Finn was right. This wasn’t Arroyo Grande. I thought I was used to Theo’s place by now, but the truth was I wasn’t. I still got up every morning feeling like a guest—feeling like it was temporary.
Because it probably was.
I shrugged off the feeling, the concern, wondering what would happen to Hayley when it all fell apart, and hurried back over to the table. I didn’t need those thoughts on my face and in my eyes when Finn returned.
I couldn’t, however, keep the shock off my face when Finn walked in carrying a tray with cans of soda and snacks on it. He laid it on the table in front of me and then slipped the laptop bag he’d been carrying off his shoulder.
“You went into the kitchen?” I gaped at him.
“I know how to grab a snack, India.”
I winced at his curt tone. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant your cook lets you into the kitchen?”
His eyes lit with understanding and, if I wasn’t mistaken, a little amusement. “Gretchen,” he murmured knowingly.
“So it’s not just me? She’s mean, right?”
Finn actually chuckled. Chuckled! “Our cook, Etienne, is definitely more laid-back than Gretchen.”
“What a diplomatic way to put it,” I muttered, turning back to the tray.
As I reached for a soda, my hand stopped midway at the snack Finn had put on a plate.
Toaster Strudel.
Surprised, I looked at him.
His expression totally deadpan, he said, “I have it on good authority that you’re partial to Toaster Strudel.”
A feeling, warm and lush and giddy, moved through me and I found myself throwing my head back in laughter. My giggles started to slow and when they did our eyes met. My breath almost completely escaped me because Finn was full-on grinning.
I’d never seen him smile before and it completely transformed him. His smile was boyish and a little lopsided, and completely and utterly appealing.
That warm giddiness settled in a pool of flutters in my belly and my laughter faded.
In that past minute I’d learned three things about Finn Rochester.
He definitely had a sense of humor.
He really did listen to me when I talked.
His smile could light up the world.
I’d also learned new things about me, but I didn’t even want to think about those things and what they meant for how I felt about Finn.
Smile gone now, Finn got out his laptop while I flipped to my notes from history class.
The strangest thing happened over the next hour: we actually worked well together. We were weirdly in sync from the outset. Finn had asked if I would mind if he played some music because it helped him concentrate. I didn’t mind because I needed to listen to music while I worked, too, and when the Torrents started playing, a band I happened to love, I gave him a smile to let him know I liked his music choice.
The band played quietly in the background as we worked through what each stage of the presentation would consist of.
We were coming to the end of our plan and now that I’d had a couple of glimpses of Finn as a real person I was curious to know more. I took a sip of my soda and watched him as he finalized our summary on his laptop.
It wasn’t a hardship to watch him.
Not. At. All.
Sensing my stare, he stopped typing. “What?”
“So...a photographer, huh? Is that what you want to do with your life?”
And just like that the newfound ease between us disappeared. His expression went blank. “It’s a hobby.”
The fact that he’d completely closed down on me suggested otherwise. Before I could stop myself, I said, “It’s definitely more than a hobby.”
“No, it’s not. I’m a Rochester. I’ll end up working with my father.”
Did I detect a hint of bitterness in his tone? I leaned closer. “What does your father do?”
“He’s the CEO of a corporate holdings company.”
“Sounds fancy.” And for some reason not exactly what I pictured Finn doing with his life.
He smirked, relaxing a bit at my lighthearted tone. “It is.” His eyes narrowed on my face. “And what is it you want to do?”
I guessed it was only fair I share. “I want to be a criminal prosecutor in the DA’s office.”
Finn’s eyebrows rose. “That’s pretty specific.”
“I know what I want.”
“And you’re free to take it.”
“You sound almost envious.”
Finn pushed back from the table, closing his laptop. “You know my father is friends with a professor at Harvard. I think he might be able to get us access to primary sources for this.”
It bugged me when he shut down. I knew it was more than a little hypocritical of me, but I couldn’t help how I felt. I was disappointed he refused to let me get to know him.
That was probably a warning sign.
I allowed his subject change. “That would be great.” I began packing my notes away.
“I’m free Saturday afternoon. We could work here again,” he said.
It wasn’t like I had plans. “Sure.”
“Okay.” Finn stood up and I followed suit, shaking off my strange reluctance to leave. “I’ll drive you home.”
CHAPTER 8
ALTHOUGH I WAS grateful to Eloise for hooking me up with another extracurricular, I had to admit I had absolutely no idea how to be a sound assistant. Apparently, that didn’t matter when you were Eloise Fairweather’s stepsister-to-be. That and the promise that I was a fast learner had me through the door, following Eloise into rehearsal the next afternoon after school.
I knew from the very professional posters pinned up around the school that the upcoming performance was of Our Town. I also knew from Eloise’s discussion with her father at the dinner table the previous evening that she was exceptionally happy about that considering she’d campaigned to the director—our English Lit teacher, Mr. Draper—against the original plans to perform Almost, Maine. The problem with Almost, Maine, she’d said, was that it gave her less time to shine onstage considering it was one play broken into nine plays performed by a large cast.
Playing Emily Webb/Gibbs in Our Town obviously made Eloise happy and I had wondered why she wasn’t pursuing a career in acting until a discussion she had at the dinner table with Theo. Eloise did not want to be a lawyer but Theo was like any cliché successful parent and wanted guaranteed success for his daughter. Acting couldn’t give her that so she was pursuing something else she was passionate about—medicine. Eloise had grand plans to be an oncologist and would be applying to premed at Harvard.
It was one more thing we had in common—our future career choices were consequences of our history with our parents.
“You’re just going to learn as much as you can watching today,” Nadiya said once Eloise left us after our introductions. It turned out Nadiya, who was the graphics girl for the Chronicle, was the sound director.
“Great.” I nodded, realizing this might not be a job that kept me that busy. But the important thing was how it looked on a transcript.
I stood next to Nadiya, her pretty face framed by a striking green hijab that set off her large dark eyes. She had the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen.
I tried to take in what she was doing as the actors got ready to rehearse. We’d done Our Town our sophomore year back at Arroyo Grande so I knew the play pretty well. Today it appeared they were rehearsing Act III.
The boy playing the Stage Manager was pretty good but I was waiting impatiently for Eloise to appear. This was the scene of Emily’s funeral when she appears at the graveyard to sit with the other members of the dead, including her mother-in-law.
I stilled at the sight of Eloise and leaned forward to hear better
as she sat down beside Mrs. Gibbs to chat with her about her husband, George, and their farm. When she suddenly stopped and said the line “Live people don’t understand,” I was held rapt by the loneliness in her voice as she went on to discuss how distant she felt from the living.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her through the entire act. While others flubbed their lines or read them over the top or flatly, Eloise didn’t miss a cue and her realness was captivating. When the boy playing her husband, George, threw himself on his wife’s grave as she looked on, and she turned to her mother-in-law and said, “They don’t understand, do they?” little fleshy goose bumps rose up all over my arms.
The Stage Manager appeared, his monologue ending the play, and I was jerked out of the world I’d just been taken to by Mr. Draper clapping his hands together and yelling, “From the top! Some of you have a lot of work to do. Eloise, you were wonderful!”
And she was, I realized, a little dazed.
“She’s good, right?” Nadiya smirked at me.
I nodded, still disbelieving Eloise was that freaking talented. “Yeah.”
“As for you, sound assistant... You weren’t paying attention to anything I did, were you?”
“No.” I winced. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. It was your first Eloise performance. You’re forgiven.”
I gave a little huff of laughter and tried my best to follow what she was doing, but I was still reeling a little.
Eloise seemed kind of young to be such a strong actress and I could only guess she was doing a method acting thing where she used her own experience to help her perform a role authentically.
I knew she’d been through something terrible, but seeing her vulnerable, it sank in for the first time how much Eloise was still hurting from losing her mother.
I wrapped my arms around myself, staring blankly at Nadiya’s sound gear. I was suddenly uncomfortable with the knowledge that I’d been kind of self-involved.
Since arriving in Massachusetts, all I’d cared about was how the move affected me—how I was hurt by it. It never occurred to me someone here could be hurting, too, let alone Eloise.
* * *
Gil collected us after rehearsals and Eloise and I quietly got into the car. As soon as she had approached me at the school gates, I felt like I was looking at an entirely new person from the one I’d walked into school with that morning.
The fact was that I didn’t know Eloise at all well so I’d played a guessing game of her character in my head. There were still things about her that I couldn’t work out—like her relationship with Finn, although his rare moment of honesty about both their mothers gave me insight—but for the most part I’d thought I’d gotten the gist of her. Privileged, entitled, aloof, arrogant, principled, fair, determined, driven, kind to her friends, spoiled, blessed, charmed and a total daddy’s girl.
Now I wasn’t so sure.
I was thinking I needed to knock off “blessed” and “charmed,” for a start, and add “sad” and possibly “lonely,” along with “extremely talented.”
Knowing there was sadness there, a vulnerability, actually made me curious about her. A little like I was curious about Finn, I guessed.
Drawn to sadness.
Huh.
I wasn’t sure what that said about me.
“You’re really talented,” I said into the quiet of the car.
Eloise jerked out of the daydream she’d been in and raised an eyebrow at me. “Excuse me?”
“I said you’re really talented.”
Her eyes dropped, shielding her expression. “Thank you.”
“You should be applying to Tisch, not medical school.”
She shot me an unhappy smile. “If Daddy had his way it would be neither. It would be prelaw.”
I frowned. “But he so obviously supports you.”
Eloise wrinkled her nose and looked away, out the window. “Hmm.”
What did “hmm” mean? Did Theo not really support his daughter? Were their conversations at dinner all for show? What was I missing?
“At least he’ll have a lawyer in the family now,” Eloise muttered against the window.
Unease shifted through me at her comment.
Perhaps I’d been right all along? Perhaps Eloise’s behavior when we first met was born from some kind of resentment of me. She didn’t think I was going to steal her father’s support and affection, did she?
This was me! Did she not realize I didn’t trust the guy? Or anyone for that matter.
“Finn and I have been dating since we were fourteen,” Eloise said.
I blinked, confused by the abrupt statement. “O-kay.”
She looked at me, still distant, still expressionless. “Two years. We’re solid.”
Um...was I being warned off the boyfriend?
I swallowed hard, feeling truly uncomfortable. “We’re just writing a presentation together.”
“I know.” She shrugged and looked away again. “I was just making conversation.”
I barely contained my snort. My ass she was just making conversation.
I did not need to be warned away from Finn. I wasn’t doing anything! So why did my cheeks feel hot with guilt?
Dammit!
As soon as we pulled up to the house, I got out of the car before Gil could open the door and I tried my best not to slam it behind me. Eloise waited for Gil to let her out, so I stormed ahead into the house, pissed as hell at her warning and my reaction to it.
“You’re home!” Hayley bounced into the hallway like an excited little girl. She smiled over my shoulder. “Hey, honey.”
“Hayley,” Eloise murmured behind me. “I have some homework I need to do before dinner, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Hayley called after her. When Eloise was out of sight she turned to me with that huge pretty smile of hers. “So you two seem to be getting along.”
“Or at least we’re pretending to.” I patted her shoulder as I passed her.
She ignored my sarcasm, stopping me in my tracks with her next sentence. “I need you to come to the bridal shop with Eloise and me this Saturday. We have an appointment to find all of our dresses.”
I spun slowly on my right heel, horror-struck. “Please do not tell me we’re your bridesmaids.”
Her hands flew to her hips. “Well, of course you are. Take that horrified look off your face—it’s not funny.”
“I’m not being funny. I’m truly horrified.”
Hayley rolled her eyes on a sigh. “You’ll be there. No arguments.”
“I can’t. I’m studying with Finn on Saturday.”
“Finn?” She took a step toward me, frowning. “Eloise’s Finn?”
“No, Nemo’s Finn.”
She glared at me.
“Yes.” I threw up my hands. “What other Finn do we know but Eloise’s Finn?”
“Does Eloise know about this study session?”
Not liking the accusatory tone in her voice, I snapped, “Yes.”
Hayley closed in on me, her voice dropping to an almost whisper. “The last thing this burgeoning family needs is boy drama.”
“Have you ever known me to be involved in boy drama?”
“What about Jay?”
“He wasn’t boy drama. He was a make-out session you walked in on. Finn and I are study partners for a history presentation. That’s it. Besides...didn’t you get the memo? He’s a Rochester. Rochesters don’t date nobody Maxwells.”
Hayley smiled at me like she knew something I didn’t, and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Sweetheart, you are so very far from a nobody I worry about you all the time. Maxwell, Fairweather, Rochester...you’re smart, you’re intimidatingly self-assured and you’re beautiful.
In other words, a guy like Finn could probably not give a crap what your name is considering you’re teenage boy catnip.” She dipped her head closer. “So I’m asking...not this boy. Okay?”
I looked at my feet, hearing her opinion of me ringing in my ears. I couldn’t believe that’s how she saw me. Self-assured? Me?
I guess I’d really gotten good at pretending.
“Definitely not this boy,” I reassured her, lifting my eyes to meet hers so she could read my sincerity.
She nodded, seeming relieved. “Saturday morning you will be at this appointment. You can meet Finn later.”
I blew out air between my lips, already dreading it. “Fine.” I turned to head upstairs and stopped when a thought struck me. I called back to her. “But no pink. Or peach! Or yellow...or pastels of any kind!”
I heard her laughter trailing behind her as she disappeared down the hall.
“That wasn’t reassuring.” I grimaced as I stomped upstairs.
* * *
October’s weird warm weather was definitely over, and it had up and disappeared with an abruptness similar to my life in California. Wearing a short jacket and long-ass scarf I’d followed Eloise, Bryce, Joshua and Charlotte behind the rowing center at Lake Quinsigamond to the dock to watch Finn and his crew beat Plymouth.
Afterward Gil dropped us off at a coffeehouse and the entire time we sat at the table together Finn acted like I didn’t exist. He’d been acting like I didn’t exist the whole day. Except for the moment he got annoyed at me because Jasper was flirting with me instead of watching the race for the school paper. Annoyed at me! Like I wanted that creep to flirt with me. The rest of the day could be counted as having gone well, though, with everyone else seeming to be used to me now.
When Saturday morning came around, I definitely counted the crew race as the highlight of my week.
Mirrors covered the walls on either side of the circular room I found myself sitting in. It was a bright room, lights reflecting off the glass; a sweet perfume hung in the air and oversize vases filled with dusty pink hydrangeas sat on either side of the entrance to the dressing room.
The stylish and immaculately turned-out sales assistant handed me a glass of champagne, and Hayley said, “Oh. Okay. Just one. To celebrate.”
The Impossible Vastness of Us Page 10