Has to Be Love (12 page)

“Wait. Clara.” He gently grabs my arm, and instead of shrugging away, I let the feeling of his energy soak through me as I turn to face him. His hand drops, and the loss of warmth is startling.

“If you don't know what you want for
you,
the people you love won't either. And if they're worthy of that love, of what you have to give, they'll want for you what you want for yourself. And the scars …”

“My face … I … I'll make some decisions after we see the plastic surgeon.” That's the most honest answer I've given anyone. Maybe we
are
friends. Maybe I'm stupid for continuing to think of him as my teacher. I'm once again breathing in like it'll bring us closer, which is something I shouldn't be wanting or doing or thinking about.

“I know I'm a guy, so my opinion might not matter as much, but stand tall and own the scars, Clara. They're a part of your past, a part of your life experience, and part of who you are now.” He leans against the doorframe, his blue eyes locked on mine. “Use them as ways of opening conversations. Use them to write. Or get them fixed. I mean, I'd totally get that. But let go of the idea you have in your head of …” He trails off, which maybe means that I'm shaking my head or frowning or crying and not even realizing it. “Let go of the idea that you should be without the marks that are part of you. I think for me, it adds to how interesting you are, so maybe my perception is warped.”

I grit my teeth, but I'm determined to get out the words. “They're not
part
of me. They were
dug into me.”
My eyes flutter a few times before the tears stop pressing into my eyes. I say nothing else. I have no more words.

He reaches for me again but stops and scratches his forehead. “I'm sure you think I'm a weirdo. I'm really usually better with people than this …” He waves his hand between us. “Than I am with you.”

I know exactly what you mean.
“It's fine. I'm probably going to go home and head out for a horse ride.”

“Enjoy your ride. I'm on my own for dinner tonight, which means I'll probably hit McDonald's.”

“Have fun with your heart attack.” I wave as I try not to run for the door.

“Don't fall off the horse,” he says back with a laugh.

Right. Because what would happen if I had more serious damage than I already do?

13

I step into the barn to see that Elias has saddled both Tori and Snoopy. The two horses stand in the middle tied to posts, while Elias runs his hand under the edge of the saddle blanket to make sure it lies right. Even with the horses he's careful.

Snoopy jerks his head my direction, probably wondering why I stopped in the doorway, and Elias turns. Guess we will be alone this afternoon, which is not at all what I planned.

“Oh. Shoot.” He chuckles. “You're earlier than I expected.”

“What …?” I'm not sure how I feel about Elias intruding on my quiet time until his arms come around me. The tension drains from my body.

“You've been distracted lately, and I know you're worried about your trip to Seattle. I thought this was a good way to fix both of those things.”

I hold Elias. He knows me well enough that he's exactly right. A horse ride
is
the perfect thing. I need this. To sort of reconnect with him and myself. We've been … off … working on different rhythms.

My eyes fall closed, and I rest my face on his shoulder, feeling like maybe he'll be able to fill some of the hollowness in my heart.

His arms pull even tighter, crushing our bodies together. “Ready?” he whispers.

I don't move. “In a minute.”

And that's when he really relaxes against me—our bodies, our hearts, our breathing. This is why Elias and I work.

Trees climb around us on every side, and the horses' hooves pad on the clay trail. The tiny buds of green have turned into full leaves almost overnight, adding a greenish tinge to the sunlight that reflects off the white bark of the birch trees. Days like today I'm so glad I don't remember walking with Mom when the bears came. Right now this trail is the exact kind of peace I've needed.

Elias nudges Tori next to Snoopy, and we ride in silence. Side by side. Like we've done a million times since we were kids. We round a corner, and the thick spruce trees block out even more light.

“It's so quiet,” I whisper.

“Why we both love it here,” he says.

He's right, but some days my head is so loud that I wish I could drown out the noise with something other than silence. It hits me then. Elias is quiet—the whole feel of him. Quiet in manner and spirit and thought. Rhodes screams. That's why I react to him. He's loud even when he isn't speaking. That's the rhythm of him. The meter.

An hour into our ride, a house begins to appear through the trees. “What is that?”

“That's my house.” He grins over his shoulder.

“It's so much closer than I thought.” He's a horse ride away from my dad's house, which means by four-wheeler, it would take no time at all. By road the trip is much longer. If I stayed here next year, it would be perfect. An hour horse ride, but probably only a few minutes on my four-wheeler.

“That's sorta perfect, huh?” I ask.

“I hoped you'd think so.” Elias smiles again.

We stop the horses next to the house and tie reins to the trees.

Elias takes my hand and leads me into his house. The idea of him living in and owning a house is still so … permanent. And I want permanent. Eventually.

“Sheetrock's up. Paint will be next, but I'm slammed helping Dad frame in a few smaller places.” Elias's excitement touches every word. He's proud of this place, and he should be. The angles and interesting cut of the stairs are very cool, and it's coming together fast.

He stops us in the living room, taking both my hands in his. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“I know that.” My heart's thumping because the feeling between us is suddenly so … serious.

He breaks away and begins gesturing around the room. “So, picture wood floors and a wood stove in that corner, and—”

“So, really, we're right in front of the wood stove?” I ask, wondering what the weird serious moment was about and why his chatter feels so full of nerves.

“Yep.”

“Sounds warm.” I step closer to him and let his arms slide around me like I knew they would. Being alone with Elias is like heaven when he's not being weird about us being alone.

He lets out a long, slow breath. “I need to ask you something.”

“Okay.” I pull back and look over all the parts of his familiar face. Dark eyes, smooth lips.

“I love you. I can't imagine my life with someone else, Clara. And I've been saving and making money forever, and I'll be doing my own contracts as soon as I graduate, and …” He takes a few breaths in and out as his smile wavers. “I didn't think I'd be so nervous.”

My chest seizes up. And in this split second I get what our afternoon is about. I'm thinking about too much. Dealing with too much to take on something else. He doesn't even know I got in to Columbia. He can't do this now. Not yet. Not … He's going to—

“Marry me, Clara. Please. I love you. I know we're so young, but I know you. I promise to take care of you. Marry me.” He shuffles in his chest pocket and pulls out a diamond ring, holding it between us.

A ring. Final. Real. Permanent.

My head is so full that words keep coming.

Forever.

Change.

Same.

Stay.

Go.

Fight.

Relent.

Safe.

“This is big, Elias.” I hold the ring between my fingers. A simple square diamond—perfect. And something he probably used up most of his savings for.

“I love you. I don't want to spend my life with anyone else, and I know we're young, but that doesn't change how I feel.” His rough hands lightly grasp my shoulders, and the gravity of his words hang between us. “I've watched my parents be so happy, and my brother, and … I've known you for so long. I want that. With you.”

“I just … college and … my stuff …” And all the difficult decisions I rambled on about to Rhodes earlier. Dad likes Elias, but I'm not sure how he'd feel about him as a son-in-law—at least not right now.

Elias rubs up and down my arms because he knows me well enough to know I'm freaking out a little. I'm sure my silence and the way I'm staring at this ring are sort of a dead giveaway.

“I know you have things you want to do, but we can do it all together. I'll help you do whatever you want, Clara.
Anything
you want. But I want you. Always.”

The problem is I don't know what I want yet—at least not completely. My face needs to get fixed first, then I'll be able to think.

My mouth opens a few times, but no words come out. What could I possibly say to make this not happen? For us to be what we were before he pulled this ring from his pocket?

“Look.” He folds the diamond back into his palm.

I swear I can hear how hard his heart is beating. Or maybe that's me. I have to say something. “I'm …”

“I've been thinking about this for a while, but you haven't. It's okay.” His words tumble out. “You can think about it. I mean … you don't have to answer now.”

I'm staring at the floor because I'm so confused. Completely … confused.

Elias lets out a defeated sigh, which feels like a knife driven into my heart. I don't want to hurt him. Without having the guts to look up, I pull him toward me. As my head rests against his hard chest I think about what it would be like to not have to be careful with Elias anymore. What it would be like to go to sleep with him at night and wake up with him in the morning and maybe be naked with him for some of that time in between, and my body shudders in anticipation at the thought of it.

“You'll think about it?” he asks.

“I'm thinking about it right now.” I'm just not sure if I can give him an answer yet.

His arms tighten around me. “You know me, Clara. I know you. We can work through everything together. Live our lives together.”

Elias would be everything. My life here would be everything. I
could
be okay with that. It's not like I
have
to go to Columbia to be a writer or anything … and it's not like I couldn't do
some
of my adventures later … But I think about the ring and Elias and the forever-ness of it, and my face, and I need to make sure.

Dad's at the table with Suki when I step in the door. There are two Subway bags in front of him. The laughter at the table feels jarring and unsettles my already-scattered insides.

Elias and I rode back to the house in quiet and unsaddled the horses in silence. The way he stared at the ground and the way his shoulders stooped almost made me tell him yes before he drove away.

But I didn't. We hugged, which turned into him clutching me for a moment before driving off.

I'm pretty sure I can't feel my limbs because I'm still in shock.

“Dinner?” I ask as I tap a Subway bag.

Dad nods once as his laughter dies down. “Hope that's okay. I was down in Palmer today and picked up sandwiches.”

“How are things, Clara?” Suki's smile is still so wide that I'm not sure she'd hear me even if I answered. Her eyes are on Dad.

I clutch the bag in one hand and rest the other on the back of the chair next to Dad. I could tell him what Elias wants. I could tell him about Columbia. I could ask him for some kind of shield that would enable me to not have to decide on anything until I'm ready. Suki might have some kind of fantastic insights too.

“I have homework,” I say before heading for the narrow stairs to my room.

“Good to see you, Clara!” Suki calls behind me, laughter still raising her voice.

I turn back just in time to see her rest her nose on Dad's cheek.

Laughter has died.

My heart flips over again at how close they're sitting. Best head upstairs.

I open my Subway bag, but food doesn't … I can't really feel my stomach so I have no idea if I'm hungry or not.

I'm still in shock. I guess that's what this weird, panicky feeling is. Writing will help me sort it all out. I snatch my notebook and flip it open to the next empty page.

My pencil makes little scratches in the margins, and I start to write a few times, but everything in me is too tight to let loose on paper. Two hours later I have a few stick figures and a wilty sandwich.

This has never happened before.

14

Not knowing what else to do with myself, I start on a walk from my house to the river. Five days ago Elias proposed, and for five days, I've joked around instead of answering or kissed him instead of answering or hugged him instead of answering …

All Cecily said was,
Yep, I figured he would,
which was completely unhelpful.

The muddy river is beginning to clear, and the rushing sound is as much a part of my childhood as my parents. Timson's large green warehouse and junkyard comes into view, the sun reflecting off the edges of the metal roof. As I get closer, I can see large, unnatural shadows cast through the trees, made by the old fairground rides left to die. The paint on the ancient Ferris wheel is faded reds, greens, and blues, the lightbulbs long since broken out. I wander between a few rows of rusted-out classic cars before stopping next to the ancient Tilt-A-Whirl. The apple-shaped cocoons are tipped at odd angles and frozen on a ride that won't move again.

This is a favorite spot of mine in the summer. The old rides lose something when buried in snow instead of warming with the sun, but today is perfect.

I sit in one of the large apples and give the wheel in the center a jerk, but the ride doesn't move.

Why don't I know what to do? Most people make goals. They work toward those goals. I had a plan, and … and my stupid idea to apply to Columbia threw everything off. And Elias threw everything off again by asking me to marry him while we're
still in high school!