The Story of Finneas - [COMPLETED]

3.

A few days after meeting Finneas for the second time at Sizzles, he texted me. I was just finishing up after work. I have a habit of finishing the last batch of the day's coffee in the office's pantry, no matter how horrible it tastes. I glanced at my watch. It was a few minutes to seven thirty, and the sun had set outside.

His texts were—like he said—short and couldn't be any vaguer.

"Do you know any good pizza place?"

I frowned, as it displayed an unknown number. "Who is this?"

"Finneas. Pizza?"

"Sure. Where should we meet?"

It took him a few minutes to answer. "I'll pick you up. Where?"

I gave him the address of my office. The small word 'read' appeared quickly under my text, but he didn't reply after that. He already said he dislikes texting, so I told myself I shouldn't worry. I'm usually an anxious person. I'll get really anxious if someone doesn't reply to my text. Like, did I say something wrong or what?

I tried to distract myself by tidying up my desk and searching the pantry for any coffee left. Almost half an hour passed, and my phone buzzed. I picked it up so quickly it almost slipped from my grip.

"Here." Finneas texted.

I picked up my bag and waved goodbye to the remaining coworkers who decided to work overnight today. I didn't know why I was so eager to meet him that I half ran to the main door.

When I was finally outside, I saw him—unexpectedly—sitting on a blue scooter with his foot on the curb. He had this matching blue helmet on, which made him look silly. I couldn't hold in my laughter. He looked up to me and smirked. "Cool, isn't it?"

I approached him and laughed once again. "I'm at loss for words..."

"Get on, I'm starving," he chuckled.

"Uh..." I was hesitant to get on the scooter, but he suddenly grabbed my hand. His hand was big... and warm.

"Come on, Brooke. I promise we'll get there safely." He looked me in the eyes, trying to assure me.

I nodded slowly and sat on the black leather seat, and there wasn't much room, so his back almost touched my front.

"Hold on tight!" Finneas shouted, and suddenly the scooter jolted forward with a loud sound. I almost fell and had no choice but to grab onto his shirt tightly. I yelled at him to slow down, but he just laughed—like he was feeling satisfied.

After a few minutes who felt like an eternity, he hit the brakes and we stopped abruptly. I quickly got off and held my head, feeling dizzy from all the adrenaline.

"Why," I said with a hoarse voice, "Why can't you just get a car like everybody else?"

He locked his scooter and took off his helmet. "Cars are just too expensive. Also, this scooter makes me unique, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Sure. Weird, almost."

We walked into the pizza place, which had been my favorite since the first time I set foot in this town. We looked at the menu, trying to figure out which one we should order.

"How about this one?" I asked, pointing to one of the pictures in the menu. It has pepperoni, basil, cheese, and olives as toppings.

He shook his head almost instantly. "I hate olives. How about this one instead?" He pointed to another picture, and I agreed just so we can eat soon. I was quite hungry myself.

We sat in one of the booths, facing each other. "Just curious. Did your ex love olives?" I asked carefully, my thumbs intertwining with each other.

Finneas raised his eyebrows. "Yep, she really loved olives. How did you know?"

I smirked. "There was actually this theory called 'The Olive Theory'. It's from a TV series called How I Met Your Mother. If in a couple, one person loves olives and the other hates olives, then they're a perfect match. Something like that."

"Really? I didn't know that," his lips curled into a simple smile. "I guess that theory had been proved wrong then, since I broke up with her. There were more serious problems, such as her mental illness and things like that, which were so big that it ruined our relationship. It got ruined so bad that your olive theory couldn't save it." He sighed.

I looked at him, feeling very uneasy. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring old wounds up."

"Hey, it's alright," he said softly, returning my gaze. "It's good to get to know each other. You, on the other hand, had always been calm and collected. What's the secret?"

I shook my head slowly. "Nobody's naturally calm and collected, you know. This was achieved with a lot of practice and experience. I have achieved the 'Zen' way of living." I pointed my thumbs toward myself, smiling proudly. "You know, those bad days still come sometimes, but I have learned to handle it."

He was silent for a few moments, looking at me as I looked back at him. Looking at him from this close of a distance made me realize a few interesting features on his face. Like how his eyes had a bit of green between the blue, and how his beard was patchier on the right side of his face. I could feel my heart flutter, but I chose to ignore it.

"I like that," he finally said, almost like a whisper. He smiled, wider than I had ever seen him smile. I froze. I opened my mouth, not knowing what to say, and suddenly the waiter came by to serve our pizza.

We quickly finished the pizza without much talking and walked together to the parking space in front of the big bright neon sign that says "Pizza". He patted his belly with a delighted smile. "My tummy is happy. Thanks for the recommendation."

I smiled back. "If it can make you like this town more, why not," I said. I didn't know why I said that.

He got on his scooter and put on his helmet. "Come on, I'll take you home." He put his hand on the seat behind him, giving me a sign to get on too.

Without a word, I got on and he started the engine, making a loud noise. It sounded like a bunch of cans getting dragged on the street. I braced myself and grabbed the sides of his shirt before we finally moved with an impressive speed. His long blonde hair flung around wildly because of the wind. We passed by a few cars, and I could feel people looking at us. Of course, there weren't much scooters in this town, much less scooters with this loud of a noise.

When we finally arrived in front of my apartment, it was getting colder. Finneas turned off the engine and hopped off before taking his helmet off. He insisted to walk with me to the door.

"See you later, Finneas," I said with a tiny smile, still getting flustered. "Have a safe trip home with that scooter of yours."

He opened his arms wide and leaned closer. Oh God, what is happening? I didn't even have time to think before he pulled me into a hug, his arms around me. He was taller than me, so my face was buried in his chest. He smelled good.

"Good night, Brooke," he said as he released the hug. I could feel my face getting warm. He got on his scooter and smirked briefly before driving away.

I watched him until he disappeared on the intersection and got inside the building. I swear—I haven't tried not to think about someone as much as that moment.