Free Swimming to Tokyo by Brenda St John Brown Page B

coaster ride this night has turned into.
    Finn hears it, too, and bites his lip. “Okay, fine. The summer I was twelve I broke my leg, cracked it in three places. It sucked. All my friends were out playing basketball or street hockey, and I could barely move. I watched them from the front porch sometimes, but it was so hot and my cast would itch, so I’d end up going back inside. One day the guy across the street brought over a guitar. Said it belonged to his daughter but she never played it anymore and maybe I’d like it. I had nothing to do anyway, so I started messing around. The first song I learned to play was ‘Stairway to Heaven.’I started making up my own stuff a couple years later when I realized it was a way to figure out things that didn’t make any sense at all.”
    That’s not an embarrassing story. It’s an invitation to ask about the song in the bar. I don’t want to hear him say he thought I was somebody or something else, but I have to acknowledge it somehow. “Your song earlier—what’s it called?”
    “I don’t know. It’s not finished.” There’s a moment then when we could touch, I think, but neither one of us take it. His voice is low when he speaks again. “You know, the thing about strangers on an airplane is they never see each other again.”
    “That can probably be arranged.” I try to sound flippant, but don’t quite pull it off.
    He continues as if I haven’t spoken. “I would just think this game could get a little intense.”
    “Game?”
    “Trust. Honesty. Whatever it is.”
    I furrow my brow at him. “That’s not a game. It just is.”
    “Is it?” His snort makes it clear that he disagrees with me. Completely.
    “You either trust someone or you don’t. You tell the truth or you lie.” Almost as an afterthought, I add, “Don’t you?”
    “There’s a sliding scale and you know it. You tell your dad one thing and Mindy another. Everybody does it.”
    “So what’s your point?”
    “I’m going to need to work on my honesty if we keep this up, so I should know your scale.”
    “Hmmm…” I’m buying time. All of a sudden I’m not sure how truthful I should be. “Well, you were right about the night I ran into you. I only told Mindy I went for a walk.” But I didn’t even tell Mindy everything. I told her about Finn, but not the end. Not the part where I thought he might kiss me.
    “That doesn’t count and you know it. One to ten? How honest are you?” he asks.
    “Probably a six. Maybe seven,” I say. “How about you?”
    “I’m pretty comfortable around a four. Five, tops.” I’m about to feel bad, but he adds, “Except tonight. That was a ten.”
    I’m glad my arms are crossed over my chest because my ribs might shatter from the way my heart slams against them. Hard and unexpected. I expect him to say something else or do something or…something. But he doesn’t and I finally turn toward the lobby. “I should, um, go. Thanks for tonight. For everything.” I gesture to my dress, but that’s not what I mean.
    “Any time.” His black eyes hold mine, then slide to the corner of my lips, my jawline, up to my hair. I follow the path of his gaze and imagine his mouth tracing the journey his eyes are making. His eyes linger in the hollow of my cheekbone, next to my ear. I can almost feel his hot breath on my face, even though he’s an arm’s length away. My stomach floods with anticipation as Finn lifts his hand and runs his finger lightly down my bare arm. His touch is just a whisper, but it burns like he’s holding an open flame to my skin.
    His hand closes around my wrist for less than a second before he thrusts his hand back in his pocket and takes a deliberate step backward.
    “I, um, need to go,” he says.
    “Why?” It comes out before I can stop it, although thank God I stop before I blurt out the No you don’t on the tip of my tongue.
    “I…It’s late. I just need to go.” He says the last part without spaces in between.