Chapter 21 Leith
Leith
I was scrolling Toades’s online inventory of vintage rings when my mom walked into her living room.
“Hi, honey,” she said as she passed me.
“Hey, stranger,” I said. “I didn’t know you were home tonight.”
“Is that why you’re hanging out here?” she asked. “Instead of your saddle shed that you love so much?”
“I do love my saddle shed,” I said. “But you do have better Wi-Fi.”
“What do you need that for?” My mom craned her neck to look over my shoulder, and I exited out of the internet browser on my phone as quickly as I could.
Not quick enough, though, as it turned out—not much made it past Trudy Wilkes.
“Does this have to do with the Cartwright girl?”
“Her name is Clarke,” I told her.
“I know,” Trudy said. “You haven’t said much to me about her. But Lainey says that the two of you have been spending a lot of time together.”
“We have. And Lainey likes her.”
“Lainey loves her,” my mom said with a small smile.
“Apparently, she spent this afternoon with her at the antiques shop.” Clarke sent me a picture of Lainey sitting on the window seat at Toades with a notebook and a plate of cookies.
I made it my phone screen saver. “She wonders what a girl like that is doing running around with you.”
Helping me keep my farm. “Her and me both,” I said.
“So, it’s serious, then? I mean, I’d assume so since I just caught you scrolling rings. You never did that with Alison.”
Now I remembered why I’d been avoiding my mom over the last month. I didn’t want to talk to her about this because I didn’t want to lie to her about it. Truthfully, I didn’t know how to.
“Clarke is pretty spectacular, Mom,” I said.
My mom nodded slowly, and a smile stretched across her face. “Well, then. Maybe she needs to spend a little more time here when it’s not just you and Lainey.”
“Your calendar is busier than ours.”
“I can always make time for my favorite boy and his favorite girl.”
“Is Clarke coming over?” Lainey asked as she came down the stairs.
“No,” I said at the same time my mom said, “Yes.”
“She’s having dinner with her parents tonight,” I said. “Her dad just got home from a route. So.”
“Tell her to come here for dessert,” Trudy said. “We can do a movie night.”
“I don’t know…” I trailed off. I didn’t know if Clarke and I could fool my mom. She knew me too well. She had to know me well enough for two parents, after all.
“I’ll ask her,” I said finally. Lainey let out a little squeal. All right, it was pretty damn cute how much Lainey liked her.
Lainey didn’t really venture out that often.
She had a good group of friends, but she mostly preferred her own company, and because of that, she usually came directly home after school—to start on her homework or read or whatever.
Making a detour to Toades wasn’t like her, and I liked that she was comfortable enough with Clarke to go out of her comfort zone.
Leith: Hey. I know you’re at your parents’ tonight, but what do you think about coming to the farm for dessert?
Clarke: Please tell me the dessert is literal.
I felt my ears get hot. Now was not the time, Clarke.
“Oh my god. Trudy, is he blushing?” Lainey asked. I forgot that both were staring at me while I did this. My mom was still grinning.
“Shut up,” I muttered.
Leith: Yeah, literal dessert.
Leith: With my mom.
The typing bubble that popped up after my first message immediately went away.
Leith: And Lainey. Obviously.
Lainey was probably a bigger draw than me. I was okay with it.
Clarke: I don’t know…
Leith: We’re going to watch a movie. You won’t even have to talk that much. You can fake sick halfway through.
Clarke couldn’t do that. Well, she could, but she would have to come to my place afterward, because I really needed to talk to her.
The thought of Clarke in my place was different now. She’d been there once before, but that was before…before the weird twist my heart made when I saw her, before we started talking every day, before I knew how sweet she tasted, and before I started to wonder if there was something more here.
Clarke: Okay. Is 8:30 okay?
“Eight-thirty?” I asked out loud.
My mom nodded. “Perfect.”
* * *
Clarke knocked on the door a little over two hours later. In that two hours, my mom and Lainey managed to make two different batches of cookies, some caramel corn, and some ranch Chex mix for something savory. I’d never seen them spring into action like this before.
Lainey answered the door and gave Clarke a hug before she even crossed the threshold. My mom came out of the kitchen and wiped her hands on her apron.
“Clarke, hi,” she said warmly. “We’re so happy you could come. How’s your dad?”
“Already fast asleep in bed, I’m sure,” Clarke said.
Her eyes subtly searched the room for me.
The way her shoulders dropped when she found me coming down the stairs made something that felt like satisfaction appear near my sternum.
“He’s always tired after a long haul like that. Thank you so much for having me.”
“Of course,” my mom said.
“Long time, no see,” Clarke said to Lainey.
“She had a really nice afternoon,” my mom said.
Trudy wasn’t always the most earnest person.
She was funny and sarcastic most of the time, but right now, she was ardent.
My mom worried about Lainey a lot. So did I, but when Lainey was happy, it was one of the greatest things in the world. Clarke made her happy today.
“We were thinking Penelope for a movie,” Lainey said. “Have you seen that?”
“Not for a long time,” Clarke said. “That sounds great.”
“Come, come,” my mom said. “Sit. We’ve got all kinds of snacks. What can I get you to drink?”
“Water is fine,” Clarke said. “Thank you so much.” She waited to move farther into the house until I got to her.
“Hey,” I said with a hand on her waist and a kiss to the side of her head. This part had started to feel damn natural, but that didn’t mean the little electric zing I got from touching her went away. Actually, I think it had gotten worse. “You’re a champ.”
“You owe me,” she said under her breath.
I gave her waist a squeeze in agreement.
When she looked up at me, I realized how close we were—how easy it would be to lean down and kiss her on the mouth or wrap my other arm around her waist and lift her to me, but rules were rules.
I had a love-hate relationship with our no-kissing rule.
On one hand, it led to whatever happened the other night.
On the other hand, I wanted to kiss her so bad it was making me feel unhinged.
“C’mon, lovebirds,” Lainey said. “You can be gross later.”
“Delainey,” my mom tsked, but I could hear the smile in her voice. Lainey was technically my mom’s great-niece, but she was her daughter in every way that mattered. And I knew my mom loved having a kid who was just as sassy as she was.
Clarke and I walked to the free couch together, and I pulled her down next to me. Then Lainey threw one of the extra blankets directly at my head.
“Whoops,” she said innocently. I flipped her off when my mom wasn’t looking. Clarke unfolded the blanket, and I slung my arm over the back of the couch behind her.
“Oh,” I said when I saw the plate of s’more cookies. I reached for one on the coffee table before settling back in. “You’re going to like this one.”
“Is that s’mores?” she asked. “I love s’mores.”
“I know,” I said. Bonfires were a classic Sweetwater Peak pastime—especially for teenagers.
I spent most of my adolescent Friday nights hanging out in a field with the fire roaring.
And if Clarke was there, I always found her next to the s’mores materials.
Back then, I’d take any excuse to talk to her, so I’d tell her I needed help with my math homework or ask her if she’d finished the English assignment.
Most of the time, she huffed and told me to go away.
Clarke split the cookie in half and offered one side to me. I took it.
She nodded as soon as she took a bite and then looked over at my mom. “I need to know how you made these.”
“I’ll give you the recipe,” my mom said. Her smile felt…knowing? It made me uneasy.
“Are we ready for lights?” Lainey asked from the other side of the room. She turned them off before anyone could answer, and as the opening credits rolled, the only light in the room came from the TV and a small lamp by the front door.
I was paranoid that my mom was watching us, so I pulled Clarke closer to me.
I wasn’t expecting her to lay her head on my shoulder in response.
Her shampoo had to be some sort of citrus because I smelled the same acidic brightness mixed with vanilla again.
My knee started to bounce under the blanket from the anxiety bubbling up—anxiety about what my mom was thinking, anxiety about whatever I was feeling for Clarke, anxiety about the farm, and anxiety that all of it could end tonight.
I had already asked so much of Clarke, and I was about to ask for even more. And maybe it would be too much.
Clarke put her hand on my knee, and the bouncing stopped.
I was very aware of just how close Clarke and I were and of all the points where our bodies were touching. That was all I could think about while James McAvoy and Christina Ricci fumbled around each other on the screen.
There was nothing about this fake thing with Clarke that felt like any of my real relationships.
I spent more time with her than anyone else.
She knew more about my life, too—all the shit with the farm and my dad.
I thought about her when I wasn’t with her, and I worried about her.
I didn’t know if that meant that we weren’t supposed to be together…
or if it meant the opposite. Everything I felt about Clarke was different than what I’d felt about anyone else, so I didn’t have anything to compare it to—to contextualize it and help me make sense of it.
I didn’t know why I decided to kiss the top of her head then. Maybe I just wanted to. And maybe that was enough.
* * *