Chapter 16 Monday #2
“Finn.” In a wetsuit. A surfboard under his arm.
Wet hair, darkened from the water, curling around his ears ever so slightly.
Looking like the type of guy who was put on this earth just so he could go to the beach.
He’s completely at ease, loose-limbed and smiling, relaxed in a way that I haven’t seen him in the classroom.
Especially today, during Book Buddies, when he had to spend the entire hour in the hall disciplining one of his students for carving obscenities into a desk with a knife stolen from the cafeteria.
“Sorry you had to see that,” I tell him. I can still feel the crunch of sand between my teeth.
“See what?” He smirks, plopping himself down into the sand next to me and my two giant holes. “I didn’t see a thing.”
I smile at that. “I didn’t know you surfed.”
“I’m trying.” He shakes out his hair, a few droplets landing on my cheek. “I’m not that good, though. I’ve never had the chance to give it a real go.”
“So, I take it you didn’t grow up by the ocean?” This is good. Very good. I’ll use this time to get to know him, to find out the answers to Mom’s questions from the rehearsal dinner.
He shakes his head. “Nah. My dad was in the military, so home is somewhere in between Virginia, Texas, and Kentucky. We bounced around a lot. Where did y—”
“And where did you go to college?”
“Colorado. Boulder. Class of 2022.” He pumps his fist ironically.
“2022,” I repeat back to him, slowly. “So that would make you…” I close my eyes, hoping the answer will somehow reveal itself to me.
“I just turned twenty-four.”
“You just turned twenty-four.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles breathily, brushing his hair away from his eyes with a sandy hand. “You seem surprised?”
It’s only now that I realize my mouth is wide open. My jaw has practically unhinged itself. I compose myself quickly before saying, “I guess I thought you were closer to my age.”
“You can’t be that much older than me.” He squints. “How old are you?”
“Finn…” I cast him a sideways glance. “You’re not supposed to ask a lady her age.” He reddens slightly. “Kidding!” I place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’m twenty-nine.”
He looks at me with widened eyes. “Whoa.”
“You seem surprised?” I echo his earlier words.
“I guess I thought you were closer to my age,” he echoes mine. “But what does it matter?” He shrugs. “Age doesn’t mean a thing.”
I don’t have much time to think about the implications of his statement before he stands, wiping the sand off the legs of his wetsuit. “Well, I should get going if I want to beat the traffic.”
“Same,” I tell him, even though it’s only a few blocks to Sandy’s office. “I’ll walk with you.”
We make it only a few steps before Finn lets out a small yelp. “Ouch!” He reaches down, wiping sand off a deep cut on the sole of his foot.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I stepped on a shell or something.” He rifles through the sand, looking for the culprit. He palms a tiny piece of plastic, holding it out between us so that we can both have a good look. It looks to be a piece of a bucket.
That counts.
“It’s just plastic.” He shrugs again, dropping the broken bucket piece back into the sand and limping away. The second he turns his back, I reach down and grab it, pocketing it like it’s a lucky penny.
—
I have never set out with the intention of lying. It’s never something I want to do. Sometimes it just…happens. Usually when the truth feels too embarrassing, and being honest doesn’t feel like an option.
Sorry I had to cancel my trip, Matthew…work stuff.
I’ll lie to myself when facing reality feels too difficult.
Whatever happened with Matthew, whatever I may have felt for him, no longer exists.
And occasionally, I’ll lie to my friends when I don’t feel like being encouraged.
He never texted me, Alex. It’s over with Matthew.
Though I find myself fudging the truth more than I’d like to, there is one person who I vowed never to lie to:
Sandy.
In part because therapy doesn’t work if you’re dishonest with your therapist. I read that online somewhere. And I need it to work.
But mostly because, and I learned this early on, there’s no point.
Sandy can see right through any lie I throw her way.
Which is why when I finally give her a chance to ask about the wedding after spending forty minutes breathlessly recounting my incredible afternoon with Finn, I tell her the truth.
I admit to everything that happened with Matthew, down to the two unanswered texts I have from him sitting on my phone.
“I want you to really consider why you’re not answering those texts, Phoebe,” she says. “I don’t think you’re scared that he’s going to reject you. I think you’re scared that he’s not.”
I brush her off. “What difference does it make? Things are going so well with Finn. Not to mention that tomorrow is the Fall Ball. It’s the middle school dance, but all the teachers are strongly encouraged to chaperone.
Cheryl makes a spiked punch to keep in the teachers’ lounge.
I’m thinking of asking Finn for a ride home.
You know how it goes with dropping someone off at home at night. ”
“I do?” Sandy asks.
“Those final few moments when you’re pulling up to the house and getting ready to open the passenger-side door…it’s always sexually charged. A perfect opportunity for a kiss.”
“Hmm,” Sandy hums. “I guess I can see that.”
I nod, glancing at the cat clock on the wall. With only three minutes left in our session, and in the spirit of honesty, I feel like I’d be remiss not to mention what’s going on with Jonathan.
“Also, I got in a fight with Jonathan yesterday,” I admit.
Sandy looks back at the clock, raising her eyebrows as she scribbles something down on her notepad. This strikes me as odd, considering I haven’t even told her what the fight was about. “What are you writing down?”
“I find it curious.” She pauses, placing her pen down while looking at me intently. “You’re having issues with two people who I know mean a lot to you, and yet you spent almost the entirety of today’s session talking about Finn, someone you’ve only known for a few weeks.”
“So?” I ask. “I had a big moment with Finn today. I had a lot to talk about.”
“I just want to make sure your fixation on Finn is coming from a healthy place, and not an avoidant place, that’s all.”
Fixation.
Crush.
Why is no one taking me and Finn seriously?
“It’s not a fixation,” I push back. “It’s a real, mature connection. And it’s all very healthy. I promise.”
She nods, and when she walks to the door and opens it for me, it’s with a slight air of resignation.
“You’ll see, Sandy.” I walk through the open door, adjusting my tote bag on my shoulder as I turn back to her. “When I see you next, everything’s going to be different. Between the Fall Ball and Noah’s birthday party, something’s going to happen this week.”
“I look forward to hearing about it. Get home safe,” she says before closing the door.
I can tell she doesn’t believe me. It doesn’t matter, though, because this time next week, I’ll be right back here, sitting across from her and saying, I told you so.