Chapter 18
Tuck casts me a concerned look as I climb into the cab of his truck. Reese is slouched between us, fiddling with the radio between bites of a Pop-Tart.
I’m well aware I look like shit. My concentration at the garage was shot after Elle left last night. I basically just sat there for another hour before biking home to stare at my bedroom ceiling all night.
I fucked up with Elle. Again. Left her with the laughable impression she’s not the one girl I want because I’m scared to admit that to her.
Getting what I want is a foreign concept to me. It’s fucking ironic, me telling Elle to make her own decisions when I don’t do the same. My entire life has been determined by other people’s choices. My mom, shipping me to Florida. My dad, shipping me back to Fernwood. My brother, creating messes he knows I’ll clean up. Even Tuck, getting me the gig at his uncle’s garage. Playing football would have been an irresponsible decision. But I wouldn’t have hated it being an option.
Ellewasn’t supposed to be an option. I assumed I’d come back to her hating me and dating someone else. I didn’t even let myself consider an alternative, and it’s scary to now.
I know my leaving hurt her. But it hurt me to leave her. And we might be in the same place again right now, but that’ll change again soon. She’ll leave for college, and I won’t.
Staying away seems like the smart move.
But then I think about the look on her face last night when she left. The raw pain she tried so hard to hide.
I’ve already hurt her again, without meaning to.
“You wanna talk about it?” Tuck asks me.
Reese’s head whips in his direction, then mine. “Talk about what?”
“Pretty sure James is having girl trouble.”
“Really? Don’t take advice from Tuck then.”
I glance at Reese in time to catch the teasing look she tosses Tuck’s way. He rolls his eyes as he turns off the trailer park’s dirt road onto the paved street.
“It’s nothing,” I say.
“No, tell me,” Reese replies. “I give great advice.”
I was wrong about the pond, I guess. There’s no trace of jealousy or annoyance on Reese’s face. Her coldness toward Elle must have been about Elle alone. Reese has always taken a harsher stance when it comes to Fernwood’s wealthier residents. To be fair, girls tend to be more vicious. Aside from Hathaway, who likes to antagonize me, most of the guys just ignore me unless we’re in gym class and they want me on their team. The high school I went to in Jacksonville had a hierarchy too. It was just less obviously centered around money.
“It’s nothing,” I repeat. “I just … I messed up.”
“Then, apologize,” Reese says simply.
I exhale, tapping my fingers against the door. “It’s not that easy.”
“It’s a start. And better than doing nothing, which I’m betting was your plan.”
I don’t answer because she’s right about that being my plan and right that it’s a shitty one.
I have apologized to Elle. I keep apologizing to Elle.
We’re past the point where that’s enough. I’m not sure it ever was.
Reese sighs, then looks to Tuck. “Back me up here.”
Tuck brakes at one of Fernwood’s few stoplights, then glances at me. “We’re talking about Elle, right?”
I nod, keeping my eyes straight ahead.
“Ryder.” Reese groans my name. “Seriously? Every guy at school has a crush on her. She doesn’t care about you. She’s just sick of dates at the country club and cars that cost more than your trailer.”
“You don’t know her, remember?”
“Neither do you,” she tells me.
My fingers tap faster. I do, I think. This would be a hell of a lot easier if I didn’t. If our connection was just a fascination with something different. Reese is right; I can’t offer her anything like she’s used to. I don’t dress like I’m headed to a golf tournament, and I’ll never be able to buy her a steak dinner.
“Thanks for the advice.”
Reese sighs again. “I’m just trying to look out for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I force another nod. Reese leans forward and turns up the radio.
Five minutes later, Tuck parks on the east side of the lot. I glance toward the main entrance reflexively, Elle’s red convertible easy to spot in its usual place a few spots to the left of the columns. She’s leaning against the bumper, talking with a few other girls.
“See you guys later,” I say, pretending not to notice the look Tucker and Reese exchange before I walk away. Wondering what I’m about to do, same as me. I’ve only got a couple hundred feet to figure it out.
Elle’s not going to approach me, not after how we ended last night. And I don’t know much about relationships, but I do know the longer we go without talking, the bigger a deal last night will become.
She’s laughing at something one of her friends said, raising a hand to tuck her hair behind one ear, when she sees me. The stutter in her movements and droop in her smile are subtle. But if you’re watching closely, like I am, they’re noticeable.
Fuck it.
I swerve to the right, my heart rate picking up speed with each step I take.
Elle goes completely still when she realizes I’m headed straight toward her. One by one, her friends notice and glance this way. Two of them share a surprised look.
“Good morning, ladies.” I flash a polite smile around, wincing internally when I recognize Maddie is part of the group. After the awkward encounter at her party, I was kinda hoping to avoid her.
Maddie tilts her head, watching me closely.
I shove my hands in my pockets and focus on Elle. “Can I talk to you?”
She clears her throat, tucking more hair behind one ear while holding a textbook to her chest like a shield. “I’m busy.”
I hold her gaze. “I’ll wait.”
Tangible tension hums in the air between us. It’s cooler today, the first traces of fall’s crispiness cutting through the heat that’s lingered ever since I returned to New England.
Elle sucks her lower lip into her mouth, studying me. All it accomplishes is making me recall kissing her last night. Wanting to do it again.
The group of girls surrounding us is all silent, waiting to see what happens next. We’re probably drawing attention from all over the parking lot.
As ridiculous as it sounds, me talking to a One is a rare event. There’s already speculation about my departure and return. And Elle is the One. Unattainable and unapproachable.
“I don’t think we have anything to talk about,” she tells me.
“I disagree.”
I’ve never paid much attention to the spaces between seconds before. But I’m painfully aware of each tiny stretch of time now, waiting for Elle’s response.
“Fine,” she finally says, flipping some hair over her shoulder with a bored expression I can tell is fake.
They all appear blatantly curious, but her friends start to move around us, grabbing backpacks and turning their attention to phones. I recall all the messages Elle showed me at Maddie’s party, certain a text flurry about us is taking place right now.
“See you in homeroom,” one girl tells Elle before walking off with the rest of them.
Elle doesn’t move once her friends leave. “You just told everyone.”
“I know.”
She glances down, running a finger along the spine of her textbook. “So … talk.”
I step forward. We’re only a couple of feet apart now, but it’s still not close enough. So, I step again, until I’m close enough to see the flutter of her pulse just below her jawline.
“Last night, I wasn’t expecting for you to show up. Or for things to, uh, evolve the way they did.”
Elle snorts, still not looking at me. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“I wasn’t disappointed.”
“Just forget about it, Ryder. Whatever you think you need to say … you don’t.” She scoffs. “I should have seen it coming from miles away after last time.”
I reach out, gripping her chin between my fingers and forcing her to look up at me. Her exhale is surprised, her blue eyes wide as they meet mine. They’re the same shade as the clear sky above.
“I want you, Elodie Lily Clarke. I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you. If you think that’s changed … it hasn’t. It won’t. I know I’ve hurt you, and I swear I never meant to.”
“You didn’t want me last night,” she whispers.
“Of course I did. I just … you said it would mean nothing. And it would’ve meant something … to me.”
Elle rolls her eyes. “I said that because, in my experience, you’re the love ’em and leave ’em type. Or the have sex and then disappear for two years type, if you want to get specific. I thought nothing was what you wanted to hear.”
“I didn’t have a choice about leaving,” I tell her softly.
“You had a choice about telling me you were leaving.”
I nod. “You’re right. I did. But if I’d told you I was leaving, if I’d said goodbye, I wouldn’t have been able to get into that car. And I thought you hating me would help you move on faster. It had nothing to do with me not caring. I swear, Elle. Believe that, if nothing else.”
She reaches for the hem of my T-shirt, twisting the gray cotton around one finger. “You can call me Lo again,” she says, her tone soft and almost shy.
“I’m getting whiplash from the nickname privileges.”
Elle’s nose wrinkles as she drops my shirt and shoves my chest. “Never mind.”
I grin. “See what I’m talking about?”
Her inhale is hasty as I take another step closer, near enough that our clothes brush together, but far enough that we’re not actually touching.
“Another thing? I didn’t think you wanted anyone to know about us. I thought you were embarrassed of me. That you liked having a dirty secret. That’s why I’ve avoided you since I’ve been back. I figured I’d done enough. Me staying away was for you, not because it was what I wanted.”
“Oh.” Elle reaches toward the yellow travel mug that’s sitting on the bumper of her car, fiddling with the handle. The steam rising from it smells like jasmine. “Oh,” she repeats, then sips some tea.
I smile at her sudden uncertainty. “We can talk more later, if you want. I just?—”
“No.” Elle sets the tea down, then links her hands behind the back of my neck. “Stop leaving me, okay?” She whispers the words like a secret.
I brush some hair out of her face, tucking it behind one ear carefully. “I’m right here, Lo.”
Then, she’s kissing me. I’m aware of the noise level rising around us for a few seconds before it all fades into the background. All that matters is the sensation of her lips moving against mine, the tease of her tongue against mine.
We make out until the first warning bell rings.
Elle smiles at me before reaching for her mug again.
“You’re a tea drinker?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes. “Sometimes. My mom hates coffee.”
“Why?”
“Long story. And it’ll make more sense once you meet her. I mean—” Her cheeks flush. “Not that you’ll meet her. I just?—”
“I’d like to,” I tell her.
“Yeah?” Her eyes are wide and hopeful, and I think she understands what I mean. That this isn’t small or temporary for me.
I nod. “Yeah.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, worried it’s my mom or a problem with Cormac. It’s my dad, so I shove my phone back in my pocket without answering. Glance at Elle, certain she saw Sperm Donor on the screen.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” she tells me.
“He never wanted kids. And he tries to be a dad sometimes, but we’re both worse off for it.” I half smile. “That would make more sense if you meet him, but I kinda hope you won’t. Because he’s a guy you need to not know to like.”
“I’m sorry, Ry.”
I nod. “I’m used to it by now.”
The second warning bell rings, meaning there’s only a few minutes before homeroom teachers start taking attendance.
“Come on,” I tell her. “I’ll walk you to homeroom.”
“Oh, yeah?” Elle stuffs her textbook into her backpack, then grabs her mug. “Are you going to kiss me in the hallway too?”
I shrug. “Depends how the walk goes.”
“Dick.”
We’re both smiling as we walk inside Fernwood High, holding hands.
I was pretty sure I never fell out of love with Elle Clarke before.
I’m completely certain of it now.