Leith Iwas 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 ke ep 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 asle ep 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 Mc Avoy 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.
* * * “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 ke ep 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 ke ep 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 conc eptual. If Sullivan is in volved, 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 pr epared 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 fir eplace. 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 de ep. “N