Whatever Happens Read online

  “Wow, that’s impressive.”

  “Why?” Finn blurts. “It’s just clothes.”

  I elbow him in the side lightly, but Lydia laughs.

  “Finn has no filter.”

  “I’ve noticed. It’s refreshing.”

  “I don’t mean to be rude.” Finn drops his head in shame and I instantly feel bad for picking on him.

  “No, no, I like it,” Lydia rushes to assure him.

  “Me too,” I agree.

  We turn the corner and I see the bulletin board at the end of the hall.

  My finger drops from Finn’s as I quickly grab ahold of his whole hand. My grasp is tight, but somehow he manages to give me a reassuring squeeze.

  We reach the board and Lydia breathes a sigh of relief. “No part for me, thank God.”

  “Why’d you try out then?” Finn asks curiously.

  Lydia shrugs and steps aside. “To push my boundaries, I guess.”

  Finn nods and gives my hand one last silent reminder of his support before we both scan the list for our names.

  “That can’t be right.” The words are muttered under my breath in complete and utter disbelief. I read the list again, but my name is still in the same spot, and Finn’s… “Holy fucking shit,” I blurt, blinking over and over until my vision begins to blur.

  Finn grins down at me and presses a kiss to my cheek, practically on my lips. “Hello, Beauty.”

  I exhale a breath of disbelief and smile back at him. “Beast.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Time passes in a haze of studying, learning lines, practices, and stolen moments with Finn. With Thanksgiving only days away there’s still no label on our relationship. I know what I want, but I don’t know how to ask him. Approaching the subject of asking if he wants to be my boyfriend leaves me with a lump of fear in my stomach. We kiss on occasion, hold hands, but beyond that it’s completely innocent.

  I wrap my fingers around the warm cup of coffee as Finn and I cross the street from the coffee shop to his car. The snow on the ground is mushy and gray, but still several inches deep. My snow boots are covered in grime and look like they’ve seen several years of use versus only about a month and a half.

  Finn let’s Jack hop in the back, then climbs in and starts the car, letting the heat pour inside. We weren’t in the shop more than fifteen minutes ordering and waiting for our coffee and treats but the car is ice cold already. My breath fogs the air inside the car as we wait for it to warm. I bring my drink to my lips, letting it heat me from the inside.

  Finn tugs his beanie lower over his ears. He looks adorably rumpled in his puffy coat and jeans. His beanie is loose, hiding most of his curly black hair. Like always, his glasses are slipping down his nose and right on cue he pushes them up and back into place.

  “Are you and your mom doing anything for Thanksgiving?”

  He smells his coffee and takes a sip before answering. “My brother and sister are coming.” He wrinkles his nose and I don’t know whether it’s because of the smell or irritation about his siblings.

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Eh.” He shrugs with his noncommittal noise.

  “Not a fan?” I arch a brow and he twists his lips in thought.

  “They don’t … understand me. Not like you do.” He turns to me, his blue eyes dark and serious. They’re a dangerous swirl of ocean and the midnight blue of darkness. “I wish everyone saw things like you.”

  “Most people are too closed-minded.” I shrug, kicking my feet up on the dashboard and looking across at the ice rink that’s been erected in the center of town.

  Out of the corner of my eye I see him lean his head back against the seat. “Tell me something about your sister. Something little or big. Just anything.”

  It doesn’t take me long to think of something and a smile comes with the memory. “She loved crayons. A new box of crayons was literally her favorite thing in the world. She loved coloring pictures. Her whole room was covered in pictures she colored or drew. She was constantly leaving them for my parents and me.” A wistful sigh leaves my lips.

  It’s heartbreaking to know I’ll never have a colored pictured of Barbie or a Disney princess left for me again. Those were her favorite, but I did get the occasional Star Wars character now and then. The last Christmas before she passed my parents got her a bunch of those fancy adult coloring books with the intricate designs. Although she could color them fine, she didn’t like them.

  “It would’ve been nice if I could’ve met her.”

  I swivel my head in his direction, feeling the ache of my sister’s loss deepen in my chest. “Yeah, it would’ve been.”

  I notice he doesn’t say he wishes he could’ve met her. Wishes to Finn are nothing but a fairytale and I guess that’s true. You can wish on a star, on a hope, a dream, but that doesn’t will your desire into existence.

  Picking an invisible piece of lint from my jeans, I avoid his gaze.

  Finn, I know, would never look at me with pity, but I still fear seeing it in his eyes. Pity is the last thing I want. Pity doesn’t bring her back, or change the way I feel. Pity is a cage.

  Taking another sip of coffee, I drop my feet down, and ask, “Can we go to the bookstore?”

  He grins—that adorable, dorkish, smile of his I love so much. “You think you can brave the cold?”

  I stick my tongue out at him. “You grew up here. You’re used to it. Come to Texas and see how you handle the heat, then we’ll talk.”

  “Maybe one day,” he murmurs, turning the car off. We get out, Jack following, and trek through the cold down the street to the bookstore—passing the smoothie place I frequented often in the summer.

  Finn reaches the door and opens it as someone is about to come out.

  “Oh.” Lydia jolts backwards. “Hi, guys.”

  “Hey.” I smile in surprise.

  A plastic bag dangles from her fingers with a book.

  “Uh … hi,” Finn mutters, staring at his shoes. Jack nudges his leg with his nose and Finn pets the top of his head. Finn doesn’t dislike Lydia, but he still hasn’t quite warmed to her. But it took him a while to get used to me too, so I think he’ll get there.

  “Are you enjoying break?” Lydia asks, shuffling to the side.

  “Yeah, I am. It’s been quiet so far.”

  Lydia nods. “Well, maybe we can hang out some over break. I know it’s not a long one, but...” She runs her fingers through her long straight black hair. “To be honest, my whole family is in and when I say my whole family, I mean it. There are like fifty people hanging around on a daily basis.”

  “That sounds killer,” I agree, while beside me Finn gives a noncommittal sound of agreement. “I’m sure we can do something. You can just come over and hang out if you want. I’ll text you my address. We don’t have any crazy plans, so any time would work.”

  She smiles widely. “That’d be awesome. Bye, guys!” In much better spirits than she was before, she waves and heads down the street.

  “Close that door,” Pete scolds. “I’m not paying to heat the outdoors.”

  “Sorry, Pete,” I apologize as the two of us, and Jack step fully into the store and let the door swing closed behind us.

  “Mhmm, sure you are,” he hums, trying to hide a carefree smile.

  Finn is already browsing the shelves, in search of something new to read. He devours books and is constantly in need of more. I don’t really have a purpose in being here this time, except not being ready to go home.

  I look around anyway, picking up a book here or there. I stop when I pull out a book of poems. The cover is simple, a cobalt blue with a silver squiggly line, and the title. Opening it, I scan some of the poems, one after the other speaking right to my soul.

  “You want that?”

  “Oh my God!” I cry, startled by the sound of Finn’s voice right beside my ear. The book goes flying through the air and lands on the ground.

  He picks it up and looks at the page it’s
open to. “And in the darkness she found a light … a beating heart … a echo of her own.” He rubs his lips together and shrugs. “Interesting. You want this?” He repeats.

  I nod woodenly, still shocked by his sudden appearance. He tucks it under his arm along with three books he’s pulled for himself. “I’m getting it for you.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I protest, breaking free of my surprise.

  “I want to.” It’s such a simple response, but from Finn it feels like the whole world.

  It’s silly, I know, but I can’t help feeling the way I do.

  “You ready?” he asks, his eyes scanning the shelf behind me.

  “Mhmm.” I nod, wringing my fingers together because I feel suddenly weird with nothing to hold in my hands.

  “Come on, Jack.” Finn heads to checkout and I trail behind him, still surprised he wants to buy the book for me.

  After everything is rung up and paid, Pete bids us to have a good day, and we walk back through the frigid cold to his car once more.

  Finn starts the car, but doesn’t pull out right away. “I … I realize I must’ve upset you—asking about your sister.”

  “You didn’t upset me,” I insist.

  “No, I did, and I’m sorry. I’m not … I’m not good at this.” He looks at me briefly. “I don’t understand social cues and nuisances. I ask questions and don’t think about the consequences, for that, I’m sorry.”

  “Finn, I don’t care that you asked about my sister.” He opens his mouth to argue. “Truly.” I place a hand over my heart. “It’s the thoughts, the memories, that make me sad—not your questions. Remembering is painful, but forgetting her is even more terrifying. The pain thoughts of her bring are the only thing that feels real anymore when it comes to her. Where there was joy there’s only loss and hurt now.”

  “It scares me,” he whispers, clasping the steering wheel tightly in hands. He still makes no move to back out.

  “What does?”

  “That I might never feel that for someone. I feel like I can’t love like a normal person, so I probably can’t grieve like one either. What if my mom died and I didn’t miss her? That makes me a monster.”

  “You’re not a monster, Finn.” I reach over, cupping his cheek in my hand. His skin has the barest hint of stubble. “You’re human. That’s it.”

  His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and his wary, tear-filled eyes slowly make their way to me. “You make me question everything.” His voice becomes raw and gravely. My belly fills with an ache. A need.

  In the blink of an eye I close the distance between us.

  I kiss him, trying to will him to absorb my thoughts and feelings, so he can experience first hand how wonderful he is from my perspective. He kisses me back, desperation clinging to his lips. We’ve never kissed like this before. It’s always been sweet, light, easy. This is raw passion, mind-blowing chemistry, a fierceness that can’t be denied. This is the kind of kiss I’ve read in books and seen on movie screens, where two people can’t get enough of each other. It’s the moment they both give in, falling apart in each other’s arms. I whimper as his tongue collides with mine. Neither one of us are by any means an expert kisser, but it doesn’t matter. Intensity like this makes everything else dull in comparison.

  We’re like two sides to a coin—different, but somehow the same.

  My fingers delve into his hair, knocking his beanie off in the process. He doesn’t even notice. He pulls at my coat—not to take it off, but to tug me closer.

  Not breaking the kiss I climb into his lap and in the same moment he slides his seat all the way back to accommodate my body on top of his. My hips sink down on his and a small, soft moan leaves my throat when I feel his erection between my legs. I wasn’t expecting it and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it turns me on. Finn is always so aloof and at times I’ve worried he’s not attracted to me the way I am him, but this proves those thoughts false—although, he is a teenage boy so maybe I shouldn’t get my hopes up too much.

  Unable to help myself I rock my hips into him. He hisses between his teeth, but doesn’t stop kissing me.

  It’s like a match was lit between us and now the fire is raging.

  Untamable.

  Unstoppable.

  Unbelievable.

  I take his cheeks in my hands, kissing him deeper, sinking further into him.

  His hands move to my ass, gentle and soft at first, but then he growls and grips me tighter. I think it would take an out of this world force to get him to let me go.

  His hips surge into mine and I gasp, the sound then sinking into a moan.

  Oxygen.

  I have no idea what that is at the moment. Finn is the only substantial thing in existence. He fills my lungs, surges through my veins, and heightens my senses.

  I’ve never lost control like this before. I’m completely and utterly falling into him. I should probably be frightened by how easily I’ve let go, but I’m not. It feels right.

  Our lips easily match the other’s. We move as if we’ve had an entire lifetime to get acquainted.

  I rock my hips into him and a soft, surprised breath stutters from his lips as they press into mine. Over and over again I roll my hips. Up. Down. Around, around. I feel something building in my body, something I’ve never felt before and only heard of. Sweat dampens my body beneath my heavy clothes.

  “Finn,” I cry out his name. “Oh my God.”

  My whole body shakes with an orgasm. It feels like I’m having an out of body experience. He groans into my neck, lightly biting my flesh to quiet his sounds.

  A knock on the window sends us flying apart. My back hits the steering wheel and it honks.

  “Knock it off. You’re in public,” a gruff voice grumbles from outside the steamed window.

  Finn and I look at each other with wide, stunned, eyes and I let out a small laugh. Finn’s eyes nervously dart from the window, back to me, but he can’t do anything about his smile. His hands are still low on my hips, long fingers splayed over my butt.

  “That … that felt good.”

  Understatement of the century, but from Finn, it feels like I’ve just won an Olympic gold medal.

  Somehow, I manage to get my weak legs to work and climb off his lap into the passenger seat. There’s a wet spot on his jeans and color floods my cheeks, realizing we just did that in public.

  Yeah, the knock on the window should’ve clued me in, but I was in an orgasm-induced haze.

  I glance in the back, busting out in laughter when I see Jack sitting in the middle on the floor, his head cocked to the side in question.

  “I don’t think he’s seen anything like that before,” I remark.

  Finn glances at Jack. “Shield your eyes next time,” he chides in amusement.

  “Next time?” I raise a brow, trying to hide my smile.

  His smile falters a bit. “O-Only if you want to.” He doesn’t meet my eyes.

  I reach over and grab his chin gently between my fingers, pleading for him to look at me. When he does I murmur, “I definitely want to.”

  I kiss him again, only briefly this time before we lose control, and buckle my seatbelt.

  “G-Good,” Finn stammers, putting the car in reverse. “That’s good.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “You’re extra smiley lately.”

  I look up from the food piling my plate. My mom went all out for Thanksgiving and now we have enough food to feed an army. It’s way too much for only the three of us.

  I try to shutter my smile, but it’s impossible. It’s been two days and I can’t stop thinking about what happened in Finn’s car. Things between us romantically have been sweet, soft, … simple. I feared he didn’t want me in that way, because he never made a move. It was silly of me, I should’ve expected him to be hesitant since to start he barely made conversation with me. Finn needs me to make the first move. He’s too socially scarred to be forward and it’s up to me to teach him, guide him, show
him what my body wants and needs—and God, do I need him.

  “Just happy I guess.”

  She smiles in return, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s nice to see you happy.”

  “Thank you.” Even though I know she’s being kind and truly means it, guilt settles inside me, coiling in my stomach like a slick poisonous snake. Grief, it’s something that ebbs and flows, like a tide. It retreats for a time, but returns, the pit gaping open inside you once more as the pain of loss threatens to drown you. Several months ago that’s all I wanted—to embrace the hurt, the despair, and let it end me, but now I’m fighting, struggling to reach the surface and breathe air fully.

  “How are things going with the play?” Dad changes the subject, completely oblivious to my inner thoughts.

  I turn my attention to him, swirling the gravy in my mashed potatoes, watching as the two blend together.

  “It’s going surprisingly well. I’m actually loving it. Mr. Rochester is a hard ass—”

  “Violet,” my mom scolds. “That’s your teacher.”

  “But he is, and he totally knows it,” I defend, but she doesn’t stop giving me the stink eye. “Mr. Rochester is very particular,” I decide on instead, “so he’s constantly making changes and critiques, but I don’t mind it because he truly makes it better.”

  “And what about Finn? Is he doing okay with the lead?” Worry coats her voice, and I know she’s thinking of Luna and how fearful she was of such situations. To this day she has no idea about Luna trying out for the cheer team. I haven’t had the heart to tell her.

  “He’s doing fantastic.” I truly mean it too. “When he’s in character he’s not Finn. He’s the Beast completely. It’s … awe-inspiring.”

  “We can’t wait to see it. Are we allowed to watch a rehearsal?”

  I shake my head, chewing a bite of mac n’ cheese before I answer. “Mr. Rochester has rehearsals on lockdown. He literally chewed out a janitor the other day for trying to come in and clean the auditorium. He’s convinced one of the rival schools is going to steal his ideas or something, even though I’m pretty sure no one else is doing this play.”