I took a deep breath. “Do you ever get tired of apologizing?” I asked Clay coldly.
Clay frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean? I just wanted you to know that I understand I was a dick and that I’m sorry, because I love you. Why do you have to be so dramatic about it?” he asked me with obvious irritation.
I barked out a laugh and slammed my locker door shut. “Me, dramatic? From you, that’s rich,” I huffed, starting down the hallway.
Clay caught up with me and grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop. “Are you seriously that pissed? I mean, I get that I was kind of an asshole, but I don’t think it warrants this sort of reaction.” Wow, he really didn’t get how our relationship, even as much as I wanted to deny it, was falling into this crazy pattern of him being a jerk and then apologizing for it. Of me getting upset but then relieved when he came around.
“Don’t you see that fifty percent of our interactions have become you spouting your apologies for something you’ve said or done? That we spend most of our time upset at each other? This is getting ridiculous.”
Clay tugged on my hand and wrapped his arms around my stiff body. “I know, baby. But I’m trying. I really am. Please be patient with me,” he urged, leaning down to place his lips on mine. I wanted to tell him that “trying” was quickly becoming not good enough. That I was emotionally spent and I wanted us to get back to being that boy and girl who swam in the river together.
But I could feel the desperation in his embrace, in his sadness-tinged kiss. I knew he loved me. And I wanted so badly for that to be all that I needed to be happy.
“Can we go to my house? I think we need some time alone. Just the two of us. With everything going on, we’re both stressed out,” Clay said. I felt myself weaken and cave to him.
“Yeah. Let’s go.” Clay gave me the most dazzling smile and lifted me off my feet and swung me around.
“I have the most beautiful and amazing girlfriendever!” he yelled, as he covered my face with kisses after putting me back on the ground. I hid my face in embarrassment at his display of affection. I could feel Clay’s laughter under my cheek as he led me to his car.
As I got in, I had a moment of guilt that here I was again, lying to my parents. However, as Clay leaned over and kissed me lovingly on the mouth, warmth settled into my belly, ensuring those feelings were fleeting.
Clay peeled out of the parking lot, his tires screeching in his hurry to get away from the school. “Slow down, Clay, or we’ll never make it to your house.”
Clay grinned his crazy, happy smile and reached over to take my hand. He kissed my fingers, one at a time, as he came to a stoplight.
“I love you, Maggie.”
I smiled. I couldn’t help but forget everything else when he said those words to me.
I ducked down in the seat as we passed the library where my father worked. Clay just laughed at me again, telling me how silly I was being. “Yeah, well, if I want to see the light of day, I can’t let them catch me with you, okay?” I grumbled.
That sobered Clay. “They hate me that much?” He sounded gutted and I instantly felt horrible for not choosing my words more carefully.
“It’s not that they hate you; they just worry we’re too serious. That I’m spending too much time with you,” I said.
Clay gave me a smirk. “That we’re having sex?” he asked.
I smacked his arm. “Well, obviously their concerns are founded in that department, huh?” I joked. Clay pulled into his driveway and cut off the engine. And, just like that, he was over the center console and kissing me like mad.
“Clay! Don’t you think we should go inside?” I laughed as his hands started up my shirt. Clay moaned something unintelligible. “Clay! Come on, you have neighbors,” I gasped as his fingers found my breasts and began gently rubbing them.
He kissed me again and pulled away with a sexy smile. “Well, come on, then.” He jumped out of the car. I smiled back, shaking my head as I got out. Clay wrapped himself around me again as we started walking toward his front door.
It was then that I noticed the black Mercedes parked on the street in front of the house. I stopped walking. Clay looked at me in confusion. “What?”
I pointed to the car. “It looks like you have a visitor.”
The blood left his face and he looked like he was going to throw up. His teeth clenched. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he growled. His sudden and extreme anger scared me.
I grabbed his arm. “What is it, Clay? Whose car is that?”
Clay didn’t respond and just started walking toward the front door, fury evident in his every step. I had to hurry to catch up with him. I wrenched his hand before he could go inside.
“You’re freaking me out, Clay. Who’s here?” I could hear the trembling in my voice as I tried to reach the boy who had suddenly disappeared inside himself.
He wouldn’t look at me, his body rigid. “I guess you’re going to get to meet my parents,” he said coldly. I felt like I had been plunged into ice water. His parents? Oh, shit. Clay swung open the front door and let it slam back against the wall.
I stood on the front stoop, not knowing what to do. He was seething with anger and I wasn’t sure I wanted to witness whatever was about to go down. But I couldn’t leave him. He needed me now more than ever. So I tentatively walked into the house.
