Claire's Song (19 page)

He walks by and stares both of us down like the sick person that he is. “Your time is coming, Andrews. Just wait, you’ll be begging to die.”

Claire stills at those words, her hand finding mine and weaving its way through. She looks at Darren with more determination than I’ve ever seen, her green eyes wide with hatred and anger. “Stay away from us,” she growls.

“Or what? You’ll make me want to kill myself? I can already tell you that I want to do that just by looking at you. Imagine what touching you would do?” Darren snaps, although he’s looking dead at me. I hear Claire’s sharp intake of breath and my fists clench even tighter, begging for blood. I start to go after him, my vision bleeding red. I want to beat the crap out of him, to make him pay. I push off the locker, Darren grinning now, pleased to have gotten me riled up. I hate that he used Claire to do it. Confusion sweeps through me, wondering if I’m doing the right thing by Claire. I know I‘m not. I know things will be worse for her when I’m gone.

“Ryder, don’t.”

A tug on my shirt pulls me back. It’s the slightest tug, but with all the force Claire can muster. Her eyes are pleading. I look back at Darren and I can see that he wants me to make the first move. He wants to get me in trouble. I can’t do that. As much as I want to, I can’t. Claire’s parents probably already think that I’m a lowlife, especially after living in a rundown trailer park with an abusive, meth head mother, but I won’t let them down by beating the crap out of this guy. At least not while on school property. If I see him anywhere else though, he's mine. I'll be the one showing no remorse.

Claire puts her arm through mine and leads me to first period. Lindy’s finally made her grand appearance, following closely behind us. Claire’s pace has picked up and we’re saying nothing. All I can hear are Darren’s taunts and the clicking of Lindy’s heels on the tile.

“Black Widow? Oh, Black Widow? Are you saving the job for yourself?” Lindy calls out in a singsong voice. Claire's grip on my arm tightens, but she doesn’t let go until we get to Mrs. Weathersby’s door.

“Did you hear me?” Lindy presses.

Claire’s ignoring her and I’m impressed. I can barely do it. What she’s doing to Claire is wrong and I can’t help but wonder what she gets out of it? Jacked up ego? What? Do her parents not love her enough?

“Leave, now. Go to the principal's office and wait there,” Mrs. Weathersby appears at the door, her gaze deadlier than ever and it’s directed at Lindy.

Lindy practically sneers at us and keeps walking. Mrs. Weathersby doesn’t say a word, but I wonder if it’s coming. We're the last two to enter the classroom, so instead she just shuts the door and starts teaching.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CLAIRE

I’ve decided that I’m going to wait until the Halloween Masquerade for my big move against Lindy and Darren. It won’t be amazing or cinematic, but it’s more than what I can do at school. The rest of the day goes by without incident and I don’t know which factor to contribute that to. Do I contribute it to Mrs. Weathersby who always seems to be around ever since she scolded Lindy? Is it Ryder who won’t leave my side? Or is it because I ignored Lindy? There's an old saying about that, that ignoring people often takes away some of their thunder and I hope that has something to do with it.

Ryder barely lets me out of his sight when I drop him off at the house to go to the costume store. I don’t need much, really, just ears and a tail. I even stopped off at the record store for some much needed business to be taken care of.  When evening comes, my parents go out for a date night, my idea, of course, leaving Ryder and me home alone.

"In My Veins" by Andrew Belle plays softly in the background. Actually, I have it on repeat because I've been obsessed with it lately. Perhaps some of the obsession stems from the sheer perfection of the song, perhaps some of it stems from the fact that it makes me think of Ryder. We're sitting on my bed, his legs stretched out while I sit cross-legged, both quiet, a comfortable kind of silence blanketing us.

The fall weather finally decided to kick in for the long haul, the coolness from outside seeping into my bones as I get up and grab a blanket from my closet. I wrap myself up in it and plop back on the bed, shaking Ryder and his work.

"Really?" He laughs as he reaches out his pencil to poke me. I don’t feel a thing through my burrito blanket self.

"Yes, really," I smile. "And don't try to poke someone with a pencil, boy," I continue and playfully reach over to snatch his pencil from him. I move closer, the smell of fresh laundry and something distinctly Ryder tickling my nose.

Ryder moves his pencil further out of my grasp and I have to move to my knees to try and grab it again. He moves back and I follow, completely knocking him flat onto the bed and into one of those awkward "Hey, I'm on top of you" moments. We're both frozen, my blanket fallen away, and the pencil long forgotten.

"This song reminds me of you a little bit," Ryder says so quietly that I can't be sure that I heard him correctly.

"Funny. I could say the same," I answer as I start to move off of him, feeling the blush basically tattoo itself to my face. And I'm pretty sure I'm sweating too.

Ryder's arms come around me gently, holding me firmly in place. He reaches out a trembling hand to push my hair behind my ears, the touch exhilarating and perfect. My stomach flutters, my heart speeds up as our gaze collides again.

"Oh yeah?" He's got that cocky smile on his face, one side of his lip tipping higher.

I nod in response, every single part of my body feeling like it's a livewire. I'm buzzing, waiting for the next move, the air between us electric.

"What if I told you that I think about kissing you way more than I should?" Ryder asks with a small smile, the cockiness faded.

I'm falling, falling, falling head over heels for someone that isn’t Jamie. The gentle way Ryder's holding me, his words, and the look in his eyes that tells me I matter to him, it's all I've ever wanted. And I have it.

"Then I'd ask why haven't you done it already?" I surprise myself by saying, my arms on either side of his head. He blinks a few times like he's checking to see if this is real. I almost want to pinch myself because I haven't felt like this in so long and even so, this feels so different. It feels right.

Ryder shifts a little, bringing me to his side, his hands on both sides of my face. The piercing way he's looking at me, the way he's dragging the entire thing out is driving me insane.

"You're perfect, Claire," he gives me a lopsided smile and then his lips are on mine moving fierce from the start. I'm alive and I feel it in every single fiber of my being. I'm finally awake, no longer sleepwalking through my days, no more Sleeping Beauty. This kiss means more than it should, more than I thought it would. Ryder's hands are on my shoulders, in my hair, and I can't think of anything but him, his shaggy hair, that laugh, those gorgeous blue gray eyes. I want to freeze this moment because I know that everything will change after this. Nothing has ever felt more perfect.

"Ryder," I breathe and pull away slightly. His eyes are unfocused a little and it gives me way too much pleasure to know that I'm responsible for that look. "I'm not perfect," I continue. Because I'm still a mess that struggles though life, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I struggled alongside Ryder. Isn't that what being human is about?

"You’re perfect for me, Claire. I should stay away, but I just can't," he answers and then his lips are on mine again, moving just as hungrily as before, both of us desperate for each other's touch.

After what feels like forever, we grudgingly break apart and Ryder lies back on the pillow that Jamie used to lay on. I see Jamie for a moment and then blink my eyes and he's gone. He can't be mad at me. He wouldn’t be. He told me to find a guy who would treat me like I'm everything. I think Ryder would do it. I think Jamie would like him. And that's what matters most.

Ryder's arms are wrapped around me, one hand rubbing soft circles around my shoulder. “You know that song I sang for you the other night?” He asks. His hands still for a moment.

I nod.

“It was for you.”

I move so I can look at him and his shaggy hair is brushed past his eyes, those perfect, wonderful eyes. He’s looking at me, his expression a mixture of excitement and fear. It feels like the world has just slipped out from beneath my feet, that I’m floating, falling, all of those things, that these feelings for Ryder just keep expanding and growing, and then he tells me this. When he sang that song for me, I felt jealousy because I wanted it to be about me. I didn't want to hear a song expounding on the feelings he has for another girl. As I recall those lyrics, my heart swells. The perfect boy has written the perfect song, for me. My heart is still beating erratically and I smile a smile so big that I swear it stretches across my entire face.

“You’re lying,” I joke even though I can see in his expression that he's not.

He grins, “You know I’m not.”

“I know." I pause a moment, my blush deepening. "I've always wanted someone to write a song for me,” I admit, still smiling like a goofy idiot.

This moment is absolute perfection, the steady rising of Ryder's chest, the way we fit perfectly together, his lips on mine, the way he lights me up from the inside. I just want to freeze everything, to remember every tiny detail, right down to Ryder's amazing smile. I want this to be the moment I look back on when I'm having a bad day, when I worry, when I feel like it's too hard.

“Will you play it again for me soon?” I ask.

Ryder nods, “Absolutely.”

A thought strikes me, something I'd forgotten to tell him earlier. "I have great news for you! I can't believe I forgot!" I move so I can see his face and it's completely at ease, contentment alight in his eyes. I should be more restrained, but I'm not, at least not anymore, so I lean forward and kiss his nose.

He gives me a smile as he fingers my hair. "What?"

"I got you a gig! I heard someone talking about it at the record store, so I signed you up!" My excitement is fueled by making him happy, by making him smile.

Ryder's reaction is not what I expected. Instead, his eyes darken and his body goes rigid. He doesn't look at me, but rather over my shoulder.

"When is it?" he asks, his voice completely devoid of any emotion.

I move to get a better look at him because he refuses to meet my gaze. His hands fall from my body and I suddenly feel cold.

"What's up with you Ryder?" I snap.

He sits up and rubs a hand over his face. "Nothing. I'm sorry, Claire. It's really nothing."

He's lying. It's all over his face and in his eyes. But I let it slide. For now.

"It's the first weekend in December at Midtown's. You go on at eight." I pause and notice how feverishly Ryder's working his jaw. "I thought you wanted to do this. I can cancel it if you want me to."

Ryder slides back onto the pillows and crosses his hands over his chest. "Yeah, I want it." His eyes are on the ceiling and I swear the look in them could make everything come tumbling down. "But you're right. I'm sorry. It's just…sooner than expected and I'm not ready…" After exhaling loudly, he pulls me over to him and kisses my head. "Sorry. I just…you know how I get."

"I know," I try to be okay, but I also know how Jamie used to get and well, I don't have to say the rest. 

RYDER

It's too soon. I don't want to leave her yet. I want to stay here, to prolong all the senseless plans in my mind, to forget it all, but it's easier said than done. I try to push all that crap out my mind and think only about the girl by my side, to just live in the now, to appreciate these little moments, these little bursts of light in my darkness.

Claire is freaking amazing and everything I've ever wanted. And she likes me for some crazy reason. I feel like a prick for not thanking her for setting up the show for me, but how can I?
Hey, thanks for helping me get closer to the day I'm going to end it all.
No, I can’t really say that. So I don't.

"You’ll be at the show, though, right?" I blurt out like an idiot. Might as well make the most of it. I've already gotten too close and I can't stop myself. I feel guilty asking her to be there, to hear the last song I’ll ever write but at least it’s to her.

Her head shoots off my chest. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world! I’m only your biggest fan.” She studies my face like she can’t believe I’m real. After a few tense moments, she finally speaks again and I can sense the change in the air, in her. “Will you leave me too?” she asks, her face darkening. I know where her mind is going and I can’t let her go there, not now, not when we should make the most of our time together.

"Claire," I whisper as I brush her hair back from her face. Her eyes refuse to leave mine.

"Ryder?" She asks softly, still waiting for my answer.

Crap.
Crap.
I'm really going to do this to this girl. I never wanted to lie to her, all innocence and perfection, but I do. I add another lie to the ones stacking up. 

"Of course not," I answer. Claire searches my eyes and I'm afraid that she'll find the lies buried beneath them.

"Good," she smiles sadly and then lays her head back on my chest.

We lay like that, listening to music play in the background, no words needing to be spoken, for a long time, but not long enough. When we hear the garage door open we break apart and I get up and kiss her, long and sweet, then head for the door. Claire smiles at me when I look back at her and that look burns itself into my mind, along with everything else we just shared. 

I hear her parents come up the stairs as soon as I've made it to my room. I pull out my notebook and get to work on my final song. I scratch out lines and rewrite them a million times, nothing feeling quite right tonight. The only thing that did, the only thing that ever has, is Claire. I give up and lay back on my bed.