Heartbreaker(11)

“Still, that must have been amazing,” I tell him, envy creeping into my voice. “Seeing the world.”

Finn gives me a rueful smile. “You’d think, but most of it’s just hustling to get to the next show. When you do get a day off, all you want to do is sleep.”

“Aww.” I can’t help teasing. “Poor little rock star.”

Finn snorts, then wipes beer from his face. It’s such a familiar gesture that I find myself relaxing. When the waitress swings by with two steaming baskets of chili cheese fries, I groan. “Oh my God, I’ve been dreaming about this moment.” I devour it, not coming up for air until half my basket is gone. When I look up, Finn is watching me, amusement on his handsome face. I pause. “What? Do I have sauce all over my face?”

He shakes his head. “No, you’re good.”

I remind myself to eat like a person, rather than one of the dogs at the shelter. “So, all the travel aside, there must be some perks to the rock star lifestyle. C’mon,” I prompt him. “No VIP benefits at all?”

Finn smiles. “OK, so it’s not all bad. I love the music part, getting to play my songs and perform in front of those crowds. When they all sing along, and it hits me that they know every word of my words…” he gets a faraway look in his eyes. “It’s pretty awesome.”

I know how that feels, being up on stage in the spotlight, feeling all eyes on me. I used to love it, losing myself in a role until I’d surface from the performance and find the audience hanging off my every word. I feel a rush of pride for him. He’s come a long way since we were sitting on that riverbank together. Even though I can’t forget the pain he caused, I can’t help but feel proud of everything he’s achieved. “Your dad must have been happy,” I say quietly. “I was really sorry when he passed.”

Finn’s face tenses. He gives an abrupt kind of shrug. “Yeah, well, it happens.”

I realize I’ve stepped over some kind of line. Finn never came back for the funeral, but by then his career was sky-rocketing and I figured that maybe he had other commitments he just couldn’t break. Now, I wonder if he gave it a miss for another reason.

“But back to your new superstar lifestyle.” I change the subject quickly and give him a playful grin. “I heard you caused a riot in London.”

Finn relaxes again. “No comment.”

“Come on,” I urge, and he laughs.

“That was just my PR company blowing it all out of proportion. The truth is, some girls thought I was that guy from the boy band, started screaming, and soon I’m fighting my way through a hundred horny schoolgirls. Have you ever seen them swarm?” he adds, grimacing. “I swear, the ones who got up close were sorely disappointed.”

“Unlike your fans here.” I nod over to the bar, where a trio of coeds are watching. He turns, and they all blush and turn away, whispering hysterically to each.

Finn slouches lower, hiding in the booth.

“Are you blushing?” I laugh. He looks even more uncomfortable.

“Tell me they’re not coming over.”

I peek back. “No, but they’ve got their phones out, so expect your photo all over Facebook in an hour.”

He groans. “Don’t get me wrong, I love that they’re into the music. But this stuff, getting followed around and asked for my autograph?” He shakes his head. “I wish it wasn’t part of the deal.”

“It’s a devil’s bargain, for sure.” I laugh, surprised by his discomfort. He always seemed so relaxed being the object of everyone’s affection back when I knew him before, but maybe there’s a difference between the sophomore class of our high school panting over you, and thousands of eager fangirls around the world.

Finn finishes his beer, and gets up. “Another?”

I shake my head. “I’m good.”

He doesn’t go to the bar, but heads across the room to the old jukebox instead. He taps a few buttons, and returns to our table just as a familiar song begins to play. ‘Alone with You’ by Jake Owen.

Memories floor me, so vivid I can almost taste the sea salt on his skin. “You remember,” I breathe.

Finn’s smile is almost sad in the dim light. “How could I forget?”

It was the last day of winter break, before school began. We drove out of town, all the way to Beachwood Bay, and this song followed us all day long. No matter what station we changed to on the radio, it was there. It was playing in the crab shack where we stopped for lunch, and at the gas station on the way. We spent the whole afternoon on the cold, winter sand, bundled up in jackets and scarves, kissing and talking under the pale sun. There was something bittersweet about that day. The whole vacation we’d been in our own private world, but tomorrow, we’d have to get back to reality again. But for those long, sweet hours, it felt like anything was possible, lazily kissing in the hollow of the dunes, watched over by the gulls as our hands, and mouths, and tongues explored each other’s body, fevered under the chilled breeze. And later, on our way home: detouring into the dark of the woods, this familiar anthem playing over again as we took all the liberties we couldn’t out in the light of day. Mouths searching; the hot press of his weight on me. The line I’d never crossed before.

I swallow, snapping back to the dim, noisy bar and Finn’s watchful gaze. My heart is pounding, skin as flushed as that afternoon on the beach. “I have to…” I stammer, my old tongue-tiedness returning as I struggle to push the emotion aside. “Bathroom,” I finally manage, before bolting out of the booth and down the back hallway to the sanctuary of the dark, chipped stall.