14. FOURTEEN
FOURTEEN
“It’s good,” Finn says with a mouthful of pepperoni pizza. For someone who was adamant on not being hungry he sure didn’t put up any resistance. “Do you wanna t-try some of mine?”
Before I even get to respond he’s thrusting the droopy slice right into my mouth. Of course it’s good. It’s nothing but grease and cheese, how could it ever be gross? Still, something about his soft gaze is making me get all shy.
I’m not naive. There’s a faint hint of something hungry in his soft eyes, something that seems so unlike his character that I have no idea what it could even be. I guess he is still a guy after all, and if he does have a crush on me then maybe…
No. It’s nothing. I’m getting ahead of myself again. I’m his first friend. Just because he enjoys spending time with me and gets all happy doesn’t mean we’re gonna ride off into the sunset together.
“Thanks for the food.” I don’t miss how he happily kicks his legs when he finishes. I must really be stupid to ever imagine him being capable of anything other than sweetness. “Um… Would you… Would you like to go to the game store with me?”
“The… board game one?”
“Y-Yeah! I like… collecting, um, cards. Sorry.” Finn’s lips purse as his eyes shift downwards. “I know it’s kind of… nerdy.”
The way he’s still acting all coy about that stuff makes me chuckle. “You’re wearing a comic book shirt. I know that you’re kind of nerdy, Finn. I like it.”
“You like it?”
“Uh—yeah.”
The smile that sprawls across his face reminds me of when we first met.
That’s something I’ve come to appreciate about him.
He manages to smile so sweetly despite the fact life has honestly sort of sucked for him.
I went through one bad thing and immediately felt ready to off myself, but he’s still standing tall.
Of course I don’t know everything. I couldn’t. But I feel I know enough to know how genuine he is. This kindness isn’t an act, it’s a part of him. Just because someone isn’t always kind doesn’t mean they aren’t kind.
“We’re… friends, right?” His thick brows raise, digits idly tugging at the cardboard plate his food was served on. “Like… real friends?”
I’d love to pretend this question is totally random and came out of nowhere, but I’ve been wondering about it too. How do you know you’re friends with someone without explicitly saying it?
“Of course.” The corners of my mouth curl up. “We’re… we’re friends, Finn. Real friends.”
It feels good to have a friend.
“Real friends.” Finn echoes, inching closer across the table. “We’re real friends, Duncan… Hah… It’s… It’s really nice to have a real friend. T-Thanks for being my friend.”
To anyone else this would probably be a bit unnerving, I’m not dumb enough to ignore that. But it’s how Finn is, and I hate to admit that I find it sort of cute. Maybe because deep down I feel the same way. It’s not his fault he sucks at hiding it.
After putting away the remnants of lunch, the two of us walk through the almost-empty halls until we reach The Game Shop. With simple white walls and light wood plank flooring, the store is full of geeky activities.
Model kits. Card games. Shelves and shelves of board games.
None of it’s for me, but Finn completely lights up.
He excitedly speed walks over to the model kits, examining them with the glee of a kid in a candy store.
He walks as if he’s trying not to draw attention to himself, even though it’s totally obvious.
“You build those?” I ask, lagging behind him.
“My dad did,” he explains while flipping over one of the boxes, “they always seemed fun. He said I was too… stupid to do them.”
I can’t stop the way my eyes roll so far into the back of my head I almost lose them. “I’m really not a big fan of your dad. He sounds like an asshole.”
“He is an asshole.”
“I’m not about to get in the way of you and your, uh, wooden kit thing. I’m sure you can do it.” The encouragement feels so robotic leaving my mouth. “Show me it when it’s done?”
All the negativity in the air disappears at the prospect of hanging out again. “Y-Yeah! Gladly! I’m gonna get it!”
Having so much influence over another person is kind of scary. He seems to just… do whatever I say, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad. It’s endearing regardless, but what if I say the wrong thing? Would he really do anything?
“Is that all?” The bored and visibly tired cashier says, running a hand through his long dirty blond hair. When Finn doesn’t say anything he breathes loudly through his thin nose, rapping his fingers against the counter. “It’ll be thirty-two fifty.”
With a tap of his card it’s all paid for. The machine spits out a receipt and we’re sent on our merry way. My phone says it's nearing four, but with how fast the sun is setting you’d think it was way later.
I should go home. I need to go home. Yet the thought of spending another night alone is so miserable. It’s probably way too soon to be inviting him inside my house, but I don’t care. I really don’t.
“Finn?”
“Huh? Yeah?” Whatever he was focused on mere seconds ago is completely out of his head, all of his attention on me and only me.
“Do you wanna come back to my house?”
The way his eyes shoot open makes me grin for a split second. “You… You want me to? Really?”
“Yeah,” I shrug nonchalantly even though my heart is one beat away from giving out entirely. “We can watch a movie or something. Uh… if you want. I dunno.”
“I want to!” Definitely no hesitance on his end, but thinking he would pass up the opportunity was just silly. “I-I’ll come, as long as you’re sure!”
Finn words it so awkwardly that my own nerves begin to subside. Of course I’m sure I want him there. Why wouldn’t I be sure? He’s really the only friend I have right now.