We form a circle. Me and two of the people I care about most in the world. A tiny party of three.
Helen looks Finn up and down. “So you’re the genius.”
Finn nudges me. “Aw, Marlena? Really?”
I like the casual way he touches me and I want to nudge him back. But what if I fell on top of him in the process? “Why are you embarrassed about being smart?”
“Yeah,” Helen says, laughing. She gestures behind her at the rest of the party. “There aren’t too many other geniuses here. I think it’s good to have at least one present. You know, just in case things get out of hand.” Helen grabs my beer and holds the bottle up to the light coming from the house. “Wow, it’s practically still full.” She puts an arm around my shoulder. “Good job. I told this one no puking.”
All of this casual touching is bolstering my spirit. And making me wonder how I ever lived without it.
Finn chuckles. “Yes, Marlena reiterated this excellent advice.”
Helen lets go of my shoulder and turns to me. “You guys should walk to the old bridge. They took down most of it when they built the new one, but they left a bit for the fishermen.” Helen points into the darkness toward a rectangle of lights over the water. “It’s just over there.” Finn turns to look and Helen leans into me to whisper, “He’s supercute. You should take advantage and go be alone with him!” Then she takes a step back, addressing us both again. “Okay, lovebirds,” she sings. “I’m back to my dancing and my Sonia!”
“Enjoy. We’ll be around,” Finn says.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Helen tells him. “Marlena has keys to my place and no curfew. But be good to her or I’ll sic Mama Oliveira on you,” she adds with a twirl and begins weaving her way across the deck, beer held high over her head.
“Helen!” I shout after her, but she’s already heading into the house. I turn to Finn. “I can’t be held responsible for anything that comes out of her mouth.”
But Finn is laughing. “I think I like Helen. I think we should take her advice and check out the bridge.” The deck is more and more crowded, the biggest group of people circling a keg. “Unless you want to stay?”
I shake my head. “I think I’ve had enough of my first party.” I sigh. “I can’t manage to sit through a movie and now I’m ready to leave a party after an hour.”
Finn grins. “I think you’d just rather be alone with me.”
I bite my lip to hide my smile. “Whatever you say, genius.” I gesture toward the stairs on the deck that lead to the beach. “After you.”
Finn and I push through the crowd. Before my feet hit the sand, I take off my shoes and dangle them from my finger like Helen showed me. As Finn and I walk, he slips his hand into my free one. A rush flows over my skin all the way up the back of my neck. Each time we touch, something happens to me. I feel happiness, I feel hope, I feel possessive. Like I want Finn to myself and for nobody else. As we step across the cool sand, I’m proud of myself for not tackling him.
How do people know what to do? Why aren’t there boyfriend instructions?
Is Finn even my boyfriend?
He squeezes my hand. “What are you thinking? You look lost in thought.”
“Nothing,” I say. “Nothing I’ll tell you.”
“In that case, I’ll have to convince you otherwise.”
We reach the old bridge and sit down on a bench at the very end of it, one that looks onto the blackness of the ocean. Out here, it’s silent aside from the soft sound of waves lapping against the pilings beneath us, and the occasional splash of a fish. “Thank you for coming to rescue me from my first party.”
“I didn’t know you needed rescuing,” Finn says.
His profile is lit by the moon. I wish I had the guts to inch closer. “You’ve saved me more than once. The first time was after I fought with my mother and you came to pick me up in your truck.”
Finn shifts, and his thigh presses lightly against mine. I make sure not to move. “Well, I’m happy to ‘save’ you or ‘rescue’ you whenever you want,” he says. “It’s about time someone else does the saving in your life.”
I close my eyes to let Finn’s words sink in. Without having to ask, without even really knowing, Finn just gave me a gift I’ve been yearning for as long as I’ve been old enough to wish for it.
He reaches out and tilts my chin upward with his finger. “What just happened, Marlena? Where did you go?”
“I’m still here,” I tell him, opening my eyes. There is longing in his, and I wonder if he can see the longing in mine. People have always looked at me with longing, but the kind I see in Finn is different. It makes me feel real.
The stars are bright in this dark place over the ocean. There’s no nearby city to block them out. The night glimmers.
I place a hand over my own heart, feeling it pound. “What’s happening, Finn?”
Finn turns to face me. He leans closer. “What do you mean?”
The air is velvety as it moves between us. “I almost can’t catch my breath. It’s like I’ve gone running.”
A smile drifts across Finn’s lips. “I think it means you want to kiss me.”
I laugh softly. “I’ve been wondering how people manage to make second kisses happen after first ones.”
“Oh, Marlena, you really are funny,” he says.
“Is your heart pounding, too?” I decide not to resist my urges any longer and reach out, placing my hand against Finn’s shirt, right where I know his heart resides behind the cage of his ribs. He closes his eyes. I press my palm into his chest until I feel it beating.
Finn lets out a whoosh of breath and moves my hand away. He shifts farther from me on the bench.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” he says, but too quickly.
I study him in the darkness. What is he holding back? “Okay,” I say. Finn will share when he’s ready. I can wait. I need to. It’s what normal people do.
There is relief on his face when I don’t press him. Then his eyebrows arch and he inches my way again, until his face is all I see. “You were talking about kissing me?”
I lean toward him. “You were talking about kissing me back?”
Our lips are close. I can feel the warmth of his breath. Finn’s hands find the small of my back and he draws me to him. His lips brush mine, barely, before they press a little harder. His hands find their way into my hair and my hands find their way inside his shirt, across his smooth, warm skin. We stay there, gripping each other, holding each other close, until everything becomes urgent, our breathing, our mouths, our tongues. This is unlike our first kiss at the healing rocks, which was slow and sweet and short. But also like it, too, because somehow I know exactly how to kiss Finn, even though the way we are kissing is completely new. I let my body think for me, speak for me, with words I didn’t know I had.
The instinct to heal, the one that flips on in me so my body can take over and reach out to the body of another, is similar to the one that switches on in me now. I didn’t know the body could feel hunger like this, for a kiss, for someone’s presence, to see their face. I am greedy for Finn as I look at him between our equally greedy kisses. It’s all I know and all I can think. I feel like I can see inside Finn’s soul, inside his heart, but not in the way I’m used to. It burns red like the setting sun and is as beautiful and powerful as the ocean. I let it warm me. I let myself bask in it. I find myself wanting to paint it.
When the two of us pull apart, I start to laugh.
“What?”
“Wow,” I say.
“I know.” Finn’s hands are still wrapped around me. “Lately, I forget that you’re a famous healer. I told you I didn’t think I could, but it turns out I can.”