We run like we’re being chased, hop into the car, and speed from the parking lot. Though, I have no idea where to go. But then Finn starts to give me directions. I follow his rights and lefts until a big building comes into view—the high school. He tells me where to drive until I’m parked in front of a large field, a soccer field.
My breathing has calmed, as well as my beating heart. I peer over at Finn, who already looks back at me. “Should we go find the big dipper?” he says.
“Sure.”
We walk to the center of the field. The grass is full and lush and I can see the silhouette of some hills just beyond. The sky is alight with a big moon and a canvas full of stars.
Finn slides the oxygen pack from his back, but keeps his cannula in place at his nose. He sits and sets the pack next to him. I sit on the other side of him and he reaches out for my hand before falling to his back.
The grass is cold against my skin and through my T-shirt. We stare at the biggest sky I’ve ever seen, Finn’s hand in mine. “What else would you do?” I ask.
He shifts his gaze from the sky to me, a wrinkle forming between his eyes.
“Pretend I’m Angelo—if it helps.” I raise one brow and Finn snorts a humorless laugh.
“Believe me, that’s impossible.”
I squeeze his right fingers clinging to my left.
He shuts his eyes. “I don’t know, Essie.”
“Yes, you do.” The words come out in a whisper. I stare at the sky, but hold my breath, waiting for him to speak.
“Maybe I’d hike,” he pauses like what he says is embarrassing, but then he clears his throat, “every trail in Jackson and sleep under the stars every chance I got.”
“And cook dinner over a fire?”
“Every chance I got.”
We stay there long past the time the concert should be over. It’s only when Finn’s machine beeps—telling us it will need to be charged soon—that we stand to leave.
I drive him home and walk him to the front of The Bookcase. The store is dark, besides my window and the upper floor.
“I think they’re waiting for you.”
He nods. “Thanks for the date, Esther.”
I bite my lip, knowing he has to go, knowing it’s impossible to stay out here all night. The beeping of his machine makes sure I know that. “You’re welcome.” I reach up on my toes and place a feather of a kiss on his cheek. “See you.”
25
Finn is still in bed when I get to work the next day. It’s one in the afternoon—I can’t remember the last time he slept this late. Danny’s at the register, flipping through a book whose title I can’t read past his fingers. The store is quiet, except for Marley upstairs.
She must be on the phone, because I hear her, but no one else. “I know it’s a waiting game,” she says and her tone is so un-Marley like. “You can’t give me any idea?”
Danny bites his bottom lip, his eyes flickering up to see me with the jangle of the door’s bell. “Hey, Esther.”
“Hi,” I say, but the word is small, I don’t want to miss what Marley is saying.
“I know all that. You’ve said that. But—” she pauses and Danny and I just sit there, holding our breathes. “He’s my son. If you could just—” Her voice breaks off.
“Excuse me,” Danny skips up the stairs, taking two at a time and then Marley’s sobs spill down into the store.
I flip the open sign on the door to closed and head toward the back of the store. I want to give them privacy, but I also want to walk as far from her cries as I can. I pick up a stack of books left by the last bookcase—the one next to the back alley door.
Marley’s voice carries down the stairs and past all the shelves just to punch me in the gut. “There has to be a better way. There has to be.”
I carry my load out the back door, closing it behind me until Marley’s cries disappear all together. I slide down the back of the brick building and sit on the dirty ground of the alley next to the trashcan. I pull my knees to my chest and lower my head to the books, spattering them with my tears.
I’m not sure how long I sit out there, crying for the boy who has stolen my heart, crying for his parents, crying for myself. But when I come in, the store sign is flipped to open again and Danny is shelving books.
“Marley went to work,” he says. “Finn’s gonna take the day off.”
I want to ask if I can go see him. But I can’t, not when he’s exhausted because I kept him out all night.
Hours later, I’ve only spoken to a handful of customers. It’s almost time for me to leave. My heart thumps like I’m in trouble, because maybe I am, but still I plant myself in front of Danny. He sorts through receipts, but looks up and smiles at me. “Could I go say goodbye to Finn?”
“Uh,” his eyes dart to the stairs and then back to me. “I—I guess. Maybe peek in. If he’s asleep—”
“I won’t wake him.” My head bobbles in a shake. “I promise.”
My legs feel like lead as I head up the red staircase. I don’t even see the second floor as I trudge through and up the next set of stairs. Finn’s door is slightly ajar. I push on it just a bit, poking my head inside.
Finn lays in his bed, one thin blanket over his legs and two pillows behind his back. The drapes are closed and the only light in the room comes from his television. It’s too dark, I think his eyes are closed, but I slip into the room anyway.
“Whoa,” he says, grabbing at his chest. “Esther, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
I yelp at his sudden awareness. “Seriously poor choice of words,” I blurt, shaking out my nervous hands.
He chuckles through a cough. “Where’ve you been?”
I stand back by the door and swallow down my nerves. “Just working. Danny said you were resting.”
“And you let that stop you?”
I fist my hands at my sides. “Finn, I’m sorry. Last night was too much.”
I expect him to get mad. Or maybe his beany will crawl out from under his blanket and plant itself on his head. But he just looks at me. “You have to come to me. I don’t have pants on—I don’t think we’re at that stage in our relationship yet.”
I snort out a laugh I didn’t know was coming and cover my mouth. I’m not afraid of him. I’m more afraid of myself. Every time I touch him he seems to get worse. “Are you sure?”
“I guess I could get up.” He pushes himself up.
“No, no!” I hold out my hands and slide across the carpet. My cheeks burn with a flush I’m certain Finn can’t see in this dim room, but he chuckles at me anyway.
He holds out his remote control and the TV mutes. Dropping it to the bed, Finn reaches the same hand out to me and I lace my fingers with his. “Sit down.”
I blow out a sigh, my chest thumping. I run my free hand over my head and down my cheek.
His brows furrow. “What’s wrong with you?”
His room feels too warm and I wish I could open a window. My throat aches and I’m afraid I’ll cry if I speak, but he stares pointedly at me, waiting. “It’s—it’s like I’m doing this to you. Every time I touch you… you get sick.” I stare at the blue of his bedspread, my vision blurring.