“Mags. Look at me,” Clay said softly. The way he said my name made me feel fluttery inside. Like that beautiful butterfly he had drawn for me. Damn him. I looked up at Clay. His dark brown eyes were full of contrition and I found it impossible to stay distant and closed off.
“I’m really sorry for how I acted earlier. I was an ass. Do you forgive me?” Did I forgive him? Um, yeah, of course I did. But I had to play it cool.
“What was your deal? I mean, why did you storm out of the cafeteria like that?” Clay sighed and dropped my hand. I felt the loss of his warmth immediately.
“I was feeling uncomfortable and insecure. I know your friends didn’t want me there. And it came out as anger instead. I have a bad habit of taking it out on whoever’s closest to me. I’m not always the nicest guy, Maggie. I have a lot of crazy baggage that you don’t need or deserve.”
There it was again, a somewhat personal admission. One that gave me only the teensiest idea of what was going on behind his hard exterior. But not enough for me to understand him. I did know that his words were meant to give me pause. For me to think about what it meant to be close to him. I looked down at the beautiful picture he had given me and I didn’t want to think about his baggage or his insane mood swings. I just wanted to be around him.
“Just promise to talk to me when you’re feeling that way. I can help you with that baggage, you know.” What was I saying? I had never dealt with anyone’s baggage! I didn’t even know what it was! My life and my friends’ lives were predictable and boring. I couldn’t imagine what it was he was alluding to. But I needed him to know I was there for him. No matter what.
Clay looked at me again and I felt my stomach turn to jelly. “You’re pretty amazing. You know that?” he asked me with a smile in his eyes. I puffed up at his compliment.
“Thanks. I think so, too,” I joked. Clay finally laughed, the seriousness of our conversation lightening a bit.
“Where you off to? Do you wanna go grab something to eat?” Clay asked, looking down at the running shoes in my hands.
Crap. I had cross-country. I couldn’t miss another practice or I would be suspended from the meet for sure. Coach Kline would kill me!
So what did I say?
“That sounds great.”
chapter
six
“what do you think about going to Melissa James’s party tonight? It would be a great way for you to meet people and to have a good time,” I told Clay while he loaded one of the glass cases in his aunt’s shop with merchandise.
Clay frowned as he placed chunks of amethyst and quartz on the shelves. “A party? I’m not sure about that,” he answered hesitantly.
Clay and I now spent most evenings together. I would come see him at work after cross-country practice. I was making an effort to get my act together. After I missed practice last week, Coach Kline had followed through on his threat and suspended me from that Friday’s meet. And that did not feel good. I hated disappointing him. Even worse, I knew I was letting myself down, too.
Coach had pulled me into his office after lunch on Monday. I knew what was coming. I had been dreading this conversation for weeks. Coach Kline was like a big teddy bear. He was popular with the kids because he was approachable and easygoing. His faith in his students was unwavering. But I knew I had broken his trust. And that hurt.
“Close the door, Maggie, and have a seat,” Coach directed after I followed him into his office. I felt my hands start to sweat. I hated confrontation on any level. Coach Kline sat down behind his desk and looked at me. “Is there something going on with you that I need to know about?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I decided playing ignorant was a good place to start. “Uh, not that I know of.” I couldn’t look at Coach. I felt too guilty. I heard him sigh.
“Maggie, you are the best runner on the team. I really thought this was your year. But I feel like your heart just isn’t in it anymore. You know, if there is anything you ever need to talk about, I’m here. My door is always open and what we discuss is confidential.”
I wanted to cover my face with my hands. God, what did he think was going on? It was my own fault, though. My unprecedented flakiness raised a million red flags. But I couldn’t admit that it was nothing more dramatic than me spending my afternoons lusting after the new guy. That probably wouldn’t go over too well.
“Everything’s cool, Coach. I guess I just have other stuff going on right now.” Well, that was sort of the truth. I heard Coach click his pen over and over again. I looked at him and knew that I couldn’t keep shirking my responsibilities. It wasn’t fair to Coach or the team.
Coach Kline looked at me and frowned. “Well, I don’t need to tell you that you miss one more practice and I have no choice but to suspend you for the rest of the season. It’s the school policy. And I would hate to lose you. You have scholarships out there waiting for you. With your record, you’d be a shoo-in. Don’t throw it all away. You’d regret it down the road.” I knew he was right.
“I won’t, Coach. I promise.” At the time, I really meant those words. I wanted the scholarships and the sparkling, pretty future. I wanted to make my family and school proud. These were all rational thoughts.
But when I saw Clay waiting for me after school, all rational thought went right out the window. It was too easy to lose myself in his company. He was like a drug and I was hopelessly addicted.
So cutting out our afternoon rendezvous was like going cold turkey. It seriously sucked. Instead, I had started stalking him at Ruby’s Bookshelf. I knew he helped out there after school. I just couldn’t go an entire day without having that alone time with him that I had come to crave. I also hated to admit that I was driven by my horrible jealousy over the too-pretty-for-comfort Tilly—whose crush on Clay was becoming more and more obvious. Luckily, Clay was oblivious, otherwise I would have had a serious catfight on my hands.
Clay always seemed happy to see me, and so it had become our thing. He got help at the shop and I got my Clayton Reed fix. Of course, now, instead of pissing off my coach, I was pissing off my parents by missing dinner most nights of the week.
But I needed this time with Clay. When we were by ourselves, I saw a side of him that was so different from the image he projected at school. After our disastrous lunch together, Clay had joined us a few other times. Rachel tried really hard to be nice to Clay and there were times when I thought maybe these two parts of my life might be able to coexist. Clay could be talkative and polite with my friends when the mood suited him. I loved seeing him banter with Rachel and talk to Daniel (who was making an effort, at least) about soccer. Clay made me feel so endlessly happy when he was like that.
But then there were the days when Clay would disappear, not showing up for lunch and becoming again the shadow in the hallways. If I approached him, he would either blow me off or act like he was angry with me. His moods were mercurial. He seemed to close in on himself at times and it made me sick to my stomach. I asked him about it once and he pretended that he didn’t know what I was talking about, that I was imagining things.
