Learning Curve

Finn

The penthouse elevator opens with a ding into an elaborate hallway of marble, crystal light fixtures, expensive-as-hell-looking wallpaper and a fancy-ass couch. There’s a single door to the apartment that takes up this whole floor at the other end of the short hall, and the shiny lacquered-looking black paint and gold numbering on it looks like it costs more than my entire childhood house.

Julia looks beautiful as always, her hair swept back into a half-up mess of curls. She’s wearing a cream-colored sweaterdress and brown leather boots and talking about the Daenerys costume her mom supposedly has for her inside.

I hang back while she and Ace pull ahead, not wanting to be involved in the big surprise.

Ace and Julia laugh as they run toward the door, having done it a million times in their lifetime. They’re comfortable and happy and loved.

I don’t have any fucking clue what that must be like.

Hands in my pockets, I slow nearly to a stop as Ace pushes the door open to the waiting crowd, all of whom yell, “Surprise!” with the kind of volume that seems like it would rattle the building.

Julia screams in response, covering her face and bursting into tears. Ace is the first to wrap her in a hug but is followed shortly by a beautiful, older version of Julia and a dapper dude in a suit I have to assume is her dad.

I feel incredibly out of place for about ten seconds or so, but as soon as the initial hugs are over, Julia turns and runs to me, throwing her arms around my neck for a hug of our own.

It’s awkward and unexpected, but as Ace looks on with a giant grin, I extricate my hands from my pockets and hug her back. “Happy birthday, Jules.”

She pulls away with a brilliant smile and then kisses me on the cheek. “Thanks, Finn.”

I nod as she runs off again, back into the apartment where a whole host of people are waiting, and Ace takes her place, swinging an arm around my shoulders and dragging me inside.

It’s just as elaborate as I imagined it would be upon stepping out of the elevator, but also ten times more surreal. Every edge of trim, every surface, every piece of furniture is perfect. Perfect in size and proportion to the place and in style and condition—the exact opposite of our hand-me-downs in Westchester.

The black cabinets in the kitchen stretch all the way to the twelve-foot ceilings, and candles burn in both the center of the fireplace to the left of the living room and on the mantel. Servers in bow ties circle the crowd, handing out appetizers from gleaming silver trays.

Floor-to-ceiling windows make up the entire back wall, the center of which contains two giant French doors. They’re open to the patio, which is enormous on its own and adorned with more purple flowers than I’ve ever seen before, and fancy white sofas. Heaters run in the corners to keep the space from chilling too much.

I spin in a circle, trying to take it all in. “Hi, Finn,” Ace’s mom greets me warmly when I come to a stop facing her. My eyes are the size of saucers—I know they have to be—but she doesn’t say anything. “I’m so glad you could come tonight.”

“Hi, Mrs. Kelly,” I reply.

She waves a hand in between us. “Call me Cassie, please.” It feels weird, but so does everything else about being here. It’s not worth it to disagree.

“Right. Cassie. Thanks for having me.”

Out of nowhere, Ace is on my shoulders like a monkey—a regular occurrence in our relationship—yanking me around the couch and off to the balcony where all of the young people have evidently gathered. I wave to Cassie in apology, but Ace’s shout overshadows it. “Come on, Finn. Stop talking to my mom and come meet the cool people.”

I take a Coke from a waiter as we scoot out the door, and Ace grabs a Dr Pepper for himself. An uneasiness creeps back into my stomach as we approach the large group outside, but Ace keeps me close so Julia can introduce me to everyone.

“Oh! Mom, Dad, this is my friend Finn,” she says excitedly, turning her parents around from the photo they were taking to face me. I hold out my hand for her dad, and he takes it and shakes it with a smile.

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Julia’s mom is beautiful as she offers a friendly grin and a wave. I nod. “Ma’am.”

“No, need to be formal, Finn! I’ve heard all about you from both Julia and Ace. They speak very highly of you,” Julia’s mom says then. An undeniable warmth spreads in my abdomen and ends in a blush that radiates to my ears. “I’m Georgia, and this is Kline.” She turns behind her and yells to the other side of the balcony. “Evie, come meet Julia’s friend!”

Another blonde with bright-blue eyes and the boy who’s with her—who is undoubtedly Ace’s little brother, Gunnar—walk our direction at Georgia’s call.

I’m introduced to them and a whole other group of men and their wives—members of his dad’s book club, according to Ace’s whispered info—and several other rambunctious children before things get really interesting.

On the far side of the patio, a TV is playing the Dickson away game against Duke, with a whole other group watching.

I notice Lexi Winslow immediately, standing with a pretty lady with a kind smile. Her hair is a dirty-blond color, and she’s got her arm looped through the elbow of a man in an expensive suit.

“Lex!” Ace calls, getting her attention. “What’s the score?”

“Fourteen to fourteen, tied up. Dickson has the ball in the red zone, and they just called the two-minute warning.”

“No worries, then. Boden’s got this,” Ace says confidently, making Lexi snort.

“His two interceptions in the third quarter say differently.”

“Don’t be so hard on the guy,” Ace chides. “He can’t help it that he’s in love with you.”

“In love?” The man in the suit scowls. “He’s several years younger than you.”

Lexi rolls her eyes. “I hardly know him, Dad. You can relax.”

The woman with them waggles her eyebrows, touching the man’s chest. “You’re going to have to stop being so protective at some point.”

I lick my lips, my shoulders at my ears with anxiety. If my context clues are correct, the woman in question is my sister.

“Uncle Wes, Aunt Winnie, this is my roommate, Finn,” Ace introduces then, confirming my suspicions beyond a shadow of a doubt.

I force a smile even though my nervous system is on overload. Fight-or-flight engaged, I’m mere seconds away from buzzing the tower, Maverick-style.

“Oh! Yay!” Winnie cries excitedly, pulling me into a hug so familiar, my heart races. “Roommates with Ace, huh? You must deserve an award for saint of the year!” Her smile is so bright, her eyes so kind, and her heart feels excruciatingly close to her sleeve. Her husband laughs at her joke and pulls her close, kissing her on the head before excusing himself and stepping away.

It’s not rude, though. Thatch is literally crow-calling him from the other side of the patio.

I have to lick my lips to stop the sting of tears in my eyes as I answer her. “You know, surprisingly, he’s not that bad.”

She laughs and reaches out to touch my shoulder with a gentle hand, and everything I thought I knew about what I was doing at Dickson shatters in an instant.

It’s easy to ignore the signs that Ty is decent or that the other boys have something to offer other than being stuck-up pricks. But it’s impossible not to see some of Willow in Winnie, and the strongest part of my façade cracks just a little.

“Thank hell for that. All his mom talks about is figuring out a way to pay off the politicians to keep her two hoodlums out of jail!”

“Come on inside, everyone!” Georgia calls from just inside the apartment. “Julia’s about to blow out the candles!”

“You coming?” Ace calls over his shoulder when I don’t immediately head that direction with everyone else.

I nod. “I’ll be just a sec. Just wanted to see the last play of the game.”

He gives me an avid thumbs-up and takes off into the apartment, and I turn to the TV to make my moment of silence plausible.

Blake snaps back with the ball in his hands, poised at the two-yard line as he scours the receivers in front of him. He pump-fakes to the back side of the end zone once, but our tight end gets open just in the nick of time that he gets the pass off before the defensive line tackles him to the ground. The catch is good, and the crowd goes wild as Dickson seals yet another victory.

I watch avidly for any glimpse of the cheerleaders as our kicker puts in the extra point easily, and the crowd rushes the field.

Scottie and the cheerleaders mesh into a blob of football players, everyone hugging and jumping excitedly, but in the melee, the quarterback for the other team approaches her, saying something and handing her the football that we just put through the uprights. She blushes and accepts it, and my blood pressure hits an all-time high.

“Is that a show of good sportsmanship?” one commentator remarks.

But the other one answers, “I don’t know, Don. I think Duke’s QB might just be smitten with one of Dickson’s cheerleaders.” They make another joke about star-crossed lovers, and I shake my head.

She’s obviously really concerned with what happened between us still. Two weeks and she’s taking footballs from stupid fucking—

“Finn!” Ace yells from the door again. “Come on, dude! My mom won’t light the candles until you get in here for some reason.”

Shoving down every raging emotion inside me, I jog toward Ace’s call quickly and step inside as Julia takes her place behind a massive pink-and-white cake on the kitchen island. Cassie eyes Ace and me closely before giving Georgia the nod to light the candles and then Thatch to turn down the lights.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Julia. Happy birthday to you,” we all sing in unison. Julia smiles brightly at us all before blowing out the candles, and everyone claps for her when she’s done.

Meeting Winnie, seeing Scottie on TV, knowing my birthdays will never be like this—it’s all too much.

I shove past Ace with the best smile I can manage, the hallway bathroom in my sights. I make it through the crowd and into the hall with only a little struggle and am just about to grab the knob on the bathroom door when a hand on my shoulder stops me.

The last person in the world I’m expecting is Ace’s mom. I jolt at the sight of her, and she bites her lip in apology. A gift bag hangs from the fingers of her right hand.

I imagine she doesn’t want me to miss the gift-opening either.

“I’m just going to the bathr—”

“Finn,” she cuts me off. “I wanted to find a quiet moment because I had a feeling you wouldn’t want me making a scene.” My eyebrows draw together. “Fuck knows my family has a special flair for it.” She lifts the bag in front of herself, directly toward me. “Happy birthday.”

“How do you know it’s my—”

She lifts her hand, cutting me off. “What are you, a cop? The how of how I know isn’t important. Just take it.”

Unsure what else to do, I take the bag from her hand and nod. She pats me on the shoulder and walks away, and I go into the bathroom as originally intended.

But now, I have a gift to open.

My hands shake as I pull the tissue paper out of the small blue bag, lay it on the sink, and dig around inside. One item at a time, I empty the unexpected gesture of its contents and study each of them closely. There’s a brand-new pair of headphones and a card with a thousand dollars inside signed with all our love. There’s also a pack of condoms, which is weird, but not outside the realm of expectation.

I have to sit down on the edge of the tub as a wave of awareness moves over me.

Dickson University isn’t turning out to be what I thought it would be at all. There’s conflict and pain and hard choices and everything in between, but there’s so much more.

People care about me. People who hardly even know me but accept the things they do.

Dickson’s not just a fucked-up family—it’s also the good kind.