Claire's Song

by Ashley King

  “No, keep it turned up,” I demand as I reach over and twist the dial back up. I accidentally brush Ryder's hand while doing so, a subtle reminder that this is no ordinary hang out at the house.

  Nerves twist and turn in my stomach making me nauseated. I haven’t been out with anyone since Jamie. And even then, it was always just Jamie and me, always us against the world. Looking down at my wrist, at the black initials, I don’t feel guilty about going out with Ryder. That has to be a huge step in the right direction. I think Jamie could’ve been friends with Ryder. My mind wonders to what it would’ve been like if Jamie was still alive. Would the three of us be going out? Would I still be desperately in love with Jamie? Or would I feel totally lost in Ryder? It's as if I’ve known him longer than I really have. Things feel easy with him when we’re silent, but it’s a paradox, really. While it's easy, it’s also harder than it ever was with Jamie. I can feel Ryder pushing, pushing me away from him at times, and then I can tell when he’s given up, when he's letting me get closer. Tonight I think is one of those nights.

  “You ever been to Midtown's?” Ryder turns to look at me, the sun setting in the sky, a hazy dusk settling over the world. The way it shades Ryder’s face makes him look like he’s not real, like he’s too handsome to be here on this Earth with me.

  I turn my face towards the window, well aware that I’ve been staring at Ryder and thankful that he’s occupied with driving. “Nope. I’ve heard of it, though. Eighteen and over?”

  Ryder nods, “Yeah on some nights.”

  “You want to play there?”

  There’s a really long pause and Ryder’s hands clench the steering wheel. The tension moves from his arms and wraps its way up to his neck. The muscles in his jaw, which I've become slightly obsessed with, begin to pop.

  “Did I say something wrong? I thought you wanted to play somewhere before you graduate or did I misunderstand you?” This is our night of fun, so I’m not going to let him get away with his usual moodiness.

  “No, it's okay. Nothing's wrong. Touchy subject, that’s all.” He pauses. “Yeah, I’d like to play there. It’s a great place and I like the people there.”

  I nod and pull my feet under me. “Did you know I can’t drive at night?” I blurt out, as the sky turns completely black. The stars dance across the sky and wink at me through the dirty car window.

  “Really?” Ryder laughs. My plan worked and he’s back to normal Ryder again. I can almost see the tension leaving his body as he relaxes.

  “Yeah. I got into a couple of car accidents at night, nothing serious. I mean I also tend to panic when I drive in the dark. It's a weird thing that just got worse with everything that happened with Jamie. Because of that my parents decided to take away the privilege. Lame right? I’m a senior and can’t even drive at night,” I scoff. There’s a pause as I count the headlights passing us by, they become few and far between as we leave the city limits. “I did drive at night once this year, though,” I whisper in a small voice, my face turned completely towards the window. I don’t want Ryder to see me, and I don’t want to see his reaction. I do want him to know that I did it for him and I hope he understands that he means more to me than he should.

  “When?” he turns to me, his dark brow furrowed. The headlights of an oncoming car shine in and illuminate everything.

  “When you left my house that day,” I admit, daring to look at his face.

  “What?” He’s confused and his face is twisted up.

  “Yeah, that Saturday you left my house? I came after you.”

  Ryder looks at me with disbelief, “You came after me? Why?”

  I cover my face with my cardigan suddenly feeling self-conscious. Because of you, because I confused you with Jamie and I didn’t go after him. Because I care about you. So many things race through my mind and I can’t quite pinpoint the exact reason. I wanted him to know these things and I wanted tonight to be different, to be fun, to be honest. He was right, we’d had one heck of a week and deserved a break, deserved to feel free for a while, and free from the craziness of the world we find ourselves in.

  Ryder pulls the car over on the side of the road. Once it's in park, he whips around to face me, gently pulling my hand from my face. He holds it on the center console and it feels like the most natural thing in the world, aside from the crazy butterflies in my stomach.

  "Claire, why? Why did you come after me?"

  "Because," I feel my heart skittering about in my chest, trying to chase away the lies, leaving behind only the truth. I take a deep breath, my thumb gently rubbing his hand and thinking how the slightest touch from Ryder can make me feel as if I've tripped a livewire. "Because I was scared you were going to…I don't know. I just knew that I cared about you already, that I wanted to be your friend." I pause, knowing that's not true. Well, at least it's not true anymore. I want to be more than that, but I need more time to ready myself for that. "I worried something was going to happen to you. With Jamie…" I shake my head, sending thoughts of my best friend into the abyss. Tonight was about temporarily forgetting. "Look it's not important."

  Ryder reaches across and moves as if he might put his hand on my cheek, then thinks better of it. A disappointed sigh escapes from my lips and I wonder if he heard it. He's eerily observant.

  "It is important. You risked your life for me, Claire. I'm what's not important. Okay? You can't do stuff like that. I couldn't take it if something happened to you, especially because of me." A pained expression flashes across Ryder's face, his eyes squeeze shut for a moment and when they reopen, it's like everything has washed away. "Promise me," he whispers.

  I shake my head, because that’s something I can't promise. "No. I care about what happens to you, Ryder. Deal with it." He stares at me for a long moment, the intensity of his gaze making me blush. What if he kissed me? What would it feel like? My eyes drop to his lips and I know he sees it because his hand tightens the slightest bit on mine. He shifts, and then like cold water is poured on him, he coughs and faces the front again.

  "I guess we should get going if we want to catch that band."

  "I guess so," I turn to look out into the darkness and wonder if this is all my life will ever be. Stolen moments that couldn't quite fully develop. A different kind of tension permeates the car as Ryder pulls back onto the road. We make small talk about the music playing, about the band we're going to see, but we keep it light. We never go back to our disagreement or to anything that might ruin the fun, although it kind of feels like I ruined it already. Me and my big mouth. The one and only time I speak up to say what I think and things get crazy.

  We pull into the next town, much busier than our own. It even has a mall with more than five stores in it. Ryder takes us to the historic district lined with brick buildings and cute little shops. Gaslights dot the walkways and we park down the street from Midtown. I can see its electric blue sign like a beacon calling me ashore. Tons of people our age are scattered about the streets, all walking quickly towards the club and some are taking smoke breaks near the palm trees.

  "You ready?" Ryder turns off the car and looks at me. His hair falls across his forehead and I itch to push it back. My hand twitches and I have to fight the urge. I just nod and get out of the car. Ryder surprises me by coming around and putting his arm around me, just like Jamie used to do. It feels like a missing piece of the puzzle has been found, but if that's the case, then why does it feel so fleeting?

  RYDER

  This girl has ruined me. I've got her petite frame nestled under the crook of my arm because I don't want anyone to mess with her at the club. It's also because I want to touch her. She's like a drug that I'm already addicted too.

  I still can't believe she went after me when I left her house like a complete prick that day. Knowing she can't drive at night, yet she went out anyway. She's feisty and does whatever she wants to, that's for sure. I just can't seem to think I deserve it. I don't really deserve anything. I know I shouldn't lead Claire on, knowing
I won't be here much longer, but I'm a selfish and want to have one last hoorah before I go out. I can't die without knowing what it's like to kiss those perfect lips.

  We get to the door and I can already feel the music throbbing. It pulsates through my veins and it feels like home. Music always does. Even when my world's gone pear shaped, music stays the same. It's always there waiting for me.

  The bouncer is three times taller and wider than me with tattoos snaking around his neck and into his black shirt that reads "SECURITY." He's probably in his forties and has a close buzz cut with a handlebar mustache. He looks at Claire curiously for a moment, but stamps our hands and lets us through.

  Claire squeezes my hand as we step into the craziness. The place is packed, people jumping around and flailing to the music. The lead singer of the opening band screams out the lyrics, the crowd singing along with him.

  "You okay?" I bend down close to Claire and whisper in her ear.

  She looks up at me with wide eyes and I almost kick myself for bringing her here. I did it because I thought she'd like the next band. They aren't super famous, but they are pretty good and kind of a hometown legend. They're a punk band with a little scream-o thrown in.

  "I'm okay," Claire answers with a forced smile.

  We weave through the sweaty bodies and find a spot in the back where a blue light shines through the darkness. Claire's dark hair looks even more amazing in this light and I love the way she looks around the club checking out her surroundings. Most of all, I love that she's standing so close to me that I can smell her vanilla perfume. Her arms are crossed over her chest protectively and I wonder what she's thinking. After a minute she warms up and starts tapping her foot to the beat.

  The band ends their set and Silver Python takes the stage. The lead singer is a girl in her mid-twenties with fire engine red hair tied up in a knot on top of her head. She reminds me of Gwen Stefani. Claire smiles up at me, "Female lead singer? Awesome!"

  I can’t help but laugh. I figured she'd appreciate it, almost scaring me at how well I already know this girl who came into my life like a freaking tornado, tearing up everything I had put up to keep people away.

  "Well hello there," the lead singer coos and smiles at the audience as she grabs the mic. The rest of the band waves and then they start rocking.

  Claire loves it instantly. Her body sways to the music and as it speeds up, she starts bouncing slowly as if she can barely contain herself. Everyone's jumping around, I'm bobbing my head, hands in my pockets, but I can feel the contagion. The chorus is when things get crazy as Claire and I join the rest of the place in jumping up and down to the music. Claire's laughing, her eyes lit up by the blue lights and the strobe. She turns to me, grabs my hands and starts doing this silly dance I would never be caught dead doing. But it's Claire. And I think I'm falling for her, so I do it. I dance around with this girl like a complete idiot through every single one of Silver Python's songs. Bodies crash and crush into us, but we're not deterred. We're in our own world, completely oblivious to everything, to the pain that brought us together.

  The final song is a slow one and I'm loving the fact that the bass player picks up a violin. It's an acoustic song, the singer's voice channeling the ache inside her chest. Claire turns to me, with a huge smile upon that beautiful face of hers, one of her real smiles, one that's not just for show or to please.

  "I love violins," she sighs happily.

  "Me too, especially in acoustic sets," I grin because it feels good to be the person who brought that smile to her face.

  Couples in the crowd start to sway together, forehead to forehead, cell phones and lighters go up as the lights are completely dimmed, aside from the bright red EXIT lights. Claire is standing in front of me and I'm itching to put my arms around her, to hold her in this moment. She's got her hands down by her sides, swaying to the gentle sound of the violin.

  I touch her gently, one hand on the hip just to test it. She freezes for a moment, but then begins to sway again. Her hand comes up and lands on mine. My other hand comes up and I place it on the other side of her body. I don't hold her too close because I don't trust myself with her and more than anything else, I have to trust myself with this girl. She's different from anyone I've ever met. We move slowly to the music, her hands on top of mine, her back leaning against my chest, the top of her head brushing my chin. A smile breaks out across my face and I can't ever really remember feeling happy, but I know without a doubt that this is what it feels like.

  The song ends too soon and my hands drop from Claire's body. They still burn from contact with her skin and I wipe them on my jeans, but it's still there. She drives me insane in the best kind of way.

  Silver Python leaves the stage and another band comes on, this one is actually kind of crappy. Claire turns around to me, as if she can read my mind. "They suck, huh?" She says into my ear. She has to stand on her toes to reach me and her hand rests easily on my shoulder.

  "Wanna get out of here?" I turn to her, her face still close to mine. So many times I've had the chance to kiss her and so many times I've wanted to do it. But I want it to be perfect. She deserves it to be perfect. She deserves much more than a messed up homeless kid.

  Claire nods and we weave through the bodies again until we get to the exit. Once outside I feel like I can breathe again, nobody breathing down my neck. Yet I have to admit that I didn't mind Claire breathing down my neck. I'd gladly dance with her any time she asked.

  "Huddle House?" She asks as a grin splits across her flushed cheeks. The streets look like a ghost town in a western film. Everyone is at Midtown's or asleep, I guess.

  "I couldn't think of a better idea myself," I answer as I swing open my car door.

  Claire talks the entire way there, energized and completely different due to the music still pulsing in her veins. Everything about her is so bright and I wonder how people like Lindy Baker can be okay with dulling that.

  Huddle House is pretty packed, but we manage to find a booth in the way back that somehow makes us feel like we’re in our own bubble. Lately I’ve been noticing that it's like that any time I’m with Claire.

  “Thank you so much for taking me to see that band,” Claire says for the hundredth time while we wait for our food to come.

  She’s tearing at her napkin and biting her lip. Does she have any idea that she drives me crazy when she does that lip thing? I want to kiss her more than I did earlier and I can’t seem to think about a time before she filled up every ounce of my being, my world.

  “You really don’t have to thank me, not after all you and your parents have done for me. I’d be living in my car if it weren’t for you.”

  She stills and won’t look at me. The table is the most interesting thing in the world to her. Look at me, I want to say.

  “Tonight was the most fun I’ve had in a really, really long time,” Claire finally peers up at me, that shy smile spreading across her face. She stops for a minute as the waitress puts our food on the table. Claire stares at her huge plate of hash browns and French toast. Finally she continues, “Sometimes after bad things happen, do you ever wonder if you’ll ever have fun again?” She’s poking around her plate waiting for an answer. Her question hits too close to home.

  I think about my old life, about the old me, the football player who picked on kids just like who I’ve become. I think about the trophy girlfriend who was brainless and robotic. I think about Lindy and how low I was to even go there. After Dad left without saying a word to me, I thought that maybe we would be okay. Then came the trailer park. Not just any trailer park, but a busted, run down crack house neighborhood full of people who get high every day, always looking for their next hit. My pride was wounded, but even then, I thought maybe I could do this. Then came the rumors at school, being called a rapist, having my face punched in by the very guys I once called my teammates. My resolve to live began to chip away slowly every day. Every day a little piece of myself was lost until I was down to practically nothin
g. I felt nothing, not even the times my own mother beat me or her boyfriend of the month would kick me in the ribs while I was down. I felt nothing until Claire Watkins sat in that seat next to me, studying me with interest, rather than the disgust that most students wore like a second skin.

  Claire shifts a little, finally eating her food. She looks up at me, waiting for me to answer.

  “Yeah. Yeah I used to feel that way, but now things feel different,” I say honestly.

  She nods and talks around her food, still bouncing from the concert, “Right? Tonight was so fun, just what I needed.” She sighs and sits back against the booth, her eyes shining. “Maybe you’re just what I needed.”

  Her face turns ten shades of red and everything freezes. Did she really just say that? I’m sure my mouth is hanging open, so I quickly snap it shut. I want to tell her that I feel the same about her, that everything about her drives me insane, makes me want to be a better man. But there’s a voice warring inside of my head, telling me to leave her alone, to let tonight be what it is and walk away. As I stare at her crimson stained cheeks, her perfect pink lips, those wide green eyes watching me in suspense, I make a decision that I’ll try my hardest to stick to.

  “Yeah, we gotta get going after this, huh? Curfew and all that.” I smooth away the tension lines in her face with my words, although I don’t miss the way her shoulders sag at my response.

  After I pay the bill, we get in the car and are headed back to town when “Friday I’m in Love” comes on. The fragile smile that I’ve grown to love spreads across Claire’s face as she reaches for the radio knob. She turns it so high that it’s blasting through our eardrums, out into the cool night air.

  “I love this song!” She screams. She immediately starts singing the words at the top of her lungs and doing this crazy, little dance where she swings her arms over her head and her black bob moves against her face.

  Laughter erupts from my chest at seeing her so wild and free. I saw a glimpse of it at the club, but now I see that she was holding back. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m singing right along with her. The windows are rolled down so Robert Smith’s vocals are serenading everything, while we're screaming, laughing, and acting like idiots. When I look at her, laughing like that, I want to change things. I want to stay here for her, but I know I can't.