Claire's Song (13 page)

            "To the quad?" I ask, offering my arm out to her. She nods and we make our way outside to the exact spot we found ourselves that first time we worked on our Lit class project. Claire sits down, trying to mask the pain she's in, and I hand her the paper bag.

            "Thanks," she smiles.

            A thought strikes me and I say it before I think it through and realize how random it sounds. "You got plans Friday?"

            Claire freezes mid bite, the apple still touching her lips. "Why?"

            I shrug, "We’ve had a heck of a week and I think we need to get out, to do something."

            She watches me like I'm playing a joke on her and she's waiting for the punch line. Finally she speaks, "I don't really go out a lot anymore." Her gaze drop to the grass.

            "Neither do I, but we can change that. Come on, Claire. I heard about a low key concert that's less than thirty minutes away from here."

            Claire perks up like one of those meerkats and it's freaking adorable. I hate myself for noticing and for turning into a lovesick pansy. "Really? That might be fun."

            "Then it's settled."

            She nods. "When are you going to play your own concert?" Claire asks after we've eaten in silence.

            My stomach sinks because I know what that concert means. "Um, not quite sure. Whenever I get someone interested, I guess." The doubt creeps in. Do I want someone to become interested?

            Claire taps her finger on her chin, her gaze moving to the trees alongside the bricks. "I propose a trade," she finally speaks, her eyes shining and her lips turned up in an impish grin. She pauses for dramatic effect and then she slowly rocks onto her knees, a small wince crossing her face before she places her hands in front of her on the plush grass. "I'll agree to hang out with you Friday if you'll play for me when we come back."

Playing guitar has always been a private thing for me, a way to release the aggression and other crap that bothers me, what the cutting doesn't help. No one has ever really cared to hear me play. I'm tempted to tell her no, but then as I look at her I know I want to spend Friday night with her more than anything.

"Fine. It's a deal," I manage, trying to avoid her stare. The sun starts shining brighter, breaking through the clouds, the cool fall air unaffected.

Claire scoots closer to me and throws her arms around my neck. I can hear her gasp from the injury, but she still tightens her grasp on me. "I think it'll be fun."

I let my hands wander into her hair and the smell of vanilla envelops me. This girl will either be the death of me or be the very reason I breathe.

CHAPTER TWELVE

CLAIRE

            Wednesday continued on without any more drama, as did the rest of the week. One major reason for that was the fact that Lindy was missing in action. It's amazing how people act without their ringleader. On top of that, Mrs. Weathersby had seen to it that Darren was suspended from school and kicked off the football team.

            I stand at my mirror to finish my makeup while Walk the Moon's "Anna Sun" is blaring as loud as my speaker can go. I can't help but dance around and sing the lyrics at the top of my lungs even if it slows down progress. My hair looks decent, my makeup is low key, as usual, and I'm wearing a gray oversized sweater, leggings, with my black combat boots. It says, "Hey, this isn't a date, but I'm still cute." I don't want to overdo it, but to be honest, if it weren't for this song, I'd be overanalyzing everything, worrying too much.

            As the chorus kicks in, I hop around the room, the pain in my ribs finally subsided. I sing to Jamie's picture and for the first time in a long time, it doesn't feel sad, but I know the feeling is fleeting.  I try to imagine Jamie laughing at me, to prolong the momentary happiness. After all, Jamie always said I was feisty. I dance and sing until the song is over, then realize it's time to go.

            "That's a great song," Ryder says from the staircase.

            I freeze in my tracks as I take in the sight of him. He's wearing a plaid button up with the sleeves rolled, the most perfect fitting jeans I've ever seen, and his black Converses. His hair is brushed back from his eyes and he looks amazing. My heart does a flip when he smiles at me and I don't miss the fact that he totally checks me out- I mean full body scan.

            "And your rendition was equally excellent," he laughs.

            "Hey," I joke as I swat at the back of his head.

            "I'm just saying. I could hear it all the way in my room," Ryder continues as we go out the door and to his car. I offered to drive mine, but he just looked wounded so I relented. I pray that it will get us there without breaking down on the side of the road in the middle of the night.

            Smashing Pumpkins “Today” almost bursts our eardrums when Ryder cranks up the car. He looks at me sheepishly as he turns it down, “Sorry.”

            “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.