Find You in the Dark

by A. Meredith Walters

  I opened up the folded paper and smoothed it out. It was an amazingly intricate charcoal drawing of a gothic looking butterfly. The detail was unbelievable. It looked like one of those cool tribal art tattoos. It was edgy yet delicate at the same time. I couldn't quite believe that Clay could be capable of such beautiful artwork. His aloof coldness belied the sensitive soul who was able to communicate so much through a drawing. Then I noticed some writing at the bottom. In thin, sloping script it read “Goodness is your virtue. Quiet beauty your weapon.” I almost stopped breathing. The words sounded like some sort of love poem. What did he mean by them? And why could he act like he wanted nothing to do with me one minute and then practically lay his heart out on the table, the next? It made no sense.

  I looked up and found Clay standing a little ways down the hallway, watching me. Our eyes met and an undeniable electricity passed between us. Did he feel like I did? What did this drawing mean? Was he trying to tell me something? I gathered up my book bag and shoes for cross country and walked toward him.

  He watched me the entire time with a hesitant look on his face. I stopped in front of him and held up the drawing. “You did this?” I asked him, although I already knew the answer. Clay nodded. “I didn't know you were an artist. This is...just...wow.” I said inarticulately. God, why did I have to be such a moron?

  Clay's lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. “Thanks.” He said simply, still watching me in that intense way of his. “And the words at the bottom? Did you write them?” I asked, trying to pull something out of him that would get him to open up. To tell me what he was thinking.

  Clay pushed himself off the locker and started walking with me down the hallway. “No. It's a Japanese poet I really love. That particular poem made me think of you. You should read it.” Japanese poetry huh? Deep stuff.

  He was reciting pretty Japanese poetry to me. A guy didn't do that sort of thing unless he liked the girl, right? I mean, that's the only thing that makes sense. But then what was with the arctic freeze out earlier?

  Ugg! There was that obsessive self- doubt again. It had to stop!

  “Well, thanks.” I forced myself to say cooly. There was no way I would let Clay know what he did to me. It was becoming a bit embarrassing. Clay took a hold of my hand and pulled me to a stop. I should probably have moved out of his grasp. That would have been the smart thing to do. Not throwing myself head first into this crazy whirlwind that seemed to suck me in and refused to let go. But I liked how his hand felt around mine way too much to do that. So I looked at my shoes, finding them suddenly very interesting.

  “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 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?” Do 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 who ever'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 spent most evenings together. I would come and see him at work after cross country practice. I was making an effort to get my act together. Because after missing practice last week, Coach Kline had followed through on his threat and suspended me from the meet over the weekend. 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 easy going. 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 me after following 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 into 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 unaccustomed flakiness put up a million red flags. But I couldn't admit that it was nothing more harmless 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 shoe 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 a
t 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 as serious cat fight on my hands.

  Clay always seemed happy to see me and so it had become our thing. I would help him out 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 as a result of me missing dinner most of the week.

  But I needed this time with Clay. Because when we were by our selves, I saw a side of him that was so different from the guy he projected at school. After our disastrous lunch together a few weeks ago, Clay had joined us a few other times. Rachel tried really hard to be nice to Clay and there were times when I thought that maybe these two parts of my life might be able to co-exist. 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.

  But when things were good. They were fantastic. He was so much fun to be around. He made me laugh and let loose in a way that I had never done before. He made the most mundane things exciting and interesting. There was something magnetic about Clayton Reed that made it almost impossible for me to stay away from him.

  We were still technically “friends.” Though our friendship danced a very fine line into something else. I could feel it. I knew Clay could feel it. But I also knew Clay held back for some reason and right now I was okay with letting us go at his pace. Because I knew it would lead to something life altering. Even though it drove me nuts.

  Particularly since Clay continued to garner a lot of attention from the girls at Jackson High School. I hated the painful jealousy I'd feel whenever I watched some stupid cheerleader or annoying flirty girl try to get his attention. I was possessive of my relationship with Clay in a way that surprised me. But I found, to my intense relief, he seemed content with spending time within my small circle.

  I had come to realize how amazing Clayton Reed was and I didn't want to share him.

  “What's wrong with going to a party?” I asked innocently, really not attending to his wariness. I handed him a handful of pewter figurines and he carefully placed them on top of the case. I watched his purposeful yet delicate movements and thought about those hands touching me with the same gentleness.

  Clayton seemed to be weighing his words before he answered me. “I'm just not really a party person anymore.” “Anymore? Were you a party person before?” I asked him. Clayton sat back on the chair behind him and started digging through the box on the floor at his feet. He was still so choosy in the information he revealed about himself. I had learned in the last few weeks that he felt his parents could no longer “deal” with him and that's why he was now living with his aunt. He admitted to having a lot of “problems” and it had become too much for his mom and dad to “handle.” His aunt was apparently much more patient and supportive of him, and he felt more relaxed in her home than he ever did with his parents.

  “Yeah, partying was part of my issue in Florida.” He said, getting up and carrying the box to the back room. Tilly gave him a smile as he passed by her. Her smile to me was much tighter and I knew it bothered the older girl that I hung out with Clayton in the store, which she must have viewed as her territory.

  Okay, so maybe my smile was a little smug as I followed Clayton with another box. But I couldn't help it. “Do you need any help, Clay?” Tilly called out. She was tenacious, I'd give her that. “We're good, Tilly. Thanks though.” Clay replied over his shoulder without looking in her direction -(earning Tilly another smug smile from yours truly-).

  I dropped it on the floor inside the dark storage room. “Be careful, Mags. Ruby will have my head if you break the crystal balls in there.” He said sharply, quickly looking through the box to make sure everything was still in one piece. Despite his terse tone, I thrilled at his use of my nickname. I loved it when he called me Mags instead of Maggie, thinking it hinted at an intimacy that I desperately longed for.

  “Sorry, Clay.” I said, sitting down in a metal chair. I stretched my back after carrying the heavy box. “So you had a problem with partying in Florida? What kind of problem?” I asked as he sorted through the greeting cards inside his box. Clay looked up at me with that unreadable expression he was prone to displaying.

  “Well, I got in heavy with drugs and stuff. Hanging with the wrong crowd and all. Things got a little out of control for awhile. But that was only a symptom of everything else, I guess.” His voice was cagey, always aware of how much he was reveling about himself.

  “Wow Clay, you just don't seem like that kind of guy. I'm a bit surprised.” I said, watching him closely. Clayton sighed. “I'm definitely that kind of guy. You have no idea.” He muttered. I wanted to ask him more. To find out how “out of control” he had been. I wanted to know everything about my mysterious friend, but he remained hesitant and wary. Despite how close we were becoming, there was a very significant line that I just couldn't cross. Yet.

  “So, no party then?” I asked him. Clay's shoulders dropped as he stood up. He seemed unsure of himself and it made me want to hug him. “Would we go there together?” He asked me. Would we ever! I wouldn't let him out of my sight if I could help it. But I responded with an airy, “Of course, if you want to.”

  Clay seemed to be ruminating over his response. How a high school party could be such a matter of life and death was beyond me. “And Rachel and Daniel are going?” He clarified. Clearly he needed strength in numbers or something. I nodded. “Okay then. I guess I'll go. If you want me to.” He looked at me, waiting for my affirmation.

  “I'd love for you to go.” I said, relieved that he would be with me in a social setting. I had this primal need to mark him as mine. To make it clear to all the idiots at school that he belonged to me. Wow, had I gone all alpha? “Will there be, you know, drinking and stuff? Because that's kind of hard for me.” He admitted softly. He seemed sad all of a sudden, the sudden change in him catching me by surprise. His moods were so up and down; he was hard to keep up with.

  “Melissa's parties aren't like that. Her parents are usually there somewhere. It's typically a bonfire in her back field with music and people just hanging out. It's a good time.” Clay still seemed a bit unsure but took me at my word. “Okay then, sounds good.” He said and gave his first real smile since I had brought the whole party thing up.

  “Great!” I said a little too loudly and I winced at my overt display of enthusiasm. Clay reached over and squeezed my hand. I startled at the physical contact. He wasn't a touchy feely kind of guy, so I was taken aback by it. “You're so cute when you get excited.” He said, looking at me with something that could only be described as tenderness.

  I know I stopped breathing. He thought I was cute? Our eyes held each others', not moving away. A moment began to build and Clay took in a sharp breath. His eyes dropped to my lips and I could have sworn he wanted to kiss me. My tongued darted out and wet my suddenly dry lips and I watched his eyes follow the movement.

  The air crackled with the tension. Clayton's eyes burned with intensity. I felt like we were trapped in slow motion. His hand came up and lightly touched my face. I angled my cheek toward his palm and I closed my eyes. “Maggie.” He whispered, his breath on my face as he moved closer.

  And my phone started buzzing
in my pocket. Why did this always happen?! Clay immediately jumped back, putting space between us. He was suddenly focused on finishing his task of unloading the boxes on the floor. Crap! Someone had better be dying! I glanced at the screen on my phone and saw Rachel's name.

  “What?” I barked after I answered. “Jeez. Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Rachel's testy voice asked on the other end. I took a steadying breath and tried to calm the frantic beat of my heart. I looked back over at Clay but he had turned away from me.

  “Sorry, Rach. What do you need?” I mollified, trying to not sound as agitated as I felt. “I was just calling to see what time you wanted me to pick you up tonight.” She said, still sounding miffed by my earlier attitude. “You're not going with Daniel? I thought you guys were riding over together.” I asked, already fearing the answer. Daniel must have bailed on her, thus her prickliness. Confirming my thoughts, Rachel told me that he had called an hour ago and said he'd be taking Kylie to the party. Rachel sounded so dejected that I wanted to call Daniel and ream him out. I was sick of him doing this to her. Even if he was my other best friend, it didn't mean I had to sit by and watch him be so thoughtless all the time.

  I didn't comment on Daniel's ass-itude, knowing that it wouldn't help Rachel feel better. “Hold on.” I told her, covering the mouth piece with my hand. “Hey, Clay.” I whispered. Clay turned around, not really meeting my eyes. His expression was cold. Great, he was totally regretting our little moment earlier. Whatever, I could play the I- don't- care game with the best of them.

  “Do you want to ride with me and Rachel?” Clay shrugged. “I can just meet you guys there. Don't worry about me.” He said, turning back around, walls firmly in place. His nerves from earlier seemed to have taken a back seat to his need to stay away from me. I suppressed a sigh and returned to my conversation with Rachel. “Eight-thirty sound good to you?” I asked her, trying to sound more upbeat. The truth was I was bummed that Clay wouldn't be going to the party with me. Sure he said he'd meet us there, but it's not the same as actually arriving together.