Page 18 of Meet Cute

Squeezing his eyes shut, Finn puts the record down and grips at his pants too tightly. “No… it’s not. I-I never know what to say. God, fuck—I hate being this way! So r-retarded…”

“Hey,” my voice goes lower than intended as I step closer to him, “don’t say that. You don’t have to call yourself that. It’s not true.”

“It is!” He whisper-shouts at me, but his misty eyes aren’t lost on me. “Everyone always says that to me. Everyone. H-How can it not be true?”

Do I understand entirely? Of course not. But I do understand how it feels to have stupid fucking labels placed on you, and I sure as hell get how it feels to be told who you are.

“I think you’re just hungry,” I mumble while taking his hand and leading him out of the store. My plan works perfectly, disarming his potential meltdown entirely since now he’s wordlessly staring at me in surprise.

It’s easy to avoid breaking down if you distract yourself, but having someone else distract you is even better. I can’t even count how many times Haley has saved me from totally losing it.

He doesn’t speak until we’re in the food court, the glass ceiling showing off the midday sky in all its glory. Despite being lunchtime, it’s not busy at all. That’s the benefit of coming on weekdays.

“W-Wait,” Finn finally stops, planting his heels into the sandy peach tiling below. “I don’t… I’m not even hungry.”

I shrug. “Sure you are. Do you want pizza, a hot dog, or chicken?”

“Duncan, I’m not hungry.”

“Finn, I’m going to buy you lunch. So what do you want?”

“...Pizza.”

It really does work every time. Haley used it all throughout high school. Even on the day she left for her big move, she bought me ice cream at the airport. I always imagined it felt miserable for her, but this actually feels nice. Seeing him that happy makes me want to be happy too.

Do I know what the hell that even means? No, but I think it’s good. How could something bad feel this warm and fuzzy?

FOURTEEN

“It’s good,” Finn says with a mouthful of pepperoni pizza. For someone who was adamant on not being hungry he sure didn’t put up any resistance. “Do you wanna t-try some of mine?”

Before I even get to respond he’s thrusting the droopy slice right into my mouth. Of course it’s good. It’s nothing but grease and cheese, how could it ever be gross? Still, something about his soft gaze is making me get all shy.

I’m not naive. There’s a faint hint of something hungry in his soft eyes, something that seems so unlike his character that I have no idea what it could even be. I guess he is still a guy after all, and if he does have a crush on me then maybe…

No. It’s nothing. I’m getting ahead of myself again. I’m his first friend. Just because he enjoys spending time with me and gets all happy doesn’t mean we’re gonna ride off into the sunset together.

“Thanks for the food.” I don’t miss how he happily kicks his legs when he finishes. I must really be stupid to ever imagine him being capable of anything other than sweetness. “Um… Would you… Would you like to go to the game store with me?”

“The… board game one?”

“Y-Yeah! I like… collecting, um, cards. Sorry.” Finn’s lips purse as his eyes shift downwards. “I know it’s kind of… nerdy.”

The way he’s still acting all coy about that stuff makes me chuckle. “You’re wearing a comic book shirt. I know that you’re kind of nerdy, Finn. I like it.”

“You like it?”

“Uh—yeah.”

The smile that sprawls across his face reminds me of when we first met. That’s something I’ve come to appreciate about him. He manages to smile so sweetly despite the fact life has honestly sort of sucked for him. I went through one bad thing and immediately felt ready to off myself, but he’s still standing tall.

Of course I don’t know everything. I couldn’t. But I feel I know enough to know how genuine he is. This kindness isn’t an act, it’s a part of him. Just because someone isn’t always kind doesn’t mean they aren’t kind.

“We’re… friends, right?” His thick brows raise, digits idly tugging at the cardboard plate his food was served on. “Like… real friends?”

I’d love to pretend this question is totally random and came out of nowhere, but I’ve been wondering about it too. How do you know you’re friends with someone without explicitly saying it?

“Of course.” The corners of my mouth curl up. “We’re… we’re friends, Finn. Real friends.”