Clarke
Friday night arrived faster than I thought it would, and now I was seriously considering pulling the plug on this
entire operation. But once I committed to something, I followed through. Well, the version of me that I wanted to be
would follow through, and even though I didn’t feel like her right now, I needed to act like her.
Still, I was wondering what the hell I had been thinking. I just hoped that I could get out of this unscathed and
with a new roof.
What were you even supposed to wear on a date that wasn’t real? Normally, I’d ask Sadie or Collins about my
outfit, but that wasn’t an option, mostly because that would be the beginning of god knows how many lies I was
about to start telling. I knew that agreeing to Leith’s plan would mean lying to the people around town. But I hadn’t
even thought about how it would feel to lie to my twin sister, my best friend.
Or my parents. I’d never lied to my parents about anything consequential before. Most of my lies were juvenile
or covers for Collins, but this was different. I also couldn’t help but think that lying to my mom about something
might not be the way to help our relationship, but I just had to hope that what I was doing for Toades would
outweigh that.
Plus, if I expected Leith, who can never seem to shut up, not to tell anyone, I had to do the same.
After some contemplation, I pulled the cream-colored sweater I’d originally decided on over my head and
traded it for a navy blue long sleeve with a square neck to go with the light-wash, wide-leg jeans I’d picked out.
I looked in the mirror. This is as good as it’s going to get. I tucked my hair behind my ears and then untucked it.
Then tucked it again and nodded. No more stalling.
I went out to the kitchen, scooped Pearl’s food out of its container, and put it on her mat. She came through her
dog door a few seconds later. There weren’t a lot of things that got Pearl’s attention, but food would always be one
of those things.
I rescued Pearl five years ago—about a year after I moved home. The Sulphurdale Humane Society was holding
a rescue event in the post office parking lot and I was there to drop off a bunch of packages. Pearl wasn’t getting a
lot of attention compared to a litter of puppies, but when I walked past her, she stood up, and I stopped. When I
looked at her, I thought she had sad eyes, but when she looked at me, she started wagging her tail. That was it for
me.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was paying her fifty-dollar adoption fee and loading her into my truck. She
had k ept her giant head on my lap the whole way back to Sweetwater Peak. It was the best decision I’ve ever made.
After I got Pearl I never came home to an empty house. Instead, I came home to this living, breathing thing that
needed me and loved me unconditionally. Even after I got her, I might’ve been lonely, but I was never alone. And at
the time, that changed my world for the better.
I waited now for Pearl to finish eating before I crouched down on the floor with her to rub her ears. Leith would
be here any minute. “I love you, Pearly,” I said. “Guard the house while I’m gone, okay?” She gave me a lick with
her giant tongue in response.
Right then, there was a knock at my front door, and Pearl let out a low, gravelly bark. Good guard dog. There
was a silver wisp next to my front door. I didn’t know if the ghost in my house was aware of my rules, but she’d
never tried to talk to me, so I’d never talked to her. I didn’t even know if she knew I could see her.
I ignored her as I opened the door.
Leith was wearing dark jeans that I assumed were his nice pair because there were no visible r epairs or dirt on
them, a dark green T-shirt, and a chestnut-colored leather jacket that was lined with flannel that looked well loved
and well-worn.
“Hey,” he said with a lopsided smile. “You look amazing.” I didn’t know what I was expecting as a greeting,
but it wasn’t that.
“Oh, um, th-thank you,” I stammered out. He looked great, too, obviously, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. I
didn’t think I could without my face permanently staining itself red—like a plastic Tupperware that never fully
recovered from holding tomato sauce.
Pearl came up next to me, and Leith immediately crouched to give her some attention. “Hey, pretty girl,” he
said in what I assumed was his dog- talking voice. “It’s good to see ya—yeah, it’s good to see ya.” Animals were
my weakness; the way people treated them told me everything I needed to know. He was scratching her ears, and
Pearl was really leaning into it.
Pathetic, I thought. And, same. “Ready to go?” I asked. I needed to get this man off my porch and away from
my dog before I started trying to tear his clothes off or something equally as crazy.
“Yeah,” he said, giving Pearl one more good pat before he stood. I heard some popping noises—like
Boone-level popping noises.
“Oh my god,” I said with a laugh. “Were those your knees?” “Shut up,” Leith said. “I got creaky joints.” “How
old are you?” I said sarcastically. “Same as you,” Leith responded. I was actually a few months younger than him
but saying so would mean admitting I still remembered when his birthday was. So I stayed silent as I shut the door
and locked it behind me.
Leith went to open the passenger door of his truck for me. “You don’t have to do that,” I said. “I’m very
capable of opening my own door.”
“Never said you weren’t,” Leith said as the passenger door creaked open. “I like to do it. And I don’t make my
girlfriends open their own doors
—even the fake ones.”
“Have you had many fake girlfriends?” I asked—trying to ignore the fluttering happening in my stomach at the
word girlfriend.
“You’re my first.” Leith grinned. “Ya know, it’s been a while since I had one of those—a first.”
I knew he was making a joke, but I felt that. I missed having firsts. There was something exhilarating about
doing something or having something happen to you for the first time—first crushes, first kisses, and all that.
My parents inadvertently created romantics out of both Collins and me. On the surface, we might not seem like
it, but when you got past Collins’s walls and my orderly defense mechanisms, we valued love. It was impossible to
grow up with parents who had a love like Dex and Joanie and not want that for myself.
But that was one first I hadn’t experienced yet: first love. I’d only been in one actual relationship, and it was
while I was in New York. I didn’t have a ton of interest in dating in Sweetwater Peak—where I knew nearly
everything about everyone, and if I didn’t know, their dead relatives would tell me all about it if I ever slipped and
gave them the chance.
Which, of course, I wasn’t doing again. Honestly, I’d kind of come to terms with the fact that my life was just
going to be me... and Pearl obviously. I didn’t have any plans to leave Sweetwater Peak. It was my home, and when
I died, I’d probably be tethered to the bench at the cemetery or the creaky screen door at Toades. So, any hope for
romantic love kind of d epended on someone new coming to town, which is what happened with Collins and Brady.
And lightning didn’t strike twice. Don’t get me wrong. I liked my life—liked doing basically whatever I
wanted, whenever I wanted. I liked being my own priority, and it wasn’t like I didn’t have love in my life. I loved
my parents, my sister, my best friend, my town—all of it.
But occasionally, I’d be sitting on the couch, realizing that I had a mountain of dishes to do, that my truck
needed an oil change, that there
were boxes to carry in off the porch at Toades, or that I didn’t have time to go grocery shopping. And for a
minute, I’d wish I had someone to share my load. Someone to lie with me under my lucky stars and think about how
we’d tackle the next day. Together.
But maybe I wasn’t built for love like that. There was also this small, prickly part of me that wondered if I was
too likable to be lovable. If I was so worried about everyone liking me, that I’d spent so much time curating a
“normal,” has-it-all-together personality, that there wasn’t anything underneath it—nothing de eper for someone to
get to know and fall in love with. I felt like a paper doll—pretty to look at, fun to play with, but if it was next to a
Barbie, no one would pick it.
I watched Leith walk around the front of the truck to the driver’s side and get in. “Here,” he said, handing me a
small square of thick paper. When I turned the paper over, there was what looked like a poppy mallow flower inked
onto it. Poppy mallows were wildflowers that looked like regular poppies but were a little smaller and purple and
pink, instead of reds. I loved them—even did a r eport on them in elementary school. Had he remembered? “A little
difficult to find fresh flowers in town right now, but I hope this works too.”
“Leith, you didn’t have to...” My throat felt kind of tight as I looked down at the flower. “This is nice—thank
you.” It might’ve been the nicest thing someone had done for me in recent memory.
“Thank you for doing this, Clarke, seriously,” Leith said quietly before he turned the key in the ignition and his
truck roared to life. “Now, let’s go turn some heads.”