The Story of Finneas - [COMPLETED]

5.

On that particular night, the sky was clear and the sun set a little bit late. It was still bright when Finneas and I rode his scooter to our favorite pizza place for the treat he promised me before. The place wasn't that crowded, thankfully, and we got to sit on our favorite seat by the window. As we were waiting for our order to arrive, Finneas sighed long and hard as he put his hair in a bun.

I looked up to him. "What's wrong?" He obviously wanted to be asked, judging from a smirk he was trying to hide.

"I have a date," he sighed once again, even more dramatic this time.

I was both shocked and intrigued. I felt kinda annoyed by that, but I figured I didn't have the right to feel—annoyed? I don't even know.

"Isn't that... a good thing?" I said slowly. "You're finally meeting new people."

"Yeah, at least I think so. I'm just afraid I'm gonna mess it up. I didn't think much about it when I asked her to a date, but I'm now starting to think that I'm not ready yet."

I scoffed. "I think you're more than ready, Finneas. Where did you meet this girl, anyway? Tinder?"

He burst out laughing. "Ha, that's ridiculous. She's just a girl from work, but from a different department. We always meet at the pantry to get a cup of coffee at the same time every day, so after small conversations and getting to know each other, I decided to ask her to get coffee—outside of work." His smile grew as he talked, and somehow my heart felt like it was being stomped on.

"Huh," I cleared my throat before continuing, trying to hide the jealousy in my voice. "Cute story."

The fact that he was talking to other girls besides me was supposed to be natural, I guess. I mean, we're just friends. It's just that I haven't really thought about it. I just thought he was too busy thinking about his ex to be... asking girls on a date. Ugh, I hate myself for even thinking about this.

"Anyway, the date is tomorrow. So don't come looking for me tomorrow, okay kiddo?" He snickered and shuffled my hair, making it into a mess.

I pretended to hurl as a way to mock back. "Why would I be looking for you? You're the one who always asks me out first." I made an ugly face at him as I flattened my hair back with my fingers.

He raised his eyebrows and laughed. "I guess that's right. Well, I'll tell you how it goes later."

My mind was saying please for the love of God, NO, but my mouth only said, "Sure."

***

Two days later, my phone rang when I was back from my morning run. It was Finneas. He had never called that early, so I thought maybe something was going on. I put down my water bottle on the kitchen counter and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, Brooke." Finneas' voice sounded so hoarse.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked.

He let out a few loud coughs. "I'm having the worst hangover ever."

I sighed, relieved to know that he's okay. "I'm guessing the date didn't go so well, then?"

"I'll tell you all about it later on brunch. You can go to brunch with me, right? I have this place that I really want to try."

He's always like this, I thought. Asking me to go here and there so suddenly, and yet I can't even refuse.

"Sure, sure." I replied briefly.

"Meet me there at 10 then? I'll send you the location. See you later!" He then hung up immediately, before I could even say anything.

***

When I arrived, Finneas was already there, sitting on the outdoor area. This place was little, but it seemed comfortable. I walked up to him and he noticed me. He smiled and waved, and I couldn't help but smile back. He didn't look bad at all for a person who was hungover. A black-haired waiter came and took our order—the food was fancy, by the way.

"Can we get bottomless mimosas here?" Finneas asked, and immediately my eyes widened.

I smacked his hand lightly. "Are you crazy? You're hungover!" I gave him a sharp gaze. He sighed and ordered coffee instead.

After the waiter went back inside with our order, he let out a huge sigh. "Are you ready?"

"To hear the story about your awful date? Hell yeah!" I replied excitedly.

He blinked. "Who said it was awful?"

I raised my eyebrows. "What? So it went well?"

"Yeah, she was a cool person," he said enthusiastically. "She was pretty, outspoken, smart, and all that. After dinner, we went to Sizzles and drank a lot. That's why I'm hungover."

I cursed silently. There it is again, the feeling of my heart being stomped on. I somehow felt insulted. How could he bring her to Sizzles? The place where we always hang out? It made me feel worse when I realized I probably shouldn't be thinking that way.

"She's great and all, but I don't think there's gonna be a second date." He smiled softly.

I looked up to him, confused. "Why?"

"I thought I was ready, but I'm really not ready after all," he said slowly, as if he was trying to explain something complicated. "I can't help but think about... her. I have this gut feeling that says I still have a chance with her. I know it's stupid, but I just kept holding on to that feeling." I knew immediately that he was talking about his ex. He was staring at an empty space; his pupils stayed on one spot, like he was recalling old memories.

I felt like crying. To think—to hope, that I even had a chance with him...

"Hey," I heard Finneas' voice. He nudged my hand gently with his. I must've gone silent for a few moments there. "Are you okay?"

I cleared my throat before answering, "Yeah, my stomach was hurting a bit. But it's fine now," I made up an excuse and forced myself to smile.

"Just let it out on the restroom, then." He pointed towards the restroom inside.

"It's not like that!" I almost yelled at him, feeling embarrassed. Finneas chuckled, and I knew he got me.

The waiter came with our food, and soon enough Finneas started picking out the pieces of olives in his mini-pizzas and put them on my plate—like usual. He then stared at me, waiting for me to do the same with the yolk in my eggs benedicts. It's weird, I think, how we're so accustomed to each other to know our small, irrelevant habits; yet we sometimes still feel distant. At least I do—especially every time he talks about his ex. She was there on that part of his life, and I'm here on this part of his life; feeling the same way about him.

Sadly, she was luckier.