Page 6 of Safety Net (Mendell Hawks #3)

CELESTE

“You ready to try again?” Naomi sat on my bedroom floor, cross-legged. She sorted through a pile of Gameboy cartridges my brothers had given me to pass on to her.

I lay on my bed, my legs stretched out over the headboard, and my gaze focused on the script in my notes app.

I’d written down everything I needed to say for the next time I spoke to Lincoln.

It’d been a week since my initial failed attempt.

Once Naomi heard about it, she decided we needed to come up with a game plan.

We practiced a couple of hours each day for the entire week.

She played the role of Lincoln, which allowed me to smooth out any kinks in my delivery.

There seemed to be more issues popping up the longer we went on.

“Yeah, one second. I need to figure out a better transition from ‘hi’ to ‘will you be my assistant director for two months, even though you can count on one hand the number of one-on-one conversations we’ve had alone.”

Naomi nodded. “Valid. By the way, Finn’s on his way to pick me up. I could get him to be Lincoln. It’ll feel more realistic. Especially since you two can also count on one hand how many times you’ve spoken to one another alone.”

I almost dropped my phone on my face. “I can’t do this with Finn.”

Naomi pulled her attention away from what she’d dubbed a retro gamer’s dream. The bed dipped underneath her weight as she climbed on.

“He won’t mind if you stumble on your words. He does the same thing all the time.” She grabbed my phone, holding it out of reach when I stretched for it. “You don’t need the script anymore. You have it memorized from top to bottom.”

“You know what?” I sat up, lightheaded, my ears buzzing from the abrupt movement. “I think that’s enough practice for today.”

“Celeste,” Naomi said firmly. “You only have a few more days left to confirm what you’re going to do. Have you even asked your cousin about the casting?”

“I have.” I perked up, proud to have done something right. “He’s in and he’s working on convincing his skating partner to play the lead. Which is perfect because that means they’ll already have chemistry.”

“Great.” Naomi nodded. “Now, tell me, do you plan on doing all the prep, set design, and rehearsals by yourself?”

I made a face. “No.”

Her phone buzzed as if the universe heard a predetermined cue. Naomi raised a brow, seeking permission. She wouldn’t force me, kicking and screaming.

“He can come up,” I said. “But ask him first, please. I don’t want him to feel like he has no choice.”

“He’ll be more than happy to help.” Naomi smiled, gave me back my phone, and then hurried off to let her boyfriend in.

It didn’t take long for her to bring him up.

Finn was a solid guy. Literally and metaphorically.

He was large and quiet, with dark, curly hair and pale skin that burned a deep, tomato-red whenever Naomi flirted with him.

His skin was that shade now, but there was no amusement in his eyes.

Naomi once told me she thought he was shy.

Shyness made Finn appear hard and mysterious.

His quiet drew people closer, a lighthouse of sorts.

My shyness made people think I was rude. Uppity. It repelled people, warning them of something strange within. I wondered if it was his maleness, whiteness, athleticism, or a mix of all three that made his quietness more accepted.

I was in elementary school when I learned being quiet wouldn’t always work in my favor.

At home, silence helped me avoid the verbal sparring my brothers and parents found joy in.

Disagreements, even the teasing kind, left me anxious and confused.

My nervous system regulated when I didn’t have to share opinions and thoughts that would ultimately be picked apart until there was nothing left but scraps.

But in a bright, colorful classroom, my teachers found silence a damning fault.

One in which they responded with threats of lower grades (to this day, the mere mention of the phrase “participation score” sent my stomach turning) and limited opportunities.

Once upon a time, I had worked my way up to being in the highest-level reading class.

I reveled in the status symbol and shiny ‘I am a reader’ pin.

That all came crashing down when I got demoted to the lowest level. My reading teacher could never convince me to do the dreaded, throat-tightening, vomit-inducing, hand-raise. I preferred to redo all the assignments I finished that year instead of answering a question out loud.

“Hey,” Finn greeted. His expression was stoic. Without Naomi’s footnotes, I would insist he didn’t like me. And maybe even hated me on principle.

“Hi.” To “meet” his gaze, I used my trick of staring at a person’s forehead to feign eye contact. Baby steps toward participation marks. Baby steps.

“Alright, remember,” Naomi said as she sat on the edge of my bed. “You’re Lincoln. Be Lincoln.”

Finn frowned. “How does one be Lincoln?”

“Loose, bold, unfinished,” she said. “An ellipsis.”

“What does that mean?” I wondered while Finn simultaneously said, “I feel like I’m going to need a little more time to adjust, considering I’m clearly a question mark.”

Something passed between them, and I felt like an intruder in my own room.

Couples were cute when they were coupling in their own space—conceptual, theoretical couples.

Couples too far away to remind you you were probably going to end up in a house by the sea alone…

though honestly, that didn’t sound too bad.

I couldn’t imagine myself entangled with someone long enough to want to share a house by the sea with them.

So, knowing deep down that I couldn’t envision being someone’s “other half,” witnessing romantic love firmly placed it on my list of awkward social experiences I preferred to avoid.

“You’re right.” Naomi got up from the bed. “A question mark through and through. New plan.”

“New plan?” I clasped my hands together, massaging out the nerves running through my veins. I was still struggling to accept the old one.

Finn’s shoulders relaxed. “New plan.”

“We’re Lincoln.” Naomi hurried past me to stand behind Finn. He tried to turn around to get a good look at her, but she held onto his shoulders, keeping him steady and facing me.

“I feel so silly,” I mourned when I realized I needed two people to help me feel comfortable talking to one guy who probably hadn’t given me a passing thought since we last spoke.

“Don’t feel silly,” Naomi said. “This isn’t silly. This is you trying to get better. Now, take a deep breath and be yourself.”

I took the breath. Being me was the more challenging exercise.

“Hi… Lincoln.” I winced.

“Hi… Celeste,” Finn said in a tone that gave my stiffness a run for its money. Oh, God, we sounded like cardboard cutouts trying to mimic real humans.

Naomi whispered something, and Finn added, “I’m glad we’re finally getting a chance to talk.”

“So am I?” My shaky voice exposed my full-body tremors.

“Surety,” Naomi reminded me.

I cleared my throat and repeated ten percent steadier, “So am I.”

“What’s…uh, going on?” Finn shook his head, red burning at his own unsteadiness.

Knowing that I wasn’t fumbling alone made it easier to smile a little at him. “I’m working on this project… It’s for a mentorship program. Or rather, an application for a mentorship program... It’s a musical. Or rather, it will be…”

“Wait, sorry.” He frowned, his voice a little less disapproving and a little more curious. “You wrote a musical?”

This was Finn speaking. The impressed nature of his reaction was genuine.

I rocked back and forth on my heels, smiling a bit wider. “I did.”

“What’s it about?”

My heart was in my throat as I realized I was going to have to share this with him.

With Lincoln. With dozens of other people, if I planned to go through with this.

If I wanted to succeed, I’d have to be seen and heard.

It wouldn’t all fall on the music, even if I thought it should speak for itself.

“It’s not anything new or—”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Naomi peeked her head out from behind Finn. “Don’t diminish your work before you’ve given him a chance to enjoy it. Let him decide if it’s good for himself.”

“I was managing expectations,” I said.

“Not your job. You’re busy enough as is.” She disappeared behind her boyfriend once more.

Finn’s gaze softened, and he almost offered me a smile. “Managing expectations feels like a decent way to protect your ego; I get it. But she’s right. Let Lincoln and others decide if they enjoy it.”

I nodded, adding their advice to the laundry list of things I needed to internalize. It was exhausting trying to keep track of everything. And even more so to attempt implementation, but I willed myself forward.

“It doesn’t have to be something new,” Finn added. “People love things that remind them of what they love.”

“It’s a nod to The Nutcracker,” I said.

“That’s a ballet? Right?” he asked. “What’s it about?”

I brushed off my surprise, remembering that not everyone was familiar with theatre. Especially not a guy who was recovering from a brain injury.

“It’s about a girl, a Nutcracker who comes to life, and their adventures in a fairytale world.”

“Sounds whimsical,” Finn said. “Lincoln loves whimsical.”

“I hope so.”

“Even if he didn’t, he would look forward to spending time with you,” he assured.

My cheeks burned. Even faking eye contact became too much.

“I’m sure the same goes for you,” Finn said.

I shrugged. “I don’t know him well enough to say…”

I dared to look up in time to catch Finn’s brow wrinkle. “But you want to? Know him that is.”

Did I? Of course. But not in the way Finn may be alluding to. Not in the way Naomi insisted Lincoln wanted to get to know me.

I’ve never felt the pull to know anyone in that way.

And I hadn’t thought too much about how different my sentiment was until last year, when Naomi found Finn.

She would fantasize about spending time with him and all the touchy-feely, sexual stuff that came with it.

I didn’t mind talking about love or sex.

I never minded watching movies depicting whirlwind romances and happily-ever-afters.

In fact, sometimes it fascinated me how people fell into love or lust so easily.

Because I never looked at someone and imagined cuddling with them.

Fantasizing about being in bed with someone was anything but thrilling.

Why would I want to kiss someone I’d just meet?

Let alone sleep with them. It all seemed impractical and uninteresting.

Like a task, a checklist of things to get through so the other person felt seen and comfortable.

Kiss here. Entwine fingers there. Stare into their eyes like nothing else mattered when, in fact, there are a million other things that mattered as much.

My stomach churned; my heart rate was steady in its uptick. I didn’t know how to explain all that in a succinct way that was easy to understand. I’ve never had to because it never felt imperative for others to understand.

Naomi whispered something in Finn’s ear. She sensed my tension and his confusion becoming something unsettling for both of us.

“I’m not giving Lincoln, apparently,” Finn said apologetically.

“It’s okay.” I tried to smile. “I’m not giving…”

Anything good. Anything hopeful. My hesitation about Lincoln would be a red flag for any friend, especially if said friend believed Lincoln was still interested in me, which I could and would refute if given the opportunity.

I’d burned that bridge long ago. Between the anxiety and my standoffish nature, I was shocked most days even Naomi chose to stick around.

The most interesting thing about me was my music. And even that only went so far.

“But you got the conversation flowing for a little while there,” Naomi jumped in as she moved from behind Finn. “It sounded natural. You two were learning about each other without needing a prompt from someone else.”

“We should try again,” Finn said. “I’ll do better now I know what you all are looking for.”

“No, I think…” I shook my head. “I think this has been more than helpful.”

Naomi’s smile vanished. “You sure? We haven’t even gotten to the part where you tell him about benchmarks. That’s your favorite part!”

I tried to smile as I picked at my nail beds behind my back. “Best not to overprepare. It’ll make the whole thing sound too stiff, right?”

Naomi tilted her head side to side before her reluctant, “Right.”

“One more piece of advice?” Finn asked. “It’s something that helps me.”

“Sure,” I said, shocked he’d even offer any.

“When you talk to Lincoln, you should focus on your purpose,” Finn said.

“When I had to get used to being around people again post-accident, I struggled a lot with getting what I thought and felt out. Especially when it came to talking to Naomi, so I started practicing small talk with anyone I could. While I practiced, I thought of the big picture: connecting with Naomi. That purpose was a north star. Whenever I felt overwhelmed about saying the right thing, I’d think about her and how my practice was helping me connect with her. The goal stabilized me.”

“That’s…really helpful. Thank you.” I’m shocked by how much he shared. It’s the longest I’ve heard Finn speak. He massaged Naomi’s hand, glancing at her throughout as though he was still thinking of ways to get closer to her and still seeing her as his north star.

“When you’re ready to talk to Lincoln, don’t think about planning every word. Think about what you’re trying to share. Where do you want to be when the conversation is over?”

It was easy to smile at Finn when he sounded so sure I would succeed. “Thank you.”

“Did it help? Really?” He looked hopeful.

“A lot,” I promised.

“I’m glad.” He seemed pleased as a soft sigh fell from his lips. “Could I ask you a favor?”

Naomi looked as surprised as I felt. I nodded for him to go on.

“Whatever happens, whenever you get comfortable with him,” Finn said. “Be honest with Lincoln about how you feel about him. He can handle it.”

It wasn’t a warning, but it wasn’t something he wanted me to take lightly either. My skin so hot it probably burned at the touch. If there was one thing I never wanted to do in this lifetime, it was to take advantage of someone’s feelings toward me.

“I will,” I promised. “Don’t worry, I will.”