Clay had started off angry but when I had begun to cry it was like the flick of a light switch. Clay had softened, seeing how badly he had hurt me. He had hugged me and told me he loved me, apologizing for his attitude. I melted into his arms like I always did, desperate for things to be as they were.
But they weren't. Not by a long shot. Clay was mad all the time and I had no idea how to help him. Eventually Clay stopped coming to lunch, leaving school around mid day. I didn't know where he went. He would never say. He would only tell me not to worry so much. But of course I worried. That's all I did anymore, was worry. And cry. Then worry some more.
I had defied my parents' grounding after a few more days of this miserable existence. I decided to head to Clay's house after school. My heart sank when I saw his parents' car in the driveway. My palms started to sweat as I made my way to the front door.
I knocked and waited. No one came to the door. I had knocked again. Finally Clay had answered. He looked like hell. There were dark circles under his eyes, his skin was pasty and his clothes were rumpled as though he had slept in them.
What was worse, was he looked less than thrilled to see me. “What are you doing here?” He bit out, looking over his shoulder. I tried to peer behind him to see what had had him so skittish, but he blocked my path. “I was worried about you. I wanted to make sure you were alright.” I said softly. I tried to reach out and touch him but he moved away from me.
“Well, I'm just fucking dandy. You can leave now.” He tried to close the door in my face but I stuck my foot out to stop it from shutting. “Clay. Stop shoving me away! How can you treat me like this after everything we've been through?” I pleaded, feeling those annoying tears slide down my face yet again.
I saw a momentary crack in his cold facade. His eyes softened and I thought, just maybe, I had reached him. But he slammed the wall back down and his face hardened. “I'm tired of everyone's support.” He spat out, looking at me with disdain. “Stop worrying about me. I don't need your pity or your concern.”
I opened my mouth to argue with him some more. I couldn't let him push me away like that. But then I saw Mrs. Reed come down the hallway. She came up behind Clay and put her hand on his shoulder. He tensed, as though waiting for a blow. “Aren't you going to ask your friend inside, Clayton? It's Marcia, isn't it?” She said condescendingly. She knew my name, she was just being a bitch.
I didn't have a chance to correct her before Clay nudged my foot out of the door jam. “No, she's just leaving. In fact, I think we're done here.” He looked at me then and I couldn't swallow around the lump in my throat.
He was done? Did that mean what I thought it meant? “Clay. What are you saying?” My voice had left me, all I could do was whisper as the pain lanced through my body. I hated that we were having this discussion with his evil, harpy of a mother two feet away. She watched us the whole time and I couldn't miss the malicious triumph on her face.
“Just what I said, Maggie. I'm done. So don't come around here again!” He told me forcefully. Had he really just broken up with me? In front of his fucking mother? I got angry then. “You asshole!” I breathed, clenching my fists at my side.
“Clay, it's time for dinner. Hurry up with Marcia so you can eat.” Mrs. Reed flashed me a cold smile and went back down the hallway. Clay glared at me. “You just couldn't leave well enough alone. Are you happy now?” He seethed. “Fuck you, Clay! I've done nothing but love you! But you really are a selfish prick. Screw my feelings, right? It's the Clayton Reed, self-destruct show. And you're right. We are done. I don't need any more of your abuse!” I turned on my heel and left, feeling like my heart had just been ripped out of my chest.
The anger got me home but then it transformed into gut wrenching depression. Clay and I were over and I had no real idea why. The reality of what had happened sank in and I had cried myself to sleep.
After that I became a shell of the person I used to be. I barely ate. I hardly slept. I never talked to my friends. I declined Rachel and Daniel's invitations to get together once my grounding was lifted. I half listened to their conversations at lunch time. I stopped waiting for them after school, instead choosing to get to my car as fast as possible so I could get home and lock myself in my room.
“You are going to tell me what is going on with you and you are doing it now!” Rachel said angrily as she grabbed my arm as I tried to slink down the hallway, unnoticed, to my locker. It had been five days since I had gone to Clay's house. Five days since I had spoken to or seen him. I didn't even know if he had shown up to school. And I felt like living was becoming increasingly more difficult. How could someone endure this much pain and survive?
“Nothing's going on.” I mumbled, trying to pull out of her grasp. “Yeah right! You've become the walking dead! So unless your brains have been eaten by zombies, something sure as hell is going on and you're going to spill it!” Daniel said from my other side. The two of them took me by my arms and half dragged me to the library.
I heard the bell ring, signaling the end of lunch. I had eaten in the girl's bathroom, wanting to avoid this very conversation. I should have known they would find me. I couldn't even appreciate how much they cared about me. Because right then I was unable to think beyond the gaping hole in my chest.
“We've got to get to class. We'll be late.” I argued feebly. Daniel drug me into the library, moving to the back of the stacks where we'd have some privacy. “Screw class. Our best friend is in full on melt down. That trumps geography any day.” Rachel replied, sitting me down in a chair and taking her place beside me.