“Oh,” I say. My voice is shaking. I swallow.
“You’re okay,” he says. “I’ll catch you if we start to go too far.”
He helps me turns us around a corner and then another. We circle several blocks and then he takes us back to Main Street.
“Do you want to go on the highway?”
“No,” I say.
“Too bad,” he says. His hands press down on mine as he forces me to turn us toward the on ramp.
“Oh my God,” I say. Finny takes my right hand off the wheel and places it on the gearshift. “Oh my God,” I say again.
“It’s okay,” he says. “I’ve got you.” He presses on my hand again and we change gears. My palms are sweating but his are hot and firm. The highway is nearly empty and the road stretches in front of us uninterrupted.
78
I’m surprised the next time Sylvie calls when I am with him. I had somehow forgotten her. I had somehow forgotten that the world was larger than just us.
We’re watching a movie on my couch. I pause it as he says “Hello,” and that’s how I know that it’s her—the way he says it. He also says “uh-huh” five times, and “that’s cool” twice. He says “nothing much” once and glances at me. I look back at him and keep looking after he has turned away from me again.
“Okay,” Finny says, “I’ll remember.” He hangs up. “You can push play,” he says to me.
“Was that Sylvie?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” I don’t know what I mean by that, but Finny answers me anyway.
“I can’t break up with her over the phone.”
“I didn’t say you should,” I say.
“Well, you just—never mind.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Finny says.
“I was thinking that it was weird how you’re going to break up with her but she still calls—I mean, it makes sense ’cause she doesn’t know, but it’s weird.”
“I guess so,” he says. I look down at the remote control in my hands, but I don’t push play.
“You never told me,” I say.
“What?” His quiet voice matches mine.
“Why,” I say. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t shrug. He doesn’t look over at me. He has not moved since he told me to push play. I wait.
“She’s not who I want to be with,” he says “She’s not—that’s all.”
“Okay,” I say, and I nod, as if he has said a lot more. He looks up at me now.
“Do you miss Jamie?” His question startles me; I can see Finny studying the reaction on my face.
“I don’t know,” I say, because I want to tell him the truth. “I don’t want to say yes because I don’t want him back, but I can’t say no either because I do care about him still. He’s still Jamie.”
“Do you love him?” I shake my head.
“I’m not in love with him.” We are quiet again, and I think what a relief it is, how strange it is, to say that I am not in love with Jamie.
“Why are you smiling?” Finny says to me.
“I don’t love Jamie,” I say, and I laugh because it sounds so funny to say.
“I’m glad that you’re happy,” Finny says.
“I am,” I say. “Actually, I’ve been really happy.”
Finny’s eyes soften, and we’re looking at each other.
It was another moment when one of us could have said something, could have given us time, but neither of us did. We looked at each other until I couldn’t bear it anymore.
“We should finish this and then go get something to eat,” I say. We’ve invented a new meal, one that takes place after midnight and before dawn, and we rarely ever miss it. It’s more time that we can spend together without saying what we should.
“Good idea,” Finny says, but it isn’t. Sylvie will be home soon.
79
Finny and I stand in the driveway as the car pulls away. I wave and Finny just watches them. My parent’s divorce was finalized today. Coincidently, The Mothers are going to a winery for the weekend. They gave us a hundred dollars for just two days, and Jack is coming over later. We’re going to have pizza and alcohol for dinner and probably stay up all night.
“This is going to be fun,” I say.
“Yeah,” Finny says, and it reminds me of the way he used to say “yeah” to Sylvie at the bus stop as she prattled on and on. I always suspected—no, I just wanted to believe—that he was bored with her.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says. I look up at him. He’s still staring at the driveway.
“I think I’m going to go over to my house and write,” I say. He looks down at me then.
“Oh, okay,” he says.
“Send me a text when Jack comes over,” I say. “Or whenever you want me to come over.”
“All right,” he says. I turn and walk away then, and I hear him walking away too. I look over my shoulder. He closes the door. I turn away quickly.
An hour later I get a text. I take off my headphones and pick my phone of my desk.
When do I get to read it?
Never, I type back.
How about tomorrow?
Maybe.
Another few hours later, I get another text. I’m lying on my bed staring at the ceiling.
Jack is coming over in half an hour.
Ok
Why don’t you come over now? I’m bored.
I smile and swing my legs over the side of the bed.
***
When Jack knocks on the front door, Finny and I are inside a tent we made of couch cushions, chairs, and quilts. We made it big enough so that all three of us would be able to stretch out inside of it, and we left one side open so that we can watch movies. Finny leads Jack into the living room. He’s carrying a handle of rum and two liters of Coke.
“Hi, Jack.” I stick my head out and wave.
“What is that?” he says.
“It’s our cave,” I say. Jack looks at Finny.
“Wow, dude,” he says.