by Winter Page
Eventually, I had told them everything I knew and gave them my mom’s phone number. My parents were once again out of town with Zach. The fit my mother threw over the phone was audible halfway across the room.
While I was grateful for her mama-bear response, I didn’t feel up to dealing with the drama just now and turned down an offer to talk with her. I was tired and I hurt and I just wanted to relax and breathe in the smell of paint and pastels for a while in the art room. As if she knew that without my having to tell her, Clare ushered the adults from the room with a promise that she would stay with me until I got home safely.
She closed the door with a sigh of relief.
I smiled wearily at her.
Comically, she brushed her hand across her brow. I wanted to laugh, but I was too rattled. Clare took a hard look at me and switched the lights off as if she knew how much my head hurt and how painful those bright lights were. She crossed the room with long purposeful strides and wrapped her arms around me in a huge hug.
“I’m so sorry, Rain,” she murmured.
I tried to smile, to tell her it wasn’t her fault, but opening my mouth made my split lip burn with pain, and I just winced instead. Clare stepped back and started dabbing at my cheeks with something she found in the first aid kit.
“Why do you call me Rain?” I asked gingerly, moving my lips as little as possible. I figured there would never be a better time to ask her.
She kept dabbing at my slow seeping tears, and I looked out the long wall of windows overlooking the football field. Brad had spent countless hours on that field. And now he was going to be charged with several crimes up to and including illegal substance abuse. I tried to picture the little boy who had been Clare’s first kiss. For some inexplicable reason, I hoped that boy was still inside him, somewhere.
I shuddered at the thought of how much people could change. Luckily, Clare was there to shake me from those dark thoughts.
“Why do I call you Rain?” she repeated.
I nodded solemnly.
Clare busied herself with taking care of me and held an ice pack to my chin. “Because someone as pretty as you needs an equally pretty name to suit them.” Her voice was hushed as snow fell outside the window. I shivered a little at how cold and beautiful it was.
Clare stared straight into my eyes and whispered, “I love you, Raimi.”
Hearing her say my name felt foreign, different, and completely right. I reached out and put my hand on her cheek. I smiled, my thumb running along her cheekbone.
“I love you too, Clare.”
We just stood there like that for a while. Her holding an ice pack to my wrecked face, my hand resting on her perfect cheek. We didn’t move until someone finally knocked on the door to check on us again. Nervously. My mom must have really put the fear of God into the principal.
“Just take me home,” I mumbled.
“You got it.” She put her arm around my shoulder, and I looped mine around her waist.
When we got to the parking lot, she turned to me. “Whose car is comfier, yours or mine?”
I thought for a moment. “Neither. The comfiest car on the planet is my mom’s SUV.”
“We’ll take my car, then. We’re going back to your house. I’m going to call your mom and convince her to let us go on a little road trip, and you aren’t going to ask any questions,” Clare said sternly.
I raised my eyebrows at her. “Okay, then….” I said wryly.
Her giggle made my heart squeeze.
There was a really big part of me that just wanted to break down, cry, and remember the awfulness that had just happened to me. But there was another part of me that wanted to dive into wherever Clare was going to take us. I didn’t want to know where we were going, how we were going to get there, or how long it would take to get there. I just wanted to leave with Clare. I wanted to be with her and let go of reality for a little while.
So I did.
Twenty
I STUDIED Clare suspiciously. What the heck was she up to?
She met my look evenly. “Give me the phone, Rain. You know you want to. Just hand it over, and this won’t hurt a bit.”
I snorted skeptically.
“We can either do this the easy way or the hard way,” she teased. “Really, it’s up to you. But I am going to end up with that phone in my hand.”
She was a cheerleader, after all, and could throw girls my size fifteen feet over her head and catch them on the way back down. I laughed and handed over my phone as she closed the front door of my parents’ house behind her. She pressed the green call button, and we waited anxiously for my mom to pick up. Clare put a finger to her mouth to hush me and started speaking,
“Hi, Mrs. Carter, it’s Clare. Yes, I’m with her now, and she’s fine. Well, not fine, but she’ll live.”
She paused to listen for a minute. “Of course, I’ll tell her.” Then as promised, Clare said to my mom, “I need to talk with you for a minute. I wanted to run an idea by you.” She started to back away from me. I tried to follow, but she waved me back as she ducked into my dad’s study.
I threw my hands up impatiently, and she blew me a silent kiss through the doorway. I sighed, pushing away the hair that had fallen in my face as Clare closed the door to my dad’s study behind her. What da heck?
I desperately fought an urge to eavesdrop. It helped, though, that I felt like crap. I ended up lying down on the living room sofa to await the verdict from my mom.
Clare finally emerged from the office and smiled at me brightly. “It was a hard sell, but she bought my plan. Pack anything you need for a five-day road trip. Maybe six. Depending on how you feel. Your mom made me promise not to push you too hard.” She winked, her words bright and excited.
“A five-day what?” I exclaimed.
Her laughter tinkled through the air musically. “A five-day road trip, honey. Are you telling me you’ve never experienced the grueling automobile trek of our people?”
I shook my head gingerly. I thought she was going to smack me in her shock.
“Well, we’ll just have to fix that now, won’t we?” she scolded.
I smiled tiredly, and she twirled a piece of my hair between her fingers. “C’mon. Let’s go pack.”
She kissed me on the forehead and then led me toward the stairs. It felt really nice to be taken care of like this. So often, I was the one caring for the people I loved and not the other way around.
TWO HOURS later, we were both packed. Luckily, I had some clothes that both fit her body and her taste. It had been a struggle, though, believe me.
Clare surveyed our handiwork carefully. “I think we might be ready to go.”
I nodded. We could live out of these bags for easily double our estimated trip time, but one can never be too prepared. And plus, it wasn’t like my mom’s huge SUV was going to run out of room anytime soon. I couldn’t believe Clare had talked my mom into letting us take her car for our trip.
Clare beamed at me as we hauled our stuff down the stairs. “I would suggest we get any last minute restroom stops out of the way now. We have almost two thousand miles to cover in the next two days if the Internet is correct.”
I about fell over. “Two thousand miles?” I squeaked incredulously.
She nodded and shot me a look that said she had no idea what the big deal was. “I’ll drive. You can sleep the whole time.”
I started to pinch the bridge of my nose but stopped as my fingers encountered a bandage and tender flesh. This relationship would seriously never cease to amaze me. I highly doubted Clare would ever be low maintenance. At all. Ever. And that was one of the things I loved most about her.
WE BRAKED to a stop in front of Clare’s house. I squeezed her hand, and she took a deep breath before she opened the driver’s side door. She told me that her dad wasn’t supposed to be home until a lot later, and that her mom was usually passed out by now. I sincerely hoped she was right. I waited nervously for her to return, blasting the heat, and fi
ddling with the car’s radio to distract myself.
When she emerged from her house, I was glad to see a tentative smile plastered over her face. The closer she got to the SUV, the more her shoulders relaxed back into her normal posture.
So of course, right as she climbed in, her dad’s car just had to turn onto this street. I ducked down beneath the dash, and she immediately peeled away from the curb. I didn’t need her dad glaring at me with hatred in his eyes. I’d had enough of being hated on for one day.
He must not have seen Clare because he didn’t follow us or send the police after us. That was all that mattered to me at that point. When our SUV had finally merged safely onto the freeway, Clare let out a breath I hadn’t known she was holding.
“We did it. We did it,” she whispered to herself.
I giggled nervously. “Of course, we did.”
She nodded absentmindedly, withdrawn almost, changing the setting on the radio that I had dialed in not ten minutes before.
I sighed. “Is my taste in music really that bad?”
Clare looked over at me blankly, blinking a few times like she was just now waking up from a dream. I alternated between looking at the road and trying to decipher what was going on in her mind.
Maybe fifteen minutes passed before I tried talking with her again. I kept my eyes on the highway this time, though. I figured if I gave her some space, it would be easier for her to open up and talk about whatever had happened in her house just now. Because something had definitely changed from when she went in to when she came out of that hellhole.
“What did you tell your mom?” I said flatly. I winced. My voice had not been what I wanted it to be. “Sorry that sounded rude,” I added hastily. “I just meant, what happened? You did a complete one-eighty personality flip in under five minutes.”
“Nothing happened, surprisingly. Mom was passed out on the couch instead of her bed, but that was the only noticeable thing out of the ordinary. I just went in, grabbed my toothbrush and credit card, and left.”
Clare’s voice was emotionless and impossible to get a read on. My brow creased in confusion. I didn’t get a chance to ask her any more questions. She got busy navigating lane changes and exits as we approached the urban sprawl of New York City. It was peaceful just being in the car with her like this. But it also felt empty, like something was missing.
One thing stuck out to me, though. Clare had flinched and her face paled the minute it starting snowing. Eventually, the snow turned into a sad slush-like substance that wasn’t quite sleet, wasn’t quite snow, and definitely wasn’t hail.
Something was wrong with Clare. And the only thing I could hope to do was be there for her if and when she ever wanted to talk about it with me. I prayed that time was coming soon. I was tired of barriers and secrets between us.
Twenty-One
WE PULLED in at a ratty-looking motel around ten o’clock that night after driving for a little under six hours. To say I was exhausted wouldn’t quite cover it. Clare paid quietly for our room with her credit card. I eyed her carefully.
“Are you sure you’re allowed to be using that thing?” I said incredulously. She gave me a little half laugh.
“Daddy gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday. Brad and I had been together for a year, and this was my reward for—I don’t know, not screwing up my relationship as badly as my dad did. Anyway, there’s no way he would cut me off from this thing. It’s one of the only reminders he has left from my days in the oh-so-wonderful closet.”
I shook my head. Family dynamics are interesting little things.
With that lovely thought swirling around in my mind, Clare and I trudged up two flights of stairs to our room. Let me stress how out of date this motel was. It didn’t have an elevator, even though it had like six floors. The logic behind that actually had me giggling moronically as Clare and I unlocked our room. Clare didn’t say a word, just sprawled herself over one of the beds and ordered room service. I was asleep on my own bed before the food even got there.
That’s how tired I was. Food couldn’t even motivate me to stay awake.
I WOKE up around ten the next morning. I shuffled blearily into the bathroom, stumbling over our suitcases in the process. I let my head loll back in the shower, rubbing my neck to try to get some of the knots out. Steam rose around me lazily as the water pounded out some of my soreness left over from Brad’s fists. I reached out a hand and traced one of the opaque tendrils. I started to worry about Clare and immediately decided it would be better to just not think at all. It was easier, at least.
When I finished my shower, I dressed and went back out into the room. Clare had turned on the TV and ordered pancakes and waffles while I was showering. She smiled bleakly up at me.
“A few messages came through on your phone,” Clare said cautiously.
I nodded, picking my phone up gingerly. They were all from Brad. I snorted and deleted all of them. I couldn’t remember the last time I actually opened anything from him.
Clare rose silently and grabbed a pile of clothes. She closed the bathroom door behind her quietly. When I heard the click, I relaxed tension in my shoulders I didn’t know I had been holding.
My spidey senses were tingling over Clare. I could almost see the walls she was putting up around her. The thought of it made me nauseous. I ate my breakfast in silence, the drone of a local news station filling my ears. I let myself drown in the emptiness, letting go of everything else for now. Sometimes being numb is a nice change of pace. I put on a little makeup to cover my blossoming bruises and pass the time. The minutes slipped by like quicksand, and without meaning.
EVENTUALLY, CLARE emerged from her shower, steam rolling along the carpet when she opened the door. She picked up her things without speaking and left the room. I hurried after her, not bothering to turn off the TV. We drove quietly, only stopping to grab food and then keep going. I felt good enough to take a few turns at driving so Clare could take naps. My mom called every other hour like clockwork to check on us, but other than those calls, we were mostly silent.
We spent that night at a slightly nicer motel. The ice cream bar in the lobby was a divine gift, and after eating our body weight in frozen yogurt, we turned in late.
When we woke up, Clare and I took our time getting ready, not rushing anything. We only had about a six-hour drive left to our final destination, and Clare said we could only do what she had planned after 4:00 p.m.
I speculated endlessly over the possibility of what it could be. The first time Clare’s face had lit up in forty-eight hours was when I tried to guess, to no avail, where we were headed.
“Is it… a monkey?” I teased.
Clare laughed genuinely. “Yes, Rain, I totally got you a monkey. Guess again.” She rolled her eyes, and I grinned despite myself.
“Are we going to a zoo?” I guessed. She shook her head again. I sighed. And then a sign came into view. I started to laugh.
“We’re in Colorado. We’re in freaking Colorado!” I threw my head back and just laughed, even though that probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do when you’re driving along a major highway. Clare broke out into a huge smile and beamed at me.
I hummed softly to myself until she broke into my melody. “Here’s your interesting yet trivial fact for the day, Rain. Colorado has no restrictions on minors getting tattoos.”
I about lost control of the car. “Oh. My. God,” I whispered.
Clare snickered. “I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank’ and ‘you.’”
I shook my head, completely taken aback. “Life is never dull with you, is it?”
Her smile grew even bigger. “Nope.”
Twenty-Two
WE PULLED into the tattoo parlor parking lot, and I felt my stomach sinking and my heart rising into my throat. I’m pretty sure I started hyperventilating.
Clare just grinned at me. “Are you telling me you’ve never wanted a tattoo? What are you, a nun?”
I gave a short ba
rk of nervous laughter. She reached across the SUV as I parked it carefully. She took my hand in hers and squeezed firmly.
“Everything is going to be just fine,” she leaned over to whisper in my ear, her breath tickling my neck. I blushed furiously. No matter how long I was around her, no matter how many times she kissed me, she always had a way of making me shiver. I hoped that would never go away.
My phone buzzed, and I ignored it. Clare bit her lip and smiled playfully at me. “You should get that.”
Her lips met mine and everything felt normal again. In an adrenaline kind of way. Her free hand knotted in my hair, and my free hand found her neck. It was awkward kissing over the console, but we made it work. Just when I thought the moment was absolutely perfect, voices met our ears.
We turned to look out the fogging windshield and saw a group of three boys. They were whistling and catcalling at us. Clare’s face flushed with anger, her hand falling from my hair and clenching into a fist.
I looked at the boys and back at her again. Then I leaned over and kissed her again. She was stiff and surprised, but eventually she relaxed. I let my hair fall in front of me so that the boys couldn’t see my lips move tenderly against hers.
“Don’t let them get to you. They’re just jealous because you’re so hot.”
She snorted. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. Still, I don’t want to let them see us. It feels wrong,” she explained.
I shook my head and kissed the spot just below her ear, murmuring, “Love is love, Clare. And love is never wrong.”
When we got out of the car, I immediately took her hand, apprehension already choking my throat. I felt my heart stutter in my chest like a bird taking its first flight. Clare clung to my side, reassuring me the entire way. The boys were still watching us, but that wasn’t high on either of our priority lists at the moment.