“Clay, you need your meds.” I whispered, trying to hide how appalled I was at his lack of responsibility and maturity. Clay's face darkened. “Don't start with me, Maggie. I told you, I'm fine.” He brushed past me into the room.
I had to figure something out. But I wasn't sure how I could convince Clay to go back home. He was certain that being away from Davidson and his parents would make everything okay. He was so, so wrong.
“I'm scared for you.” I said, watching him as he pulled a new shirt out of his bag and put it on. Clay's shoulders tensed. “Well, don't be. You're over thinking things again.” He said flippantly. I wanted to be angry with him for putting us in this position. For doing this to himself. But I caught a glimpse at the healing cuts on his chest and arms as he pulled his shirt over his head and I just felt sad. I wanted him to be happy and healthy. Maybe I could just give him the few days he asked for. And then convince him to go home. He would listen to me, right? I mean, he loved me.
I went up behind him and put my arms around his chest and buried my face into his back, breathing in his amazing smell. “I love you. You know that?” I stated. Clay turned in my arms and held me. “Of course I know that, Mags. I love you too.” I reached up on my tip toes and locked my mouth to his. The taste of him causing the same butterflies in my stomach it always did.
Clay broke the kiss and grinned at me. “Let's get out of this depressing room. I want to take you out to dinner. A proper date.” I laughed at the giddiness in his voice. “A date, huh?” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Yeah. Let's go paint the town red, baby.” He pulled on my hand, tugging me toward the door. Clay tucked his wallet in his pocket and pulled out his car keys. I let him lead me outside.
Soon we were making our way through the tiny town of Glass Lake. There wasn't a whole lot to it. But there was a restaurant on the north end of town called Elk's Ridge Bar and Grill. Funny name, considering there were no elk in North Carolina.
I ordered a steak and potatoes and he got the chicken alfredo. We ate until we were completely stuffed. We laughed and talked. I loved being with him like this. This was the Clay I loved more than anything.
As I waited at the table for Clay to come back from the bathroom, my cell phone made a ding in my pocket. I was hesitant to check it. I didn't want anything to ruin the great evening I was having. But curiosity won out.
Looking in the direction of the bathrooms to watch for Clay, I quickly got out my phone. There was a text waiting from Rachel. You guys are in some serious shit. Did Clay tell you what went down when he left his house last night?
Feeling immediately edgy, I quickly typed out What do you mean? I tapped my foot in impatience as I waited for the responding message. Two minutes later the phone dinged again. Looking at what my friend wrote, I thought I would be sick.
Well, apparently he threatened his parents with a knife. Destroyed stuff, stole a bunch of money from his dad's wallet and took off. The police are looking for you guys. His parents are threatening to press charges against him. You really need to come home. Otherwise it'll just get worse.
Why didn't Clay tell me about what happened? Again, he was keeping secrets from me! The one person he swore he'd be honest with! I shoved the phone back in my pocket and plastered a smile on my face as Clay came back to the table.
“Ready?” He asked. I nodded, not trusting my voice. Clay put some cash on the table- (his parent's money, I was sure-) and held out his hand for me to take. I wrapped my fingers with his and let him pull me to my feet. He hugged me and kissed my nose. “Thank you for being my date.” He said with a grin.
I couldn't help but smile back, despite what I had just learned. “Thank you for asking me to be your date.” I replied, squeezing his waist. We walked out of the restaurant, our arms wrapped around each other.
Out in the cold, night air, I felt unsure. I needed to talk to Clay about what I had just learned. But how do I broach the subject? His parents were a sore spot, to say the least, and I knew it would just lead to an argument.
But I had to know why he kept it a secret. Why he didn't tell me the truth when he came to my room last night. Though part of me wanted nothing more than to pretend it was all a mistake. That what Rachel had told me couldn't possibly be true.
We walked down the street a ways and found a small park. We found ourselves at a tiny bench situated in a shaded grove of trees. The air was crisp and chill and I wrapped my jacket tighter around me. Clay put his arm around my shoulders and held me tight against his side. He kissed the top of my head and I tried to relax into him.
I didn't fool Clay for a second. He knew me too well. “What's wrong, baby?” He asked me softly, curling my hair around his finger. I pulled back a bit so that I could look at him. “I got a text from Rachel while you were in the bathroom.” I started. Clay frowned. “Okay. Did she say something to upset you?” He asked, rubbing his thumb across my bottom lip.
I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the burn of desire that ignited at his touch. “Well, she told me the police are looking for us.” Clay stiffened, his thumb stopping its slow caress across my skin. “Well, I kind of expected that.” He admitted, dropping his hand into his lap.
“Well, they're after us because of what happened. You know. At your house.” I looked at him pointedly and I watched his face grow cold. “At my house.” He stated. I nodded. I felt myself getting angry with him. “Is there something you need to tell me? About what went down with your parents?” I prompted, scooting back, putting distance between us.
Clay gave an angry sigh and got to his feet. He started pacing. “I told you everything.” He insisted harshly. I jumped to my feet and grabbed a hold of his arm. I wrenched him around to look at me. “No you didn't! You sure as hell didn't tell me that you pulled a knife! On your parents! Are you f**king crazy?” I shrieked at him.
Okay, bad choice of words. Clay pulled my hand off of his arm. “Yes, Maggie! I am FUCKING CRAZY! Everyone thinks it, so it must be true!” He yelled back at me. I blanched at his words and started backing away from him. His face dropped and he raked his fingers through his hair in agitation. “I want to go home, Clay. This is all so messed up! We can't do this!” I implored, collapsing on the park bench covering my face with my hands.
Clay came and sat down beside me and pulled my hands down. He held them tightly in his and looked at me with the most desolate expression I had ever seen. “I can't go home. Not now. I know I screwed up. I let things get out of control. But they weren't listening to me! They NEVER listen to me! Because none this was ever about me. It was all about my parents and how much of an embarrassment I am.” His voice cracked.