Page 17 of Meet Cute

Seeing him so bothered makes me feel shitty. Has he never received a lick of positive attention ever? I’m sure someone else in my situation would feel the need to get all defensive, but regardless of what I did I made him feel bad—which is worthy of an apology.

“Sorry.” It sounds less convincing than I want it to be. “I don’t… I don’t think you’re not capable or anything like that. I know what that guy said was shitty, but you know I don’t think about you like that, right?”

“...Like what?”

“Like… lesser than.” God, I hope I’m not making a fool of myself. I can’t ever say shit right, especially not when it’s important. “You’re just Finn, and I like Finn. Finn is cool, and good at driving.”

Finn’s panic lulls, and the corners of his mouth lift up hesitantly. “I’m not that good at driving.”

“Sure you are,” I beam at him. “Now… how do you feel about a little game of dress up?”

THIRTEEN

“This is… um…” Blushing, Finn steps out of the changing room with the grace of a fish out of water. His nerdy tee has been replaced with a pale teal sweater, distressed jeans swapped out for a pair of baggy black sweatpants. “I don’t think t-this is really me.”

“You’re not wrong,” I murmur as I walk a few circles around him. “But I think you look nice.”

His posture tells me everything I need to know. Raised shoulders, legs squeezed together, and a smile so forced you’d think I was holding him hostage. “Can I change back now?”

“Yeah, you can.”

When he comes back out again to grab the bag of clothes he already bought, his outfit has reverted back to the typical GameStop dweller. The fact that he expresses his interest via clothing is sort of sweet, to be honest.

“I’m really… happy that we can do stuff like this.” All those soft words come out of left field. “I really like being your friend, Duncan.”

I look down at my feet. “I like being your friend, too. C'mon, I wanna—”

“W-Wait! It’s… we have to do your turn, too.”

“My turn?”

“Nothing c-crazy,” he says while offering me a small sunflower hairclip sitting on his open palm. “Matches your sweater.”

I can’t help but grin at that. Why the hell does the dorkiest shit have me smiling like an idiot? “That’s cute. Thank you.”

Plucking it from his hand, I clip back some loose hair near my temple. It's probably really silly, but it does match my outfit.

“It's so cute on you!” Finn chirps before standing up on tippy toes to see it better. Having him all up in my face makes my brain short circuit. “T-Thanks for wearing it, um… What do you wanna do next?”

“Record store? I haven’t used my record player in literally a decade, but I still wanna check it out.”

Finn simply nods, walking maybe a little too close to me as we enter the main hall of the shopping center. It’s nothing special, but what else would you expect from a small town? The smooth brick tiles underneath us are almost green, with low white walls that are more reminiscent of a psychiatric ward than a mall.

The record store isn’t much better. Old wooden walls, the most dated posters I’ve ever seen, and a strangely well maintained dark gray carpeted floor. Yet there’s something comforting about it. Maybe it’s all the familiar faces on album covers, or maybe it’s just the fact Finn’s face lights up the second we step inside.

“No way!” Excitement radiates off of Finn while he runs over to the metal section. Only stopping for a second, he pivots to the soft rock section right next to it instead. “I can’t believe they h-have this!”

My head tilts. “You like… soft rock?”

Finn beams excitedly. “U-Uh huh! I like… I like a lot of things. Music is… nice.” Bouncing on his feet, he seems extra fidgety. “That was dumb. S-Sorry. Forget I even said anything.”

“No, I—”

What do you even say to someone whose brain is ping-ponging off the walls? Whatever sentence comes out of my mouth next better be a good one. “Want me to buy it for you?” God, what? Why would I say that? My card is almost maxed out and I don’t get paid for another week, assuming they’re even gonna pay me after the shit I pulled.

“It’s okay,” Finn insists weakly. “I-I couldn’t ask you to. It’s kinda expensive. I think… I-I’ll just put it back.”

“Finn, it’s really okay.”