Has to Be Love (23 page)

“Wouldn't hurt to find something by the professors of the school you should go to.”

“I thought you weren't going to push me on which school I should go to,” I say.

Rhodes shrugs.

That's what Renee from the library said too. “I'm not giving up my Ellen Hopkins, but … where should I start?”

Rhodes cackles and claps his hands. “I'm so putting together a reading list for you. I doubt this tiny store will have what we're looking for, but we can try …”

I follow him back a couple of rows. There's something so different about this place now … like looking at my house after the New York apartment. Now I'm looking at my very pristine, very small bookstore and realizing how limited I am in my choices.

Rhodes taps his chin as he scans titles. “There's this great class I took about Dostoevsky and Tolstoy, and another on American novelists … You could start there. I'm assuming you've read
something
by one of them? I don't think we'll have any luck finding books by any of the profs here, but I can hook you up online. You need to read some of the modern award-winners. Need to.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Rhodes pauses after slipping two books off the shelf. “Doing what?”

“Being so nice to me?”

“Because.”
He leans in close enough that I can smell whatever spicy aftershave he uses. “I like you, even though I shouldn't.”

And then he leans back like he didn't just admit something that could change what we are.

I shake my head and stare at the books, that connection I've felt with him striking me again and making it hard to breathe. The fact that he's a teacher doesn't even register when we're outside of school, and being a student teacher and still in school himself doesn't … We just don't feel as separated as I thought we would. I feel more intimidated by the fact that he goes to Columbia, and the fact that he's living a version of the life I think I want to live, than I do about his age or position at my school.

When I step back, I finger author names on the front of books and imagine mine there. But it won't happen, not if I stay here. At least it would take me a lot longer to learn enough. My breaths get short as I think about leaving. Really.

“Shakespeare!” He shouts loud enough that I spin around and shove my hands over his mouth. “They actually have something here that's not SparkNotes,” he says through my hand. “That's cool.”

“Shhh …” I laugh, thrilled for the distraction. “This is the only bookstore near me. I can't afford to get kicked out.”

He takes my hand off his face but doesn't let it go. Our fingers weave together, and now my breathing is shallow for a totally different reason. He feels so
good.
He shouldn't feel so good this soon after I've broken Elias's heart. I stare at his eyes, wishing I could read his mind.

Rhodes seems to know he's pushed some kind of boundary because his face changes again and lightens with a smile. “I want to see your name up there.” He taps a book. “You should be an author. That would be so cool, Clara. So cool.”

“I can't do that. Not a whole book.” But inside part of me is spinning, floating, dancing, swinging on a trapeze suspended by my imagination. I just thought it, and he just said it. Maybe … maybe it could happen.

He snorts and walks slowly farther down the aisle. “Of course you can.”

“No.” I look at the stacks of the books and think,
maybe.
Maybe if I really, really, tried.

“I bet you can recite a random poem.That you come up with. Right now. Your brain is amazing.”

Now I want to see if I can ruffle him. I bite my lower lip and rest my hands on my hips, letting my shirt ride up to expose my stomach. I tilt a brow and take a step closer to him. “There are a
lot
of amazing things about me …”

He leans forward, touching my exposed side briefly with a finger and letting his lips touch my ear. “Don't I know it.”

My cheeks heat up. My heart races. Experiment thwarted. Or failed. Or maybe, with the rush I feel at how close he is, my move worked perfectly. I think about how his friends all said that he liked me. That I could actually have something real with this older, much cooler guy. And that he'd want it for real and not just for distraction. Someone who didn't know me before I got my scars. Someone who met me now, who might
want
me now.

I should not feel so much excitement at the idea of this. It's the
newness
that I crave.

“Poem,” he urges. “Spontaneous. Come on.”

Rhodes drops his hand and backs up like we didn't just have that moment.

I scramble for a sec, but he's right. I can feel the words forming faster than I can say them out loud.

“There's this really annoying guy.

He's totally bothering me.”

I pause just long enough for him to give me a look of mock exasperation. He leans an arm on the bookshelf and watches, waiting for me to continue. The words are there before I open my mouth.

“I stop to wonder why,

but maybe he can't see

that he's the one whose brain

is always a step back.

Oh, how could I train

him to steal a stack

of books from off the floor

as I watch and laugh?

We might run through the door

before we are attacked,

But the old lady here

might not catch us quickly …”

I snort as I try to hold in my laughter, and Rhodes's grin splits his face.

“… stinging bits of fear

that would dissipate so swiftly.

We would be a modern-day

Bonnie and Clyde of books,

listening to the Fray

as our favorites all we took,

And living life as we would be,

careless on the stairs,

With our loot of written word …

We'd run so safely there.”

Rhodes blinks a few times as his face softens and he takes a step closer. This is the intense guy I don't know what to do with. The poem was supposed to be silly. Stupid.

He takes another step. Now he's close enough that I can feel his warmth. His breath. I'm waiting for his lips to meet mine or for his hand to slide around my back, but neither happens. “I want you to know what a huge amount of self-restraint I'm using.”

“Self-restraint?” I squeak.

“I love how I feel around you. I really do love how your mind works. I'm not lying when I say that I think you could go far.”

I swallow hard as he leans almost close enough to kiss me, and it takes everything in me not to move away.

“Thanks for letting me take you out, Clara.” He leans away. “Thank you for the poem.”

I nod once and clutch Ellen's book tighter to my chest.

“We should go before I do something stupid and make you uncomfortable.” His face lightens into a smile. “It's really too bad that I promised to be a gentleman tonight. And too bad we didn't meet in college instead of here.”

We walk toward the cash register in silence.

He slides his hands in his pockets and walks with almost a loose swing. Relaxed. “I didn't mean to make you feel weird, just laying out the facts.”

I nod and blink a few times, suddenly all out of words. I'm baffled that someone like him would even give me a second glance. I was under the impression that more things make sense as you get older rather than less.

Guess I was wrong.

31

I shove the food around on my plate, hoping that if I spread it out enough, Dad won't notice I've only had a few bites. The deadline for fall admissions hovers. I don't have much time to put down my deposit or defer, and I'm not sure why that decision hasn't come to me.

I've left Elias four messages begging him to let me talk and explain, but silence. He still won't even look at me in the hallways. I tried to give him my half of our joint project for history, and he walked away. It's all even worse because I know it's my fault. So, silence at school. No texting back. No Facebook messaging back. Total lockout. In a way I can't blame him, but it's really messing with my sanity.

The moment Dad and Rhodes start talking airplanes again, I get up from the table. Rhodes gives me a questioning look and I shrug, leaving it up to him as to whether or not he follows me.

The smell of hay tickles my nose as I step through the barn door.

“How are you?” Rhodes asks, making me spin around.

“I …” I need to step up and be honest. “I'm not sure.”

Rhodes leans against the stall door. “Elias is being pretty harsh. You deserve better.”

“You're jumping right in.” I scowl and head for the water to fill buckets before I deal with food. I expected him to be softer or something after the other night.

Rhodes stands next to me and takes the bucket to help. “It seemed stupid to avoid the thing that's obviously still weighing on your mind.”

I'm too exhausted over the whole thing to talk about Elias. In some ways, breaking up with him still feels like the stupidest thing I could have done. In other ways, a weight has been lifted, but that comes with guilt I wasn't prepared for.

“I wasn't fair to him. I said yes one minute and no the next, and didn't give him a lot of explanation why.” A few more days of school and then I won't have to face him. There's a nudge of sadness at that—maybe Elias can salvage something after this mess. “Mostly because I don't completely understand why, aside from my need to not be tied down.”

“Is that what you want?” He takes a step closer, and I can't let myself internalize what he might be implying with that move, because there's a good chance I'd jump on him and make a fool out of myself. “To not be tied down? Does that mean you'll be going to New York?”

“I'm not sure.” I head for the ladder that leads to the hayloft, partly to escape Rhodes, because ever since he got here, it's like I've forgotten how to be a regular person when he's around. Not that I seem to be very good at that anyway. “I had a plan, you know? Part of me still wants to stick to that.”

The nearest bales are too far against the back wall so I start to slide a few of them forward. They're heavy and I'm distracted to the point of feeling weak. It's not really an important job so I turn around to go back down but pause. “You wanna come up?” I ask.

“Sure.”

I sit on the floor of the loft, and Rhodes sits next to me.

“Oh. Hey.” My palms are insta-sweaty, and I can't take a deep breath. We're alone. He's close. I'm pretty sure I'm some kind of a bad person because I don't mind. Rhodes and I have done one drive for Taco Bell and the bookstore together. But I'm all fluttery like so much more has happened. Like I'm ready for so much more. Girls like me don't kiss another boy when they're with a boy. They don't immediately want to kiss someone else when they've just broken a guy's heart. And yet … here I am.

“Scoot back?” he asks as he slides against the back wall, stretching his legs out in front of him.

I sit next to him and pull my knees up, wrapping my arms around my legs. Rhodes does the same, and now our legs touch.

“You could do anything, Clara. I don't want to bag on your town, but you're better than this. At least see what the rest of the world has to offer before you settle here.”

“I'm not …” But I don't know how to finish because his leg just touched mine and all thoughts ran from my head.

“I probably shouldn't be here,” he says quietly.

My hands rest on my knees, but his hand slides up his thigh, touching mine as he moves, shooting jolts of excitement and anticipation through me. He traces the top of my hand with his fingertips, and nothing exists but me and Rhodes and this small space in the barn.

After the energy that has spun between us since he arrived, I want to test it out. Him. Us. That's what not having ties does to people—it leaves them free to try out new things. That's what I wanted. That's why I split with someone I know.

I slip my fingers between his, and the only thing I can think of to do now is kiss him. He must have had the same thought because we meet between us, my lips brushing his in the softest touch. Soft enough to make me ache and soft enough to send shivers through me, making my body crave more of him.

“This isn't smart,” he whispers.

“I'm not sure I care.” I wrap my arm around his neck and draw him closer. We fall over and are now lying down, tongues tangling. Everything feels so new. Rhodes and I don't have a comfortable rhythm to kissing, and I don't know what he likes or where my hands should be, but it doesn't seem to matter because we're frantic for a moment before he slows down.

Rhodes pulls back and brushes the hair from my face, cradling my head in his two hands. “As stupid as this may be, I've wanted to do that since the first day I saw you.”

“Why?”

“Something in your eyes, I think. Some kind of smartness or strength or determination or … maybe the fact that I've felt like we were equals since we met. Maybe just because I saw your scars and thought you might be interesting. Have insights. Thoughts. Experiences.”

I breathe in a deep smell of hay and notice the difference between how Elias's body felt next to mine and how Rhodes feels. Because Rhodes is resting his body on mine like he wants it. Like he belongs here. Like it's an okay place to be, which makes me feel much less horrible about our closeness.

“I think you were seeing things you wanted to see,” I tease, and the tease feels so good that it starts to fill in the cracks of all the hurting I've done.

“I don't think so.” He traces the scars, forcing my eye to close, moving his fingertip over my lip.