Random stuffers. But I like Nikki - in a weird way. And I'm not a huge fan of Cam. Or crying-about-Cam Claire.
You finally get to meet Claire Lyons two years after that Myspace update, that last call, the final surrender.
She's beautiful, but you always knew that. Your friends tried to cheer you up by saying things like "She's a blond bimbo!" and "She probably doesn't deserve him!" but you always knew - she's quiet and cool and confident and is going to be an actress. You always knew that.
Your ribs are now finally, finally hidden by lean muscle and yes, some fat, because it took a year and half to gain that weight to be, what your father finally agreed was - healthy.
Sometimes, you search for Cam Fisher on Facebook. It's a relief, now, that you can wonder what you ever saw in him. That you aren't so in love with him any more that you'll stop eating for three days at a time.
Claire's skinny, and that observation doesn't evade you. She's also blond, with eyes that seem to be a cross between Cam's blue and greens. You find this odd, in a way, and think you'll mention it if there's an awkward silence.
She smiles easily and doesn't shake your hand, instead pulling you into a hug. You feel warm and whole under her skinny arms.
"Nikki," she breathes, and you wonder how much growing she's done over the last two years. Maybe as much as you?
"Claire," you say, but it isn't thin and wispy like her words, it's strong and abrupt and your voice is clear, like ice-cold water amongst the petals of a parched rose.
"So of all people for you to become friends with, Dylan Marvil was the girl?" She shakes her head softly at this and you decide to admit to tell her that it's no coincidence.
"We were in the same class. Or, group meetings, if you will. Therapy. For eating disorders."
She stops, suddenly, her chest isn't moving and her eyes aren't blinking and you worry that you shouldn't have said anything.
"Oh," she mumbles, and you want to hug her again.
"All for Cam Fisher," you say. A year ago, you would have been bashful to admit that it was a boy who got you to do that. The stereotypical teenage girl, anorexic because she was desperate for some guy to love her. You aren't shameful any more, though.
She nods like she isn't surprised. "I know. I pretended to like Drakkar Noir. And I got back together with him, even when I found out that he was re-gifting your stuff."
You think of the irony of the whole situation. You sent Cam Fisher all your leftover candy - a sign that you would do anything for him - and he gives it to his girlfriend. You want to laugh and cry about this at the same time.
"The things we did for Cam Fisher. And what was so great about him?" These words are spoken with a certain peace, so you know that she isn't bitterly spitting this out. You know that she's happy and merely pondering her past decisions.
"Hey," you say, trying to shed some humor, "he had a leather jacket. And his brother drove a Mustang. What girl didn't have a crush moment?"
The two of you chuckle at this, then walk out of the entryway to the Marvil's Estate, joining the rest of the slumber party in the expansive basement.
"I'm hungry," Claire says. "I'm thinking popcorn. With lots of butter. And some cool seasonings."
You nod at this, the smile growing wider with every step. "Sounds delicious."
She isn't a bitch and she deserved so, so much more than Cam Fisher ever could have given her. You get this. You always did, in a way, even though your adolescence blinded you temporarily. Claire isn't perfect either, you soon learn. She eats too many sweets and sometimes is too soft-spoken and isn't always very strong, but you can live with that too.
The imperfections weave, creating a ribbon that someday someone will love, even with the problems and secrets and hardships.
You can only hope that your ribbon is just as pretty, catching the sunlight, making some boy's dream come true.
So odd. And random. I don't get where this came from, but I hope you liked it. Reviews are appreciated.