Chapter 21 Leith #2
“So, prom is coming up,” Lainey said when the credits rolled.
“Are you going?” I asked.
“I have to,” she said. “I’m on student government. And I have to plan and help set up.”
“Oh, you’ll have a blast, Lainey.” My mom clapped her hands together. “Leith, sweetie, remember when you spent an entire day on that poster—”
Oh my god. No. She wasn’t going to bring this up. I gave my mom my most desperate “please stop talking” look.
“—to ask Clarke your junior year, but then Ali asked you first?”
I groaned and put my arm over my face. Yes, when prom rolled around, I decided to shoot my last shot.
All the years I spent trying to get Clarke’s attention, or get her to talk to me, get a rise out of her just to get her to look my way hadn’t worked.
So I had decided to attempt the most predictable, rom-com-movie-ending Hail Mary.
But before I could, Ali had asked. We were friends, and she was a year older than us, so I felt like I had to say yes.
I didn’t want to be the dick that fucked up her senior prom.
Clarke had never found out. And I had hoped to keep it that way.
“Wait, really?” Clarke asked and then moved my arm away. “I didn’t know that.”
“Oh, he had quite the crush on you.” My mom laughed.
Oh god, make it stop.
“It’s probably a good thing it didn’t work out,” Clarke said. “I probably would’ve dropped dead from disbelief if you asked me.”
“Really?” I asked.
“I think my crush on you was disgustingly and glaringly obvious.”
I sat, shocked still, processing. All those years, all those eye rolls, and she had had a crush on me? I didn’t have the wherewithal to come back with my quick wit; all I could pull out was honesty.
“To everyone but me apparently,” I whispered.
“Who says things didn’t work out?” my mom asked. “Look at you two.” Clarke gave my mom a convincing smile, but I could tell it was pulled tight.
“So,” Lainey said, bringing everyone back to the conversation. “Everyone in student government is supposed to ask their parents to chaperone, but Mom has that indoor badminton league starting that night, so…”
“I can do it,” I said. Anything for Lainey—including spending my night in the Sweetwater Peak High School gymnasium.
“Oh,” Lainey said. “Um, I was going to ask Clarke, actually.” My mouth dropped open, and Clarke let out a very real, very amused laugh.
“What the hell, Lanes?” I asked.
“She’s cooler than you.” Lainey shrugged. “But chaperones can bring a date, so maybe you guys can finally go to the prom together?”
“I’m happy to help,” Clarke said. “But I’ll have to think about the date—there might be better options out there.”
I folded my arms across my chest and flopped back down onto the sofa while all the women in my life laughed at my expense.
And I loved it.
Clarke gave my knee a reassuring squeeze, and I trapped her hand there before intertwining my fingers with hers. “I better get going,” she said. “Text me the prom details, Lainey. And thank you, so much, for having me, Trudy. I had a great time.”
“Loved spending time with you, Clarke.” My mom stood and gave Clarke a hug, followed by Lainey. “Walk her out to her truck, Leith.”
“Will do,” I said.
“Can Bill stay with me tonight?” Lainey asked.
“Sure,” I said. “But no more treats, okay?” Lainey nodded.
Clarke and I went out the front door together.
* * *
“Lainey didn’t turn the lights on after the movie so she and my mom could spy on us out the window, you know,” I said as we walked toward Clarke’s truck.
“You think they’re watching?”
“I know they are,” I said as we came to a stop. “You know, you don’t have to do this prom thing.”
“I want to,” Clarke said. “I like Lainey.”
“She’s obsessed with you,” I said. “I think it’s nice for her to have you around—to have a woman that’s not Mom pay attention to her.”
Clarke and I were facing each other now. I smoothed down her hair where it was ruffled from being up against my flannel shirt during the movie.
“I need to talk to you about something,” I said. “Do you want to come down to my place?”
“Is everything okay?”
“Kind of,” I said.
“Very specific.” Clarke nodded. “What about our audience?”
“I think you and me walking down to my place will make both of them very happy—after Lanes gets over the initial ick factor.”
“She kind of reminds me of myself at that age,” Clarke said. “It makes me want to have more empathy for the sixteen-year-old version of me.”
“I think we should all have more empathy for the sixteen-year-old versions of ourselves,” I said, thinking of our most recent revelation. Then I slung my arm over her shoulder. “Gotta keep up appearances with this walk.”
“I admire your dedication to your role,” she said.
I looked up as we walked. The Wyoming night sky was something else—especially on the farm.
There wasn’t any light pollution and that meant that the stars spent every night showing off.
You could see constellations and planets and galaxies.
I saw a flash and a fizzle in the sky directly above me.
“Shooting star!” I said, pointing upward. “God, that never gets old.” We were in front of my shed now, but instead of going inside, both of us stood on the path with our necks craned toward the sky.
“I love the stars,” Clarke said. “They make me feel so settled.”
“They make me feel so small,” I said.
“Is that good or bad?”
“Good,” I said. “I like the perspective.” I heard Clarke’s teeth chattering a few seconds later, and I immediately ushered her inside. “Do you want some tea?” I asked and flipped the switch that I’d connected to my two living room lamps. I had a vendetta against overhead lighting.
“I’m okay,” she said as she walked over to the couch and situated herself under a blanket.
“Make yourself at home,” I said sarcastically.
“Sorry,” she said. “When I get cold, I only have one goal and that is to get warm. It was either this, or climb inside your shirt with you.”
“That also would’ve been fine,” I said. Clarke’s cheeks got more red—not from the cold, I guessed.
“Okay…” She was changing the subject. “So what’s up?” I walked over and lifted her feet from where they were on the couch, sat down, and put her feet back, this time on my lap.
“I went to Ron’s this morning, and Flynn was there,” I said. “With a rich out-of-towner.”
“Do you know who it was?” Clarke asked.
“Said his name was Ed,” I said. “I just have a bad feeling about the whole thing. Especially after the thing with the hardware store. It just feels like Flynn is circling me like a shark, and—”
“Sorry,” Clarke said. Her posture was rigid. “Did you say the person with him was named Ed?”
“Yeah.”
“Did he give you a last name?” I shook my head.
Clarke whipped out her phone, and her thumbs moved at the speed of light before she turned her screen around.
“Was this him?” Sure enough, the Bond villain was on her screen.
I read the search at the top of her screen.
It said: Ed Sullivan, Sullivan Industries.
“Fuuuuuck,” Clarke said angrily and then covered her face with her hands. “He’s the developer that tried to scoop Toades,” she said. “He sent my mom this totally predatory offer and contract, and we were so close to losing the shop—to losing everything, basically.
“If he’s in cahoots with Flynn, I would bet every penny I have that the farm is his next target.”
“ ‘Fuck’ is right,” I groaned.
“We have to do something,” Clarke said. Her hands had moved from her face to her hair.
“I think we should get married,” I blurted out.
Clarke’s head slowly moved back to an upright position.
“P-pardon?”
“If this guy is a developer, then there’s no doubt in my mind that Flynn thinks the farm is his, and right now, their plan is bigger than ours. And I think Ron is in on it. I think he wants the farm to be Flynn’s.”
“Why would he want that?”
“Maybe Flynn promised him some money from the farm sale, which Ron might need…”
“Because he likes to gamble,” Clarke finished for me.
I nodded. “And if that’s the case, it’s time for us to level up the plan.”
Clarke blinked slowly. “So, you want…to get married?”
“Engaged, at least.” The desperation was clear in my voice. “I know it’s crazy, just think about i—”
“I’ll do it,” Clarke cut me off, her voice now animated.
“W-what?”
“Sullivan Industries is bad news, Leith,” she said. “When we started this, Flynn inheriting and selling the farm was conceptual. If Sullivan is involved, it’s not anymore.”
I’d never seen Clarke this fired up. “Sorry,” I said. “I just thought I was going to have to do more convincing. I was prepared to beg. Like a lot.”
“You can still do that if it will make you feel better,” she said. “But I’m in—whatever it takes.”
“Well, shit.” I let out a low whistle. “All right, then.”
“Can we figure out all the details later?” Clarke said.
Her eyes shifted to the corner of the room.
That happened a lot—not in an “I’m avoiding eye contact with you” way but in a “something caught my eye” way.
But every time I looked where she looked, there was nothing.
“I’m starting to get a little bit of a headache. ”
“Of course,” I said. I reached out and moved her hair behind her shoulder. “Are you okay? Do you need me to drive you home?”
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“Can I walk you to your truck at least? My mom told me I had to.” I stood and pulled Clarke off the couch with me.
“Well, if Trudy says…”
She started walking toward the door. God, I wanted her to stay. I could light the fireplace. We could cuddle up on the couch and talk into the hours of the early morning.
But I also wanted her headache-free as soon as possible. I held Clarke close to my side as we walked back up the path.
I opened her truck door, and she hopped inside. “Text me when you get home.”
She nodded. “You got it.”
As I watched her drive off the farm, I knew I was in too deep.