7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I wake up with sunshine blazing into one eye and the other smooshed up against something. Someone. I lift my head to see that I've been resting on Finn's shoulder.

We must've dozed off in the bean bag chair. No doubt I have a big crease on my face and probably drool crust. I've certainly been drooling over him. The crush is alive and well if anyone wants to know.

No sooner do I shift in the squishy bean bag, which only results in me somehow sliding slightly under Finn, does he wake up. I'm about to urge him not to look at me in this state when his blue eyes framed by thick lashes brighten with what I hope is recognition.

Then I realize our history only goes back about forty-eight hours rather than over a dozen years.

"Good morning," he says at the same time a beeping sound comes from below.

"The librarian must be disengaging the alarm. Quick, we have to hide," I whisper, readily understanding how bad it looks that a local business owner from a fallen family and the guy whose company wants to level the library are here after hours. Or is it before hours? Both.

As if trying to avoid enemy fire, Finn and I duckwalk through the children's section toward the tall stacks of old, dusty books. I'd hoped he'd snap his fingers and, like magic, he'd remember.

But I'll never forget last night and how we slipped into easy and flirty conversation as if no time had passed, as if he hadn't forgotten our shared history, or how it ended.

Instead of sitting at the table in the nook like two normal people, we both immediately try to hide underneath it, getting our legs and the chair legs in a tangle. This initiates a case of snort laughter that's bound to get us kicked out? Arrested? Banned from the library for life?

When I finally get the giggles under control, I'm tempted to sneak a peek at what Finn looks like in the morning. Unlucky for me, he looks perfect.

His hair is slightly mussed, scruff grows along his strong jawline, and his expression is peaceful as if this is exactly where he wants to be.

The nearby stairs squeak and footsteps approach. We both raise our forefingers to our lips to indicate quiet as if we'd make a peep at this point.

I hold my breath. Finn grips my hand like that'll keep us from being discovered.

Rubber-soled shoes squeak and a few lights flick on, casting plates of light across the floor. I squish my eyes closed and remain like that until the surrounding area is completely silent except for the sound of our inhales and exhales, staggered rounds in a chorus production.

Before I open my eyes, I realize Finn's hand still grips mine, but it's looser like he let it linger. Did he forget or...is it on purpose? He shows no signs of a spotty memory in the present day so is his touch intentional? I took a big risk, confessing my crush, but got a lackluster response. But what was I expecting? A confetti cannon? Him taking me in his arms and professing his love?

Turns out I prefer what now look like easy questions about my business to these that press against me from all sides.

Just when I think we're in the clear, a trill sounds from nearby. I go still and Finn's grip tightens again. The sound repeats, sending a shockwave of fear through me.

But he relaxes slightly. "I think that was your phone."

I gasp then slap my hand over my mouth. Checking my device, I see that Shelly texted, giving me a hot girl summer update and wondering what being stuck in the library means.

"It literally means trapped here," I whisper as if she can hear me.

"We'd better make our way out," Finn says as his stomach growls.

"Pancakes?" I ask.

"Coffee floats?"

We have both, stretching the morning as long as it'll go before we part ways.

"Sorry that our library stop didn't result in me remembering anything," he says.

I shrug. It's okay because we have new memories and they include how much I like this guy even though, according to our families and the present situation with the property and potential resort, any kind of relationship between us isn't only forbidden, it probably makes me a dumb bunny.

On Monday, Shelly meets me at the bridal boutique with chocolate and a full recap of her weekend with Petunia. They went camping. He taught her how to surf.

"It was magnificent and then when we got back last night, he fell into a mood. Got all quiet and withdrawn like a giant turtle retreating in its shell." She shakes her head. "I think he has a secret."

"You should talk to Sunny."

"I should. But other than that, it was a hot girl summer success. So tell me, what does being stuck in a library mean? Is it a code? A Palisade Shores High School throwback? A SoCal thing?"

I squawk a laugh and explain exactly what happened and my plans for next weekend when the high school drama department puts on an encore showing of Grease.

"Is that part of the summer showcase? I've been to all the events so far."

I nod and briefly tell her how Finn and I were in the play our senior year.

"Let me guess, you played Frenchy."

"How'd you know?"

"Just a hunch. So how are you going to make this starcrossed love thing work?"

"It feels impossible. Plus, I've been writing letters to every local representative to block the sale of the stretch of property along El Camino to Imperial Paradise."

"Whoa, conflict of interest. It's like you're butting heads with yourself. Unfortunately, I know the feeling."

We laugh at the imagery and talk about our hot girl summer plans for the week. I intended to offer a chronological review of our senior year, but with the play this weekend, we have to squeeze in a few trips to the beach to watch the sunrise, the sunset, and afternoons spent lounging in the sun.

"While it's true that back then I did not like going to the beach, I did like spending time with Finn and so made exceptions to my typical preference of lounging by the pool. Daily exceptions. This won't be possible given the short timeline of the summer, so I'll take what I can get."

"Me too, but I'm not sure I want crumbs like we were talking about. I want the whole hot girl summer cake."

"At least there's a little bit of TLC left. If you need any, you know where to find me," I tell Shelly before we say goodbye.

On Friday evening the sky is a splash of watercolor pastels as the sun disappears, leaving Finn and me in smudgy silhouettes. I dig my toes in the sand, not wanting to leave because I don't know what's coming. I twirl a string on the beach blanket and do my usual nervous ramble as if hoping that by talking enough, the night won't end.

Leaning on his elbow, Finn looks over his shoulder toward the street and says, "I received several letters of complaint about the possible construction of a new resort in Palisade Shores."

"Hmm?" I ask vaguely.

"Know anything about that?"

"About notes from concerned citizens?"

"There were chocolate fingerprints on one of the letters."

"I haven't had chocolate all week except on Monday...and Tuesday. Shelly and I finished the cake on Wednesday." I leave out the part about how yesterday I finally got over to Sweethearts for some of their homemade caramel-filled seashell-shaped chocolates.

Finn's lips quirk with a smile. "You can let the townsfolk know that their complaints have been registered, but does this mean watching Grease tomorrow night is off the table if they have it out for me?"

"Wear your PS High hat just to be safe." I tap the brim.

He adjusts it and smiles. Our eyes meet and hold for a long moment. I lean in, hoping for a flicker of recognition, but it doesn't come.

Instead, the weekend arrives, and with it, the Palisade Shores Summer Entertainment Showcase, featuring the Grease theater production.

Because it's my favorite musical of all time, I go in costume. This includes a swishy calf-length skirt, a pink jacket with my name embroidered on the back, and saddle shoes. It's part of my costume from when I was in the play and part indulging my inner fangirl.

Would I like to sail into the happily ever after clouds in a flying car while singing and gazing into the eyes of my true love? You bet.

Instead, he pulls up in front of my house in his Porsche.

"I'm surprised you haven't gotten egged," I say, trying to keep a straight face.

His cheeks lift with a smile. "You probably want to save them for baking another cake."

"Are you suggesting something, sir?" I say, tipping my head innocently to the side.

"Just that you made the best chocolate cake I've ever had."

"Why thank you," I say as Finn closes the door for me like a gentleman.

We cruise over to the beach for the Palisade Shores Summer Entertainment Showcase and set up a blanket and chairs. Shelly waves and rushes over.

I make introductions and she joins us, explaining that Petunia is supposed to meet her, but probably won't because he doesn't like singing or laughing or smiling.

"He and I would probably get along since I forgot to have fun," Finn says glumly.

"That's not true. Bea said you had a great time when you were ‘Stuck in the library.' She still won't tell me what that means."

Finn and I exchange a knowing glance and stifle laughter.

"It means we were trapped inside. Had to eat oatmeal and BelVita just to survive."

She bumps me with her shoulder. "Mmmhmm. Likely story. You locals are loco ."

"Tell that to Dune. Here he comes." I nudge my chin in the direction of the bearded man who looks more like a lumberjack than a surfer.

Shelly giggles. "He is going to hate this."

"Do you know all the words?" I ask her.

"To all the songs," she replies.

What follows is over an hour of the two of us singing along to the songs, dancing in our chairs, and having a generally good time despite Dune's scowl and Finn's expression of bewilderment.

Afterward, we say goodbye to sunny Shelly and her grump, then make our way to the car. Finn is quiet until he drops into the driver's seat.

"What did you think?" I ask.

Staring straight ahead, hands gripping the wheel but immobile, he blurts, "I think we kissed."

My breath catches. "It was a stage kiss, but yes. At the end of the final song, you dipped me and our lips hovered together, but the tilt of your head hid the fact that our mouths were mere inches apart."

He squeezes his eyes closed.

I risk asking, "Do you remember?"

"No, I just had a feeling."

I sigh, sinking into the leather seat, kind of wishing I could wash my mind of the almost kiss so it wouldn't hurt that when we finally did kiss, he didn't want another.