Young Writers Society

"So, uh, what do you like to do?" Finnley asked. It had been a while since he had had an actual conversation with anyone.

"Not fair!" she cried in mock anger, slapping the grass with one hand. "This is not going to be one of those one sided friendships! No, I'll get you involved if it's the last thing I do. You need to tell me a bit about you before I go exposing my whole life story. Though," she said thoughtfully, "If you keep asking me, I probably won't be able to resist. So. You're a poet. You're also good at thinking, if your blog's any form of measurement."

"My blog?" Finnley asked, bewildered. He sat up very very straight, and looked Mia in the eye for the first time. "What do you know about that?"

"I read it," she said calmly, but though her face was straight, her eyes had a strange gleam to them.

"How did you know it was me? It's anonymous."

"Nothing escapes me. Certainly not new people. 'F'? How is that anonymous if it's the same letter as your own name? I pay attention to these things," she said, catching Finnley's disbelieving look, "but I didn't see any reason to reach out to you. Until now. So, poet, deep thinker, writer. Secret keeper, if you won't talk to me."

"I love animals," Finnley admitted, "and I have a rabbit named Rory." He expected to be ashamed of himself, for the heat to come rushing to his cheeks, but there was none of that. He did feel oddly pleased. Mia smiled encouragingly. "Chemistry is good, I like that, and math. I appreciate art, but I'm no good. I hate live performances, giving speeches and such. Singing is out of the question."

"That's it!" Mia roared joyfully, making Finnley start. "See? You're getting it. We're going to get along just fine, you and I."

Finnley supposed that they would, though it didn't seem as if he would get much say in the matter either way. Soon enough, the bell was ringing and Finnley was packing up and leaving for his next class, unsure whether or not to be relieved about the lack of human contact he got in math. Mia was a bit over the top, but... It had felt nice to talk to someone, even if it was over trivial things.

It seemed Mia was unavoidable, though. Two periods later, he had gym. She gave him a little wave as the teacher explained that they would be playing softball. Finnley groaned; he hated most sports, but this was by far the worst. They were immediately set up in teams, and started playing. Finnley was far from prepared, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Mia hitting the ball out of the field. Evidently she didn't have any qualms with sports.

During the period, it turned out that she had also seen him. Which is why directly after school, she had cornered him again.

"Fin, I don't know how to say this without sounding like a jerk. And I'm really not a jerk, I promise!" she said earnestly, staring up at him with big eyes. "But... You stink at softball. And, I don't want to boast either, but I'm on the school's team, and if you ever needed some tips..."

"Well, it's only gym," Finnley said awkwardly.

"But I can't stand to see you play that way!" Mia burst out, hardly able to contain herself. Her arms made large, agitated swooping motions in the air, nearly hitting some passers by. "Could you maybe meet me tomorrow afternoon at the school field? I've got my own stuff, I can teach you all I know!"

He tried to placate her. "I'm really fine you know, sports just aren't my thing-"

She cut him off without hesitating. "But they could be! Then you don't have to embarrass yourself- oh don't look like that, for goodness sakes I'm not going to judge you- here, take this, it's my phone number. We'll meet at four tomorrow, alright? Wear something comfortable."

Finnley nodded and she bounced off into the distance. Well... He supposed he could really use the help. It couldn't be so bad, could it?

And so Finnley tried to explain his strange new friendship with Mia to his mother. She was happy for him, but honestly just as confused. "Well, I always thought you should be more into sports. All the boys your age are, why not you? That was very sweet of her."

After dinner, Finnley helped to wash and put away dishes. "Sooo..." his mother said, casting a sidelong glance at him that he didn't like. He kept his hands- and his eyes- on the clear stream of water he was cleaning the dishes of their suds and stains with. "Does she seem like the type of girl you'd like to ask out or what? I mean, homecoming is coming up, it'd be nice if you were dating someone..."

Finnley shut off the water and dried his wrinkling fingers, avoiding her gaze. "We're just friends, mom. And it's probably not a great idea to date the only person I'm friends with in this town... If we're even really friends," he added under his breath.

"I see, of course," his mom said, completely unaffected. "Well, I'd still love to meet her parents!"

Finnley laughed and gave her a smile, patting her on the shoulder. "Thanks for the dinner, Mom."

"Anything for you," she said with a tired smile. They sat together and watched some of the Rom-Coms she loved until she began to drift off. Finnley pulled a blanket over her and turned the TV off; she could use a good sleep, and he wasn't about to wake her. He, on the other hand, was in for another long night. It was nearly midnight- she would be here in no time.