“No, we’re not together, Clay. But I’m not with Jake either. We’re just friends. Not that I should have to tell you anything.” She sounded irritated but even still she reached out, placing her hand on my arm.
I tensed and thought about pulling away. But I was rendered motionless, too needy for her touch. “You’re right, it’s your life. Spend it with who you want,” I said, my words strangled in my throat. It was such a lie. I didn’t want her spending it with anyone but me. That scary part of me wanted me to claim her, force her to see that I was all she wanted because she was all I needed.
Maggie sighed and removed her hand, leaving me aching and alone. “God, Clay. Why can’t anything ever be simple between us? Jake’s a friend. And let me remind you, that it was you who ended us. Because I wouldn’t have done that. There is nothing in this world that would have made me leave you.” Maggie got out of my car and shut the door. Without a backward glance she went into her house.
I slammed my palms down onto the steering wheel several times and let out a deep, guttural scream. I threw the car into drive and got the hell out of there. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t focus. I just wanted to go somewhere. Find something to take it all away. This was too f**king much. I couldn’t deal with the pain that fizzled in my gut. I needed for it to disappear.
I got on the interstate and drove. And drove. And drove. With no purpose other than putting distance between me and the girl who was ripping my insides out. After an hour, I pulled into a rest stop to try to figure out what the hell I was going to do.
I got out of my car, grabbed the glass juice bottle that had been left in my center console and headed toward some picnic tables in the middle of a grove of trees. I smashed the bottle on the ground and picked up the largest shard of glass and held it tightly in my fist.
It bit into my skin but not enough to draw blood. If I squeezed just a little harder it would cut me. Just a bit more and this buzzing in my head would go away. I wanted the quiet. For a little while at least.
“Fuck,” I breathed out and dropped the glass onto the grass. And then I lost it. I dropped my head into the cover of my arms and cried. I hated myself for almost giving into the self-destructive craving. I hated that I couldn’t be stronger. And I really hated that in that moment, the life I wanted so desperately seemed miserably out of reach.
Chapter Sixteen
-Maggie-
To say things have been…intense since Clay has shown back up in my life, would be a vast understatement. The truth was I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel or act. Or what the hell I was supposed to say to him when he looked at me like I held the answers to the most important questions.
Last Friday had been completely surreal. It was like the past and the present had gotten all mixed up and I was somehow transported back in time. It had been too easy, too natural, to fall back into that place in my life where Clay fit.
And it was just as easy to remember why he could so easily tear me apart. I could tell that he was trying to change. I could practically see the struggle in him to show me that see I’m different. And in some ways he was.
Gone was the paranoid, hypersensitive recluse. Since returning to school, he seemed to make it a point to talk to people. He didn’t skirt the edges of the hallway, hoping no one would notice him. He walked straight down the middle with his head held high. And I felt my heart swell in my chest each and every time I saw him because I was so proud of him.
He seemed to be doing his best to ignore the insatiable gossip that still swirled around him. More power to him, because that was something I had yet to master.
Rachel told me he had started working at Bubbles. The fact he was working at a place where he would be forced to interact with people on a regular basis absolutely floored me.
He was trying to paint a new picture of himself, that was clear. But it didn’t change what I had glimpsed when he dropped me off at my house last week. The anger and jealousy when he realized it was Jake on the phone. The way he had instantly shut me out. I had seen the wall come down. And I had been devastated and disappointed. Because I had hoped we were past that particular ugliness. But apparently not. Because that other Clay was still there. At least when he was around me. And that Clay still scared the hell out of me. And I wasn’t sure if this new and improved Clayton Reed would ever be able to eradicate him.
There were times during the week when I would see him in the hallway or in the cafeteria and our eyes would meet and I could believe that we would find our way back to each other. That no matter what, Clay and I belonged together.
But then he would look away, move on, and I just knew he was avoiding me. Because he had made no effort to talk to me since being at Ruby’s shop. And, for the first time in my entire life, I didn’t do what was in my nature. Barge in, demand an explanation. Take control of things until I was satisfied with the result. It was as though I were waiting for a sign that read safe to proceed.
But so far, I was looking for something that remained hidden.
And Jake. Well, I felt like a real bitch for the way I had treated him. He had been such a good friend, even if I knew he had been biding his time, waiting for me to realize he was the guy I wanted to be with.
And for one whole moment, I thought that yeah, maybe I could move on and be with someone else. And why couldn’t that someone be Jake Fitzsimmons?
But then Clay had blown back into my world and I realized I was deluding myself. Because I couldn’t stomach the thought of sharing my life with anyone else.
“Why don’t we order a pizza and catch up on CSI. I won’t tell your mom that we watched TV during dinner,” my dad joked, dropping his keys down on the counter after coming in from work.
It was Thursday, Mom’s Bunco night. Dad and I had proclaimed it Pizza Thursday years ago and it was a routine we rarely deviated from. I looked up from my English homework and grinned as my dad started rooting through the junk drawer, trying to find the coupons for Papa John’s.
“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed. My dad opened the refrigerator to get a drink and pulled out a Pyrex dish covered in foil with a note attached to the top. My dad read it and let out an audible groan.
“What is it?” I asked, coming over to grab the note. It was from my mom. She was asking my dad to run the casserole over to Ruby. A knot suddenly formed in my stomach.
“Well, that was nice of her,” I said, peeking up at my dad hesitantly. His mouth was set in a firm line and he looked anything but pleased with my mother’s thoughtfulness.