Honeysuckle Love (10 page)

“What?” Evan asked. He pushed a hand through his unruly locks.

“He’s been dead for awhile,” she explained.

“Ohhh.” Evan opened his notebook, and Clara suddenly realized that he planned to stay in the seat next to her. She grew instantly nervous.

“And what are you reading now?” he asked noting the book laying on her desk.

Clara looked at him. “You’re not really interested,” she said.

“I am,” Evan replied. He looked at her, eyebrows raised, awaiting her response.

“
Collected Poems by W. B. Yeats
,” she said. “He’s my favorite poet.”

“Is he dead or alive?” Evan asked.

“You don’t know a thing, do you?” Clara asked laughing.

“Not a damn thing,” Evan said. “Now why is he your favorite poet?”

Clara considered the question then opened her book. She flipped to a particular spot, placed her bookmark in it, then closed the book and handed it to Evan.

“When you get a chance today read ‘The Fisherman,’” Clara said. “And you’ll understand why.”

“Okay,” Evan replied taking the book.

“And then I want my book back,” Clara said.

Evan grinned. “You should probably work at a bookstore instead of me,” he suggested. “I think I told a customer the other day that she could expect the eighth installment of the
Harry Potter
series next month.”

Clara chuckled.

“There’s no eighth installment is there?” he asked teasingly.

Clara shook her head.

“Well, ask me anything you want to know about quantum mechanics and I can point you in the right direction,” he said.

Clara’s eyebrows shot up.

“Okay, that’s a lie,” Evan said. “I was just trying to impress you. I don’t know anything about quantum mechanics or where to find books about it in the store. But I am pretty good with calculus and I do know where those books are located.”

Clara nodded.

“Wow, I really feel like I’m talking a lot,” Evan said. He ran his hand through his hair again. “Am I talking a lot?”

“Maybe a little,” Clara replied. “But I don’t mind.”

Their faces turned a mutual shade of pink.

“What’s up man?” Clara looked up at the boy who addressed Evan.

“Oh, hey Chris,” Evan replied. They clasped hands in a kind of inverted handshake.

“You comin’?” Chris asked.

“No, I’m gonna hang out here,” Evan said.

“Okay man,” Chris said indifferently. “See you later,” and he walked to a seat on the other side of the room.

Evan turned back to Clara. “So I know your favorite poet. Who’s your favorite author?”

“I don’t have a favorite,” Clara replied. “There are too many good ones I like.”

“I imagine mine would be Stephen King,” Evan said. “If I had a favorite.”

“I can’t read scary stories. They terrify me. But I guess you like them?” Clara asked.

“He writes scary stories?”

The tardy bell drowned out Clara’s laughter as the remaining students hurried into class. She tried to concentrate during the lecture, but it was hard with Evan sitting so close. She wanted him to keep saying silly things to her to make her laugh. She loved feeling the laughter all throughout her body, making her warm and giddy. It made her forget about her troubles. It made her feel special.

She didn’t understand why he chose to sit beside her today. He always sat with his friends on the opposite side of the room. Were they wondering, too, why he chose to hang out with a nobody? She would not get caught up in the ridiculous idea that he liked her. But he did make a point to walk over to her and sit with her in the cafeteria. In front of everyone. And he did say she was pretty. Well, the exact words were,
“You’re too pretty to say something so blasphemous.”
He couldn’t know that she’d been mulling over those words since the moment he said them. And now he sat beside her in class when he never did that.

He was like the cat they used to have years ago that showed up one day, kept coming around for food but was never pushy about it, and before Clara knew it, the cat was sleeping with her in her bed. The image changed to Evan sleeping with her in her bed, and she jumped in her seat.

“Are you okay?” Evan whispered leaning over close to her.

She nodded, afraid to look at him. She was convinced her eyes would give away her secret thoughts.

Evan sat back in his seat and continued taking notes. He glanced at Clara from time to time, but she never once looked his way. He wondered what happened in her brain to make her jump like that. He hoped she realized that he liked her. How could she not figure that out by now? Still, he wanted to take things slowly with her. She seemed so scared and uncertain all the time. He wished he could take it out of her. Maybe if he kept talking to her like he was doing now and giving her space when he felt she needed it, she would eventually come around. He wanted into her life. He was dying to be invited.

When the bell rang, he wished her a good day and then left.

***

Lunch was much less frightening once Clara learned that Free or Reduced Lunch cards didn’t matter. No one paid any attention to her in line, and she began looking forward to the time when she could melt into the background of the large cafeteria, eat as much as she wanted, and read her books. She was not prepared for visitors today, but they came uninvited anyway, and they came with questions.

“Is your name Clara?” one of the girls asked. She was tall with strawberry blond hair. She looked nice enough.

“Yes,” Clara replied.

The three girls plopped down at Clara’s table and looked at her intently.

“Okay, I’m getting it,” another girl said. She had her dark hair styled in a crazy pixie cut, pieces shooting out in all directions.

Clara remained silent.

The third girl piped up, “Yeah, me too. Look at her hair.”

Clara instinctively touched her hair in an attempt to smooth the waves about her face.

“I’m Jen,” the strawberry blonde said. “And the pixie here is Katy. And that’s Meredith.”

“Hi,” Clara said.

“So we were trying to figure out what in God’s name you’ve done to Evan,” Meredith said. “But now we know. It’s your hair. I think he wants to sleep with it.”

The girls giggled. Clara just stared.

“Clara, stop looking so scared,” Jen snapped. “We’re not here to make fun of you or threaten you or anything.”

Clara relaxed her face and tried for a smile.

“Not all the girls in this school are total bitches,” Katy explained. “Like Brittany,” she added. “No one believes for a second that you’re going around giving guys blow jobs. She’s such a fucking bitch.”

Clara swallowed but said nothing.

“So are you his girlfriend?” Meredith asked. She leaned over the table staring at Clara with sparkling, mischievous eyes.

“No,” Clara responded.

“Ah, so he’s still fair game,” Jen said. She laughed as she observed Clara’s face fall. “I’m just kidding with you! I’ve got a boyfriend.”

Clara smiled meekly.

“Has he asked you out on a date yet?” Katy pressed.

“No.”

“Well, he will. He’s smitten with you probably because you’re all mysterious and everything. How come you never talk to anybody? You’re always sitting in here reading your stupid books. You need to socialize more, Clara. Get to know people,” Jen said. Her directness was unsettling.

“I prefer to be alone,” Clara confessed. She picked up her book hoping that the girls would take the hint and leave. They didn’t. In fact, Katy snatched the book from her hand and carelessly tossed it aside.

“Clara, do you know that you’re a really pretty girl?” Katy asked. “And you’ve got a really hot guy who likes you. Why are you being weird about it?”

“I know why she’s being weird about it,” Meredith offered. She bore her eyes into Clara’s. “She doesn’t think she’s good enough.”

“Oh, and here we go with this,” Jen said letting out a great big dramatic sigh. “Clara, do you see us hanging out with the popular girls?”

“No,” Clara said.

“Exactly,” Jen replied. “And do we care?”

Clara shrugged her shoulders.

“Of course we don’t care!” Katy said. “And even though we’re not popular like those cunts over there, do you think we can’t still have fun and look pretty and date cute boys?”

Clara stopped listening after the word “cunt.” All she could think was,
Did she really say “cunt”?

Jen snapped her fingers in front of Clara’s face. “Clara, listen to us!”

Clara shook her head and refocused. “I’m sorry.”

Meredith grabbed a cookie off of her tray. “You can’t be bothered by other people and what they say or think,” she said shoving the cookie in her mouth.

What is up with people taking food off of my tray and eating it?
Clara thought.

“Exactly,” Katy agreed. “You’re a rock star. And rock stars put bitches in their places. So go over there and tell Evan how you feel!”

“No!” Clara cried. A few students at the end of the table turned to look at her. She lowered her voice. “No. I can’t do that. I’m not like you all. I can’t go up to him. He makes me nervous.”

Jen and Katy grinned at each other.

“Oh, Clara,” Jen sighed. “We’ve got a lot to teach you about being a progressive woman.”

Clara stared wide-eyed at the girls as they giggled with glee. She felt the fluttering in her heart as the realization dawned that she was about to become a pet project.

Evan came to her at the end of the day. She had just closed her locker and was about to leave.

“Here’s your book,” he said handing it to her. “And may I just say, ‘Wow.’ I didn’t understand what I was reading, but I knew I was reading something important.”

Clara smiled.

“Will you explain that poem to me sometime?” Evan asked.

She thought she would die to, but perhaps he was just being nice. Did he honestly want to sit down and listen to her analysis of a poem?

“Sure,” she said, trying to sound like she understood that they would never talk about it.

“I mean it,” Evan said. “I want to understand it. I think it might help me understand you.”

Clara felt instantly shy and averted her eyes.

“Okay then,” Evan said. “I’ll be seeing you, Clara,” and he walked away.

Clara looked down at her book. She flipped through the pages but could not locate her bookmark.

He took it.

***

“Did you make any friends today?” Beatrice asked. She sat at the kitchen table helping Clara clip coupons.

“What? Are you my mother?” Clara replied.

“No, it’s the other way around,” Beatrice said grinning. Clara smirked.

The girls sat at the table in their underwear again that night since the house was hot. They cooked dinner with the wood stove because they had gone too many nights eating sandwiches. Clara knew they weren’t eating healthily and decided to heat vegetables to go along with canned chicken. They took ice cold baths after dinner—a temporary relief—but found themselves sweating all over again the moment they got out.

“I don’t know if I made friends today,” Clara admitted. “But I think I may have.”

Beatrice’s face lit up. “Oh do tell, Clara!” she squealed.

“Well, three girls approached me in the cafeteria today,” Clara began.

“Uh huh.”

“They asked me my name and told me I was pretty. They said I was a rock star and that rock stars put bitches in their places,” Clara said. Her brows furrowed in reflection.

Beatrice furrowed her own brows. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Me neither,” Clara admitted. “But they were nice to me. They told me I have a lot to learn. I think they want to teach me things, but I don’t know if I want to learn them.”

“They sound very worldly, Clara,” Beatrice said. “I don’t see that as being bad.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Clara asked amused.

“Not at all,” Beatrice replied. “Be their friend and let them teach you. I wish I had friends to teach me things. I’m always the one instructing others and it gets so terribly . . . monotonous.” She looked at Clara expectantly.

“Congratulations on learning a new word today, Bea,” Clara said.

Beatrice clapped her hands and giggled. “Isn’t it a beautiful word, Clara? Even though it means something boring? I just love saying it!”

Clara laughed, accidentally slicing through the bar code of one of her coupons.

“Darn it,” she said. “You think tape will be alright?”

“I don’t know,” Beatrice said. “I don’t know anything about coupons.”

Clara got up from the table and went in search of tape. She rifled through the kitchen drawers as Beatrice talked.

“Josey wants me to spend the night Friday night,” she said. “May I?”