“Sure, yeah. I’ll take a ride. Thanks.”
My body was still vibrating from Finn’s kiss. The drive home was awkward and silent, but when I stepped out of the car at my mom’s place, Finn said, “Safe travels. Have some pommes frites and a croissant or fifty for me.”
I nodded tightly and headed inside to finish packing. Through the window of the front door, I saw that Finn waited until I was inside to drive away. After I watched his brake lights flash at the stop sign on the corner and turn south toward his mom’s house, I leaned against the foyer wall and slid down to the floor with a sigh.
Two days later, when I blinked up blearily at the Eiffel Tower, I couldn’t help but think of Finn. Maybe I missed him, missed that moment between us. Or maybe I just wanted to show I was over it, that we could just be friends. That it was all fine. I snapped a photo of my croissant. It was five in the morning in Dallas, but Finn texted back immediately.
One down, forty-nine to go.
10
THURSDAY AFTERNOON
(Two days before the wedding)
THE MOVIE GAME ISall about strategy. You have to know your opponent’s weaknesses, and you have to force them to play on your ground. For example, I know that Finn Hughes hates anything science fiction or fantasy. Whereas I have a blind spot for war movies, since I’m generally uninterested in watching people getting blown up.
“Stardust.”
“Emma,” Finn groans. It feels good to settle into an old routine knowing that some things never change. I sigh contentedly and settle back into the buttery leather of the Singer. “Is that the Matthew McConaughey space movie?”
“Is it?” I give him a wide-eyed look. “It could be.” His eyes narrow, and I realize I’ve oversold it.
“It’s not, is it?”
I shrug and take a sip of the black coffee we picked up a few miles back. Finn, who is not a doctor no matter how many medically adjacent apps he invents, spent five minutes explaining the effects of caffeine on the nervous system. That it would elevate my heart rate. That it was the last thing I needed after my fainting episode earlier. He even tried to force a chamomile tea on me, which made me laugh out loud. But his concern was sweet, so I compromised and only got a large drip instead of the red-eye I was desperately craving. Another moment where I exhibited an astounding amount of flexibility for which I will get zero credit.
“You can always challenge me,” I say.
“I’m not going to challenge on an opening. You have to know at least one actor from the movie, or you wouldn’t have said it.” Finn takes a sip of his green juice, and I can’t help making a face.
“Maybe I like to gamble,” I counter.
“We’re headed to the right place then.”
Right. Vegas. To find Sybil. For a moment, I’d gotten so caught up in our familiar car-ride banter—honed over many a bus ride to debate tourneys—that I’d almost forgotten why we were on this road trip together in the first place. Locate Sybil, and return her to her happily ever after with Jamie. Despite the fact that Finn has been drivingwayover the speed limit, the GPS says we still have two and a half hours to go before we arrive in Sin City. As I watch the miles tick away, I can’t help but feel the dull sense of a countdown. Likeright now, Finn and I are suspended in a bubble where we can just be our old selves together, without any of the awkwardness and tension that have grown between us over the past eleven years. But as soon as time runs out, all of that will evaporate, and we’ll be back to what we were before. Barely more than strangers.
I look at his strong hands, holding the steering wheel lightly. I take another swig of my coffee, trying to soothe the nagging sense of agitation I feel percolating in my veins, but the caffeine only makes my pulse quicken. Just like Finn said it would. Or maybe it’s not the caffeine, but the fact that Finn has now moved one of his hands to the gearshift, dangerously close to my bare upper thigh…
“I don’t know how you can drink that,” I say, nodding to Finn’s green drink.
Deflect. Banter. Jab.
It may not be as globally recognized as “lick, shoot, suck,” but it’s a routine I know well. One I always fall back on whenever things with Finn veer to close to…something.
The liquid of Finn’s green juice has already started to separate into one level of water and one level of pulp. “Seriously, it looks like something our old cat puked up.”
There you go. Nothing could be remotely romantic or sexy when the subject of cat vomit is introduced.
Finn gives his cup a swirl, and the juice partly rehomogenizes. “I want to live a long and healthy life, Emma.”
“But at what cost, Finn? At what cost? Now come on, guess or challenge.”
He takes a moment to consider. “Challenge.”
“Claire Danes. And Robert DeNiro. And Michelle Pfeiffer.”Finn groans. “You’re at m-o-v-i,” I add, keeping score. Whoever gets tomoviesfirst loses.
“Okay, my turn.The Revenant.”
