Chapter 15
Clover bought her papers, the afternoon edition, and joined Skittery. He already had a stack of papers under one arm. "Hi," he said, somewhat shyly.
"Hello, Skittery," replied Clover.
"You wanna go now?"
"Sure," Clover answered slowly. What was wrong with Skittery? He hadn't sounded this nervous around her in awhile. A light clicked on in the back of Clover's head—that had to be it! She had been right earlier. Skittery wanted to tell her something that made him uncomfortable, hence the tense behavior. Clover was about to ask Skittery if there was anything he wanted to tell her when Skitter's voice interrupted.
"Um, Clover, there is somethin' I want ta ask you, but I think maybe it's better if we sell our papes first, so we're not distracted or anything, then talk."
"That sounds good," agreed Clover. The two split apart, resolving to meet each other at that very spot once they were finished selling.
***
Skittery shifted his weight from one leg to another while waiting for Clover. He was not standing there for long when Clover appeared. "You want to talk with me now?"
"Yeah," Skittery responded falteringly. Clover's heart softened—it looked like he was struggling with something, but she could not guess what. She wanted to assist him, but probing Skittery for details usually made him defensive and angry. Clover decided to try a different approach to relax him.
"Would you rather walk and talk, you know, to make everything more casual?" Skittery nodded,
"Yeah." They began strolling down the street. Eventually, Skittery forced himself to explain. "I just wanted ta—I know this is kinda stupid—but I just wanted ta know why you helped me. Get over my family's death and most of my pessimism and everything." Clover paused. She was going to have to handle this delicately. Her reasons for helping Skittery were pure, but if she was not careful he might think that she was just trying to get close to him.
"I don't like to see people in pain. I've been there before and can't stand to see others hurting. Maybe I came across as a little forceful, forceful for you to get better, but I knew that you wouldn't change unless someone really showed that they cared."
"Is that the only reason why you helped me?" prodded Skittery.
"It was. Still is. I couldn't stand to see you, see anyone, hurting the way you were. You needed someone to show you that they really cared." Skittery's palms began to sweat.
"You cared especially 'bout me?"
"Of course. You, anyone in such pain." Skittery's shoulders drooped. A dispirited air settled around his body, bewildering Clover. However, she managed to convince herself that she was imagining things.
"I see." Swiftly, Skittery changed subjects to the sudden drop in temperature.
***
Clover flopped onto her bunk and stared at the ceiling. "This is so frustrating!" she exclaimed. Becca rested her arms on Clover's bunk, chin on her wrists.
"If you won't let him know how you feel, then don't expect him to do anything." Clover rolled over to face Becca.
"Do you have to be at the hospital? It's not that I don't want you here, I just don't want to keep you from something more important and this might take awhile." Becca warmly smiled at the redheaded newsie, though Clover could see shadows of worry and weariness in the depths of Becca's eyes.
"Jack and Spot are over there now. I wanted to go too, but they told me to come back here for a few hours, just to wind down after the trip and everything. One of them will come and get me in an hour or two. But I don't remember that being the topic of discussion. What about Skittery? You sold with him this afternoon—what happened?" Clover absentmindedly wrapped a few curls around her finger,
"Nothing. I mean, well, I'm not sure. We sold apart, then met up when we were done. He asked me, very seriously, why I had helped him. I told the truth—because he needed help and I wanted to help him. The odd thing was, once I told him that, he seemed kind of, well, disappointed. Then he changed the subject to the weather, and we didn't talk about it again." Becca's forehead wrinkled,
"That's really weird. I'm completely stumped. If only I knew what Skittery is thinking." Clover extended a hand to shake with Becca,
"Welcome to the club."
***
Dutchy was doing his best to cheer up an extremely downcast Skittery. However, he wasn't too successful. "Skitts, ya can't expect her to know what yoah thinkin'. Shoah, girls seem ta have this sense thing, like they can always tell when yoah lying and stuff, but they can't read our minds." Skittery fidgeted in his seat on the coach in the Lodging House lobby, but stood firm.
"I asked her, and she said she didn't care about me 'specially or nothin'."
"What, exactly, did ya say ta her, and what was her exact answer?" Skittery grumbled, but complied.
"She was talkin' about how she helped me 'cause she couldn't stand ta see me hurting the way I was. I asked, 'you cared especially 'bout me?' and she said, me, anyone else in as much pain as I was. So ya see, she doesn't like me." Dutchy ran a hand through his hair. Skittery could be so frustrating sometimes, to a point where it was almost comical.
"No, that's where you're wrong. Ya still don't know if she likes ya oah not. One moah time, just so I got things straight, ya like her, right?"
"Yeah."
"And this afternoon ya asked her why she helped ya becausae you wanted ta try and find out if she likes ya back. You thought that one of the reasons why she helped ya might have been because she liked ya, but she didn't say anything 'bout liking ya."
"Exactly!" Skittery snapped. "And it's obvious that she doesn't—"
"No, it's not obvious," interrupted Dutchy. He sat down next to his best friend and rapped on Skittery's skull. "Ya need ta remembah that this is Clover. She'd help anyone that needs help, anyone. Her compassion has nothin' ta do with whether or not she likes someone. She could like ya, but that's not why she helped ya. D'ya get it?" Finally, Skittery understood. A small grin crept onto his face.
"Yeah, I think I do!" The grin disappeared. "But now what do I do?" Dutchy clapped Skittery's back.
"There's only one thing ta do, Skitts. Ya gotta tell her that ya like her." Skittery blanched, and his lips twisted, forming a sort of nervous line.
"Is that the only way?"
"That's the only way." Skittery sighed and ducked his head. Gradually, he lifted it, and managed to sputter out,
"Alright."