Chapter Twenty-One

Finn's locking up Burts after the session when Frankie knocks into my side and says, "You wanna come over to Taylor's with me to tomorrow and help us make pins to give out to the girls next session?"

"Um, sure." I give Frankie a thumbs up and Taylor a smile. Finn soon joins us.

Tonight was rad," he says, his voice warm and smile wide. Taylor rests an arm casually on his shoulder though she's much shorter than he is.

"Fancy helping us make pin badges tomorrow at mine?" Taylor asks, still super casual.

"Won't your dad have a fit if he finds a boy at Casa Grayson?"

Taylor shrugs. "He won't be there - he's in Reno for some conference about something entirely boring I've completely erased from memory, so it's all good."

"Go on, you know it'll be fun," I say, with my best smile.

"Go on then," he says, lazily. "Count me in for some fight-the-patriarchy-pin making."

Frankie high-fives the warm night air and skips ahead to leave with Taylor. They begin to merrily skate away with arms linked, gliding along with total ease. Briefly turning back, Taylor throws us both a wink and shouts, "See you crazy kids tomorrow!"

"Tonight really was rad," I say, just parroting back his earlier words but it's all I can think of. "The girls all seemed to enjoy it too."

He nods and his hair flops over one eye. "They sure did. I did too."

I sigh out and think of how they'd watched in awe as Taylor cleared a ramp like she was Danny Way and later, when she taught them how to change trucks and wheels. Wherever she skated, they followed. It was the coolest thing ever to witness.

"I don't know why I never thought about opening up Burt's like that myself." Finn props his leg against the door to Burt's and looks up at the dark, star-lit sky.

I think of him, not even half an hour ago, teaching Kathi how to perfect her already impressive kickflip. How he was genuinely interested in helping her and others, but how he was happy to take a back seat and not showboat across the floor like Boyd and his goon squad would if given half the chance.

"I can't wait for the next session." I press my hands deep into my jean pockets and join him by the door. "And well, tomorrow should be fun too."

"You wanna get a head start home?" He nods towards the dim lights of the cottages dotted along the boardwalk. Somewhere past the Hawkins and the Williams is the Blooms. "I can skate with you?"

I dig deeper into my pockets because the thought of him doing that again makes my palms sweat. I hate how it still holds me - the fear of Boyd finding out. Finn catches on soon enough.

"Half-way," he says, knowingly, "I'll skate back with you half-way so not to incur the potential wrath of the Blooms." He pretends to pray and I jokily knock his hands away.

"Don't do that."

He wiggles his dark eyebrows at me. "Do what? Speak the truth?"

"I just hate being reminded of it," I confess slowly. "I mean, yeah I'm worried about what he'll," Quickly I correct myself, "they'll think."

"Boyd probably will still throw a shit fit."

"Probably."

"But it wouldn't matter who you we're skating with Sydney, not really. Personally, I think someone like Boyd Bloom has always been aware of your potential as a solid skater and he's jealous, envious even."

"That's really nice of you to say that but-"

Finn leans his shoulder in close to mine. "Because everything has been handed to him on a plate but you've carved out this path for yourself. No legacy to prop you up. No hefty contracts or skate deals to pay your pay through life. Just you and your own determination."

He breaks to suck in a deep breath. "Boyd Bloom - as good as he is - hasn't got anything on you and it's his loss that he chose not to put you on his team. He'd be so damn lucky."

Caught completely off guard, I slump down onto my board and have to take a long minute to process. It's as if a plug holes been pulled deep in my chest and everything inside me is swirling down and down.

"Hey, you okay?" Finn asks and the concern in his voice registers. He takes to slump down next to me, the board tipping slightly from both our weight.

"It's just..." I find it hard to squeeze the words out with everything rushing through me. How overwhelming it is. The potential of it all: like tonight and the people who made it possible. People like Frankie and Taylor, and Finn, the kind of friends I never thought I'd ever have.

"I'm just... going to really miss all of this," I say, quietly. "You, Frankie, Taylor, this place." I point up at Burt's sign, the lights of but the bulbs still faintly buzzing. "I thought that coming here again would be like all the times before. But it's been better. So much better."

"It's been all the better for having you in it Sydney," Finn replies, his voice quiet too, reflective.

I shift my weight on the board and sigh out, "I don't want the summer to end," because if I don't let my feelings out I might cry. I feel it burn in my throat, fighting to break out. "It's sucks I have to leave so soon."

Beside me Finn squeezes my balled up hand in his.

"Honestly, there's no one like you guys back home. No one who wants to skate with me, let alone talk to me like you do." The truth of it all pulls at me like a toothache all over. "And in a couple of weeks I'll be back there. I won't see any of you. It'll be like none of it ever happened."

"They'll always be a place for here Sydney," Finn says, "and it's not the end. We'll meet up. We can still talk, you know."

I squeeze the fleshy part of his thumb hooked around mine. "You promise?'

"Of course. Frankie's even been talking about taking a road trip up the coast before thanksgiving, so you can't rid of us that easy." His smile eases some of the pain I feel stab in my chest though I get the sense he's fighting back some of his own too.

"Thanks for always listening," I say, feeling a mix of relief and stupidity for just spilling my guts.

"It's good to talk."

I smile at him, pushing in my bottom lip. Finn scrunches his nose at me, and then he leans in, his face coming closer until everything but his eyes blur. Is he going to kiss me, properly on the lips? I feel another stab erupt in my chest but it this time it's not painful.

Brushing past my mouth, Finn plants a kiss on my left cheek. I feel his lips tickle my skin. And it's a different kind of kiss than the one he'd given me on Frankie's porch step. It has an evolved meaning. The connection is sweeter and deeper. It feels like it could last forever.

Looking back at him as he pulls away, I smile and then I lean into him. On his right cheek, just under where a dark smudge of a beauty spot sits, I kiss him. So he can feel it too just like I did.

"Halfway home?" Finn says, some seconds after I've pulled back and we've both stopped blushing.

"Sure," I say, taking his hand, though I feel as if I could easily float away on the feeling burning up my cheek and all over. Up, up and away to someplace where guilt can't find or pull me back down to reality.

***

There's a light on in the kitchen of the Bloom's cottage.

As I slip in through the side gate, I run-through the list of rehearsed excuses about why I'm sneaking in late. It must be Boyd, snacking late in the night - munchies.

I slide back the unlocked door and tiptoe past the kitchen. But it's not Boyd eating pop-tarts. Not Marienne. Not even Daniel, sleepwalking. It's my dad.

"It's a little late, don't you think?" His voices echoes off the walls and startles me. I push my back against the door and slam a hand on my chest to steady my nerves.

"Wow, you scared me," I say, keeping my voice low, but light, as if I've doing nothing wrong. "I thought you were staying overnight in Laguna?"

He tilts his face up at me, to sigh, "I came back so I could have breakfast with my son and daughter in the morning. And sleep in a real bed, not the back of the car for a change."

I swallow hard and inch towards the breakfast counter. "Oh, okay. Cool. That's... nice for you."

"I sent a message earlier about it Sydney."

"You did?"

Dad nods. I fumble for my phone the pocket of my shorts, knowing that I don't even need to to know it's turned off because I've been too busy skating to remember to charge it. "Crap-on-a-stick," I mutter real low.

Dad straightens his back and palms flat on the kitchen counter. I brace myself for the inquisition. "So, Sydney where have you been tonight?"

"Huh? What?" Just like at Burt's I try to skate around the issue of me sneaking out and lying about what I'm doing, and with who.

"The back door was unlocked, I assume this was so you could slip in without using the front?"

I wring my hands together and sigh, "Couldn't sleep, went for a quick skate along the boardwalk."

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. "At this time?"

"Only until the lifeguard hut, then I turned back," I say, my voice catching. "It's not even that far."

"But it's dangerous at this hour Sydney."

I offer a shrug. Too tired to fight it anymore. "I guess, but I'm okay, so what's the problem?"

Pating the seat opposite him, Dad gives me a withering look but I decline. "I know Boyd often smokes round the back or down on the beach with his friends-" he says before I cut him off.

"Dad, I wasn't out there with Boyd, or his stupid friends, jeez."

"You were out by yourself?"

I tap the edge of my board, trying to think of the best way to approach this. Dad will clearly be pissed about me going out alone, but I can't be sure he'll be too happy to the opposite, especially if Finn's name gets a mention.

"Sydney, please don't give me the silent treatment," Dad says, shaking his head again.

"I'm not and, well I wasn't alone. I actually met my friend on the boardwalk."

"Friend?" He chokes out the word, caught in surprise.

"Yes a friend. A girl," I say, quickly shooting down the idea that I might be out with a boy. "Her name's Frankie. She's really nice and sensible and she's easy to talk to, you know, about stuff." I pray that the emphasis on stuff warns him not to delve any deeper, scares him off.

But my dad's in full on dad mode. "Stuff? Like what?"

"Just like girl stuff. You'd never understand."

"Is this about mom?" His wavering words catch me off guard and I know I can't just turn and leave now. "It's just you said that you had trouble sleeping and I'm wondering if that's what's been keeping you up? I know you like to sit outside on the porch back home when things weigh you down."

I shake my head, adamant that it's nothing to do with her.

"Look, I know she hasn't rung this summer and that you're still mad at her for making you spend the last two with her away from here but-"

"I don't care about that anymore."

Dad takes in a deep breath, before narrowing his eyes on me like I'm about to magic myself out of this conversation. "But we should talk about it. We should be able to talk about anything."

"You'd actually have to be here long enough for me to do that," I spit back and I know my words have stung hard before I look up and see Dad with tears in his tired, bloodshot eyes. Instantly I feel terrible. "Dad, I'm sorry for saying that-"

"You have every right to be angry with me," he says, cutting-in. I can hear in his voice how he's retreating, blaming himself maybe more than he should. "I know I haven't been around much, if at all. I know it's hard on you especially."

I approach the breakfast counter. "It's okay. I'm okay dad, honestly." I poke out my pinky finger and nudge his. "Promise."

His hooks onto mine. "Promise?"

I nod. "And I'm sorry for making you worry."

"Please, no more sneaking out, especially so late. I worry about you Sydney."

With gusto and with confidence bubbling over from the earlier skate session at Burt's, and my talk with Finn, I gently tap the top of his hand. "Well you shouldn't," I say, believing it. "I'm a big girl now."