Has to Be Love (22 page)

Mr. Kennedy's brow pulls down. “A different seat …?”

My eyes widen. Elias can't even stand to sit next to me. The burning in my chest is unexpected. Now it's Elias who's rejecting me. Rhodes's eyes catch mine quickly and whatever I'm feeling must be banner-sized across my face because Rhodes nods and Elias takes a seat at the front. No glance back. No double check to see if I'm in the room.

I start calculating the hours we'll be in school until the end of the year.

Nearly seventy.

I might puke.

Rhodes gives me a sympathetic smile after Elias sits down. At least there's nothing I-told-you-so about it. But I catch the familiar sight of the back of Elias's head and my heart feels weighed down again.

29

“Are things any better?” Dad asks as he walks into the kitchen, freshly showered for his date with Suki.

“Like in the three days I've had to share a school with him since breaking his heart?” My lame attempt at a joke falls flat, and we stare at each other with weird, blank expressions until Dad frowns.

“I'm sorry, Clara. Forever is a long time to be with someone when you're not sure.” He blinks a few times as if he's struggling to find more words to maybe help. “Eternal perspective. Remember that.”

Instead of rolling my eyes, I close them. Right now the thirty seconds it takes to pass Elias in the hall feels like an eternity.

Dad straightens his tie, and I hop on the kitchen counter to watch.

“Things are changing with you and Suki,” I say. It's not a question. I already know. If the kiss wasn't enough, the date he's been getting ready for since four this afternoon is.

“Is that weird for you?” Dad pauses as he turns from the small mirror on the fridge.

“More than I thought it would be.” Probably best to be up-front.

Dad stands and his eyes go from the mirror to me. “I can hold off … until you've gone to school or …”

I wave my hand between us. “That's silly, Dad.” I try to find some version of a narrow-eyed, teasing face even though I want a serious answer. “Is that why you want me in New York?”

Dad leans against the counter next to me. “No. You being in New York terrifies me, but not as much as you being unhappy. I sent you there because I needed you to know I'm okay with you going wherever you want to go and doing whatever you want to do, as long as—”

“I'm living a good life and doing what I want in my
soul.”
Which in Dad's mind is following church guidelines and finding ways to be happy—using my
eternal perspective
instead of the bigger part of me that wants to do whatever's easiest
right now.

Dad rests his hand on my knee. “Exactly.”

“So …” I trail off.

“I made an appointment with the specialist in Anchorage that was recommended by Dr. Breckman. Happens just after you graduate, if you'd like to give her a visit.”

Instead of answering I let my eyes fall closed. “And this is just to … um … maybe bleach my scars out a little?”

“That's the idea, but I don't think you need—”

I force my eyes open, even though the darkness behind my lids suits my mood. “I'll think on it.”

“We haven't seen Rhodes in a bit so I invited him for dinner tomorrow. If you're not up for it we can reschedule.”

Without dinners or play practice, I really haven't had a chance to talk to Rhodes since coming home. “Dinner's fine.”

Dad pauses again near the door. “How are you? Really?”

I swallow because for the past three days, every time Cecily asks, I get this huge lump in my throat. Dad asking is the same. “Feeling sort of hollowed out and weird without Elias.”

Dad holds the door handle and faces me. “He's a good kid, Clara. I'm not saying he's not. I'm just glad you're at least giving a chance to the idea of other possibilities.”

Other possibilities …

Go have fun …

I wonder if Dad and Cecily have any idea what they're pushing me toward. Or even if I know where I want to go.

Rhodes holds up his hands as he steps into the barn. “I promise I come in peace.”

I drop Snoopy's brush and lead him back into his stall. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you're running from class to class with your face practically buried in your books. Elias is being a douche by not even talking to you, but I won't dwell on that because I said I come in peace. I just—”

“Is there a point in your rambling?” I ask as I step back out of Snoopy's stall. I don't know if I'm annoyed or just resigned that Rhodes is in my business. “I figured you'd be over here every night trying to convince me to go to school in New York after my trip.”

“That's your decision to make, not mine.” He smiles widely. “So I've tried to keep my mouth shut about it, even though that's the last thing I want to do.”

“Hmm.” I'm not sure what to do with him being here.

“But you had a good time, didn't you? Lachelle said you were a blast.”

“She's something else.”

Rhodes grins. “She is. I'm glad you got out with her.”

I step back out of the stall and flick Snoopy's lock closed.

“Your dad texted to say he ended up with a client late today, and we'd reschedule dinner. So. Come to Palmer with me. An hour away. We can get some Taco Bell or whatever it is that you and Cecily do, and I just … I won't touch you. I won't be a jerk. I just want to talk. We were friends, and I feel like we haven't really talked since …”

The kiss.
No one needs to say it out loud.

I'm so totally suspicious. “Talk about what?”

He gives me a dramatic eye roll as he shakes his head. “Geez, Clara. I don't know. Whatever we want. Anything. Nothing. Movies. Music. Colonizing the moon.
Doctor Who …”

I actually laugh a little, needing something different. Anything different. If I'm being totally honest, wanting Rhodes's life is part of what made me go to New York in the first place. Maybe I'll learn something else. Get another reminder of why I did what I did to Elias and me. I lock Snoopy's stall door and step toward Rhodes. “Okay.”

He freezes and stands up with his brows lifted in surprise. “Okay.”

He stops at the barn door and gestures for me to continue. Then he closes the doors behind us, and I climb into his car smelling like barn and horses. Just like that.

“So, really, what I'm trying to do is take you on your first post-breakup date.” He turns and drives up the road.

“No.”

“Hear me out.” He laughs. “It's not really a date. I'm your teacher, and we both know there are a million ramifications to anything past friendship here. You have zero problems telling me to shove off, which means you're comfortable around me. We're both into books. This should be fun.”

Hmm. He wants to force us to hang together? We'll do it my way instead of his.

“I don't want to talk about me. I want to talk about you.”

His jaw drops in an excited and teasing gesture. “I'm so good at this topic! There's just so much to say!”

I snort before holding in my laughter.

“See? Better already.” He grins. “Ask me anything.”

Ask him anything … He wanted this little venture, so I might as well start big. “Do you believe in God?”

“Oh,” he groans. “I'm not doing this.”

“You dragged me into your car.” I sit sideways to face him. “I wanna do this. Actually get to know you instead of this sidestepping thing we've been doing.”

“Is that what we've been doing? Because I feel like I've been pretty direct about how I feel.”

My face starts to flush, but I pull in a slow breath and shove it away. “So maybe I've been sidestepping, but it still means I don't know as much about you as I want to. So yes, we're doing this.”

“Then let me ask the question first. Why do you?”

“Because when I believe in God, I also believe I'll see my mother again. That gets me through a lot.” I don't allow myself to feel more than the familiar twist of missing Mom because I refuse to be a weirded-out mess today. “I also live my life in a way that I feel good about—most of the time. So … so I also believe because of that.”

“You don't find that a bit of a tease?” he asks.

“What?”

He stares at the road for a few moments. “Like your mom's out there somewhere, just not with you?”

“Don't you find it horribly depressing your brother just disappeared from existence simply because he died?” The words leave my mouth, and Rhodes sits so still that I think I went too far.

His jaw flexes before he answers. “Yes.”

“So, I get the feeling you think I'm stupid for believing in something bigger than me. Like I'm the fool here, but you know what? I don't care if it's not true because I
want
it to be true. I'm going to live my life so much more at ease than you will. So who cares if I'm wrong if it makes me happy while I'm alive?”

He opens his mouth a few times like he's about to talk, but nothing comes out. His smile gets wider, and I notice he has dimples too. Nice ones. “I think you've made the first good argument for religion I've ever heard.”

“Good.” I slug his shoulder, but not because I'm looking for ways to touch him now that we're in this small space. Alone. Together. “Because as lazy as I can be about what I believe, that's not something that'll ever change about me.”

Rhodes's eyes lock on mine for a moment. “Good to know. Now ask me something
else.
Please.”

I stare at him for a moment. “You know what you're like?”

“Oh man. Do I wanna hear this?” he asks with a smirk.

“Yep.” I grin. “You're like a short-story collection. I feel like you're you, but every day you're also a little different.”

“Huh.” He nods a few times as if letting my words sink in. “I'm … I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment.”

“Good.”

“So. Questions?” he asks.

Yes.
I nail him with question after question, and it feels fun and like a game and distraction and exactly what I needed.

This is what I learn about Rhodes Kennedy as I drill him on every aspect of his life that I can think of:

First. He lost his virginity when he was seventeen to a girl he took to prom. This is embarrassing simply because it's such a stereotype, but at the time he didn't much care because she was hot and he was a horny teenager. I tell him he hasn't changed much and get an eye roll.

Second. He doesn't talk to his parents often, and a lot of it has to do with losing his brother. (Rhodes doesn't say this. I infer this from all the other family and religious stuff we talk about.)

Three. He'd major in almost everything if he could. Not biology or physics, but almost everything else.

Four. Rhodes has traveled to twenty countries. He's spent a significant amount of time in ten of those countries. He has college credits from California, New York, France, Great Britain, and Italy. He's hoping to rack up some credits in Greece next.

After student teaching, he still wants to teach high school or maybe college, but not right away. He's totally okay with this because he's loved the experience.

Even in all the conversations over dinner and the deep conversations in the barn and
the kiss,
now is when I finally feel like I'm starting to know Rhodes.

While I listen to him talk, I can't imagine traveling so much. So many new faces. New languages. New explanations. I wouldn't know where to start. “I could never just travel around like you have.”

Rhodes stares at me for a moment, ignoring the road. “Why … why would you say that?”

I stammer a few times before the thought formulates into something that can leave my mouth. “I just … All that traveling … I don't know. How do you even start?”

He shrugs. “You just do. You learn about a program in Italy, and you look into what paperwork you might need, and where you might get student loans or grants for it, and you apply.”

“But that's …”
For other people.
That's seriously how I was going to end that sentence. Why is it for other people? Why can't I be the
other people?

He smiles wide. “It's finally hit you, hasn't it? That you can do it.”

I shake my head a little and sit back. “I don't know.”

“It has. It hit you. It just might not have sunk in quite yet.”

I'm not ready to say, but I do know my world feels just a little bigger than it did this morning.

30

I breathe in deeply when we step into the bookstore. It's no Columbia University library but it works.

“See?” Rhodes bumps my arm. “You needed this.”

I'd never admit this to Dad, but sometimes the bookstore feels as much like church as church—on the non-boring days. “I did need this.”

We walk in silence for a few minutes and then head over to the young adult section, because I'm pretty sure the new Ellen Hopkins book is out and she writes whole novels in poems.

I snatch her new one off the shelf even though it's in hardback and is going to wipe out my cash.

Rhodes taps the book. “I knew you'd like her, but young adult? Really, Clara. You're going to Columbia.”

I clutch the novel more tightly. “I haven't said if I'm going to Columbia or not. And anyway, I love her.” I raise my brows.
“Love.”

“You know, if you want to keep reading fiction for juniors, Sonya Sones writes in prose. Carol Lynch Williams has—”

“
Glimpse.
Read it. Brilliant.”

He cocks a brow. “We really need to do something about this.”

“About what?”

“Your book selections.”

“What would
you
have me read?” I ask.