Out Of The Ashes

by Diana Gardin

  “Clay…that’s not something you can promise. We’ve learned that when it comes to Hannah, I’m on my own. She can get to me with you sitting right next to me.”

  “Not anymore,” he vowed.

  I looked at him sadly. I felt low, the lowest I’d felt in a long time. Now he was making promises he couldn’t keep. Hannah was as crazy as they come, and lunatics like her didn’t rest. She was coming for me, whether Clay wanted to protect me or not. The fact he wanted to shield me probably made things worse.

  “I’ll see you later,” I whispered, reaching for my door handle.

  “Don’t go like this. Let’s make a plan for dinner tonight,” he pleaded.

  “Text me.” I opened the door and climbed out of the car, closing it firmly behind me.

  I didn’t look back as I headed up the sidewalk and entered my apartment.

  Gillian intercepted my entrance. “Hey, chick,” she said. “How are you holding up?”

  I walked right into her open arms and let the tears I’d been holding in with Clay roll down my cheeks. She just hugged me, not saying another word.

  When I finished, I sniffled and rubbed the sleeve of Clay’s t-shirt across my leaking nose. I smelled Clay on the shirt, and it smelled like everything I had ever wanted. So why did it have to be tainted? Why couldn’t I just have him, without all the dangerous drama?

  Didn’t God owe me that after taking away my whole family?

  “Not great,” I admitted to Gill. “I’ve got to get a grip, but I can’t seem to forget the fact that there’s a girl out there who hates me so much she was willing to blow me up with a cupcake.”

  “I want to cut the bitch,” Gillian hissed. “She has no idea who she’s messing with, Paige. You are not some battered, bruised little girl. You are tough. You are strong. And you have me.”

  I cracked a watery smile. “And we have ice cream?”

  “Oh, girl. It’s already out on the counter! I’ll get the spoons.”

  So we sat on the couch and devoured Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream for breakfast. And ice cream for breakfast always makes everything a little rosier.

  ~**~

  Clay texted me later that afternoon asking what I wanted to do for dinner. I told him I was just going to stay in and hang with Gillian and Tima, and it wasn’t a lie. The three of us ordered a pizza and drank cold beer, and it was all very plain and normal and fun. It was what I needed after Saturday night’s fiasco, and I knew seeing Clay right now would just remind me of that.

  Later that night, after the pizza was long gone and I’d had one beer too many, I settled down in my bed for the night. I hadn’t realized how much sleeping with Clay for the past month had healed me. Having his long, warm body lying next to mine had fought away the demons my subconscious tried so hard to resurrect each night in my dreams.

  I missed him. I pulled my phone off the nightstand.

  Paige: What are you doing?

  He replied almost immediately.

  Clay: Lying in bed thinking about you.

  It was the answer I wanted to read, but reading it made my chest ache. It was such a catch twenty-two. I wanted him with me; he made me better. Stronger. But having him with me made me think of Hannah, and she was the opposite of good for me. She was dangerous.

  Paige: I’m thinking about you 2.

  Clay: Then you should b here with me.

  Paige: I just can’t tonight, Clay. It’s not your fault. I just need a little time.

  I toyed with my phone, turning it over and over in my hands as I stared at my window. Yellow light washed the walls of my room, light from the streetlamp just outside.

  Clay: I love u. So I’ll give you whatever you want. Goodnight Paige.

  I sighed, placed my phone on the nightstand, and turned over in my bed away from the window. I waited for sleep to find me, and as I waited I allowed the tears fighting to escape to roll silently down my cheeks.

  Twenty-Nine

  Paige

  Monday morning dawned bright and cold, a sure sign that winter wasn’t far away. I showered and dressed warmly in jeans, fur Ugg boots, and a snug Henley sweater. I found Gillian in the kitchen sitting at the table with both hands enclosed around a mug of steaming mocha.

  “’Morning,” she greeted me.

  “Good morning yourself,” I answered. “I only have time for a to-go cup, I stayed in bed too long this morning. I didn’t want to get out from under my warm blanket.”

  “Can’t blame ya, chick,” Gillian answered. “It’s freezing.”

  She studied me. “I have a free morning. Do you want me to walk you to class?”

  She was nonchalant, taking a sip of her coffee while waiting for me to answer.

  “What are you really asking? If I want you to be my bodyguard?”

  “Paige--“

  “No, Gill. I don’t need a babysitter. I have class with Hannah. So what? She’s not going to stab me to death in a room full of people. I can deal with her myself. I don’t need my big sister Gill to shield me from the schoolyard bully anymore.”

  Gillian huffed. “I want to help, Paige. I know you blew Clay off last night. And yeah, it was nice having you hang with us, but I knew where you really wanted to be. And he’s good for you. Don’t let Hannah ruin it. Let’s go to the Dean.”

  I stuck my chin out, a habit I knew I had when I was feeling stubborn. “I want to handle this myself. I don’t want to go tattling to anyone. I’m in college, for Pete’s sake. I shouldn’t have to let anyone else fight my battles.”

  “That’s not what you’d be--“

  I silenced her with a swipe of my hand in the air. “I’m going to class. Love you, see you later.”

  I grabbed my bag and stormed out.

  I stopped by the Student Center to pick up a latte on my way to Theater Appreciation and then flew to my class building so I wouldn’t be late.

  When I arrived, most of the seats were full except some front row desks, and I gratefully snagged one and sat down. It wasn’t lost on me that Hannah was present, and sitting in her usual spot in the back row with her pack of loyal bloodhounds.

  I was already sorry about my tiff with Gillian; we never argued. I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text message telling her I appreciated her concern and I would consider her advice.

  “Today,” the professor began. “We begin our study of great eighteenth-century playwrights.”

  The entire class stifled a groan, but not very well.

  As the professor began his fifty-minute lecture about history’s most boring plays in his monotone, my mind began to drift. I thought about what Clay was doing right now. Soccer season was over and he didn’t have early morning classes scheduled, so he was probably in bed. I imagined him laying there, comfy and cozy under his sheet and gray-and-white striped comforter, hugging the pillow the way he did when he was in a deep sleep. Only when I was there, it wasn’t the pillow he guarded with his strong arms. It was me.

  “Ouch!” I hissed as the person sitting behind me poked a finger into my back.

  I turned slightly to see the girl sitting there shrug apologetically and hand me a note. I glanced back at the professor; still droning on aimlessly, wandering through his snooze fest of a lesson.

  I grabbed the note and unfolded it under the guise of my notebook.

  Hey Paigey. How are you feeling after that horrible accident Saturday night? Any lingering injuries? I’d hate for you to get burned again. But when you’re playing with fire, that’s usually what happens.

  Of course Hannah wouldn’t be stupid enough to sign the note. She was the queen of no evidence.

  I refused to look back at her as I crumbled the note and placed it in my bag for safekeeping.

  White-hot rage shot through me like a geyser. How dare this girl treat me like this? She didn’t know me. She definitely didn’t know the tragedy I went through when my family died. And she had the nerve to joke about the fact that I’d been burned in a deadly fire? What a bitch. And I’d had e
nough. It was time to put her down.

  I vowed then and there not to let her ruin my relationship with Clay. What we had was beautiful. Neither of us was perfect alone, but we fit perfectly together, like two halves of a jagged broken heart being made whole again.

  I was almost sick at the way I had blown him off yesterday. Me losing Clay was exactly what Hannah wanted, and I wasn’t giving in. I was going to text him after class and apologize for pulling away from him. It wasn’t going to happen again.

  So I walked out of the building when class was over, thanking my stars that the professor hadn’t actually bored me to death and pulling out my phone. As I pulled up my contacts, I walked smack into someone heading up the building stairs.

  “Whoa,” he said, catching me before I fell down the steps.

  I looked up and straight into the impossibly blue eyes of my boyfriend.

  “Clay!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here? I was just about to text you.”

  “Oh, that’s good,” he said, smoothing a hand over his hair in the familiar gesture.

  He didn’t let go of me, keeping both hands on my waist as he looked down into my eyes.

  “Because I was worried you’d be pissed I decided to ignore your request for space. I missed you too much.”

  I looked up at him standing there in a plain gray tee shirt and jeans, looking for all the world like a Calvin Klein model. The fluttery wings of butterflies in my stomach erupted at the sight of him. I just wrapped my arms around him and squeezed.

  “Thanks for coming,” I sighed into his shoulder. He smelled like fresh air, pines, and Downy.

  “If I’m not with you, I’m always on my way to you,” he said simply, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.

  “Well, if it isn’t the lovely couple,” Hannah’s voice could have cut through diamonds as it came from behind us at the top of the steps.

  “Ignore her,” Clay told me, lifting my chin and looking into my eyes. “She mess with you in there today?”

  I nodded, patting my bag where I’d stashed the note. “Just a nasty note. Nothing compared to exploding cupcakes.”

  His face contorted with anger; he glared up at Hannah.

  “Guess a firework in a dessert wasn’t enough to show you two how wrong for each other you are. Man, I hope nothing worse happens,” Hannah drawled.

  “Got something you want to confess to, Hannah?” Clay asked.

  “Nope. Just one of the onlookers, like everyone else.”

  “Sure you were,” he spat.

  He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and turned us around. As we moved down the steps we heard Hannah shriek behind us.

  “Don’t you walk away from me, Clay Forbes!”

  Satisfaction radiated through me like sunbeams as we continued to glide away, hand in hand.

  Clay

  Walking away from Hannah when all I really wanted to do was yank that flaming hair of hers until she screamed took an enormous amount of strength and willpower. But I knew Paige wouldn’t want me to try and intimidate Hannah with physical force. I normally would never even consider hurting a female, but Hannah was pushing my buttons in ways I’d never imagined possible.

  “Do you have to work today?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Paige.

  “Okay if I walk you?”

  “Of course,” she replied.

  She stopped walking, turned around on the patterned brick sidewalk, and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling my face down to hers. She kissed me freely, and I realized I hadn’t even known she was holding something back before. Her lips were as tender as always, but there was no tentativeness, no uncertainty in their pressure.

  I pulled back, studying her face. “What’s changed?”

  “I have,” she answered. “I had an epiphany today.”

  I pulled out a strand of her dark hair, letting it slide between my fingers. “You did, huh?”

  “I did. I’m not going to let anything stand in our way anymore. I want you, so I’m going to have you.”

  “Oh, I like this epiphany. This may go down in history as the best epiphany ever.”

  She threw her head back and laughed, and all the sunshine in the world was aimed at my face at that moment.

  “So we’re okay then.” I just wanted to make sure.

  “We’re better than okay.”

  I kissed her again, just a meeting of our lips for a brief moment. Then I took her hand comfortably in mine and walked her to work.

  We stopped outside the office door.

  “Can I see you later tonight?” I asked.

  “I can make you dinner. Maybe you can bring Drew to surprise Gillian.”

  I laughed. “And would that be a pleasant surprise for Gillian?”

  The door opened suddenly and Paige’s boss, that creepy professor, was standing there.

  “I thought I heard you out here, Paige.”

  His booming voice about knocked me against the wall.

  “Oh, hi Professor,” she said. “I’m not late, am I?”

  “You won’t be as long as you come on in here and get to work! I have a lot of favors for you to fulfill today.” He shot a meaningful glance in my direction.

  What was this old guy’s deal? He was jabbing me about my girlfriend? Really?

  “Oh okay,” Paige said, glancing at me. “See you later tonight?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Come on then,” Dr. Schilling crooned.

  With one last look at me, she entered the office and the professor slammed the heavy door shut behind her.

  I stared at the door a second. I should nonchalantly suggest to Paige that she look for a different job. I doubted that would go over well. But I was going to keep an eye on that greasy professor.

  I walked home, my steps lighter than they’d been earlier. When I walked into my apartment, the smile on my face dissipated when I saw my mother sitting on the couch next to Rob.

  Thirty

  Clay

  “Mom?” I picked my jaw up off the floor long enough to croak out a greeting. “What are you doing here?”

  My relationship with my mother was complicated. She was in an extremely unhappy marriage with my father. They fought constantly, when he was home long enough for them to spark a disagreement about something. When my dad wasn’t home pressing my mother’s buttons or working in his home office, he was out with one of the revolving door of women he cheated with. So, needless to say, my mother focused all of her energy and attention on my sisters and I. Particularly me. It was because I was the youngest, and her only son.

  “What are you doing here?” I repeated, my voice a little stronger.

  “Oh honey,” she began. “I just had to come. That lovely girlfriend of yours—Hannah--called and told me you were having a hard time staying on the straight and narrow. She felt that you might need your mother, so I jumped in the car and drove nine hours just to make sure everything was alright.”

  I looked at Rob, feeling helpless. He shrugged and put both hands in the air in a “don’t look at me” gesture. Then he placed one finger by his head and waggled it in a circle. He quickly dropped his hand to his chest in faux scratching gesture when my mother looked at him.

  “Robert? Is everything okay?” she asked, aiming an ice cold glare at him.

  “Oh, yeah, Mrs. Forbes, everything is fine.”

  She stared at him a minute, then focused her attention back on me. I coughed deep in my throat.

  “So?” she asked.

  “So what?”

  “So where is that lovely Hannah? I haven’t seen her since Thanksgiving of last year.”

  I closed my eyes briefly in order to count to five. Last Thanksgiving, I brought Hannah home with me for the holiday to shut her up. She asked repeatedly if she could go home and meet my parents and I had managed to refuse her for two years. But I finally obliged her, caving one drunken night when I wanted the goods and she refused to give anything up unless I gave in.

  What an im
becile I was back then.

  In the Pre-Paige period of my life.