Igniting the Wild Sparks by Ren Alexander Page B

It was like I was on autopilot. My coach had to haul me off, still trying to fight. I was kicked off the team, suspended for a week and banned from joining the soccer team for the rest of high school. That’s the only fight I got in, but I was still so screwed up at the time. That’s when my parents were divorcing. I guess I was acting out. My parents made me see a psychologist for a while so I could ‘talk out my angst.’ She said I was depressed and I was given antidepressants. I took them until I moved out, since my mother wasn’t refilling my prescription anymore.”
    I drop my hand to his knee, as does his gaze. “I’m glad you told me this. Why are you telling me this now, though?”
    He covers my hand with his and gives me a squeeze before looking up to my face. “Because I don’t want any walls between us. I didn’t think it was a big deal that you didn’t know about soccer and my past depression, but I don’t know. I felt that I probably should tell you. I want to be honest with you. I really do want us to be each other’s best friend.”
    I scratch my nails against his pants , moving his fingers above mine. “You are my best friend, Sparks. I always do try to be honest with you.” I guess not hard enough.
    Finn moves his hand from mine, suddenly standing and reaching into his pocket. I watch him intriguingly as he pulls out his phone. He smiles sheepishly and says, “In case of music emergencies.”
    Greg Rodwell has invaded all of our lives.
    I giggle as he puts the phone down next to me on the stone base.  Holding out his hand, he warily smiles. “Dance with me?”
    Putting my hands on my hips, I dubiously scoff, “You’re asking me to dance?”
    He nods and his eyes are circumspect. “I am.”
    I shake my head with an unrestrained smile. “Finn Wilder doesn’t dance.”
    Finn wiggles his fingers to encourage me to grab his hand. “I know, but I need to dance with you.”
    I wave my hands to the empty area around us. “ Do you now? And you’re picking me over all these other women here?”
    A small smile hints at his mouth. “I’ll always pick you, Becks.”
    Laughing, I take his hand and he yanks me up, crashing me to his chest. I squeal, which makes him laugh. Between giggles, I ask, “It’s not Milli Vanilli, is it?”
    Sparks laughs again and rolls his eyes before he becomes serious. “No. It’s my song for you.”  Winding his arms around my waist and holding me close, he back steps to the railing, where he stood for his promo. The lights of Richmond are starting to twinkle below as the sun fades into the horizon.
    I look around and ask, “Doesn’t the park close soon?”
    “Yeah, but I know a guy who knows a guy.” His cocky grin makes a reappearance. My hands go to his shoulders and I embrace his stressed muscles.
    I notice the song playing is K-Ci & Jo-Jo’s “All My Life.” Delighted, yet surprised, I ask, “You picked this song?”
    He nods. “It’s pretty self-explanatory. I heard it a few times and thought about you. It says exactly what I want to say to you, baby. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
    My right hand moves to his left bicep and I trace my fingertips over his shirt. “It must be your shamrock tattoo.” We both chuckle. “I’m pretty lucky, too.” I anxiously clear my throat and peer up at him. “I have a question.”
    His smile suddenly vanishes. “What?” Why does he always anticipate the worst with me?
    Trying not to sound like a whiny child, I calmly ask, “Why am I out in left field? I mean, literally out in left field.”
    Moving his hands from around my back to my hips, Finn is suddenly fidgety and evasive, which immediately raises flags in my head. He cautiously asks, “Why? You don’t want to be there?”
    “I played shortstop. I thought maybe you’d put me there. Left field is boring, Sparks.”
    He tightens his fingers on my hips. “It’s safer.” Shit. Now he sounds like Rod. Why