You Have a Match(31)

I feel a twinge of sympathy for him, even more pronounced than my annoyance with Savvy. He spent the last ten minutes defending her upside down and backward, and she came here and tore him a new one. He may be the one who dragged me out here, yet I can’t help but feel responsible that it happened.

“Wanna go chew twelve packs of gum in four hours before Savvy comes to collect?” I ask, attempting to perk him up.

Finn looks at me, his eyes bright with mischief. “Actually, yeah. But only if you’re on board with a super gross idea.”

“I think I’ve reached my questionable-Finn-ideas limit for today.”

“Even one that will get you even with Savvy?”

I should not entertain this. She’s already pissed off enough.

Trouble is, so am I.

“Only if we can do it before I get my parents to take me home tomorrow.”

Finn’s smirk deepens. “Deal.”





eleven




“I need a jaw transplant.”

I shoot Finn a look, or at least as defined of a “look” as a person can give when there are somewhere between seven and ten sticks of gum wedged between their teeth. “Don’t wuss out on me now. This was your idea.”

“You have like, sixteen years of pro gum chewing under your belt, Bubbles,” Finn moans through his gum wad. “I’m a mere mortal. My teeth are going to fall out of my—”

“Less talking, more chewing. We’re running out of time.”

Finn cradles the lower half of his face as if he were clocked with The Rock’s fist instead of subjected to a half hour of nonstop gum chewing. “What time is it, anyway?” he asks, a sliver of drool dribbling down his mouth.

I snort at the sight and almost choke on the virtual planet of Juicy Fruit in my mouth. It sets Finn laughing, until we make enough noise that we actively sabotage our already doomed plan, prompting the door to the junior camp counselors’ cabin to open and reveal Mickey on the other side.

Finn and I freeze midchew. Mickey beams and throws her arms around him. Finn’s cheeks bulge in an effort not to expel the gum as she squeezes him, and I have to lean on the side of the cabin not to double over from laughing.

“Finn! You’re real!”

Finn nods, giving her a mumbled “Mm-hmm” without opening his mouth.

“And I see you’ve met Abby,” says Mickey, reaching out a fist to bump me on the shoulder.

I relax, grateful Mickey doesn’t help hold Savvy’s grudges for her. Finn spits his gum into his hand while Mickey’s back is turned and cracks his jaw.

“Yeah, Bubbles and I are besties,” says Finn. “Since everyone else is too cool for me now.”

Mickey’s smile softens, and she reaches up the absurd height between her and Finn to ruffle his hair. “Yeah,” she says. “I want to catch up. Maybe tonight in the kitchens, after dinner?”

Finn nods.

“My mom told me what happened. I’m sorry about—”

“Leo told me about your girlfriend,” Finn interrupts, loud enough that Rufus comes scampering out of the cabin, woofing expectantly. Mickey and Finn both seem a little too grateful for the interruption—that is, until Rufus starts sniffing at Finn’s fist, which must be oozing with prechewed gum.

“Oh, yeah, well—I broke up with her, so.”

“Really?” Finn asks. “But I thought—”

Mickey has the same “help me” eyes that Finn did a second ago, so I make myself useful and interrupt before they put each other through the paces of something neither wants me to overhear.

“We’re here to clean the cabins,” I say, gesturing at the cleaning supplies Finn pilfered from one of the rec room closets.

“Oh. Right. Part of our demerit punishments,” says Finn, remembering our not-so-carefully crafted lie.

Mickey’s nose wrinkles. “Yikes. Well. Have at it. I’m heading down to start dinner prep.” Before she heads off, she squeezes Finn’s arm, holding him there for a bit. “It’s really good to see you. We’ll talk.”

Something wobbles in Finn’s expression as she heads off, Rufus in tow, but before I can decide whether to ask him about it, he charges into the cabin, prying the gum from his hand like it’s precious cargo instead of the least-appetizing wet blob either of us has ever laid eyes on.

We scan the room and stop at the sight of the bed outfitted with a Himalayan salt lamp, a book titled Spring Cleaning for Your Brain, and an inordinate amount of Rufus-colored dog hair at the foot.

“Ah,” I deadpan, “but however will we know which bunk is Savvy’s?”

Finn doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll go first. You watch the door.”

“Well, if I didn’t feel like a criminal before, I sure do now.”

“Don’t go soft on me, Bubbles. Besides, all we’re doing is sticking some gum on the bottom of the bunk above hers. It’s not like we’re putting cyanide in her acai bowl.”

Finn begins separating his wad of gum into smaller pieces and squinting up at the space as he curates his gum masterpiece. I watch the door, letting the cool breeze of the afternoon lift my curls, settling into the first bout of quiet I’ve had all day and wishing Finn would fill it. From his silence, he’s pulled himself somewhere far away, too.