Hey! New story in the works - this time it's Closh! A little Clam in some parts, but it is a Closh-based story. I hope everyone enjoys it.
I do not own The Clique, it's settings, or divorce. I DO own the storyline, though.
Important note about the dates you will be seeing in this story: I am in the class of 2013. I wrote the timeline pretending that Claire and Josh were, too. That is how the dates were decided. They may seem far out and unrealistic at first, but they DO make sense.
Pay attention to the dates and years or you WILL BE CONFUSED!
Okay. We're done.
December 12, 2021
"You both agree to the terms of the divorce?"
Claire pursed her lips for a split second, forcing back any hesitation she may have had. This was over, done with. The man raised his eyebrows and held his hand firmly on the divorce papers, awaiting confirmation. The heat was blasting in this room and the chair was uncomfortable. She blinked.
She suddenly let her lips part slightly and cleared her throat. "Of course." Of course.
It was important that she make it clear she was okay with this before Josh did. She was the one who wanted this. Josh screwed up a hundred times and she was sick of it. They were getting divorced, and that hurt, but this was over. They were over.
Josh was quiet next to her, fidgeting slightly. The leather of his chair squeaked softly. This made Claire want to scream, but instead she just turned and stared at him. It was second nature, staring at him, picking apart his flaws. That's all she had seemed to do in the last few months of their marriage.
His hand was covering his eyes. He looked so tired. His hair needed cutting. His eyes were dull. His suit was new. When did he go suit-shopping? Who does that in the face of divorce? God. He would do that. "Hey, I'm getting a divorce, better buy a new suit!" Jesus.
"Sure," he mumbled. The man across from them looked skeptical. Clare stared at his unibrow, his slightly-yellowed teeth, and his dull eyes. Gross. She needed to get out of here. The room smelled stale and she felt dizzy. She needed a drink. She needed Josh to hurry the fuck up and just sign the goddamn papers. There was a Manhattan bar and a Long Island iced tea waiting for her. She felt her throat get tighter just thinking about the drink.
"'Sure' doesn't quite cut it, Mr. Hotz," the man explained. "You are signing away half of your assets. Before you put your signature on these papers, I need to know that you are completely sure and serious about this decision."
"Yes, I agree," Josh said irritatedly as he pulled the papers toward himself and practically engraved his signature on the dotted line. Claire waited patiently before signing her name in her loopy script. This was success. This was victory.
"There you go," Mr. Greenbow said with a tiny, pity-laced smile. "It's official."
She was gone before he even finished. Her heels click-clacked and she didn't turn around, or say goodbye.
Claire Lyons is twenty-six, and she just got divorced.
October 21, 2016
Josh Hotz did not expect to see Claire Lyons in the bedroom at that party - he hadn't expected anyone. All he knew was that his now ex-girlfriend, Alicia Rivera, was on a crazy rampage for his blood and he needed a place to lay low. He hated admitting that he was scared of someone like Alicia, but. . . he was.
So when he opens the door and slams it quickly, breathing rather heavily, he's fairly surprised to hear the sniffles.
"Hello?" he asks shakily. He feels paranoid, like this is one of those horror movies where the murderer knows exactly where you're going and beats you there. Like, The Strangers, or The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. "Who is it?" He's anxious, and his palms are sweaty.
"Josh? Is that you?" He doesn't think that it's Alicia; the voice is too soft. It doesn't have her anger, or her venom. Still, he's cautious.
"Uh . . . "
"It's Claire." She sniffs again, loudly, and then he can see her bright, platinum blonde hair, even though it's pitch black.
"Why are you in here?" he asks, not meaning to sound rude, but genuinely confused. "Cam is looking for you . . . "
"Ohmigod," she says then, and he can see her wipe her eyes. "He wasn't coming this way, was he?"
Josh shrugged. "I don't think so. He was pissed, though."
"I know." She takes a deep breath and seems sort of reassured.
The silence is irritating, as now Josh is dying to know why Claire's longtime boyfriend is pissed off and why she's hiding from him.
"You wanna know why I'm riding out the storm in this bedroom, right?" She wipes her nose again and sighs.
"Kinda." He decides to be honest - why not? He can only hope the story is halfway entertaining.
"Well me and Cam have been together for like ever, you know?"
"Like, since seventh grade."
"Right. And, uh, he proposed to me, at this really nice restaurant in Soho and I, uh, said no."
She says the rest in a rush, like if she doesn't she won't get all the words out, like she's racing her voice. He is shocked, and unafraid to show it. Cam is an egotistical loser who seems like a charmer because he's so "sensitive". Good for her. Josh can only wonder how big the ring was.
"Why? You guys are like the perfect couple." Josh feels stupid saying that, he really does, because obviously something was wrong if she said no to marriage.
"I - I just couldn't. He's great, really, but I think I'm just staying with him because it's comfortable, you know? I don't think I really love him anymore. Anyway, Massie told me to come down here and see some people, to feel better, but Cam followed and Massie left so I'm hiding." She sounds so small and pathetic at the end of her little speech that Josh sits on the floor next to her, leaning against the bed. She lays her head down and lets out a loud sob.
"I f-f-feel so baaaad!" she wails. Josh rapidly shushed her, gripped once again with the fear of Alicia finding him.
"And you're hiding, too, aren't you," she says, quieter than before, trying to bring down the all-out cryfest.
"Well, not really-"
"Josh, Alicia already told me she was looking for you, okay?"
He's quiet again, breathing slowly. God, this is fucked up. Alicia is crazy.
"Yeah, she's really mad." He realizes this is an understatement.
"She wants to kill you, huh?" Claire asks. Josh laughs, but it isn't really funny, probably because it's true.
"Yeah, she does."
"Why?"
He pauses. Claire is sensitive. She's one of those girls who wouldn't get it, right?
Then he remembers that he's never cared about pissing off a chick before and thinks, 'fuck it'.
"She's been dropping hints lately . . . like telling me her ring size, and leaving these Tiffany ads all over my dorm. So tonight I took her out and I was gonna dump her, but she thought I was gonna . . . "
"Oh my god, she thought you were ready to propose."
Claire sounds more surprised than horrified, so he feels okay.
"And I didn't, so she's the devil right now."
They sit there, taking in their stories for a while.
"We both ruined the futures of out significant others, didn't we?" Claire says, and then starts to laugh.
No, she's really laughing. The tears are coming again, but this time she lets them roll down her cheeks and laughs harder. Josh starts shushing her and then he's laughing too. She buries her face in his chest, attempting to muffle her giggles, but it's still pretty loud.
At around three in the morning, they both finally have the balls to sneak out of the door. Most of the people are gone - there's a topless girl on the couch and three guys passed out at her feet. The music is softer and the floor seems to have permanently taken on the style of "spilled margarita". Claire giggles again as they step over coffee tables and lamps.
He walks her back to her dorm and then makes his way over to his own. Before he falls asleep to the sound of Derrick Harrington's snoring, all he can think is that he might be a little bit in love with Claire Lyons. Which is so not a part of his plan.
