Free Honeysuckle Love by S. Walden Page B

she had more than enough to keep herself busy without adding clubs and after-school activities to the list.
    “Like what?” Florence would undoubtedly ask.
    “Oh, I don’t know. Things like being a stand-in mother and breadwinner for my sister since my mom ran away. Things like that,” Clara would respond. And then she could see Florence’s eyes go as big and as round as saucers.
    “Why should popular kids get to do everything?” she heard Florence ask.
    “Because they’re popular,” Clara replied. “And they’re not joining book clubs, I can tell you that.”
    Florence grunted and shrugged. She picked up her pencil again and started to work.
    “Why did Evan go up and talk to you in the cafeteria?” she asked suddenly.
    Clara stiffened. “I don’t know.”
    Florence smiled a wicked smile. “I think he likes you, Clara,” she said quietly.
    “I don’t think that’s true at all,” Clara replied. She did not want to discuss Evan with Florence. She wasn’t sure why Florence was even talking to her about it.
    “Well, cool guys don’t just randomly go up to nerds and start talking to them unless they like them,” Florence continued.
    Clara bristled. She didn’t like being referred to as a nerd.
    “Do you think he’s going to ask you out?” Florence asked.
    “No,” Clara replied, then asked the teacher if she could be excused to the bathroom.
    Clara stood in front of the bathroom mirror assessing herself. She thought about Florence’s words, how “cool guys don’t just go up to nerds and start talking to them.” She wondered if perhaps she was a nerd. She preferred to have no label at all, but that was hard in high school. Everyone was grouped somehow, some way. She might just be a nerd, and it angered her.
    She looked at her eyes. She saw her mother staring back at her. The same hazel color with long, thick eyelashes. Nothing else about her physical appearance was like her mother. She was shorter than her mother, standing at five feet five inches. Clara didn’t know where she inherited her dark, wavy hair. Her mother’s was blond and straight. Her dad’s hair was blond. My God, did she have an affair? Clara thought suddenly. It would make sense. The more she stared at herself in the mirror, the less she saw in common with her sister, mother, and father.
    She thought she could stand in front of that mirror all afternoon thinking about her mother, all of the ways she was like her and all of the ways she wasn’t. All of the possible reasons why her mother left and if she would ever come back. She wondered if her mother truly understood what she did, leaving Clara with all of that debt. Did she assume the girls would be turned over to the state, and why would she let something like that happen? Why would she think that was a better alternative? Clara couldn’t allow herself to believe that her mother didn’t care about them. But then why did she leave, leave without an I love you or I’ll be back soon ?
    She heard the bathroom doors open and turned on the faucet to wash her hands. She stared at the running water as she listened to the chatter of two girls standing at the far sink.
    “It’s not that big of a deal,” one girl said. Clara thought she recognized the voice.
    “I don’t know. It seems kind of gross,” another replied.
    “Well, how do you expect him to do it to you if you won’t do it to him?”
    “But isn’t it different for them. I mean, they like it, don’t they?”
    Clara thought it was time to dry her hands and leave.
    “Of course they do,” the first girl explained. “And no, most girls don’t like it. But they do it because that’s part of the deal. God, you’re so naïve.” She huffed and looked over at Clara. “Maybe you could tell us about it,” she said nastily, looking at Clara throw her paper towel in the trash.
    Clara looked up and met Brittany’s eyes. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said heading for the door.
    “Blow jobs. Do you like