Authors: Julie Johnson
You have to jump.
I had to jump.
Suddenly, before I had time to think about
what I was doing, I was moving – pushing through the crowd to get to him. I unapologetically elbowed my way through the swarm of girls, ignoring their sharp squeals of protest and finally breaking through the circle surrounding Finn. I came to a stop about a yard away from him.
His eyes met mine immediately,
as if he’d been waiting for me to materialize from the crowd at any moment. We both stood frozen with several feet between us and simply stared at one other. As our gazes locked, emerald clashing with cobalt, I felt it again: that indescribable force that seemed to tug me in his direction whenever we were close, like two magnets held only centimeters apart – their attraction irrefutable and infinite. The look in his eyes told me two things: firstly, that he felt it too, and secondly, that it
had
been me he was searching for in the crowd all night.
Jump.
I took one step in his direction and then, so fast my mind hadn’t even registered that he was moving, he’d closed the distance and was there in front of me, a breath away.
“Princess,” he whispered, a hand coming up to stroke the side of my face.
“Caveman,” I breathed back, leaning into his touch.
I felt his smile against my lips the instant before his mouth was on mine, our arms
twining around each other simultaneously. I clung to him tightly as our mouths devoured one another, as if it had been months rather than hours since we’d last been together. His hands were everywhere: tangling in my hair, caressing my shoulders, sliding down my back to rest on my hips and pulling me tight against his front so every line of our bodies melded together.
And
as I lost myself in his touch, I didn’t care about the other girls or the fact that we’d never talked about labels or feelings or terms. Because he was Finn, and I was Brooklyn, and in that moment nothing else mattered.
I was home.
I’m not sure how long we stood there, locked together in our own little world, before the catcalls and whispers of the crowd around us broke into my consciousness.
“I think he just got you pregnant,” Lexi’s voice
called from somewhere behind me. My lips broke away from Finn’s and I twisted to look over my shoulder at her.
“I mean, seriously, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” she continued
, her expression reflective. “I may have had an orgasm just watching.”
Tyler, who was standing by her side, burst out laughing and pulled her into his arms.
“Lex,” I said, giggling. “You need to get out more.”
I detangled my hands from where they were wrapped around Finn’s neck and looked up into his eyes.
“Hey,” I said, smiling.
“You came
,” he grinned back at me.
“I told you I would.”
“I know,” he shrugged. “I just figured you’d have found a way to talk yourself out of this by now.”
“Well, fine,” I huffed. “I’ll just leave if that’s what you were expecting,”
I
tried to pull away from him. His arms, still wrapped around me from our kiss, didn’t buckle or even loosen as I struggled against his hold.
“Stop fighting me, princess,” Finn said, his voice low. “It’ll be a lot easier for both of us if you quit running away from this and inventing reasons to be mad at me.”
“I’m not running and I’m not
inventing
anything,” I snapped, even though I kind of was.
“Bee.”
“What.” I barked the word, staring at his chin so I wouldn’t have to see the look in his eyes.
“I’m happy you came.”
I sighed and, just like that, the anger I was trying so hard to hold onto slipped away. Anger was easy – I could deal with rage, or hate, or indifference. It was these new emotions, the ones I was too afraid to even put a name to, that I was struggling to cope with.
Lifting my eyes, I met his gaze, which was warm and full of amusement.
“This isn’t going to be easy, you know,” I told him.
He raised an eyebrow. “This?”
“Us,” I choked out, nearly stuttering over the word.
He smiled and the dimple
in his right cheek popped out.
“The good things – the things that are
really worth it – usually never are,” he replied, hooking one arm around my shoulder and steering us toward the bar. “Now let’s get a drink.”
“Or five,” I added
under my breath, swallowing nervously.
Finn laughed a
nd squeezed me a little tighter as he led me toward the stools where Lexi and Tyler were sitting.
Free Falling
Finn and Tyler were back on stage,
whipping the crowd into a frenzied state as their second set of the night progressed. They’d spent their break laughing at the bar with Lexi and me, and – not that I’d ever admit it to Lexi – it had been so much fun I was actually looking forward to the possibility of double dates in the future.
After they left us to go perform, Lexi and I
had claimed a small high-top table on the outskirts of the crowd where we had a prime vantage point for ogling the band and watching the writhing people on the dance floor. We were giggling at the sight of a stumbling-drunk couple sloppily making out against a thick ceiling support column, when Finn’s voice cut through the noise of the club and immediately caught my attention.
“
Alright, alright, alright!” Finn yelled into the mic. “You guys enjoying the show?”
The crowd
screamed their approval.
“We’re
gonna slow it down a bit now, so bear with us. This next song is really important to me, ‘cause it says everything I never seem to be able to find the right words for.” Finn smiled as he looked out over the crowd, his eyes coming to rest on me. “This one goes out to my special girl – she knows who she is.” He winked at me.
There was a collective si
gh from the females in the audience; it was obvious that 99.9% of them believed he was talking about them.
“And
, actually, I’m gonna need her help to sing it,” Finn told the audience. “She’s probably going to kill me for doing this, so I’ll need your help getting her up here. Let’s give her some encouragement! Make some noise for BROOKLYN!” He held his arms out at his sides and waved them up and down, pumping up the crowd’s volume to an ear-splitting decibel.
“You call that loud?” Finn yelled into the mic.
The crowd roared even louder. This was unprecedented; never once in
Apiphobic Treason
’s history had they ever called someone from the audience up on stage.
“Co
me on, princess, get your ass up here!”
He
was laughing into the microphone, undoubtedly amused by the look of murderous rage that was beaming from my eyes. I began vigorously shaking my head back and forth so he would understand that there was no way in hell I was getting up on that stage.
“He means you, dummy!” Lexi shoved at my arm. “G
o!”
I
looked at her in horror. “I’m not going up there! Whose side are you on?” I yelled, appalled.
“Finn’s!”
Traitor!
By this point the crowd had started to turn around, cur
ious about the identity of Finn Chamber’s ‘special girl.’ Then, the chanting began – a slow-building crescendo of my name, called out in unison by the nearly three hundred people.
“BROOK-LYN, BROOK-LYN,” they chanted
relentlessly, the room vibrating with the sound.
Whoever was working the stage lights located me in the crowd – Finn had probably tipped them off beforehand so they’d know exactly where I was standing – and I suddenly
found myself illuminated on all sides by a spotlight.
Well, there goes my plan to escape unnoticed out the back door
.
“C
ome on, princess, don’t be shy,” Finn’s voice teased, booming through the speakers at me.
“BROOK-LYN, BROOK-LYN, BROOK-LYN,” the crowd screamed.
“Go!” Lexi cajoled, giving me a push from behind and sending me toppling off my chair in the direction of the stage.
Fuck.
I moved through the dense crowd, the spotlight following my every step, and club-goers parted around me like I was freaking Moses navigating the Red Sea. I kept my eyes locked on Finn’s as I neared the stage, and felt Lexi’s presence hovering close behind me, her hand clasped tight around mine.
Traitor or not, the girl always had my back.
As we ascended the stairs and found ourselves on stage, Lexi leaned forward so her mouth brushed my ear. “Thank
god
I took the time to curl your hair. And you wanted to wear it up in a ponytail, of all things! Can you
imagine
?!”
Her voice was
teasing and affectionate, full of the reassurance I so desperately needed to calm the nervous butterflies swarming in my stomach. My nerves eased slightly as I laughed at her ridiculousness, and I sent her a warm look as she gave my hand a final squeeze of support. She winked as we parted ways, dropping my hand so I could make my way to Finn while she went to stand by Tyler’s drum kit.
The
warmth immediately faded from my expression as I turned to look at Finn. He was waiting for me, unbothered by my wrath, with one hand outstretched. I slipped my hand into his and dug my fingernails harshly into his palm.
He didn’t even bother to flinch, the bastard.
“What the hell are you doing, Finn!” I whispered, careful not to project into the microphone. He winked at me, then turned to face the crowd.
“Ladies, gents, here she is – I give you Brooklyn Turner, everybody! Make some noise for her!”
Great, he was ignoring me.
The crowd, however, was not; from the
loud, appreciative catcalls and male yells I heard emanating from the audience, it was clear that The Dress was not only appreciated, but a very welcome change from the all-male entertainment Styx usually boasted. I couldn’t help but smile a little.
“
Now, like I said earlier, this song is special to me and Brooklyn. You might even say it’s our song,” he said, grinning at me. “Right, princess?”
“We don’t have a song,” I muttered, appalled. I really didn’t like where this was headed. “We aren’t even a couple!” In spite of my growing alarm, I managed to keep my voice low enough that the microphone didn’t project
my protests across the club. Finn ignored me, throwing an arm around my shoulder and hauling me close to his side.
“We can’t hear you!” a voice shouted from the crowd.
“Yeah, what’d she say?” another yelled.
“
She agreed with me,” Finn told the crowd, his body moving with suppressed laughter. “So, without further ado, for our first performance as a couple…this is
Home
by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros!”
Couple?
What the…what?!
Before I could protest or even fully process the bomb he’d just dropped on me
– and approximately three hundred random strangers – Scott, Trent, and Ty started playing the intro notes. My cue to sing was approaching too rapidly to move or think or even breathe – all I could do was react.
Thanking my lucky
stars that – due to countless practice runs in my shower – I knew all the words to this song by heart, I took a step out from under Finn’s arm and grabbed the mic stand. If I was going to do this, then I was going to do it right; you just can’t half-ass a song like “Home.”
Looking out over the screaming crowd, I
forgot to be mad at Finn. My mind cleared completely, and all that was left was the feel of the microphone gripped in my hand and the utter rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
T
hen even that was gone; I was empty of everything except the lyrics, and I was singing my heart out.
Finn and I traded off verses seamlessly, as if we’d practiced this song together millions of times. In reality, we’d only sung it once
– when it played yesterday as we’d painted my bedroom.
The song’s tone was playful, and we laughed as we sang and circled each other on stage, eyes locked on
one other rather than the audience. Despite the lightness of our performance, the lyrics conveyed a deeper and infinitely more meaningful message. I didn’t fail to notice what Finn was telling me by selecting this particular song.
Home
.
It’
s wherever I’m with you.
It was a strong statement to make to
anyone, but it was especially powerful for me – a girl who hadn’t had a true home for most of her life. His choice hadn’t been accidental; he knew better than anyone what my life growing up had been like. The bits and pieces I’d revealed had painted him a pretty good picture of my childhood, even if he was still missing some of the more vital details.
So him choosing this song?
It wasn’t a coincidence, or an oversight, or a mistake.
It was a declaration.
It was an assurance I’d never before been offered. It was a promise that, even though I didn’t have a traditional home with two loving parents, a white picket fence, and a golden retriever in the front yard, it didn’t matter.
He
would be my home.
It was in that instant
I fell in love with him.
I know people always talk about love like it’s a realization you have one day – a sudden moment of clarity where you realize you’ve been slowly falling in
love with that person for days or weeks or months. People talk like it isn’t really
falling
at all, but instead, a gentle recognition that you’ve already hit the ground.
It wasn’t like that for me.
It wasn’t a slow epiphany, or an awareness that I’d floated down into love weeks ago, without ever realizing it.
It
was as sudden as a flashflood, as violent and terrifying as diving headfirst off the side of a skyscraper. I hadn’t fallen; No, I was
free-falling
– spiraling down into an abyss and waiting for the ground to rush up and meet me.
I didn’t even bother to brace for impact, because my landing was inevitable.
Gravity was pushing me down, speeding my descent. Faster, faster, faster, I crashed down into love, with no hopes of ever pulling myself back up the side of building to safety.
When the pavement below came into view,
canvased in a sidewalk-chalk tableau of broken hearts and crushed expectations, I waited for the forthcoming pain of impact. My arms didn’t flail, my legs didn’t bicycle the air. With detached acceptance, I anticipated the hit; the splintering of bones, the splattering of flesh and marrow on concrete as love – that horrible, destructive, immovable force – destroyed every atom and particle of my being.
So, when
that inevitable crash happened – when I landed so hard against the realization I that loved Finn, it stole my breath and nearly made me stop singing – I was shocked that no parts of me shattered.
My bones didn’t break,
my lifeblood didn’t spill, my heart wasn’t pulverized. Instead I felt the telltale crumble of every wall I’d ever barricaded my heart with, as they fractured to dust against the ground.
When the
debris settled, and I found myself standing unharmed at the bottom of an impossibly tall skyscraper, I realized that I’d done it.
I’d jumped. And, more importantly, I’d survived the fall.
The walls I’d so meticulously constructed to keep everyone out had cushioned my fall and were now simply gone, as though they’d never existed in the first place.
I
loved Finn Chambers – I freaking
loved
him – and there wasn’t a single barrier left to keep him out of my heart.
My face must have registered
awe or fear or a mixture of both, because when I snapped back into reality I realized that Finn was looking at me strangely, with questions alight in his eyes. Thankfully, even during earthshattering realizations like the one I’d just experienced, I liked to think I could keep a pretty good poker face. Since I’d never even stopped singing, it was likely that Finn and Lexi were the only ones who’d recognized the glazed look of panicky joy in my eyes.
With a wink of reassurance in Finn’s direction, I turned back to the c
rowd and finished out the song with a secret smile on my face. When Scott and Ty played the final notes, I grinned as the crowd at our feet jumped up and down, applauding madly and yelling their approval. Finn waved to the crowd before grabbing my hand and tugging me toward him. Heedless of the hundreds of people watching us, he pressed his lips to mine and gave me a searing kiss.
The catcalls, if possible, grew even louder.
“Brooklyn Turner, everybody!” Tyler yelled into the mic he used for backup vocals, his voice breaking Finn and I out of our private moment. I tried to move away, but Finn didn’t let me get far; keeping his arms locked firmly around my lower back, he rested his forehead against mine. He didn’t even bother to look at the crowd – he had eyes only for me.
“
You are so amazingly talented it actually stuns me,” he said, his gaze intense. “This is what you’re meant to be doing with your life, Bee.”
“Singing?”
I asked, incredulous.
“Yeah,” he whispered,
pulling back so he could kiss my forehead. “Just promise me you’ll at least think about it. Deal?”