Light in the Shadows
Page 12
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I cleared my throat. I had to tell her something, anything to stop her from getting too carried away. There was no way in hell I would ever be able to reciprocate her feelings. Not that she wasn't a great girl. But my heart wasn't mine to give away. It had been taken months ago and I didn't see myself getting it back anytime soon.
“Maria,” I started to say, moving away slightly so that her hand dropped from my skin. Her smile flickered and died. “You know I think you're awesome, right?” I said lamely. I couldn't launch into it's not you it's me. There was something fundamentally dickish about that.
Maria laughed without humor and gulped down her tea. “Yes, I'm awesome. And you really like my friendship right?” she asked with a surprising amount of bitterness. Christ, had I led this girl on more than I thought?
“Seriously, Maria. I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea...” and then she cut me off again.
She gave me a strained smile. “Nope, no wrong idea here Clay. I've seen the picture by your bed. I know the score. We're friends. Sorry if I made you feel like I wanted something else. Not my intention, I swear.” She held up three fingers in the Girl Scout promise thing.
Damn it, this had the makings of epic awkwardness all over it. Maria Cruz was easily my closest friend here. And at this point in my life, friendship was in short supply.
I jammed my hands into my pockets. “Look, you're my friend. A damn good one at that. Have I f**ked this up in some way?” I asked, trying not to grit my teeth together in frustration. I was sick of miscommunication and mixed signals. Couldn't I have one, uncomplicated relationship?
Maria must have sensed I was not able to deal with any sort of drama, because she backed off quickly. Her eyes dropped shyly and she started to chew on her bottom lip. “Sorry, Clay. I guess you're not the only one that's had a shitty day,” she explained, tucking a piece of dark hair behind her ear.
She reminded me so much of Maggie just then. Down to the dark hair and total discomfort. It made my heart squeeze tightly in my chest and I just wanted to fix this tiny problem. I wasn't in a position to fix the greater messes I'd created, but this small thing, I could do something about.
I leaned down and bumped my shoulder with hers. “Hey, we're cool. We'll always be cool,” I assured her. Her pretty green eyes blinked a few times, and then softened. Though she didn't touch me as she normally would. No hugs or arm taps. I was fine with that, but I felt a little bad that she felt she couldn't do it.
“Thanks, Clay. After group, let's watch some TV. I bet there's a daytime soap calling my name,” she teased. I made a show of groaning.
“Really? Come on don't subject my manhood to such an overwhelming display of estrogen. I know you want to watch something macho like American Chopper or LA Ink,” I joked.
Maria shook her head and I was able to fall into that small semblance of normalcy I had been able to create for myself.
Chapter Four
-Maggie-
“Why did you bail so early on Saturday?” Daniel asked me after he joined Rachel and me at the lunch table on Monday. I was making pretty little patterns in my mashed potatoes and not really in the mood to explain why I had freaked out and needed to be alone. I was sure that my behavior on Saturday wasn’t a surprise to my friends. But it didn’t stop me from feeling bad for not being able to pick up the pieces and become the “old Maggie” like they wanted me to.
I was trying really hard though. After my light bulb moment at work, I was more determined than ever to stop hiding in my room and to embrace my life. Moping around and writing really bad poetry (which NO ONE would ever see) wasn’t my idea of a good time. So I had gotten dressed. I even made myself a bit more girlie than usual. I amped myself up to engage in some good ol’ teenage shenanigans.
I had gotten in my Corolla, which was still kicking by the way, and headed over to Ray’s. I knew I was in trouble once I had gotten there. There were a lot more cars than I had anticipated. I thought it was going to be a small get together. But there were easily twenty cars lining the driveway. Once I got to the front door, my suspicions were confirmed.
It was a full blown party.
I really wished Jake had told me that Ray’s parents were out of town. Then I sure as hell wouldn’t have bothered to show up.
I used to love to party. I used to love hanging out with my friends and getting loaded. But that was “PC.” Pre-Clay. Back in the days when I wasn’t hyper sensitive to the whispers and looks. The first few weeks after I had returned from my dramatic stint as a teenage runaway had been brutal. I had been miserable and depressed. Trying to go on with my life after losing Clay had been daunting, to say the least. And it was made infinitely worse by the rumors and the whispers and the blatant stares I received once I had returned to school.
I tried my damndest to seem unaffected by it. No one had to know that every mention of his name made me die a little bit more. I wore a fake smile while I tried to become that other Maggie again. The one who would never run head first off of an angsty cliff of teenage drama.
Sure the level of gossiping had subsided a bit, but it was still there. And I knew people still looked at me as “the girl whose boyfriend had tried to off himself.”
So I had purposefully avoided social functions as much as possible. Sure, I was moving on into my Post-Clay existence. But it was slow going. And approaching that front door, I knew, deep down that the party was a bad idea. But I had forced myself to suck it up.
“Maria,” I started to say, moving away slightly so that her hand dropped from my skin. Her smile flickered and died. “You know I think you're awesome, right?” I said lamely. I couldn't launch into it's not you it's me. There was something fundamentally dickish about that.
Maria laughed without humor and gulped down her tea. “Yes, I'm awesome. And you really like my friendship right?” she asked with a surprising amount of bitterness. Christ, had I led this girl on more than I thought?
“Seriously, Maria. I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea...” and then she cut me off again.
She gave me a strained smile. “Nope, no wrong idea here Clay. I've seen the picture by your bed. I know the score. We're friends. Sorry if I made you feel like I wanted something else. Not my intention, I swear.” She held up three fingers in the Girl Scout promise thing.
Damn it, this had the makings of epic awkwardness all over it. Maria Cruz was easily my closest friend here. And at this point in my life, friendship was in short supply.
I jammed my hands into my pockets. “Look, you're my friend. A damn good one at that. Have I f**ked this up in some way?” I asked, trying not to grit my teeth together in frustration. I was sick of miscommunication and mixed signals. Couldn't I have one, uncomplicated relationship?
Maria must have sensed I was not able to deal with any sort of drama, because she backed off quickly. Her eyes dropped shyly and she started to chew on her bottom lip. “Sorry, Clay. I guess you're not the only one that's had a shitty day,” she explained, tucking a piece of dark hair behind her ear.
She reminded me so much of Maggie just then. Down to the dark hair and total discomfort. It made my heart squeeze tightly in my chest and I just wanted to fix this tiny problem. I wasn't in a position to fix the greater messes I'd created, but this small thing, I could do something about.
I leaned down and bumped my shoulder with hers. “Hey, we're cool. We'll always be cool,” I assured her. Her pretty green eyes blinked a few times, and then softened. Though she didn't touch me as she normally would. No hugs or arm taps. I was fine with that, but I felt a little bad that she felt she couldn't do it.
“Thanks, Clay. After group, let's watch some TV. I bet there's a daytime soap calling my name,” she teased. I made a show of groaning.
“Really? Come on don't subject my manhood to such an overwhelming display of estrogen. I know you want to watch something macho like American Chopper or LA Ink,” I joked.
Maria shook her head and I was able to fall into that small semblance of normalcy I had been able to create for myself.
Chapter Four
-Maggie-
“Why did you bail so early on Saturday?” Daniel asked me after he joined Rachel and me at the lunch table on Monday. I was making pretty little patterns in my mashed potatoes and not really in the mood to explain why I had freaked out and needed to be alone. I was sure that my behavior on Saturday wasn’t a surprise to my friends. But it didn’t stop me from feeling bad for not being able to pick up the pieces and become the “old Maggie” like they wanted me to.
I was trying really hard though. After my light bulb moment at work, I was more determined than ever to stop hiding in my room and to embrace my life. Moping around and writing really bad poetry (which NO ONE would ever see) wasn’t my idea of a good time. So I had gotten dressed. I even made myself a bit more girlie than usual. I amped myself up to engage in some good ol’ teenage shenanigans.
I had gotten in my Corolla, which was still kicking by the way, and headed over to Ray’s. I knew I was in trouble once I had gotten there. There were a lot more cars than I had anticipated. I thought it was going to be a small get together. But there were easily twenty cars lining the driveway. Once I got to the front door, my suspicions were confirmed.
It was a full blown party.
I really wished Jake had told me that Ray’s parents were out of town. Then I sure as hell wouldn’t have bothered to show up.
I used to love to party. I used to love hanging out with my friends and getting loaded. But that was “PC.” Pre-Clay. Back in the days when I wasn’t hyper sensitive to the whispers and looks. The first few weeks after I had returned from my dramatic stint as a teenage runaway had been brutal. I had been miserable and depressed. Trying to go on with my life after losing Clay had been daunting, to say the least. And it was made infinitely worse by the rumors and the whispers and the blatant stares I received once I had returned to school.
I tried my damndest to seem unaffected by it. No one had to know that every mention of his name made me die a little bit more. I wore a fake smile while I tried to become that other Maggie again. The one who would never run head first off of an angsty cliff of teenage drama.
Sure the level of gossiping had subsided a bit, but it was still there. And I knew people still looked at me as “the girl whose boyfriend had tried to off himself.”
So I had purposefully avoided social functions as much as possible. Sure, I was moving on into my Post-Clay existence. But it was slow going. And approaching that front door, I knew, deep down that the party was a bad idea. But I had forced myself to suck it up.
