Chapter Thirty Two

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My heart is beating at a billion miles per hour. Before Finn and I are a brief little kiss, it was only a million and even then it hurt. Now it feels like it's going to burst out of my chest, but I could careless as I keep reliving the sweet kiss. Finn's lips felt so soft and warm during the couple seconds they stayed on mine that I wish the moment had lasted longer.

It being my first real kiss-the sloppy ones I shared with Jaxson in Lin's life don't count-makes the memory an unforgettable one to me. In this moment, as I stall mentally to keep from having to confess,
I make a promise to myself that no matter what happens with Finn and I in the future, when I look back on this moment I'll smile with no remorse at letting him kiss me.

"Cutie?"

I look up at Finn and try to make the smile that appears on my lips a happy one. Staring into his currently mostly green eyes makes it easy. Him gazing back at with no judgement or pity almost makes this choice so much harder, so I decide not to look. I lean into Finn's body and rest my head on his hard chest. He tighten his once loose hold on me before I start talking.

"When I was five years old, my parents and my little brother died." Even with my words being said at a volume barely above a whisper, my voice still comes out flat and unfeeling, just as intended.

Finn stops breathing for a minute and his arms go slack around me. It's like someone punched him in the gut the way he takes in a sharpe inhale before releasing it. "Whoa."

I push away form his chest and look up at him. "Jace didn't tell you?"

"Not in as many words."

"What did he say?"

"That you were a foster kid."

"That's all?"

"Yea."

Welp. Maybe he really doesn't need to know now.

Originally, I wanted to tell him so we wouldn't start things-do we even have 'things', or am I just imagining it?-off on the wrong foot. I'm clueless about relationships-I've only ever been with one guy-and that guy turned out to be the worst son of a gun this world has ever seen, Hitler not included. But I'm sure they include trust.

From the moment Finn and I met, he's given me space. He's never once forced me into telling him the truth. He's let me stay in my little bubble when it came to serious topics. Now, I think I want to come out. I need to.

"Most people say it was because of a fire caused by nature." I pause, staring ahead at the posters across from me as I let my words sink into Finn's head.

Rosa Parks proudly holds up the numbers 7053 across her chest. Above her, I've neatly written my favorite quote by her 'The only tired I was, was tired of giving in.' in white sharpie. Next to her is a black and white picture of Einstein with his tongue sticking out. Above his shaggy white hair the words 'Imagination is more important than knowledge' are written in white with the word imagination underlined in red.

"But you believe otherwise?"

I turn my attention back to Finn and the un-fun task at hand. "Yes."

"Why?" He's voice is still soft, even though we've passed the hardest thing I will ever have to say, and floats into my face. I think about backing away a bit-am I too close?-but change my mind when Finn's slack arms regain their strength.

"Because I was there."

"You were in the fire that killed your parents, but you are somehow still alive."

"Yes."

"This reminds me of this story Jace told me a few years back. A beloved—that's the word Jace used—family that used to live here died in a forest fire."

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