“We’re doing a backpacking trip. Starting in Paris then down to Willow’s aunt in Provence, over to Italy, and through Eastern Europe. We end up in Istanbul.”
“Oh, man. That sounds amazing.” He seemed like he was about to say something else, but changed his mind and took a sip of his beer. “Where are you most excited to visit?”
“Istanbul for sure. This way I can knock out two continents on one round-trip flight.”
“Does Istanbulreallycount as Asia? That’s a bit of a Eurocentric historical construct,” he says. “They’ve been trying to join the EU for decades.”
“Does EU membership define what’s European? Where does that leave Switzerland and Sweden?”
I missed sparring with Finn, and an argument about geopolitical borders put us right back on familiar ground. Again, he looked like he wanted to say something, but hesitated.
“What?” I worked the tab on my beer can back and forth until it came loose. It rattled into the empty can.
“Well…” He hesitated again. My beer can clinked as I motioned for him to continue. “Aren’t you nervous about the flight? I remember how relieved you were sophomore year when that debate camp ended up being in Louisiana instead of Minnesota so we didn’t have to fly.”
“Ha, yeah.” He wasn’t wrong—one of the reasons that I had agreed to come to the party with Sybil was that every time I started to pack, all I could think about was being stuck in a metal tube that, as far as I was concerned, was hurtling through the air by magic.
“You should try the three-three-three rule.”
“The what-what-what rule?”
“You name three things you can see, three things you can hear, and then you touch three things. Like, I see a hummingbird feeder, a striped orange-and-white towel, and a live oak. I hear cicadas, the jets from the hot tub, and Abbie asking Sarah if she wants another Modelo.”
He moved toward a gardenia bush in an electric-blue planter and touched his finger to the rim. “Pot.” Pulling a blossom from the shrub, he said, “Flower.” His knuckles grazed my cheek as he tucked the gardenia behind my ear. “Pretty.”
For a second we both stood still, staring at each other. Then, patting the flower to make sure it stayed in place, I pointed out, “Pretty is not a noun.”
His face was still close to mine as he practically whispered, “Sometimes I make exceptions.”
If I had leaned in a fraction sooner, something might have happened. But as I cleared my throat, trying to find a response, he leaned back on his heels and took the final sip of his beer, crunching the can. The moment was over.
“I’ll give it a try on the plane tomorrow. Although, I feel like the only thing I’ll be able to ‘see’ will be the inside of a barf bag,” I said, trying to recapture the joking rhythm we’d been in just moments earlier. “Where did you learn that trick?”
He shrugged, gave a vague nonanswer. “Since my dad died, I’ve needed to be out of my brain more.” He turned toward the cooler beside the grill, then looked back at me. “Can I get you another one?”
“No thanks.” I could feel the dynamic shift between us, and before I could do anything about it, Sybil was at my other side, dragging me into the next round of the game.
THE NIGHT WORE ON,and the party moved into the pool, prompted by a chaotic game of chicken, but by now it was late. Most of the partygoers had trickled back inside to find towels and dry clothes. I had planned to head back inside, too, but took a quick lap to clear my head. When I came up for air at the deep end, there was Finn, hanging out underneath the diving board.
“Jesus, you scared me!” I blurted out as he moved out from under the shadow of the board, grinning. “What were you doing, hiding under there?”
“Waiting for the pool to empty so I can enjoy it alone,” he said, still with that unreadable grin, his black eye giving him a slightly dangerous look.
“Oh, well let me get out of your way in that case,” I said, but he swam in front of me, blocking my access to the wall. I floated there, treading water in front of him. “What are you doing?”
“Stay. I think there’s room for one more in here.”
I laughed as I turned back and saw that, in fact, it was true—we were the only two people left in the pool.
Earlier, Sybil had threatened to throw me in the deep end if I didn’t join the fun, so I’d peeled off my jean shorts and olive-green crocheted halter until I was down to my black bikini. Sybil had also bullied Finn into swimming. When he took off the rattyCalvin and HobbesT-shirt that he’d worn semi-ironically for all of high school, he revealed a chest and arms that made Sybil choke on her beer and start coughing.
“He’s notthatripped,” I had muttered as I patted her on the back.
She gave me a look like she was almost annoyed. “Emma, you need to see what’s right in front of your face.”
Now, floating beside Finn in the pool under the glow of the moonlight, I admitted to myself that he was beautiful. Oddly, the black eye made him even more gorgeous, like broken Japanese porcelain repaired with powdered gold.
“So how did you get that black eye?” I finally asked.
