Has to Be Love

by Jolene Perry

  “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.

  And then I ask the question I was always afraid to. Having my eyes closed makes it easier. “Does it feel strange to kiss me?”

  The pause is so long I know he’s actually thinking about it, and I love that he’s taking the time to give me a real answer. I open my eyes to see his thoughtful ones, his body still resting unapologetically on top of mine.

  “You’re new. Everyone feels different.” His fingers brush away a few more stray hairs.

  “You know what I mean.” I stare at his chest instead of looking him in the eye.

  His finger traces my lip. “When I kiss you like this”—his lips touch mine in the softest kiss—“I can feel the difference between one side of your mouth and the other, but just barely. You probably have a warped perception of how drastic your scarring is. And I can’t believe you’re putting me on the spot like this.” He grimaces but is smiling, like we’ve been this intimate a hundred times and not one.

  “I’ve just always wondered.”

  “And you never asked Elias?”

  His name now feels like a language I don’t understand—part dread, part relief, part resignation, part missing him …“No. I never asked him.”

  “Well, when I kiss you harder, like this …” His lips take mine first and then his tongue slides in my mouth again, and I get completely lost in the moment of his warmth and feel and mouth until he pulls away. “Doesn’t feel strange at all.”

  I start to talk, but he puts his fingers over my lips as he smiles. “It’s not weird. It’s not actually strange. It’s just … You’re you. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I got here, and since I kissed you that once, I’ve wanted to kiss you more. Does that answer your question?”

  I grab all the courage I can and pull him closer, feeling the shoulders I stared at a little too much when he first arrived, and kiss him again.

  As he pushes his hips against mine, I can feel how he’s turned on, and instead of scooting away like I probably should, I wrap my leg around him and bring him closer.

  “I can’t …” I gasp before our mouths come together again. “I can’t go too far …”

  His tongue swirls in my mouth again. “Okay,” he whispers as he grasps my hips and presses us even closer.

  “Clara?” Dad’s voice rings out in the barn, and I flip over, knocking Rhodes to the floor.

  “Up here,” I stutter and then stare at Rhodes. “Grab that end of the bale there,” I say as if we were just sitting up here moving bales around.

  Rhodes scrambles to sitting so close to the edge that I’m sure Dad can see he was lying down a moment ago.

  Dread snakes through me because a conversation about sex or Rhodes and kissing in the barn is about the last thing I want to have with my dad in this moment. Or really, in any moment.

  “I got the hay bale, but you can’t keep knocking me over,” he tries to tease in another pathetic attempt to cover up the fact that we were just groping each other in the barn.

  “Don’t worry with that now,” Dad says. “Why don’t you two crawl on down.”

  Rhodes turns to face me and cocks a brow as if questioning what we’re about to face.

  I shrug, knowing I’m still mostly out of view.

  Rhodes pauses at the top of the ladder. “Glad you joined us, Thomas.”

  And I almost believe him.

  A sick kind of dread pools in my stomach as I slide down the ladder in front of Rhodes. The sad, crinkled eyes are all I need to see to know Dad isn’t stupid and knows exactly what was going on.

  “Well.” Rhodes stops at the bottom of the ladder with a small smile, swings his arms forward, and claps his hands together. “It’s been fun, but maybe I should head out.”

  Dad nods a couple times but doesn’t speak, and I bite my lip as I step back and lean against the ladder, wondering if I should try to run for it.

  “So …” Rhodes pauses. “Dinner on Thursday?” he asks.

  “I’ll be in touch.” Dad gives him the briefest of glances. “We’ll see you later, Mr. Kennedy.”

  Ouch. Total dismissal.

  As much as I should keep my eyes on Dad, I see Rhodes pause at the door and give me a soft smile-frown before stepping out.

  “So. I have homework.” I start for the door, but Dad is between the door and me, and he holds his hand up before I’ve had a chance to take two steps.

  “Clara.”

  I pause, unsure if breathing would be smart, every nerve ending teetering on edge. “Yeah, Dad?”

  His head cocks to the side. “He’s four years older than you. And not just a teacher but your teacher. Elias has had me nervous since you two started dating, but Rhodes is … I really like him a lot. But …”

  “But?” I ask instead of just staying quiet and nodding like I should.

  “I worry about his motivation because he’s so much older than you. Rhodes isn’t the kind of guy who is looking for a relationship, which is fine until my daughter’s in the mix.”

  Oh great. “Thank you for giving me so much credit, Dad.”

  He sighs. “You’re a smart girl, Clara. Think about what you’re doing before you do something you regret. Please.”

  I fold my arms over my chest. “Next year we could be in the same college classes, Dad. And not even next year, but within six months.”

  “He give you that line?”

  Curse my father’s ability to see through pretty much everything. “It’s not anything serious. It’s … Elias is intense, always has been. I’m mixed up. I’ll admit it, but Rhodes is easy. There’s no pressure or …”

  More than anything, being with Rhodes is about what I want right now and nothing else. I need to do what I want on my terms, and that’s what I’m doing.

  Dad reaches forward and tugs a few strands of hay from my hair. “When you’re on the floor with a guy, it’s serious.”

  My throat is swelling again, and heat rushes up my throat and cheeks. The idea of my dad knowing what I did with Rhodes … or maybe something of how I feel … It’s too much.

  “I think they’re stellar young men for having such good taste, but as someone who is trying to prove himself responsible enough to handle a teaching position, Rhodes definitely should not be starting any kind of a relationship with a student.”

  I grasp Dad’s arm. “You’re not going to turn him in, are you? Say something to the school?”

  We stare at each other—almost a war of wills—but Dad’s too kind to push forward, and we both know it.

  “If you’re together with him the way you were tonight, then yes. It’s my responsibility, Clara. This is serious. If you two …” He coughs once. And again. And then his eyes are on me so hard, I know he’s about to really force his point. “For example, you’re seventeen and he’s twenty-one. He’s more than three years older and in a position of authority. That could be considered sexual assault of a minor, or—”
>
  “Oh!” I hold my hands up between us, shame rushing up my neck and over my face in a wave of heat. “Dad. Don’t … No. I’m not going to … We’re not …”

  Dad sighs, and once again his wrinkles look deeper, his skin paler, and worry grips at me.

  “I’m okay, Dad. I’m not going to have sex with him.”

  He tugs me into a half hug, and we start for the barn door together. “I’m not sure that you’re okay. You’re still … distracted. Please talk to me. Or Suki. Or even Cecily.”

  There’s something off about leaning into my dad so soon after being so … intense with Rhodes, but I do it anyway because I know it’ll make Dad feel better. I don’t want to internalize how I should or shouldn’t have acted with Rhodes, because I don’t want to talk myself out of doing it again.

  32

  I hit the brakes of my four-wheeler in front of Cecily’s house and run for the porch steps, heart still thundering after the phone call.

  Her door opens, and Cecily steps out with a smile. “I’m not on your way.” She laughs.

  Laughs!

  “Yeah, well. Elias is ignoring me at school, but it’s not like I can suddenly tell his mom I can’t help her at the warehouse,” I protest. “I need you!”

  I spin back around, heart still thrumming, and sprint to the wheeler, throwing one leg over the seat and standing with my feet on the pegs, waiting for Cecily.

  “And you got me,” Cecily climbs on behind me, and I sit on the padded seat so she can hold my waist. “Don’t kill us on the way, alright?”

  I hit the gas the second she’s on, and we tear up the trail that follows the road. “I’m running late,” I yell.

  “I gathered by the fifty text messages warning me to be ready.”

  Bringing Cecily to work is like my buffer. I don’t want it to be obvious that I need one, so I may have slightly lied and told Elias’s mom that a friend was over, and I had to bring her with me.

  Instead of the happy tingling in my stomach I used to get when Motter Construction came into view, my stomach twists, tightens, and rolls over.

  I let go of the gas, and the four-wheeler slows down so fast that Cecily runs into my back.