Love in the Time of Cynicism

by Jani Berghuis

  A massive grin breaks over me and spreads past my face, if that makes any sense. I’m smiling everything, from my toes to my soul and anywhere in between because I’ve realized something fantastic. This gorgeous, unbelievable boy has decided to follow me, quite literally, off the edge of a cliff. That’s not the sort of thing you do for anybody.

  “Race you to the beach?” I call back and start swimming free-style as he agrees.

  As I glide through the water, a fish brushes my leg and I shriek. Damn girlish instincts. This folly allows Rhett to pass me with a pointed laugh and I curse myself. Game on. My heart rattling around my throat, I push hard and kick my legs fiercely, every ounce of strength going into passing my boyfriend on the way to the sandy river bank. Arms reaching farther than possible, I make my way forward and catch up with him at least. At the end of our race though, he overtakes me and runs onto the sand, pumping a fist in the air like a marathon winner. He continues to run until he’s near the tree line and waits for me with a stupid, lop-sided grin smacked across his lips.

  I walk out of the water when it gets shallow enough for me to stand in. The sand conforms and squishes around the shape of my foot. There’s a smile I can’t wipe off as I look at Rhett, my Rhett, reveling in swimming a few seconds faster than me. I’ve never minded losing to begin with, but seeing the amount of happiness clear in him makes the loss feel like a victory.

  While I’m sauntering slowly toward him, Rhett stops rejoicing in his victory and stops. He stares over me intently, this time letting his eyes trail over my body, until an expression I can’t quite read settles over his features, somewhere between contentment and tenderness. And then he’s running. His feet kick up sand and I pause in my step, confused. My eyes lock with his and something unnamed passes between us.

  When he reaches me, instead of ceasing to move, he only slows and throws his arms tightly around my waist. Laughter builds between us as he spins me around in his arms and plants a firm kiss on my lips. My heart’s racing now, but it isn’t from adrenaline.

  Giggling because Rhett starts to deposit kiss after kiss rapidly across my face, from my chin to my forehead, and he’s still holding me tight.

  I laugh and return one of his kisses, “What’s up with you right now? Feeling particularly affectionate?”

  “Better than that.” Rhett’s smile is brighter than I’ve ever seen – which is saying something, considering how often he beams in my direction – and his whole face seems engulfed by the power of that smile. “Cordelia Kane, I just realized I’m in love with you, and it feels fantastic.” He tilts his head back and shouts to anyone who’ll listen, “Hear that, world? I’m in love!”

  Instead of my stomach being in the knots I’d expected, a sudden sense of calm has overtaken me. Like everything’s right in the world as long as he’s hear and loving me. Like I never want him to stop telling me he loves me. Like nothing will ever be wrong.

  Rhett’s voice falls away and silence steps between us, no longer awkward but full of hope as he waits for my answer to this impossibly easy question. The words slip out earnestly and without thought.

  “Rhett Tressler, there are more than a million words in the English language and I could never string any of them together to explain how much I love you.”

  Chapter Fourteen – Choices Presented

  When I wake up the next morning, November 1st, my eyes pop open and a quick smile covers my face. In a motion almost habitual over the past twelve hours of restlessly joyful sleep, I touch my fingers slightly to my lips. They still seem warm, like the heat of Rhett saying I love you and kissing me over and over again had enough energy to last the night without him. And I guess it did, because my heart won’t stop soaring when I think of him, of his hand on my back as we finally said it out loud, once and for all. Frankly, I’m eternally impressed at how poetic I managed to be on the spot. Normally things that are sincere and romantic come out more like sarcastic insults because of, well, my personality.

  My room is so dark at six in the morning, yet it’s lit with something I would call internal light if that wouldn’t sound stupid. I can’t even wipe the damn smile off my face as I stand and hit the lamp on, which stings my eyes until I’m squinting in pain. The grin persists past dressing in my favorite pair of polka-dotted knee high socks (why not?), a black skirt, and a pink sweater because I’m feeling girly and adventurous. Rhett makes me believe in wearing a skirt to school despite the blatantly horrendous idea of actually wearing a skirt to school. He makes me want to be girly like the girls in so many romantic comedies who fall in love with the perfect jock and have some hardships but make it through at the end.

  That’s how much I love him after last night. I’d listen to every one of his shitty rock albums, watch his favorite movies a thousand times on end, if only to be with him. It’s crazy, I know, but until I met him, I didn’t understand love. I figured it was something people made up and spent their entire lives convincing every else that they were in love.

  Now it seems…magical, almost. Anything could happen.

  And the smile hasn’t left by the time I’m downstairs for breakfast. Mom’s in the kitchen waiting for me with a sour expression glued on her flawlessly-made up face. I try to stomach the happiness a moment as I open the fridge, pull out a cup of yogurt and leftover pancakes in a freezer bag, and prepare my breakfast as quickly as possible. I don’t want to be in here when she tells me what’s behind the irked look. Unfortunately for me, my timing has always been less than impeccable.

  “Del, why were you home so late last night?”

  I go with the usual plan of avoidance and shrug neutrally. The pancakes go in the toaster (they cook better there, trust me) and the yogurt is popped open during my utterly evasive answer. “I was out.”

  “Where?” As I take another slurp of yogurt, mom suddenly whips the cup out of my hand and sets it on the counter. “You’re seventeen and you have a curfew.”

  I laugh, so buzzed on Rhett that not even my mother’s aggravation can get to me, “Since when?”

  She splutters, “Since you started staying out late enough to warrant one.”

  “Mom,” I groan, “you’re killing my mood. I was safe and among friends.”

  “Friends?” Crap, I curse myself, shouldn’t have used the plural. “Like who?”

  “You know…Sky. The usual crew.”

  “Except Skylar called the house last night looking for you.”

  “Why didn’t she call my phone?”

  Mom rolls her eyes and stares at me like she’s unexpectedly interested in parenting me now that I’m nearly an adult. “Her message said she figured you were here, with Rhett. Her tone of voice was exceedingly suggestive.”

  “Well, I mean-” I swallow and think of an excuse as my pancakes pop out of the toaster and I have a scorching bite. Not that Rhett and I were doing anything wrong, but it’s been clear that she doesn’t like me alone with him, especially late at night. “You know Sky, mom.”

  “Not as well as I thought, apparently,” she snaps. “Talk to me honestly for a minute, Del. Were you and that boy-” She chokes on her words and my jaw drops.

  “No! Oh my god how could you even ask if-”

  Mom silences me with a sharp look. “I just want you to be safe. You’re almost an adult and I can’t tell you what to do, but keep in mind that I was pregnant with your brother at barely eighteen and look how well that turned-”

  “Mom!” I protest, my voice shrieking high, “Are you seriously trying to give me the sex talk right now? I go to public school,” I stress. “I know enough to last a life time, I swear.”

  “Just,” she sighs heavily, “make good choices. Don’t let some boy ruin your life plans.”

  Anger flickers in my chest. What a shame, considering my previously good mood. “My what?”

  “Dear, we both know the life plan,” she replies as if what I’m supposed to do with my life should have anything to do with her plan. “Going to Baylor, where your dad wen
t, and getting a good degree before finding a husband and a job. Starting a family of you own.” These statements are said like questions as if she cares what my answer is.

  “Mom,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm and clear as I admit these thoughts for the first time, “that isn’t my plan. This is my life and you can’t choose how I live it, alright? I don’t want to go to school anywhere within a thousand miles of here and maybe not at all. I want to move somewhere that has real seasons and where the winter is cold enough for a coat. I want to read and to write and to find myself somewhere I know others are going to accept me. But, first, I need you to accept me.” She’s shocked by this, to say the least. Before she can speak, the sound of Rhett’s bike outside breaks through our conversation. “I’ve got to go, mom.” I kiss her on the cheek. “I’ll be back before five, I promise.”

  “Maybe we can spend some time this evening and…” It’s clear she’s making an attempt at being supportive, which is nice. “Talk things over. You and me and Michael.”

  “Sounds like more fun than should be allowed,” I reply, heavier on the sarcasm than normal. It’s one of those days. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Her face relaxes and she says, “Have a good day. Work hard.” As I’m walking toward the door, she calls after me, “And you should eat a healthier breakfast! Try an apple next time!”

  Accidental derision slipping out, I shout over my shoulder, “Well, one time Adam and Eve ate an apple and screwed over the entire human race, so I’d better not risk it.”

  Then the door shuts behind me and Rhett grins over at me. He stands up to meet me as I get closer.

  Everything feels different and altogether right between us as I grin silently and kiss him.

  When I pull back, he laughs and says, “Good morning, my love. How was your night?”

  “Lonely.” His arms are still around me and I settle briefly against his collarbone, not wanting to go to school and be separate again.

  “I could easily fix that,” he flirts effortlessly and my stomach turns in the best way possible.

  “If you’re lucky,” I reply with a quick kiss to his lips. “Ready to go?”

  “Not quite yet,” he whispers. Then his hands are at my waist and he’s kissing me deeply like he can’t get enough. That’s one thing I can’t help but fund shocking about our relationship; I’ve never considered myself dateable, much less kissable. But Rhett kisses me and he means it.

  When he gradually draws away, I find myself wishing he wouldn’t. Sadly, it’s a Thursday and there’s another wondrous day of dream-crushing ahead of us.

  Once Rhett and I are outside of my first period class and the late bell has already rung, he dips down and kisses my forehead. Voice deep and rumbling low, he breathes in my ear incredibly intimately, “I already miss you, my love.”

  I stumble inside the classroom, stuck deep in a haze of love like some dumb puppy. My rational mind sees how illogical I’m being, but everything else is screaming oh my god he’s so perfect and I can’t believe he loves me and how did I ever end up so lucky until the logical part shuts up.

  The delightful fog is broken when I’m half way through my fifth period study hall and Sky crashes into the chair next to me excitedly. She isn’t exactly enrolled in any of my classes, but on block scheduling days we happen to have study halls at the same time (and, sadly, I don’t have anthropology until the very end of the day) and she has no qualms about skipping hers. I sent her a quick text update before bed last night, then turned my phone off only to wake up to fourteen missed texts. God, you’d think she’s the one I’m dating.

  “Tell me,” she pauses for effect, “everything. Every juicy detail.”

  “It isn’t terribly juicy,” I admit. “He took me to this corn maze and I was super confused. Then we were on this amazing cliff over the river and there were shooting stars falling around him and-”

  “That sounds so perfect.” She closes her eyes and pictures it, then pops them open to their usual saucer size and squeals, “Oh my god, Del!” I roll my eyes. Even after I explained how I prefer using my full name now, she’s persisted with the nickname simply to annoy me. With Sky, though, it’s almost endearing. Almost. Sky’s face turns serious as the volume in the busy room is quickly cranked up once roll is taken. “Will you tell me something truthfully?”

  “Sure.” I shrug and dislodge my pre calc binder from my rucksack.

  “Did you guys seal the deal last night?” Sky starts on some genetics homework but continues to speak casually, “By the river, under the stars? Ugh, so romantic!”

  I groan, “Why does everyone think we’ve done it?”

  “Don’t be such a child,” she chides as if she didn’t call me at four in the morning last year to weigh the pros and cons of a salmon prom dress versus a peach one. “It’s obvious.”

  “Humor me for half a second, Sky. Pretend I’m the biggest idiot you’ve ever known.”

  “Not pretending.”

  “Hate you.”

  “Right back at you, slut.” She taps her pencil against her notebook and replies in a reverent, hushed tone, “Rhett, no matter how flawless his skin or how pretty his eyes, is a boy. And you’re a girl. And you’re teenagers. And you’re in love. And this is the twenty-first century. Sex shouldn’t exactly be a rarity between you two.” My best friend muses on as my eyes enter a perpetual state of roll. “What I’m worried about is why it’s taken so long. The guy’s gorgeous; you’re no hideous-”

  “Shut up!”

  “You love me, be quiet.” Her eyes flit to mine as she cogitates aloud, “Maybe there’s something wrong with him? Like, what if he’s got an erectile dysfunction or something? What if he’s gay?”

  “I seriously doubt my boyfriend is gay.”

  She looks of forlornly. “It can happen.”

  “Just because Kyle Wilcox turned out to be gay three years after you dated doesn’t mean Rhett’s going to be flying the rainbow flag any time soon.”

  “Then what about the erectile dysfunction thing?” She reasons, “If you haven’t seen it yet, you can’t know if he’ll be able to get it going when you-”

  “Sky!” I interrupt her immediately as several of the boys around us turn to look. “He’s seventeen. I’m confident there’s nothing wrong with-”

  “Doctor Love’s stethoscope?”

  “Oh my god, Sky!” From head to toe, I’m flaming blush red because every boy in the room is tuned to our conversation. “You have a problem. You should seek help.”

  Leeringly, she quiets her voice and says, “Maybe I should see a doctor. Clearly, it’s working for you.”

  “I could punch you.”

  “Seriously, though, what’s wrong with you? That boy’s hot as hell and you aren’t doing anything about it. Why not?” She slaps the desk, “Dammit, Del, just grab him and give him what you’ve got!”

  I drop my head to the desk and die of embarrassment. This is the end of my story. My funeral will be next Friday. Please come out and support the family.

  She’s not letting up any time soon, so I mumble into my elbow, “I don’t want to force it, Sky. I want everything to make sense and whatever happens, happens.”

  “Well if you need any tips or tricks on how to hand his nuts and bolts before you have to screw ‘em in,” she says as the bell rings, “come see the master carpenter and I can help you out.”

  Jesus, I think as I’m walking out of the room, how did she end up as my best friend?

  A few moments later, Rhett’s arm is around me and I tilt my head up to face him. There’s no way I’ll ever get used to being with someone four inches taller, enough that I’m constantly looking up to him but not enough that I feel dwarfed.

  His lips fall right above my ear as he asks, “Want to get out of here?”

  I grimace. “I’d love to, but it’s my lunch period and I have a ton of college stuff to fill out. I also swore to Sky last night to explain in precise, scientific detail exactly what happ
ened on our date last night.”

  “Lucky for you, there’s now an excuse not to do either of those things.”

  “Oh?”

  He beams like he’s got a brilliant secret too funny for the rest of us to hear. “Cafeteria’s closed.”

  This is news to me. We stop walking and I tug slightly away from him until only our fingers are intertwined. “Would you like to say more about that?”

  His smile widens and he laughs out, “Some idiotic Freshman put his a shoe through one of the windows this morning trying to kill a bee. Nobody’s allowed back until administration has the glass and legal matters cleared. Tomorrow at the earliest.”

  “Outstanding,” I reply with a smile. “Where were you thinking for our forty five minute escape?”

  “Personally, I love the idea of Lord of the Fries Diner on fifth street-” which is this chain place that only exists in Texas and Australia “-if only to appreciate the value of its name.”

  “Done. It’s not terribly exciting, though.” My phone vibrated repeatedly in my pocket and I cut an apologetic glance to Rhett as I check it. Sky. Shoot. I actually thought I might get away for a second to be alone with my boyfriend. Nonetheless, out of best friend obligation I put the phone to my ear. “What’s going on?”

  Her voice is shrill with the excitement of fresh gossip. “Did you hear the Calvin Hartman punched through a window in the caf during some huge brawl? Nobody’s even allowed in there because of all the blood!” Strange how rumors spread. She clams down and says, “Anyway. What’s our new lunch plan?”

  Rhett looks at me sympathetically because he’s gotten used to Sky and her tendencies during our courtship. “Listen, Rhett asked me to go to Lord of the Fries with him and-”

  “Fantastic!” I can nearly see her scampering toward the door in my mind’s eye. “Meet you two lovebirds there in five!”