Has to Be Love (16 page)

This is the guy who I
kissed.
What do we do now? He licks his lips once and then again, and I should maybe stop staring at his lips.

“Yeah. Travel,” I say.

I'm waiting for him to say something else, but he steps toward Dad without a trace of tension on his face or his body.

“When do you need to give Columbia their deposit?” Dad asks.

I just stare. He can't be serious. “I don't remember,” I lie.

Rhodes glances back and forth between Dad and me a few times. I'm sure neither of them has any idea what to say right now.

“I can help with dinner,” Rhodes offers.

“Great.” Dad scoots over and I back out of the kitchen into the dining room, knowing that tonight I'm just going to count minutes until I can be alone again.

I clutch my phone and look over the texts from Elias over the past few days.

Been thinking about you … want to talk … miss you … thinking about you … hope everything is okay … I love you … Can't wait to see you again …

Why? Why am I afraid of this? Of him? Elias is offering the kind of solidarity and constancy I can't get anywhere else. I glance up at Rhodes. Think about our kiss and what it might mean or not mean. There is nothing certain about Rhodes. Nothing. And he's going to be all over the world. I can't do that.

The idea of being with Elias. Of creating something permanent and something lasting … something I can count on when everything else is in the air … My shoulders fall a little, my chest loosens a little, and I finally relax into the chair.

No, Elias is definitely someone I shouldn't be afraid of. For the first time, I make myself really think about all the good things that might come if I can say yes to the boy who loves me. And Elias is right—whatever I want, we can do together. I know him. He knows me. My scars won't seem so horrible with someone as good as him. The permanence and foreverness of Elias is a lot less terrifying than the foreverness of my face.

20

It's nearly midnight when Dad finally goes to sleep, but the yard is still lit up in near daylight—another sign of summer. Anxiety zips through me. I just want to move forward. I'm ready. I'm settled. The ripped-insides feeling has finally subsided. I've come to a decision, and it feels like the reprieve I've needed.

Rhodes didn't follow me to the barn when I went to feed the horses. Another sign that he knows our kiss was as much of a mistake as I do.

I jump on my bike and start pedaling up the road. After a few miles, I'm in front of the wooden beams and rock facade that make up the front of the home Elias and his dad designed together. It's so very Alaskan in its massive ruggedness.

I sit in his driveway and lean my bike on its side.

This is it. Why does seeing him now feel so
different?

Maybe I had hope before that my life would be something bigger than what it's going to be. I'm just going to need some time to settle into my decision. That's all.

I walk around the manicured yard and head for the back of the house.

When I knock on Elias's window, I wait maybe two seconds that feel
way
longer than only two seconds, so I knock again. And then again.

Today I realized I've been too afraid to choose. I wasn't choosing Elias or choosing school … Now I'm making the choice that will keep me close to Dad and Elias and close to home. To Mom.

Why is Elias taking so freaking long to get here?

I use my fist this time and his window finally jerks up. “Impatient?”

“Yes.” I scowl.

Elias's features soften. “I'm so glad you're home. That you're here.”

This is it. Him.
The
him. “Me too.”

“I wasn't sure if we were going to talk. I fell asleep with my phone in my hand.” He tilts his head. “Come to the front and I'll let you in.”

“But your parents …”

“My parents own this house. They're allowed to know when I have people over, even when it's in the middle of the night. It's fine.” His voice is kind, but the words … Can anyone be as precise a rule-follower as him? That trait should not set me on edge.

Elias backs away. “Meet you in the front.”

I walk around the house, and he lets me into the front hall. He's wearing an old T-shirt and basketball shorts.

Right. It's the middle of the night. This now seems like something I could have talked to him about tomorrow. The clock on the mantel starts chiming, and I realize it is now tomorrow, so maybe it's less weird that I'm here? Or more weird since no matter what, it's the middle of the night.

“Your dad said that I shouldn't feel bad if you didn't return my calls after your appointment … which you didn't.” His brows go up slightly. “So, I'm hoping I did the right thing by giving you space.”

Space. Doctor. Dad. The whole experience keeps crashing over me and shattering my insides.

“He … the doctor …” I sniff as emotion wells up behind my eyes again. “I can't be fixed. Not really. It'll take forever, and he's not even sure …” I hiccup over the words. “He's not sure …”

Elias's smile doesn't falter as he steps closer, his fingers lightly touching mine. “I wasn't aware you were broken.”

“I meant my face.”

“Clara.” His lips slowly graze my cheek. “You have to believe that your scars aren't an issue for me. I get why you hate them. It's not like they're something you can hide. I get it, but … they don't change who you are. Not to me.”

Of course I don't believe that, but I can't keep this binding sadness pressed inside my chest either. I need to try and believe him.

I slide my fingers through his. Elias's hands are so familiar that it's almost like holding my own. This is good, I think. It means I'm comfortable with him and feel safe with him, and that's super important. I hear married people at church talking about that all the time.
Super
important. I stare at where our hands come together and rub my fingers over his, sort of taking them in again like he was new. This is what I should focus on—all the things I love about home.

Even his palms are calloused from working hard, but not scratchy calloused. Smooth. Nails so short it looks like he bites them, but he'd never do that. Strong. Super strong hands. But then Elias has a super strong body from all the hauling of wood he does. I close my eyes and try to picture him naked. The weighted feeling that's been making it hard to breathe turns into a dancing-in-my-stomach feeling that's decidedly better.

“Clara?”

“Thinking about you,” I say.

“I'm right here.”

“Kiss?” I ask as I turn to face him.

His nose touches my cheek.

I tug on Elias's waist, bringing our hips together and making that butterfly feeling overshadow everything else.

His lips touch mine far too briefly, and then again. And then I part my lips and our kiss deepens. His hands cup my face, and I feel the rhythm of him—all soft sonnets and lullabies. I can do this. Just as fast as his calming energy comes in, my nerves take over. I'm doing it. Now.

I pull away and stare at the guy I know better than maybe anyone else. “My trip made me think about me and you, and what I want and where I want to be, and I love you and I want to be here, and I want the house you're building for us, and I do. I want you. Everything. A life together. So, yes. My answer is yes.”

I'm panting when I'm done because the words just sort of flew out of my mouth. But I do feel how much I love him. It's desperate and has a tight hold on my chest, and I miss him even though we're in the same room. Has to be love.

“Just …” He bends down for a soft kiss. “Stay. Right there.”

Elias backs up and sprints down the hall. He emerges seconds later, not stopping until he's inches from me. “I love you, Clara. I know we're young. I know this is sort of crazy, but I promise you won't be sorry.”

He takes my hand in his shaking one. The sincerity of it all nearly sends me into hysterics, which would definitely not be the right way to react in this situation. It's just too real to feel real.

As he slides the ring on, I do feel settled. I close my eyes, feel his hand on mine, and let myself take in a breath that loosens the tension in my chest.

Decision made.

Now I know how to move forward. From here on out, I'll move forward in all the ways that brought me to this decision. The one that's done. Something can be cleared out of the cluttered mess that's my brain.

“Thank you,” I say. “I love you. Really.”

Elias stares at my hand, the ring resting on my finger. He touches the ring, smiling, before softly pressing his lips to mine.

“Is that how you're going to kiss your new fiancé?” I tease.

He takes my face in his hands again. “Yes. Because I love her that much.”

I'm not sure what he means, but the whole thing feels incredibly genuine and sweet and sort of perfect, so I decide not to ruin it with my rambled thoughts.

“I should get home. I'm pretty sure Dad isn't going to let me miss school.”

“Wait. I want to hold you for a minute.” Elias wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his broad chest, which feels like the perfect place to celebrate this moment. Because this is one of those big moments you should be celebrating.

And I totally am.

I'm way too restless when I get home, so I slide out my small notebook and start writing.

Settled

In a way that calms and breathes

Wants

Peaceful in a way that pushes and holds

Off

Directed in a way that's chosen and safe

Done

Lost in a way that's not expected

Lonely

I watch as the words scrawl across the page and then I stop. That's not my point. My point is that the decision has made me feel
better
about everything. I have a direction. I have a purpose. I have that feeling of
safety
in a boy who knows me. I crumple up the paper and throw it in the direction of my trash. But just like every time I try to throw something away I've written, I can't do it. Sliding out of bed, I pick up the crumpled paper and smooth it out on my desk.

21

I sigh as Elias leans against me backstage. Performance night, and I should be feeling more excitement before the show starts, but it's just another show and just another cast that I only sort of know. I stand by the curtain, my script in hand, watching for my cues.

When the show's over and the final curtain is drawn, I'm dragged into a group hug and I should be feeling elated and excited. I've helped with the plays since I started here freshman year, and this was the last one I'll be a part of, but the experience is … It's just one more thing that's signaling the end of something and the beginning of something else that I don't quite understand yet.

A wedding?

A new kind of life?

Or just a small tweak of an old one? I hope the tweak is more than a small one. I need to feel the change. The difference. The excitement and energy and everything people feel when they step into a new part of their life.

Elias stands off to the side of the stage, letting me have time with the people I should care more about, only I'm standing on the edge of the circle and just nodding when people talk. Rhodes steps next to Elias, and I stare at them from the group of actors still chattering about the show and after-party.

“I keep meaning to tell you congratulations on your engagement.” Rhodes grabs Elias's hand and shakes it, only I have this feeling they're doing one of those typical man things and squeezing as hard as they can. Both smiles seem a little forced, and Elias's knuckles are white—even in the dim backstage light.

“Thank you.” Elias's smile gets wider as Rhodes is the first to let go.

I'm watching, frozen, from a few feet away. It's like when you see animals running across the road and you're sure they'll get hit. You know it's too late to do anything, so you're still and stop breathing, as if that'll somehow help.

“Has Clara decided if she's going to Columbia this fall or is going to defer until next year?” Rhodes asks.

My stomach drops from my body, and I step closer.

“Excuse me?” Elias asks.

I slip my hand through Elias's arm. “We should go.”

“You applied to a school in New York?” Elias's brow furrows.

“I …” I glare at Rhodes, whose face is completely relaxed and unbothered, making me wish I were a more violent person so I could smack that smug look off his face. “I just was curious, that's all,” I say.

Elias glances toward Rhodes as I drag him away. “He made it sound like—”

“Rhodes doesn't know what he's talking about.” I let out a nervous laugh. “It's fine. We'll do whatever together, right?” I ask with a too-forced smile. “Just like you said.”

Elias pauses, and I'm forced to stop.

“Hey.” I step closer to him again. “I love you. I just—”

“Why didn't you
tell
me?” Elias's eyes widen again. “Even … I don't understand why you wouldn't share this with me.”

I throw Rhodes another glare over my shoulder, but he's now
leaning
against the wall like this is no big deal.

There is no way Rhodes didn't bring this up on purpose. In his warped mind, he probably thinks he's being helpful by pulling another asshole move.

“Why don't we get out of here and talk?” I suggest. And hopefully I'll be able to think of what I could tell Elias to make him feel okay about me not telling him.

He nods once, slowly. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Don't forget that we strike set tomorrow,” Rhodes says, suddenly all teacher-like, but when our eyes meet I feel like a million questions are being shot at me.