Page 10 of Brad & Finn
Finn took that as his cue to get comfortable, because it wasn’t going to be a short talk—at least, not if Brad stayed to hear him out fully. Finn toed off his shoes and climbed somewhat stiffly onto one of the beds. Brad watched him the way one might eye an unknown species of snake. Finn had encountered a lot of those when he used to go for meandering walks down at Cane Creek. He’d approach the snake with caution, trying to gauge whether the specific color markings meant it was harmless…or not.
Finn pulled his legs up underneath him, so he was facing the other bed cross-legged. Hopefully, Brad would feel better being on the bed closer to the exit. Or maybe big guys like him didn’t have to worry about things like that. Perhaps he didn’t scope out every venue and make sure he knew exactly how many feet he was from the exit in case he had to make a quick escape. That was something Finn’s dad had taught him in one of his few awkward attempts to connect with his only child.
It'd been a long time since Finn let himself wonder what his life would have been like if his mother hadn’t died in childbirth. He’d wondered that a lot growing up—and doubly so in college, when everything began to change for him. As the years continued to pass, his conversations with his dad became more and more infrequent until they tapered off completely, and Finn had gotten used to the idea of being parentless.
Brad slowly, almost painstakingly so, stepped out of his Nikes. He pushed them up against the wall with his foot, so theywere politely out of the way, before padding over to the second bed. A soft huff escaped his lips as he sat down, and his gaze settled heavily over Finn.
Back at the bar, when Finn had said that he and Chloe had utterly failed to game plan, he’d also meant they’d failed to prepare for this possibility. Not of Brad Willson being in Finn’s hotel room at well past midnight, but that Finn was going to be faced with people who knew him back in high school who would have next to no chance of recognizing him now.
That was one of the several reasons Chloe had asked Finn to go as her date. It meant Finn wouldn’t have to go as a member of the class of 2005, but he could still attend the reunion. He could decide at the event, or at any time during the event, whether or not he wanted to come out to his former classmates.
Finn had been leaning towards not coming out, but the weight of Brad’s hand on his hip and the vulnerable curve of his lips as he’d leaned down to kiss Finn in the hallway had momentarily changed his mind. It was like Brad had touched that knot that always sat at the hinge of Finn’s jaw. He’d touched it once before, the night of graduation, and Finn hadn’t known what it meant at the time. He still wasn’t quite sure, but he wasn’t going to figure it out by sitting in silence, avoiding Brad’s questioning look.
“There’s a little more to the story of why I’m here, attending the high school reunion with Chlo,” Finn started. “I also received an invitation, because I was a member of the Gomillion class of 2005 as well. Everything I said about Chloe is true, though. We’ve known each other and have been best friends for almost three decades.”
Brad spread his legs so he could lean forward with both of his elbows on his thighs. Even though he’d been looking at Finn all night, he squinted at him like maybe this time he’d see something different.
Finn had done that in the mirror for years, turning his face this way and that, trying to gauge if the exact curve of his cupid's bow or the slant of his eyebrows would give him away. He still had the same rare eye color, which only 2% of the rest of the world had. He also still had the same mole below his right ear and the slight gap in his front teeth. The longer he stayed in Indiana, several states away from anyone who had known him before, it seemed to matter less and less. Only Chloe and Kendall knew him from that time, and they’d been with him through every change and development.
“I doubt you’d recognize me. I’ve changed a lot since then,” Finn said, somewhat uncomfortably. He took a fortifying sip of his drink and wished he’d opted for the entire airplane bottle of vodka.
Brad huffed, remaining in his bent-over position, but mirroring Finn and taking a swig of his drink. “I guess Chloe did have more friends than I could hope to count back in high school,” he said, as if he was trying to give Finn some sort of out.
“She did,” Finn said, remembering the overflowing parties Chloe would throw in her backyard. It felt like the entire town was there, chatting and laughing until the fireflies came out. “But I was actually on the cheerleading team with her. We sat together at lunch and went to the same parties…including that final grad party at Cory’s place.”
The grad party where teenage Brad had cupped Finn’s jaw, pressing lightly into that spot that always tensed up, and Finn had let the captain of the football team press his chapped lips against his.
Brad’s eyes widened, and he did a pretty good interpretation of the old Paul Bunyan statue, his body going stone still on the edge of the bed.
“You were a cheerleader…” Brad whispered, his eyes going unfocused as he stared somewhere past Finn’s shoulder.
There hadn’t been any boys on the cheerleading team, and they both knew it.
Finn could practically see the moment everything clicked into place, because Brad’s head knocked back in surprise. “You’re?—”
“The second co-captain of the team, yes,” Finn interrupted, before Brad could bring his dead name into the room with them. It was just a name, but in this town, on these streets, it felt more like reciting an incantation or speaking a curse. He didn’t know what types of feelings it would conjure up.
“Wow,” Brad said, his voice sounding far away. When he met Finn’s gaze, his shoulders softened, and something sparkled in his honey brown eyes. “You sure do look different.”
Finn snorted, and the sound was inappropriately loud in the quiet room. All things considered, it was far from the worst thing Brad could have said. “Thanks…I think.”
Brad sat back, bringing one arm behind himself to lean on. He tilted his head up, and Finn spied a scar across the base of his throat. Finn had been there, cheering from the sidelines, when Brad had gotten that scar. He’d been playing his third quarter in a row with no relief, and he’d tried to dive for a first down, but an opponent’s cleat caught him in the neck. Finn remembered hearing Brad arguing with the school nurse that it was just a flesh wound, and he could keep playing.
Brad had always pushed too hard, too fast. Kendall would complain at practice that Brad was in every club at the school, always doing volunteer work in the evenings between practice and studying. It was one of the many reasons they seemed to be broken up about as often as they were back together in those days. Kendall required a lot of attention, which she’d finally found in her doting husband, but Brad, the hot yet sometimes clueless football player, had never been able to measure up.
Brad’s eyes were glossy as he stared at the ceiling, as if he was taking his own trip down memory lane. “You know…I’ve always wondered where you ended up. Kendall friended me on Facebook a few years back. I think Chloe and I are friends too, but she doesn’t post much, and I was looking for you… I mean—” Brad coughed to try and clear his throat, took a quick sip of his drink, then hurried to say, “I tried to find some other members of the cheerleading and football team as well, but with limited success.”
Finn pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and ran his front teeth over the slight stubble directly below his lip. Facial hair was one of the first changes he’d experienced on T, and he’d never quite been able to break the habit of checking to see if it was still there.
Brad glanced at Finn’s mouth and then away again. “The past few weeks were the first time I ever wished we’d gotten high school yearbooks so that I could look people up. I don’t remember all that many of our classmates, but…I definitely remember you. You were really attractive back then. At least, my dumb teenage brain sure thought you were. But now, you’re–er…is it okay to say I think you’re absolutely gorgeous now?”
Finn’s mind went utterly blank. He didn’t have time to process, let alone respond, before Brad sat up straight, like he’d just been scolded by one of their teachers.
“Sorry,” Brad continued, “and you use he/him pronouns, right? I’ve been assuming this whole time, but I guess we never really said, did we?”
Finn’s mouth must have fallen open because he could feel the stale hotel air passing over his tongue. In the span of two minutes, the high school football captain had admitted he’d been attracted to Finn back in high school, said he now found him gorgeous, and then proceeded to ask for Finn’s pronouns. Was this really happening?
Brad was watching him, a look of consternation on his face, like he was afraid he’d done something egregiously wrong. Between the two of them, it seemed like Finn had more to apologize for than he did. Finn had never reached out to any of his former classmates for fear that they’d respond poorly to the news. Maybe he owed them more credit than what he’d given them.
