Clara ignored Evan when he sat down beside her in health class the next day. He looked her over and decided how best to start the conversation. He knew he had a right to be angry about her reaction to his sexual history, but he wished now that he didn’t allow her to bait him into an argument. He was bothered that he felt nothing remotely close to remorse for anything he said to her. Not even the comment about her tasting better than any other girls he’d been with.
He realized he was grinning and stopped. It was the truth—that comment—but he had no business voicing it. He knew he messed up. He knew he needed to apologize. He also knew that deep in his heart the apology would be disingenuous. All of her anger stemmed from the fact that she felt frustrated and inexperienced around him. He knew it and tried to be understanding. But there was no way she was going to make him feel guilty for his sexual past. She could be as pious and chaste as she wanted. He’d fix that.
“Clara?” he asked tentatively.
“Hmm?” she replied affecting distraction, holding her latest novel up to her face.
“Will you put your book down?” he asked.
She placed it on the desk and looked at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have made that comment.”
“Which one?” she asked.
Evan took a deep breath. “The first one,” he replied. “We’ll start with that. I’m sorry for making a comment that sounded like I was comparing you to other girls. I didn’t mean for it to come across that way. I wasn’t even thinking about those other girls when I said it. I was thinking about how happy I was to make you feel so good.”
Clara tried hard to make her expression inscrutable, but she blushed in spite of her efforts. Evan saw and took it as a hopeful sign.
“I really was only thinking about you.”
“And what about that other comment?” she asked.
Evan couldn’t help but grin. “What comment?” he replied. He knew precisely what she was referring to.
Clara narrowed her eyes. “You know.”
“I really don’t,” Evan lied. He just wanted to hear her say it.
Clara lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. “The one where you said I tasted better than those other girls. You were making a comparison then.”
Evan’s grin widened. “You’re not mad about that comment one bit,” he replied. “You’re flattered.”
Clara snorted.
“And I did want to piss you off by saying that, though I knew you’d secretly like it,” he went on.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
Evan leaned in close. “Because it is the truth. You do. And if you’d stop being unfair to me by punishing me for being with other girls, then maybe I’d show you again how much you like that comment.”
She felt it instantly, the heat surging in between her legs. How did he make her want to scream at him and scream for him at the same time? She tried to ignore her sexual reaction. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not working,” Clara said. The deep flush in her cheeks told otherwise.
“Clara, you are so pretty. And you know I adore you. So can you just get over yourself already?” Evan asked.
He waited for her to say something. She was thinking, her face screwed up in concentration, and he wondered if she was deciding to let it all go or wondering how much longer she needed to punish him.
“Do you like me for me?” she asked finally. She did not look him in the eyes when she said it.
He wasn’t expecting that. “Yes.”
She looked at him then. Her eyes told him that she believed him. “Okay.”
They held each other’s gaze for a few moments before Clara spoke again.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” she said. “I feel really badly about it. I just feel weird sometimes with you knowing a lot of stuff that I don’t. I know this’ll sound stupid, but it makes me feel like you have the upper hand all the time.”
Evan thought for a moment. “I don’t know what to say to that,” he admitted.
Clara flipped through the pages of her notebook. “Just please don’t compare me to those other girls. In your brain. I don’t want you comparing me. And don’t take advantage of me. You know I don’t know what I’m doing. I probably suck at all of it.”
Evan burst out laughing.
Clara looked up sharply. “That’s funny?”
“I’m sorry, but you said ‘suck,’ and I’m immature,” he replied chuckling.
Clara blushed at her poor choice of words. And then she giggled. Evan was so grateful for it and demanded she lean over towards him. She did, and he planted a kiss on her lips.
“I will never compare you to anyone, okay?” he said. “And I will never take advantage of you. Do you trust me?”
Clara nodded. She smiled and he sighed relief.
“Now the question is, what are you doing this weekend?” he asked lightly.
Clara’s smile faded.
“Going to a funeral,” she whispered.
***
Clara, Evan, and Beatrice walked to the gravesite, Evan in between the sisters and holding their hands. Beatrice wept uncontrollably. Clara had only seen her cry that hard when their mother left, the night they made the joke about her going to the store.
Clara didn’t realize how affected she would be seeing all of the flowers in the church, the pictures of Ms. Debbie displayed on stage. There were so many people there, church members who were deeply grieved by her passing. They looked frightened and empty, and Clara knew why. Ms. Debbie took care of them, and now she was gone. Who would take care of them now? Who would take care of her now? The intensity of Clara’s grief multiplied. Not grief that elicits tears. No, the shocked, numb grief of low, humming fear.