Chapter 16 Clarke
Clarke
Leith was sitting across the table from me perusing the Sevens menu.
After the headache debacle yesterday, I didn’t have the energy to go out and be his fake girlfriend, so I went home to rest. But we were back at it today.
Admittedly, I wasn’t the biggest fan of our fake date being at my best friend’s parents’ restaurant, but Sevens was one of the busiest places in Sweetwater Peak—especially in the winter—and Leith and I needed to be seen.
Which is also why we were sitting at a two-top table smack-dab in the middle of the restaurant instead of in one of the cozy booths that lined the perimeter.
“Why do I, like, thoroughly examine the menu every time I come here as if I haven’t been ordering the same thing for a decade?”
I chewed the inside of my lip and fiddled with the ends of my hair.
“Hey,” Leith said, reaching across the table and grabbing my hand. “Relax.”
“I can feel everyone staring at us,” I whispered. “Sadie’s dad has come out from the kitchen twice to gawk.”
“Look at me,” Leith said. My gaze rose to meet his—soft and understanding. “It’s just you and me, honey.”
“But it isn’t,” I said.
“But we’re all that matter, Clarke,” Leith said.
“And we have a good time together, don’t we?
” I rolled my eyes. But I had to admit that I didn’t hate spending time with him.
Or maybe I just hadn’t realized how truly lonely I had been until yesterday.
“See? I knew you liked me,” Leith said, and I could hear the grin growing on his face.
“You’re concerningly sure of yourself, you know,” I said.
“It’s all a ruse,” Leith said. “I’m actually extremely unsure of myself, but no one would ever guess.”
“Prove it,” I said.
“Not right now.” Leith shook his head. “Not when everyone around us is trying to tune their ears to our exact frequency to listen in to whatever we’re saying.
” He was right. I could practically see the radio antennas coming out of everyone’s ears.
Joyce Higgins even had her phone out and was trying to inconspicuously take our photo.
It was very conspicuous.
Leith turned to see what I was looking at, and I saw his eyes zeroed in on Joyce’s phone. He waved and flashed his signature smile. Joyce promptly put her phone down.
“I knew we’d be a topic of conversation, but I didn’t think that the town would be this obsessed,” Leith said.
“Everybody loves a romance,” I said.
“Why is that, do you think?”
“Hope, probably.” I shrugged. “Love is hopeful—in every form—but romantic love is one of those things that not everyone is guaranteed. So when it happens, people think it’s special. I know I do.” Even if I had never had a first love, I found myself thinking about love…almost all the time.
I think it had something to do with my job and probably my abilities too.
When a piece of furniture comes through the shop, I don’t just see a chair or a table.
I see the first thing that someone picked out for their first home—something that was part of their every day for a significant period before it went to the next place and maybe the place after that before it ended up at Toades.
And then one day, out of the blue, a spirit appears next to it and realizes that was the kitchen table they picked out with their partner sixty years earlier. Where they went over bills, ate countless dinners, and where they found out that kitchen table was going to be too small soon.
“That’s…kinda beautiful,” Leith said.
“Or they just like the hot gossip. Could be that too.”
“You are hot.” Leith nodded, and I felt my cheeks get red.
I knew he was making a joke, most likely in the hope that everyone around us might hear, but I still felt the impact of it against my skin.
It was the way he said it—like it was obvious.
But I didn’t get called…hot. Ever. I got called pretty or sweet or cute all the time, but I wasn’t the hot one.
That was Collins with all of her devil-may-care, mysterious, artistic baddie energy.
I was saved from having to respond by a teenager coming to take our order.
I didn’t know their name, but they looked like they had to be at least kind of Papadakis adjacent.
That was the thing about Sweetwater Peak; even if I didn’t know someone by name, I could usually tell which family tree they belonged to.
“Okay,” Leith said. “Safe dating questions. What’s your favorite food?”
“Is this a judgment-free zone?” I asked.
“Always, Clarke,” Leith said. He was more earnest than the situation called for. It made me feel…safe, kind of.
“Vienna sausages,” I mumbled. Leith’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open a little. “On a bargain brand saltine cracker.”
“Clarke…”
“You said you wouldn’t judge!” I held up a hand. “I love some canned meat, okay? And my boyfriend should know that.”
Leith let out a long sigh. “That was not what I was expecting,” he said. “Shit.”
“Okay, Judge Judy. What’s yours?”
“Barbecue chicken pizza,” Leith said. “Because, you know, I’m a normal person.”
“I find canned foods comforting.” I grinned.
“I love a canned food,” Leith argued. “Just not ones that look like chubby demon fingers.”
A laugh bubbled out of me. “Is that because they remind you of your own chubby demon fingers?” I retorted.
Leith held up his hand, palm facing me. For some reason, I lifted my hand, too, and pressed my palm to his.
His fingers were inches longer than mine.
No chubby demon fingers here. My cheeks got hot, and I pulled my hand away.
“What’s your favorite movie?” I croaked out.
“The Truman Show,” Leith said immediately. “Or maybe Tuck Everlasting.” I raised a brow at him. “Lainey went through a phase when she was, like, thirteen when we watched that every day. What’s yours?”
“Ten Things I Hate About You, probably,” I said. “It’s a classic.”
“You’re kind of like a nicer Kat Stratford,” Leith said. “Independent, smart, hard worker…”
“Kat doesn’t care what anyone thinks about her.” I shook my head. “I care what everyone thinks about me all the time.” I didn’t mean to say that out loud, especially not here.
I watched his eyes soften and felt his thumb start to draw circles on the back of my hand. I’d forgotten he was holding my hand across the table.
“I think you’re…magnificent, Clarke. Really, I do,” Leith said. All his attention was on me. I didn’t know how to deal with it.
“W-what’s your favorite song?”
“ ‘Shadows of the Night,’ Pat Benatar,” Leith said. “Easy. What’s yours?” I opened my mouth, but Leith cut me off. “Wait, don’t tell me. I think I know.”
Leith scooted his chair back, and I missed the weight of his hand on mine.
“What are you—” I started but he was already en route to the…
jukebox? I ignored the way my cheeks heated again when he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.
I watched him flip through the songs, and I wasn’t the only one.
It seemed like the entire restaurant was waiting to see what Leith had up his flannel sleeve.
A few seconds later, the beginning notes of “Give Me One Reason,” by Tracy Chapman made their way to my ears. Something between a gasp and a laugh came out of my mouth. How did he…? Razzle-fucking-dazzle, I guess.
Leith turned back toward me with the widest grin I’d ever seen, and his eyes lit up even more when he saw my reaction. He started dancing—very badly—back toward the table.
I couldn’t help the giggles when he flipped his baseball cap around and started doing finger guns and hip thrusts in sync with his steps. The entire restaurant had started to sway a little, letting the genius musical stylings of Tracy Chapman take us all to the same place.
Leith was giving me the goofiest face as he approached the table. “This is not your best look,” I said through laughter. In response, he moved his hips in an even bigger circle and nodded his head.
“You haven’t seen anything yet, honey.”
“Oh my god.” I covered my eyes with my hands and peeked between my fingers. Leith grabbed my wrist and pulled me up from my chair. “No, no, no.”
“Let go, Clarke,” Leith whispered in my ear before dipping me backward. The laugh that came out of me was unfamiliar—true and deep.
I knew Leith was just putting on a show—a hell of one, to be sure—but I realized in that moment how jealous I was of him. He was so free and uninhibited. When I was in his orbit, I sometimes forgot that I was supposed to care about what everyone was saying about me or us or anything.
I didn’t care that my hair was most likely messed up or that I was probably red as an apple. I didn’t care that my laugh probably sounded like a banshee that had smoked ten packs a day for the entirety of its immortal life and that everyone heard it.
For a small moment in time, Leith freed me from the shackles of my perfectionism—just by being himself.
When he lifted me back toward him, he held me close. I pressed my forehead against his without thinking. I didn’t know why I was breathing so heavy. I felt him everywhere. “You’re an idiot,” I breathed.
“Your idiot,” he said—a little louder than he needed to.
Oh.
Right.
This was all part of our act. We were performing. It wasn’t real.
Someone cleared their throat behind us. It was our server holding a tray of food. I finagled myself out of Leith’s arms—not too quickly that someone would think something was wrong, but quickly enough that Leith’s brow furrowed a little.
“Sorry,” I said to the server. Leith tilted his head at me as we sat down—confused.
I tried to give him a reassuring smile. “How…” I started. “How did you know my favorite song?”
“You used to hum it constantly,” he said. “Especially when you were focused on something—like a book.”
I swallowed hard. I had no idea Leith had been paying attention.
“Oh,” I said dumbly. “Right.”