#finch x reader

It’s a wonderful way to spend the day, that’s for certain. Later today, once the exhaustion catches up to them and all the Manhattan newsies troop back to their Lodging House to recount all they did, all the imaginary battles won and treasures discovered, they’ll all swear that the water had never been bluer, the wind never more well timed. The sun will never shine as perfectly as it did today, and were they able to travel back in time and revisit this day once more, it would never be quite as good as it is right now. 

They’re all slipping on the rose tinted glasses as easily as if they’ve been worn all their lives. Looking around him, Finch watches his friends laugh and shout and enjoy themselves. They deserve this, all of them. They’ve deserved it for a while. Feels good.

Finch himself is leaning against a sun bleached wooden post, idly carving initials into the already scored wood. They were his at first, the letters of his attention, but they’ve started slipping into something else, heralding a name that no longer belongs to him. It takes Finch several minutes to jolt out of his sun induced stupor and realize what he’s doing, and then he recognizes the name for what it is:  Y/N’s.

Makes sense, at least. Finch is nothing if not predictable. He’s been crushing on Y/N for what, six months now, and he’s just as unlikely to give her up as he had been at the start. It’s not his fault, though. Most crushes you can brush off with a few days’ worth of calculated avoidance, but this is different. This is Y/N, and that means everything is out of his control.

It would be one thing if he didn’t see her at all. Finch could just wake up whenever, get his papers and sell them on some opposite corner of the city. He’d come back late and purposefully stick to his circles of his friends, all of which don’t have to include her.

That would be the plan, at least, and then Finch’s traitorous feet keep leading him in the wrong direction. All roads lead back to her, all of Finch’s jokes land best when he’s telling them to her, and every time Finch swears to himself that he’s really over it this time, he’s not in love with her, he goes out of his way to find her again and it’s all over from there on out.

It’s not like it’s her fault, though. Y/N’s not the one who can’t stay away, that blame rests solely on his shoulders. Finch can’t go without seeing Y/N because he doesn’t want to. The thought of going forever without hearing her laugh at some bad joke of his or even just look at him with that knowing smile (she’s aware of his crush, of that he’s damn certain, Y/N knows everything) makes Finch want to break a bone, not necessarily his.

Someone taps his shoulder a little too hard and Finch stumbles slightly, dragged out of the same spiral of thoughts he keeps getting trapped in as of late. His attacker is Race, as it turns out. Belatedly, Finch remembers that he’d been talking to a group of his friends, Race among them. He might have been zoning out a little too much, and now they’ve been waiting for a response from him for too long.

Race spreads his hands exaggeratedly. “Earth to Finch? Did you lose the ability to hear or are you just ignoring us?”

“Ignoring you is my favorite thing most of the time,” Finch says pointedly.

Jojo cackles. “Funny, Finch. Funny. Out of curiosity, why are you carving Y/N’s initials on that post?”

Finch’s eyes widen, caught in the act, and he swats Jojo on the shoulder. “Shout that a little louder, why don’t you? Besides, I didn’t realize you learned your letters. Impressive, you’re almost on the same level as Les now.”

Jojo just grins. “That’s not an insult to me. Les is wicked smart. I think he could con Pulitzer out of all his riches if he tried hard enough.”

Finch can’t argue with that. Race, though, has shuffled forward to peer intently at the wide swathes of initials now decorating the pier’s post. “That’s mighty fine workmanship, I have to say. I bet Y/N would just love to see it, don’t you think so, boys?”

Jojo snorts. “Most certainly. Maybe we can get Katherine to put a column on it in the newspaper. I can see the headline already: ‘Local newsboy has it bad for–”

Jojo spreads his hands as if envisioning the headline in print, and, unfortunately, he doesn’t even flinch when Finch raises his fists to start swinging. “The only one who’s going to have it bad is you when I put you in the hospital, Jojo.”

Race steps in between the two of them, still choked up with laughter. “Easy, easy. No fights here today, Jackie boy made us promise. Now stow that frown, Finch. You know we’se just playing around.”

“Yeah,” Finch says, still eyeing Jojo even after Race steps away, “I know. You should know better than to say a thing about it, though.”

“Of course we do,” Race says placatingly. “Hey, here’s Y/N now, you can talk to her about your latest track record for starting fights. I’m sure she’d be wowed by it.”

At first, Finch thinks Race is just pulling his leg, but then over the blond boy’s shoulder he sees Y/N walking over to them. He carefully shifts his weight so he’s leaning over the part of the wooden post that he’d been carving, making Jojo clap a hand over his mouth lest he break out in laughter once again and give them all away.

“What’s all this about?” Y/N asks once she’s close enough, one brow raised, “Jack said that he could, and I quote, ‘smell a fight brewing from a mile away.’ Can I go tell him he needs a better nose or was he right?”

“He might have been a little right,” Race says airly, “but we’se all good now, we promised. Say, I bet Finch here wants to tell you all about it.”

Finch shoots a murderous glance Race’s way, but the other two boys are already heading away quickly. The second they’re around the corner, Finch can hear their laughter bubbling up again.

“What was that about?” Y/N asks curiously.

Finch groans. “Don’t worry about it. They’se just trying to tease me, that’s all?”

Y/N grins. “Tease you about what?”

“Nothin’,” Finch says decisively, “Nothin’ at all. Trust me on that.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it,” Y/N says, only barely managing to stow a laugh, “It did seem like quite the scuffle, though.”

“It was fine,” Finch says too quickly, then winces to himself. The last thing he wants to do right now is scare her off.

He glances around them in search of something to say, and realizes that the newsboys around them are starting to slip off of their perches and head back towards the streets once more. The sun is setting already, and it’s time to go again. Shame, he was just starting to appreciate their time off.

Y/N’s looking around too, and Finch panics briefly that she’s going to find someone else to laugh with. He hadn’t gotten up the courage to talk to her until just now, so he can’t possibly lose her yet.

“D’you want to walk back with me?”

The words spring out of his lungs like they’re forced out by an explosion. Finch half expects to be choking on gunpowder, but instead his own nerves are the only thing keeping his throat tight as he waits for her answer.

Y/N pauses, turns back around to look at him. It’s a terrible question, obviously– they’re going to the same place, just like everyone else, so why bother making a point of it? Y/N’s eyes narrow, and then she sees something written there in the cracks of his facade and her entire face clears.

Finch doesn’t wholly know what made her change her mind. He isn’t too good at disguising his emotions, which doesn’t matter normally. He gets mad and he wants the others to see it, to think he’s tough. Finch cracks his knuckles and spits on the sidewalk and everyone else has the common sense to walk the other way.

Now, though? When he’s not rolling his eyes or scoffing at the Delanceys? When he’s not tough but genuine, almost soft but never quite, meaning something more than just a threat? Of course she can see it too. Everyone can, probably.

Y/N takes his hand, and the fear that someone can read him half as well as her disappears from his head faster than the train leaving the station at the end of the day. Finch is left hanging in the dust, watching the last of his misgivings running wildly away from him. He tries not to strut or swagger when they’re walking back hand in hand, but. You never know for sure.

It took Finch an entire month of drifting to go back to the familiar deli on the corner, and by then, the joke was up. The newsies didn't bother him when he walked him, taking up his seat by the corner, and when the owner of the establishment came by, he was given a glass of water without incident. 

He hadn't been there long before he spotted (Y/n) across the room, talking with Romeo, and when they smiled with the light of a thousand suns, Finch felt his heart tug again, something that made his shoulders slump. As though they could feel Finch's eyes on them (Y/n) turned around and met his gaze. Their eyes widened in shock, and Finch offered them a wobbly smile, something that made them chuckle more to themself than anyone else. In a haze, (Y/n) walked over to him and sat down, in their hands a nicked seltzer water.

"I haven't seen you in a while," they said, and in their voice was all the fondness that Finch had missed, "Which of my jokes sent you running? I'm trying to keep a running tally - see if they'll work on Race."

Finch laughed with a happiness that made his cheeks warm and left him smiling long after. "I doubt they'll work, but I'm sure you'll work something out."

(Y/n) gave a gentle smile. "So, did you have any adventures in your month away?"

Adventures, Finch smiled at the word. There was something romantic in the idea, as though the world were made of wonderful stories and daring escapes - something fit for those dime novels that Crutchie loved to read. He thought of the pranks that Albert had gotten up to and the jokes that Davey had told, but none of them seemed quite what he was looking for. Nothing seemed to have that spark of adventure that (Y/n) sought, except for the moment he was in. 

"I don't think I had any adventures without you."

"Then tell me something good."

And Finch thought for a moment, but it wasn't long before he was off, telling a story about what happened at the lodging house - the antics that Kenny and Elmer got up to when Jack's back was turned, the epic fight between Mush and Smalls when the former lost his hat and shirt, and the different headlines that he made up when selling with Specs (it started because Specs' glasses were dirty and he misread the paper). As they spoke, enraptured in a time already past, the night wore on and customers steadily left until there was no one but the two of them, enjoying each other's company far too much to say goodnight. 

Eventually, Jacobi came out and told them it was time to close up. Finch grabbed his hat and was walking toward the door when music started, gentle and smooth. He turned around and (Y/n) was sweeping to the beat, their father wiping down the tables and chairs.

"Where's the music coming from?"

"Oh." (Y/n) leaned against their broom and Jacobi disappeared into the kitchen area. "We bought a phonograph - my dad likes to listen while we clean. You can stay if you'd like to listen. We'll pretend like you're cleaning or something."

(Y/n) went back to sweeping, the sound of the broom brushing the floor covered by the sound of music - steady and comfortable - and Finch watched admiring them from afar. The deli was full of warm light and soft sound, full and wonderful, and Finch had that feeling again, like he was home.

(Y/n) caught his eye, their gaze filled with happiness and mirth - like at any moment, they could break out in infectious laughter. They walked over to Finch, set their broom aside, and held out a hand.

"Dance with me?"

Finch scoffed, shocked and surprised but pleasantly so. It was usually like that, with (Y/n), blissfully unprompted and wonderfully spontaneous.

"One dance won't kill you, will it?"

And Finch said no, as he put his hand in theirs, but he had the distinct feeling that (Y/n) was going to be the death of him. 

He talked a lot in general, too. He would contribute to the conversations and make jokes about the books. Y/N was sure that anyone who was looking in their direction could see the way she stared at him like he was some sort of god descended from the heavens. She could only hope that they would be too entranced by him to notice her. She just couldn't help but admire him - he was practically perfect. He didn't get perfect grades, but he always tried. He was on the soccer team, and on game days when the boys wore their jerseys he looked so damn good. And he was just so kind.

Some of the other boys on his team were arrogant and rude, but he never was. She didn't think she had ever seen him push around anyone the way some of the other popular people did. His whole friend group, big as it was, was probably the nicest group of people Y/N had ever had the pleasure of knowing. (Not that she really knew any of them. Her and Crutchie were friends, as were her and JoJo, and Sarah Jacobs was her lab partner, but she didn't really know them all that well.)

One class, while they had been discussing Lady Macbeth, someone had gone off on a bit of a tangent that lead to a conversation solely about Shakespeare. Which, in turn, lead to a conversation about Romeo and Juliet. Romeo, another friend of Finch's who sat on the other side of the room, had immediately brought himself into the conversation and winked at the whole class, making everyone laugh. But, as the conversation continued, it was Finch who dropped from his seat to his knees to deliver a dramatic rendition of Romeo's lines during the balcony scene - talking right to Y/N.

She sat in shock for a second, face flushed with warmth, amazed that he seemed to have remember it word for word. Albert and Race were absolutely dying behind her. Laughing slightly so as not to seem so flustered, she quietly replied with Juliet's lines, the words somehow passing through her lips as if she had always known them. She wasn't even sure she could have repeated it if someone asked, it was a bit of a miracle she remembered at all.

Finch had given her a bright smile, and it was worth it. Anything would have been worth it to see that smile on his face, all his attention on her. The class was full of laughter and even Miss Mullen was chuckling as she tried to get everyone to settle down.

"Return to your seat please, Finch," she said. It was only then that Y/N had realized he was still on his knees looking up at her. Somewhere during his lines he had grabbed her hand without her realizing it, but once he let it go it felt cold and tingly. She couldn't breathe for the rest of the class.

___________

It was only a week after that that JoJo brought up Finch while he and Y/N were working on calculus homework together during study hall.

"Hey, you have english with Finch don't you?" He asked. She nodded, her cheeks warming despite herself. He smiled at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking, and it made her uneasy. "Could you give this back to him? I borrowed it because I forgot mine." He handed her a history textbook and she stuffed into her bag while muttering "sure thing."

The problem was, of course, that Y/N had never been the one to initiate any conversation with Finch. She always let him speak first. She didn't know how to talk to him if she wasn't just responding to something he had said. But she took he book anyway, and tried to take deep breaths as she walked to her English classroom. When she got there, Finch's desk was empty, and so were Albert and Race's. Breathing a sigh of relief she quickly took out his textbook and set it out on his desk before pulling out her English materials.

He walked in with Race and Albert only a minute or so later. They were laughing loudly, but they quieted some as they made their way to their seats. Finch looked at his textbook in confusion and Y/N tried not to look up from the  note she was writing herself to remind her about her science homework.

"How did this get here?" He asked, looking back at his friends, both of them shrugging in response. Y/N took a deep breath as quiet as she could before looking up and opening her mouth.

"JoJo asked me to give it you," she said. "He said you let him borrow it." She could hear Race and Albert snicker behind her and felt her face burning. Had she said something wrong?

When she looked at Finch he was glaring at them, his own face tinted pink. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion on instinct, titling her head at him. He looked back at her and swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing.

"Thanks," he smiled, sliding into his seat. "I appreciate it."

"No problem," she grinned back, trying to ignore the heat in her face. He looked down at his desk, opening the cover of the book. He looked confused again and pulled a piece of paper out of the book, presumably left there by JoJo. Y/N turned so she wasn't facing him directly, not wanting it to seem like she was trying to read his note. But she turned back to him when he made a strangled noise, his face entirely red. Race snatched the paper out of his hands from behind him, reading over it quickly. He burst out laughing, handing it to Albert. Albert accepted it eagerly, letting out a joyous hoot when he read it, crumbling it up and throwing it at Finch's head.

Finch glared at both of them, his face still burning red. Y/N tried not to stare too much, but she too intrigued, and extremely confused. What on earth could JoJo have written? Maybe it wasn't from JoJo, maybe it was from a girl. That would explain how flushed he got, and it would explain his friends' teasing. She tried not to think about it, feeling as disappointment settled in her chest. It had been a foolish hope anyway, to think that maybe she had a chance with Finch of all people. He was too good for her, for anyone.

Finch turned as if he was going to look at her but she looked away quickly, turning back to her papers, frowning. She could feel him looking at her, but she was determined not to give in. Eventually, he looked away and class started.

They didn't talk to each other once all period.

________

Sarah was next. They were finishing up a lab together, putting away all the chemicals and cleaning off the table, when she pulled out a sweatshirt out of her bag. (Y/N briefly wondered how on earth she had even fit it in there with all of her books and binders.)

"Hey, would you mind returning this to Finch? You have last period with him, right?" She smiled kindly at Y/N. Y/N could never say no to Sarah, she liked her too much. (Except for when Sarah proposed mixing chemicals that would definitely cause an explosion, then she could say no.) ("Come on, it'll just make a bit of smoke and a loud noise." "Absolutely not.")

"Yeah, of course," she answered, taking the sweatshirt from Sarah's hands as they walked out of the classroom together.

"Thanks," Sarah bumped their shoulders together and Y/N laughed. "He let me borrow it at lunch, it's been so cold in the cafeteria this week."

"Ugh, I know," Y/N groaned. "I don't understand why they can't up the heat just a little bit. There's literally snow outside."

"Exactly!" Sarah exclaimed. "Well, see ya!" She waved as she went down a different hallway and Y/N gave a small wave of her own. She tried not to think of Sarah wearing Finch's sweatshirt, of the note that had been in his textbook earlier that week. Maybe Sarah had been the one to leave it there, maybe they were a thing. It would probably make sense, they were two of the best people she knew. They would make a great couple.

She tried not to think about it.

Finch was already in English when she got there, looking at something on his phone. She'd been working on getting better at talking to him, telling herself that she didn't have a chance anyway, so what was the worse that could happen if she embarrassed herself? She walked right to her seat, dropping her bag to the floor.

"Here you go," she reached out to hand him his sweatshirt, smiling when he met her eyes. He took it back while raising an eyebrow. In the corner of her eye she could see Race's eyes go wide as he reached over to hit Albert's arm to get his attention. "Sarah gave it to me," she explained. "I had a lab period with her before this."

"Oh, okay." He took it from her, grinning. He moved to fold it, but as he did it made a crinkly sound like paper crumbling. With a confused look, Finch reached into the pocket and pulled out a paper from inside. He unfolded it, read it, and then promptly dropped his head to his desk with no regard for the possibility of a concussion from literally slamming his forehead onto a hard wooden surface.

"Oh my god," Y/N breathed out. "That had to hurt." She was barely concealing a laugh. But he merely groaned without even lifting his head, handing the paper backwards before Race could even make a move for it. Him and Albert laughed again, same as last time. She shot them a questioning look, but they only grinned cheekily.

"Trust me, not something you wanna know," Albert chuckled. Finch held up his middle finger in the redhead's direction, but it only made him and Race laugh harder. Miss Mullen started class shortly after, but Y/N's mind was wandering.

She supposed that that settled it, Sarah was the one sending the notes - and Y/N had absolutely no chance with Finch whatsoever.

__________

The Monday of the next week, it was Crutchie. (Truthfully, Y/N preferred to call him Charlie, but he insisted Crutchie was fine.) (She still called him Charlie most of the time anyway, but he didn't seem to mind.) They had french together two periods before her English class.

They spent most of the class talking since the teacher had given them busy work and they finished quickly and easily with each other's help. Crutchie had been showing her a funny video on his phone of a man who kept slipping while trying to stand up on ice when he startled her as he suddenly snapped and sat up straight.

"I almost forgot," he said as he reached down to where his bag sat next to his desk. "You have last period with Finch, don't you?" She couldn't help but feel a bit of déja vu.

"Yeah, why?" He he dropped a lunchbox on her desk in response.

"He left that in the cafeteria today, do you think you could give it back to him?" She smiled and nodded, glancing up at the clock. The period was over in only a minute, so they both started to pack up.

In English, Finch seemed less than shocked to have his lunchbox plopped on his desk as Y/N sat down.

"Crutchie gave it to me, said you left it in the cafeteria." She spoke as she pulled out her book.

"Crutchie gave it to you?" He asked. Now he was shocked. She nodded, smiling at him briefly before leaning down to grab a pencil from her bag.

"You should open it," Race spoke up, amusement clear in his voice.

"I really don't want to," Finch sighed, running a hand over his face. Still, he opened the lunchbox and pulled out a piece of paper without even having to look for it. He glanced at it quickly before crumbling it up and tossing it back to Race and Albert as if they were dogs he was playing fetch with. A small giggle left her mouth, and he looked at her in surprise.

"What are they, anyway?" She forced herself to ask. "The notes?" She knew she would hate the answer. She knew that. Why would she even ask that? He gave her a pained look and she felt the sudden urge to jump out the window.

"They're.... nothing." He sighed, turning away from her. "They're nothing," he repeated.

She wondered if maybe she had gotten it wrong. Maybe it wasn't a girl, maybe it wasn't Sarah. Maybe it was something bad. She hoped not.

__________

On Tuesday, Y/N had gym with Bill before English. Bill was probably one of her best friends, along with Darcy. They stuck by each other's sides during gym, doing their best to make it look like they were trying while not actually participating at all. The year before they had had gym with a bunch of their friends and the class had actually managed to be fun, but no such luck that year.

They were playing soccer and Parker, one of the boys on the school soccer team, ended up near Y/N during a majority of the game. He kept trying to strike up a conversation with her, shooting her smiles over his shoulder while he ran with the ball. Each time he scored a goal he would look back at her as if he was expecting some sort of reaction. She stuck to smiling politely and give him a thumbs up, not really knowing what else to do. Bill watched the entire thing with obvious interest and confusion, giving Y/N a look whenever he caught her eye. She just shrugged in response.

It was when the game was over and they were walking back to the locker rooms that Parker started to flirt with her. She was flattered, really, but she had no interest. He was nice and cute and all, but she didn't know him and she was still working on getting over her dumb crush on Finch (his teammate). She smiled and nodded while he talked, obviously uncomfortable.

He found her again waiting outside the boys' locker room for Bill. He walked over with a bright smile, and she considered it for just a second. It wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it? Parker was funny and nice, and he was certainly attractive. And he seemed to like her, to be interested in her. It wouldn't be so bad. In fact, it would probably be pretty good. But she wouldn't be all in, and that wasn't fair to him.

He was dropping lines into the conversation again, running a hand through his hair. She racked her brain for any way to escape without being rude. Bill was beside her in a matter of seconds, his arm thrown around her.

"C'mon," he said, not even sparing Parker a glance. "If we don't go you'll be late to English." She nodded, smiling back at Parker. He nodded at her, holding his hands up in a mock surrender at the sight of Bill's arm around her. She breathed a sigh of relief, leaning into her best friend.

"Thanks. I couldn't figure out how to let him down easy." Bill laughed at that.

"You should've just told him you'd rather bang his teammate instead." She gasped and slapped his chest while he laughed joyously. She tried not to smile, but a grin began to form on her face anyway. When they made it to her English classroom, his arm was still around her. She didn't mind, seeing as the school was cold and he provided some extra warmth. He walked her right up to the doorway, tipping an imaginary hat before continuing down the hallway. She giggled at him before entering the room, still smiling.

Finch seemed upset, she realized as she sat down. His eyes were practically burning holes into his desk and his mouth was set in a frown. Even Albert and Race behind her were quiet. She turned around to smile at them, but all they did was nod in response. For some reason she couldn't grasp, they both looked... worried? They kept glancing at Finch with something that resembled sympathy, or maybe pity.

Instantly, Y/N was filled with concern. She kept glancing her at Finch all class period, but he wouldn't look at her. A sick feeling started to settle in her stomach.

__________

Wednesday, she saw Finch after school. She was in the passenger seat of Bill's car, listening to Ariana Grande in the school parking lot. They had just been about to leave when Katherine, a friend of Bill's (and Finch's) ran up to their car to ask Bill a question about an article they had to write for their journalism class. Y/N only slightly payed attention to their conversation, bopping along with the beat to REM.

She jumped when someone knocked on her window. She rolled it down quickly, seeing Race waving at her from outside the car. She smiled at him.

"Aren't you cold out there?" She asked. He shrugged.

"'S not too bad," he answered, even though his teeth were chattering as he spoke.

"You should really go somewhere warm," she pointed out. "Like, maybe, your own car."

"Oh, should I?" He teased. (He was shivering. Literally shivering. She felt the need to roll her eyes.)

"Yes, you should. It was be the smartest decision you could make here." She retorted.

"Smart decisions and Race don't really go together," a new voice joined in. She turned slightly to see Finch walking up to join Race in standing in front of her window, grinning. Race winked at her, all dramatic and exaggerated, and she laughed. "What are you listening to?" Finch asked, leaning closer to try and hear the music. She tried desperately not to think about him getting closer, mentally blaming her darkening cheeks on the cold.

"Ariana Grande's newest album," she tried to answer, but it came out more of a whisper. He was so close, too close. He was practically leaning inside of the car. It would be so easy to meet him with a kiss, or to reach up and run her hand through his hair. (She refrained, thankfully).

"Hate to break this up," Bill interrupted. Y/N looked over to see that Katherine was gone and his window was back up. "But I've got a very cute boyfriend waiting for me to go study with him, so we're gonna leave." Y/N laughed loudly, waving at the boys as Bill rolled her window up for her.

She could have sworn that, as they drove away, Finch's jaw was dropped and Race was sporting a smirk.

__________

On Thursday, Y/N wasn't in class. Race told Finch that he had heard from JoJo that she was home sick for the day. He tried not to be disappointed. (He still was).

He had been hoping to see her, now that he knew he had a chance again. After seeing her and Bill he had just assumed they were together, and it had hurt more than he cared to admit. But, as it turned out, Bill was apparently gay and dating Katherine's friend Darcy. Which meant Y/N was single, and Finch could make a move if he wanted. Which, he did. Want to make a move, that is. But every time he saw her she looked so pretty and put together and he just choked up, never saying what he wanted to. (To be fair, he had literally quoted Romeo and Juliet at her and she still didn't seem to get it, so it couldn't be said that he didn't try.)

His friends did not make his endeavors any easier. Race and Albert had figured his crush out easily and they wouldn't leave him alone about it. Not to mention all of his friends had apparently ganged up on him. First it had been JoJo with the note in his textbook, written in all capitals letters: "ASK HER OUT ALREADY, DUMBASS!" Then, it had been Sarah with the note in his sweatshirt pocket: "Dear Patrick, man up you idiot. Ask her out and put us all out of our misery." And then, even Crutchie had joined in with the note he left in Finch's lunchbox: "just do it already dude."

And, as if it couldn't get worse, then Parker had decided he was going to spend an entire gym class flirting with her to see what happened. She hadn't returned his advances, thank the lord, but it still angered Finch that Parker had done it at all - and for what? To make Finch jealous? (Which, okay, kind of worked.)

He really didn't think it could get any worse.

Jack had left for a field trip during first period that morning for his AP Art class. Finch knew that he was supposed to be back during last period, but he certainly hadn't expected what Jack did when he got back.

It only took a few mumbles and giggles going around the classroom for Finch to look up to see what was causing the small commotion. There, through the window of the classroom door, Jack Kelly could be seen with a shit eating smile holding a sign that read: "ASK HER ON A DATE!" Finch felt his face burn with embarrassment. Race and Albert were consumed by fits of laughter.

Miss Mullen noticed after a few minutes, only turning to her class in utter confusion as a response. It was Romeo who finally got up to open the door and let Jack in.

"She's not even here, dude," he said. "He can't ask her out if she's not here."

"He could text her," Jack suggested. Romeo made an offended noise.

"He absolutely could not! That's not romantic at all!" The class seemed to be slowly catching on and Finch sank lower in his seat, pulling his hoodie up to cover his face.

"Oh my god, you wanna ask Y/N out?" Someone asked. It set everyone else off and the room erupted with noise. Even Miss Mullen seemed interested to hear the story - and Race and Albert were eager to tell it. Finch barely even tried to fight his sudden urge to throw himself out the window. Jack winked at him from the doorway before walking away. Finch scowled at his retreating figure.

When the bell rang, Finch shot up and raced to the door, closing it before anyone could leave. "This information does not leave this room, understand?" He asked. Almost everyone nodded enthusiastically.

"Are you actually gonna ask her out?" A girl asked. Finch sighed, hoping he wouldn't regret his response.

"Yeah, I'm gonna ask her out."

__________

Y/N was grateful when Friday finally arrived. Even with her sick day, the week had been unbearably long. Not to mention the strange and varied behavior from Finch that kept her reeling. (She was trying to let it go, she really was.) (It wasn't working.)

She was walking with Crutchie after French when Romeo came out of nowhere, stopping them in their tracks. She looked around with mild confusion, wondering where on earth he had come from.

"Hey, Y/N," he panted. He was unbelievably out of breath, as if he had sprinted to get there. Once she thought about it, she realized that Romeo had mentioned a few times in English that he had drama while she had french. The teacher who ran the theatre program and the auditorium were on the complete opposite side of the building. Crutchie was smiling next to her with a hand over his mouth that seemed to be the only thing keeping him from bursting out laughing. She gave up try to figure out what they were up to, just nodding at Romeo to continue. He held out a graphing calculator in front of him. "Can you give this to Finch in English? He let me borrow it and he needs it for the homework this weekend but I'm leaving early so I won't be there." His words tumbled out of his mouth at an intense speed, and she had to take a second to decipher what he had said. Sighing, she took the calculator for him.

"Yeah, whatever," she mumbled. "Apparently I'm Finch's private delivery service." Romeo simply nodded before taking off down the hall. She shook her head at him, starting to walk again. Crutchie wouldn't stop looking at her and smiling. "What?" She finally asked as they neared his classroom.

"Nothing," he said, though clearly it wasn't. "Just, have a good day, you know? Enjoy English." He walked away then, going to his class. She stared after him in utter bewilderment, a frown on her face. She was suspicious, to say the least, and very wary of the entire situation.

In study hall, JoJo was acting strange, too. He kept texting like a maniac and looking up at her like he knew a secret, always the same smirk on his face. She attempted to ignore him. When the period ended, he left her with a "have a great English class!" and she practically screamed. What was going on with all of them today? Were they planning to do something to her in English? She couldn't believe that Finch would let them to do anything mean, but it didn't stop her from worrying.

By the time she made it to English she was tense and on edge. Race and Albert walked in a minute after and practically ran to their desks before leaning forward to talk to her.

"Ready for class, L/N?" Albert asked.

"Today's a big day," Race continued. She looked at them both, at their cheeky grins and teasing eyes. With an entirely straight face she looked them each in the eye before turning back around to face the front board. She could practically feel their excitement start to deflate behind her.

"Are you okay?" Race asked her cautiously as Finch slid into his seat. He looked at her, eyes filled with concern.

"Is something wrong?" God, how could anyone not fall in love with a voice like that? She was so doomed.

"No, nothing's wrong," she sighed. "It's just been...." she trailed off, not quite sure what to say. How do you tell a guy that all of his friends have been treating you strangely all day like they were planning some sort of surprise? "A weird day," she finished. "It's been a weird day."

"What happened?" He kept pushing.

"Your friends happened," she mumbled under her breath.

"What?" He titled his head like a confused little puppy. She hated him for it. (She loved him for it.)

"Nothing." She forced a smile onto her face so they would stop pestering her. Miss Mullen, the blessed woman, started class only a second after - saving Y/N form any further interrogation.

Nothing interesting happened in English. She had no idea what everyone was talking about. The only slightly unusual thing was Race and Albert constantly hitting Finch lightly on the back, whispering to him. They seemed to almost be encouraging him. She didn't have the energy to try and figure it out, so she stuck to her English material and blocked out the boys around her.

When the bell rang at the end of class she suddenly remembered the calculator sitting in her bag. She pulled it out quickly and then ran out of the room to catch up to Finch, who had shot out the door the minute class had ended - followed closely by Albert and Race. She found him in the hallway, walking swiftly toward the exit with his friends got on his trail. She raced up to him, grabbing his hand to pull him back. He looked back at her with wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Hey," she breathed, panting slightly from her small run. "Romeo said to give this to you, I almost forgot. He said you would need it for the homework." Finch stared at it like it was something alien as he slowly took it from her hands. "Right, well, have a good weekend! I've gotta -"

"This isn't my calculator," he interrupted her.

"Wait, what?"

"My calculator is in my bag. This isn't mine." He tried to hand it back to her, but she held her hands up in a mock surrender.

"Well, Romeo said to give it to you, so..." She looked to Race and Albert for help, but their eyes were trained on Finch. She returned her gaze to him as well when he sighed, reluctantly turning the calculator on. Though she couldn't make out the words, she could tell that someone had typed something out on the screen. Finch looked like he wanted to throw the thing at the wall. "Okay," she spoke up. "I really should go, Bill and Darcy'll be waiting for me. I'll see you guys on Monday."

She was half turned around when his voice reached her ears.

"Do you wanna go out with me?" She practically choked, whipping back around to face him as her face burned. She tried to respond, spluttering and stumbling over her words before finally managing a meek "what?" He took a few steps to close most of the distance between them, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck as his eyes stayed trained on his shoes.

"Do you want to go on a date with me?" He asked again. "I really like you and I think -"

"Yes," she breathed, eyes wide as she looked at him with a brilliant smile. "Yes, I'd love to go on a date with you." His head snapped up as his eyes met hers, a grin spreading across his face.

"Okay, cool," he said, matching her breathy tone. "Yeah, cool. I'll - uh. I'll text you, yeah?" She nodded happily.

"I've gotta..." she pointed behind her, hoping he would understand. Her brain couldn't formulate words. Not when the boy she had spent days trying to get over was asking on her date, and being adorably nervous about it.

"Right! Yeah, okay. I'll see you soon?" She nodded again, and they stood there just smiling at each other until someone cleared their throat. She snapped out of her daze and turned to see Race and Albert watching the two of them. Her face flushed again, as she waved and started to make her way toward the parking lot where she knew her friends would be waiting.

The entire ride home she gave all the details to Bill and Darcy as they hooted and hollered at her every word.

It was Sarah who eventually explained to her what all the notes had been. Apparently, everyone but her had known that Finch had had a crush on her. The final push had been what Romeo has typed in his calculator: IF YOU DON’T I WILL.

Two weeks after he asked her out, they walked into English holding hands - a bit later than usual because they had met up to walk together, but still making it before the bell. The whole class practically gave them a standing ovation.

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