“For what?”
“She begs for help often. Everyone here is in the same situation. There’s no sense in begging when we’re all hungry.”
More guilt filters through me. I’m sure I’m not as hungry as anyone in this district, and it’s not fair.
“I brought you something, too,” I offer.
“Ella,” he says. “I don’t want the difference in our ration sizes to define?—”
“I didn’t mean?—”
“I—” he says. “I forget about the grim world around me when I see you. It’s as if you’re a clearing in a cloudy sky. All I want is to spend time with you, learn everything about you. You bring asmile to face and it’s no easy feat these days.” He huffs a laugh and drops his gaze to the ground while pushing my bike forward.
“Why do you think I’ve been coming back here since last week?” I ask.
Luka shrugs. “I’m not sure. I’m Jewish, have nothing to offer, and I’ve been told I try too hard to be funny.”
I can’t keep myself from laughing at what likely isn’t meant to be a joke. “I don’t care that you’re Jewish, and I’m not looking for an offer.”
“But I do try too hard to be funny?” he counters.
I sweep the fallen strands of hair from my loose braid behind my ear. “You make people smile, Luka. In times like these, it’s a rare thing to find in someone. It’s like—when the sun breaks through the clouds after a heavy storm, it’s a reminder we’re still here and still surviving. My heart races when you sing, and when you look at me, I forget how to take my next breath. I—I didn’t think it was possible to find a shred of joy in times like these. I’ve never taken risks or acted on impulse. But now that I have, I want more. Is that strange?”
Luka shakes his head. “Not at all. Though I worry about the trouble I could cause you.”
He’s said that a couple of times now and I’m questioning if I’m the one putting him in possible danger. Anyone who sees us walking together can tell he’s Jewish and I’m not, by the band around his arm.
“And what about the danger I’m putting you in? I don’t want to be the reason you get caught.”
“If trouble comes, it won’t be because of you. I’m one of the only men my age here who hasn’t been sent to forced labor and I’m still not sure why, but I assume sooner or later they’ll come for me.”
My heart sinks and my gaze falls, because I didn’t stop to think he could be sent away at any given moment.
I sigh. “But—right now, in this moment…the sun is in the sky, right? So, we shouldn’t think about what could happen tomorrow.”
He twists his head, pinches his lips tight and smiles. “Right.”
We come up to a small park surrounded with towering oak trees, full of lush greenery. He places my bicycle up against a wooden bench and gestures for me to sit down. “Will we be safe here? I don’t want to?—”
“The ground will vibrate from the marching soldiers before they come into view—as long as I’m not singing, that is.”
I lower myself onto the bench, smoothing the folds of my dress as he sits down beside me. He’s close enough that our shoulders nearly touch, making my heart flutter. It’s been so long since I’ve wanted to get to know someone. No one seems genuine anymore, or maybe it’s that I can’t figure out who is and who isn’t. We all want the same thing—our freedom back, but it won’t be easy or a fair battle, evenly fought by all. Of course, I could never compare my life to Luka’s, not with the way the Jews are being treated and tormented.
“I’ve been thinking…”
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” he says with a grin.
“Good. Because it likely won’t come out the right way…” I take a breath before continuing, watching Luka’s eyebrows furrow. “How can any of the Jewish people think much of us who aren’t Jewish? My parents say we’ll never be forgiven for not doing more. But when I ask what more we could do, no one has an answer.”
Luka twists his body toward me, crossing his ankles and resting his elbow on the back of the bench. The last of the sunlight filters through the trees and sparkles against his hazel eyes. “We—or my family and me, don’t think that way about anyone who isn’t Jewish. The Germans have made it clear of their hatred toward us and they’ve done nothing but instill fearinto everyone in Poland. Fear has a hold on all of us. It just looks different on some. These imposed laws are enforced with fear and punishment, but by giving in to them we’re complying with their demands inside of our homes. They can force us to behave in a certain way, but they can’t control the way we think.”
I twist in my seat to face him straight on and rest my hand on his. “It’s as if I’ve lost my way and you’re the only source of light ahead,” I utter.
“Then don’t,” he says without hesitation. “You’ve brought me happiness and I’m not willing to give that up because I’m notsupposedto feel that way.”
“Then don’t,” I repeat his words.
I lean into the spine of the bench and stare at Luka for a moment, taking him all in, his dimples, the faded freckles on his nose, the shimmer of auburn in his dark hair. He slides his arm across the bench, close to mine. My breath trembles on my lips as he twirls a strand of my hair around his finger before reaching in a little closer. A knot tightens in my stomach and my pulse stammers.
