there’s a boy who cares enough to see past your bullshit. Because you deserve it, Finn. You deserve to be happy.”
There was an ache in my chest at her words. I felt hollowed out and raw and, dammit, near tears. What if she was wrong? What if I was fundamentally unlovable?
“I’m scared,” I whispered, head still resting on the steering wheel.
“I know, baby.”
