Page 39 of Seas the Dating Coach

I don’t have a someone.

Finn

That’s because every man in this town is an idiot.

My heart sprints as I type and send my next message without thinking.

Vivian

Where are you?

The dots blink and recede. Like last night, it takes too long to receive his answer.

Finn

I’m walking to Bayside Table with Noah.

My head tilts back against the back of the couch. Of course. He should be making friends, not sitting around texting with me. Finn seems like the type that’s usually out every night. I try to picture Finn snuggled beside me on the couch, watchingWorthington, reading next to me on his deck chairs as the sun slips below the bay, or holding my hand as we take a quiet evening stroll down the beach. A social creature like Finn probably prefers being out to such docile activities. He practically lit up while being surrounded by others at music trivia last night.

Finn

Want to join us?

I blink at the invitation for three seconds. Ihadtold Finn that I wanted to do more with my life. Maybe going out twice in one week is the perfect start.

It’s not until I’m outside my apartment that I realize I’m wearing a pair of gray bike shorts and an oversizedMade in the 90sshirt with cassette tape design. My hair is pulled into a messy bun, and I’m wearing my tortoise-shell glasses. I take a step backward before I realize that Noah—and this whole town—has seen me exactly like this thousands of times before. Amanda and Cliffjust sawme like this at the market.

If I change now, I’ll be changing to impress Finn. And there’s no need to impress Finn. He was very clear in defining the lines of our relationship last night.

Just friends.

I’m rounding the building when a delivery driver rolls to a stop in front of Seabreeze Beans. Though it’s past nine, it isn’t unusual for deliveries to our island to be the last of the day.

“Vivian Hutchinson?”

“That’s me.” I take the proffered envelope. “Thanks.”

Though online delivery is helpful everywhere else in the country, the extra delivery charges applied to Wilks Beach residents means we order less than the general public. And I certainly didn’t order this package.

Curiosity bubbles as my hand dives inside, finding a gift receipt first.

I didn’t want you to lose your key. -F

Upturning the envelope, a bronze music note keychain falls into my palm. I stare at the small paired eighth notes glinting in the lamp light. I love it. It’s so completely perfect. But then I turn it over, and goosebumps slide over my skin. My favorite Raven Sacaria lyric is engraved on the back.

Rock me like the rolling sea.

During music trivia, we discussed our favorite musicians—mine being Raven Sacaria. The aging singer-songwriter who has transcended music through the decades by constantly adapting was also my mother’s favorite. Mom used to hum her songs as she entered data into spreadsheets while working from home, or while weeding our small vegetable garden, or while playing board games with us on rainy nights. Listening to Raven’s music helps me feel connected to her even after all this time.

How did Finn know? I never spoke about any particular song, just that I loved her music. My shaky fingers reach into my shirt and pluck the loose key from my bra. With how much myhands are sweating, it takes two attempts to secure the key to the attached ring. Unconsciously, I fist the gift to my chest, noticing for the first time how erratic my pulse is.

This can’t be my response to a simple, thoughtful gift. Finn wants us to be friends. Friends who don’t kiss. I need to clobber these romantic fantasies like a teenager raging on whack-a-mole.

“He’s so out of your league he might as well be another species.”

I make myself say it two more times before I pull out my phone to respond to Finn’s invitation.

seventeen

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