"You're really not telling me where we're going?" I asked, keeping my eyes shut as ordered. It was Friday evening, the date night Finn had planned and I sat in the front seat of his beat-up car, a muffled Greg Laswell song coming from the crappy speakers.
Finn laughed quietly. "Nope. And you better not peek."
I turned my head towards him and cracked my fingers open threateningly. "Or what?"
"Or you'll ruin it. And that's against your medical nature."
I managed to roll my eyes behind shut lids. "That's a lame excuse."
"Fine. If you want to ruin what I spent the week meticulously planning then go ahead."
"No," I sighed with faux impatience. "I'll wait."
But when I felt the car's tires jostle more than usual, bumping over what I could only presume was a dirt road, the false impatience turned a little more genuine. "Can you at least tell me what direction we're going in?"
"Forward."
I leaned against the headrest, smirking to myself. "You're really testing me, Collins."
"Gotta find some way to keep the relationship fresh, Griffin."
Greg Laswell turned into some somber number and Finn reached up to switch it off, which I appreciated. Another handful of minutes passed before the car finally shuddered to a halt.
Finn put it in park. "Here."
I wiggled my hands. "Where's 'here?'"
The creak of the door signaled to me that he was getting out of the car. I heard his footsteps as he came over to my side and opened my own door. Cool air prickled my skin.
"No looking yet," he instructed.
"Why? Do you want me to trip?"
"No, but if you're opposed to walking a little, I can always carry you bridal style."
I shook my head, lowering one hand so he could take hold. Soft fingers wrapped around mine. "All right, come on. It's just up here."
"What is?"
"Patience, Grasshopper."
I let him lead me on, to where I had no idea. I did trip once, toe catching on a pothole, but Finn steadied me before I could fall on the ground. Gravel crunched under my sneakers and I heard the high-pitched keen of some kind of gate being opened.
"Almost," Finn said, dragging out the word. He took me by the shoulders and steered me a little farther before turning me around. "Sit."
"There's something for me to sit on right?"
He sighed melodramatically. "No trust. Yes. Sit. I've got you."
Using his arms as support, I leaned back until I felt a hard cushion beneath me. I relaxed, settling into the chair. It rocked back a little, making me grip the sides.
"All right. Now hang tight," he said, his hands disappearing from me. My eyes cracked open, not enough to make out anything, though. "Finn?"
"Don't look!"
"What're you-?"
"Got it!"
The chair under me suddenly kicked, moving beneath me. I let out a yelp, unable to keep my eyes from flying open. I looked down, gripping the seat that I could now see was part of a Ferris wheel. It wasn't big; just enough to hold five or six carts, but high enough to expose the small theme park around me. It was abandoned, clearly, constructed a mile or so off the highway.
"Oh my gosh!" I shouted, looking back down at Finn who stood by the dilapidated control booth. "What is this?"
He beamed up at me, stopping the motion only when my kart had reached the top. It rocked under me. "What does it look like?"
"It looks like a broken Ferris wheel."
He nodded. "Ahem, fixed Ferris wheel. That's the perk of being an electrical technician. Some say it's nerdy, but c'mon; how many guys can say they've given their girl her very own Ferris wheel?"
I stared at him, torn between astonishment and . . . amusement. "This was what you were doing this week?"
"Yup."
"Why?"
"Because of the view."
I looked out again, to the piles of leftover wood and the remains of a few structures that now looked more like lean-to's. "What view?"
"Look up."
I did, and some of the breath went out of me. I'd seen the stars before, these very constellations, but they seemed brighter here and the few extra feet the Ferris wheel gave made them feel a small world's closer.
I peered back over the side at him. "Did you plan how to get yourself up here too or are you just going to enjoy the view from there the whole time?"
His grin stayed plastered to his face and he stepped out of the control booth. He disappeared from sight and returned a moment later, gripping a small ladder under his arm.
I couldn't keep my own smile off my face and laughed outright. "Are you serious?"
Finn winked up at me. "Can a man carrying a ladder be anything but?" He stopped on my left side and maneuvered the ladder so it reached me. I held it fast as he climbed up, until he practically towered over me. He dropped into the spare space in the cart.
"Isn't this illegal?" I asked, as he stretched his arm out behind me, sighing contentedly. He looked sidelong at me, face unconcerned. "Probably. But the way I see it, I fixed the wheel. I should get a free ride."
"I think that's fair."
Finn smiled. "I also come bearing provisions," he said, taking out a bag of Doritos. I gave an incredulous shake of my head as he opened the bag. We shared it between us.
"And now . . ." Finn leaned into me, just enough for our lips to touch. Sweet and gentle like him. He drew his hands back. "Part two."
I raised my eyebrows. "What, did you get me a carousel as well?"
He tucked his hair behind his ear. "Your sarcasm is adorable and I'd gladly give you one to expand your mini-carnival but this is actually smaller."
He dug around in his coat pocket, producing a little box about the side of my palm.
I smiled, taking it gingerly in my hands. "What's this for?"
He rubbed his own hands together, leaning forward so the cart swayed slightly. "This is for nothing. It is a nothing present for a nothing occasion."
I gawked at him, feeling my eyebrows raise impossibly higher. "Then what was the Ferris wheel for?"
"The Ferris wheel was just me providing the view."
I made a face. "How high do you think my standards are?"
He peered down, gauging the distance. "'Bout seven feet."
I grinned, a warm feeling spreading through me. Thalia had been right; there was none of that blazing electricity one spoke of in books between me and Finn but this . . . this was probably better. It was safe. It was sweet. And it made me feel important in a way that no good grade ever could.
I looked back to the box again. "I don't have to close my eyes again, do I?"
"No."
I nodded, and pulled off the lid.
Nestled inside the box of cotton gleamed something small and metal, connected to a chain. I didn't know what it was until I pulled it out, staring at the metallic bird hanging there, perpetually frozen in flight.
It wasn't gaudy or decorated in bling. It was intricate, yet simple. Like me.
I stared between it and Finn.
"I didn't buy it," he said hurriedly, knowing how much I hated it when he spent an unreasonable amount of money on anything for me. "I made it."
My lips parted in surprise, and I looked back at the bird with newfound interest. "You made it?"
He smiled his lopsided one. "I did. And legally, too."
My jaw worked, but I couldn't find the right words. A thank you didn't really cover it, so I settled for pulling him to me and pressing my lips to his. "It's beautiful," I said as I drew back. I opened the clasp to put it on but Finn took it out of my hands.
"Allow me," he said. He draped it over my neck and the wings of the bird rested cold against my skin, just beneath the hollow of my throat. I held onto it as he fastened the chain, smiling to myself. To the abandoned carnival world around me.
I smiled over at Finn. "You're kind of amazing, you know that?"
He gave me a look that was anything but self-deprecating and wrapped his arms around me, my head on his shoulder. We stayed there for a while, watching the stars and folded into each other. When the wind started to pick up, throwing my hair around me and signaling a brewing storm, Finn clapped his hands.
"All right; part three!"
I looked after him in surprise, as he reached for the ladder. "There's a part three?"
Finn shook his head at me, disbelieving. "No one stops on part two, Griffin. Part two is for the uncreative."
*******
Part three was apparently The Plot—one of the larger bookstores downtown. I was kind of partial to small bookstores myself, fond of the cozy decorum, but any place with books was a welcomed sight to me. Especially a bookstore that was open until midnight.
It was a half-hour to, and Finn had found something on nanoelectronics while I had amassed a small collection on child psychology and a thin book on social services. I wasn't exactly sure why I'd grabbed it, but I found myself buying it anyway, after rejecting Finn's offer to do so himself.
He'd argued, of course, but I was stubborn and he had no choice but to acquiesce.
"Did you have fun tonight?" He asked as we settled back in the car, the stack of books balanced on my lap.
I smiled, taking his free hand in mine and assured him I had. But before we reached the house, I asked him to stop at the seven-eleven.
"I'm fine on gas," he said.
I opened the door. "I know. I just want to get some candy." I needed to re-stock my cookie jar, almost wishing I hadn't told Octavia about 'd swiped at least half the peanut butter cups from it the other day and I had a rule that chocolate needed to be in the house at all times.
Finn shook his head, clicking his tongue in mock ridicule. "You and your jar. Fine. I'll go get your candy."
"You don't even know what"—
"Reese's," he said, tossing me a smile before hopping out of the car.
I opened my mouth to protest. "And"—
"Skor Bars, I know the drill." Finn raised his wallet as he passed across the windshield. "But I get to pay for this!" He cast a knowing look over his shoulder. "And don't you hide a five dollar bill in my car."
I sighed, but let him go, leaning my head back, glancing around the empty lot. Or, nearly empty. A high squeal came from my right as the driver whipped his vehicle into the lot and I mentally reprimanded him for the recklessness. But I just shut my eyes, waiting for Finn.
A few seconds later I opened them again, looking towards the front door as he exited, white bag in hand. He smiled at me.
Someone came out from behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. Finn turned around, facing the man I couldn't make out clearly from underneath his dark hood.
I watched, as Finn's back suddenly went ramrod straight. He dropped the bag on the ground, white plastic shuddering in the wind, and a small voice warned me that something wasn't right. A coldness settled inside me, chilling me to the bone.
Finn wrested his wallet out of his pocket and handed it to the hooded man just as a strong gust of wind caught under his hood and swept it back. I couldn't make out much, the gas station lights spectral and poor, but I didn't think I imagined the look of panic that crossed over the man's face.
Finn shook his head.
And that was when a gunshot pierced the night air.