“I didn’t really know her before now,” I replied.
He looked out over the water glittering around us. A Friday afternoon of a holiday weekend. All sorts of planning had no doubt been in the works for months, and not just the wedding. And here I was, with absolutely no idea what I was doing.
“Hey,” I said as he sat down on the dock. “What’s going on with you?”
He didn’t answer at first, and I just studied his profile, as familiar as my own. I’d spent so much time looking at him—usually adoringly, I had to admit—from this very vantage point. I’d thought earlier how easy it was for him to fall back into our habits. Now, though, I was acutely aware of the risk I’d do the same.
“Do you remember my speech?” he asked me finally. “At graduation?”
“Sure.” He’d worked on it for weeks, with me hearing several versions. “It was great.”
He smiled. “Yeah. Except for the panic attack I had right in the middle.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” He reached up, scratching his neck, a nervous tic. “Right around the line about forging ahead to the best of tomorrows. All of a sudden, I looked out across all those people—my family, teachers, even you. And I realized for all I’d accomplished, it was only a start. I have to do it all again now.”
“You were fine, though,” I said. I honestly could not remember any sign of anything other than his trademark confidence. “Everyone loved what you said.”
“I puked in the janitor’s closet,” he said. “After. My heart felt like it was going to break my chest. When I came out and found you with my family, I was sure you’d be able to tell.”
“I couldn’t.” Even now, I was unable to picture this. “I’m so sorry.”
“I didn’t want you to know. Or anyone. I thought it was just anxiety, graduation and all that. But on the cruise, it didn’t really go away. Then I met that girl Lucy.”
“The one I saw at Speculator,” I said, confirming.
He nodded. “She was so young, and thought I was awesome. I could just, you know, play that part. StuCo, Mr. Competitive, everything else. It was easy. Familiar.” He scratched his neck again. “When I came back, though, the terror did too. I tried to work at camp, push through it. I couldn’t. When I quit, I just started driving. And here I am.”
“Finley?” I turned to see Lana on the porch. We hadn’t yet debriefed about Colin’s arrival, but I knew she was dying to. “Are you coming back in? We’re about to assign the rest of the tasks.”
I gave her a thumbs-up. “But youdidbreak up with me,” I reminded Colin. “It hurt. A lot.”
He blinked at me: I’d caught him off guard. Then again, since he’d last seen me, I’d learned something about the importance of narrative. Colin had always been the one who shaped ours.
“Can I ask you something?” He said this so suddenly, I knew he would regardless of my reply. Sure enough, I barely managed to nod before he said, “Did you ever have doubts? About going to the U, or us? Like, maybe there was more to life than what we planned?”
I thought of Pacchiana, how I’d worked secretly on my application, the weird mix of joy and fear when I got in. “Yes,” I said.
“You did?” He tilted his head to the side. “When?”
“Finley!” Lana again. “Can you drive a golf cart?”
“No!” I yelled back. I turned to Colin. “Look, I feel for you. But this is just a really crazy time here, and…”
He nodded, slowly. “I understand.”
“Finley! Are you more comfortable with old people or small children?”
This was not a question I could answer with a single word or gesture. “I have to go help,” I said. “We’re doing all this on the fly. It’s insane.”
He drew his legs up, then stood. “It’s fun, though.”
Hearing this, I had a flash of going to his house for dinner and Speculator that very first time. I’d been nervous but excited, my hand folded in his as we came into the bright foyer. Hissister had been home, a friend in tow, both at the bar as Colin’s mom stirred a pot on the stove. Meanwhile, his dad fumbled with a classic rock playlist as their two labs circled his legs. Chaos, also. In the best way.
The bottom line was, despite all I was noticing now, Colin had once taken me in. So I’d do the same. I knew it wouldn’t make things better with Ben, but then I wasn’t sure what could at this point. Plus he could drive a golf cart.
Now, back at the table, Liz flipped to another page on her pad. “Okay. So next item is… guest book. Finley, I’m putting you down for that.”
