Tryin' to get back into the swing of Fanfiction here, lol. It's been awhile. Enjoy.

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"It's hard to watch people change right in front of you. But the worst part is remembering who they used to be."

- Unknown

Clare Edwards

A silver band wraps its arms around a girl's ring finger. It glares up at her through white light and metal, and it burns itself into her skin. It clings desperately to the flesh that it used to feel accustomed to. It senses the constant glance of blue eyes, attempts to ignore the occasional twist in position when the girl fumbles with it.

There's contemplation in everything she does now. Thought to taking a risk. Consideration to letting go.

And the ring shivers.

Maybe, it's time to be forgotten.

Clare Edwards is good at that, after all. She does a fine job denying feelings, memories – anything that might bring realization. She avoids it all. Today is a rainy day, and the sky is dampening, dulling, fading into nothing. She can't grasp thoughts on days like today, and that's just the way she likes it – nothing to be revealed in the sky.

Rainy days are Clare's favorite times.

Vapor mists in the air, lingering as though waiting for her. She inhales deeply and lets the condensation form on the inside of her throat. The ground is wet and soggy; the earth gives in more and more with every dainty step she takes. It might be drizzling, but the canopy of trees overhead is guarding her from the falling droplets.

Jake is waiting for her beyond the small clearing. The career fair has monopolized every square inch of the school's parking lot, and the whole block is now stretching with cars of irritable students left to walk in the rain.

Jake has parked a long ways down the road, though the distance is short when one cuts through the far grounds of campus. He told her that over the phone moments ago when she called to ask where he had parked his car – and she didn't tell him that she already had knowledge of this short cut. She also didn't protest, though her heart ached and her mind pounded with the thought of walking down this path again.

She would ache and pound more if she had to explain it to Jake.

Now, her black flats sink into the mud and her yellow fingernails tug at the edges of her jean jacket as she trudges on over the soaked earth.

She's spent the last five minutes attempting to think of ways to avoid the upcoming structure without remembering what it represents, but as the form begins to surface near the top of the hill she's traveling up, she realizes she's been unsuccessful in both ways.

The trees part above it, leaving the bench's ash wood stained dark from the water. She can't remember ever seeing it this lonely and abandoned, and she can't help but perch lightly on the driest area of it, resting her arms over the dampened surface.

"Which one of you wants to be Romeo?"

She sighs, remembering the glow that sparked over Adam's face when she referred to him as an option for the male in the situation – and smirks at the abrupt answer from the opposite, dark-haired boy.

How times have changed.

Adam. She smiles at the life he now lives, not only accepted like the only simple thing he ever wanted – but surrounded now by people who appreciate his humor and charisma.

He has all he's ever wanted.

She doesn't talk to him much anymore.

But maybe she's found her way, too. Lost and confused as she might be nowadays, her future has begun to span out and she's found a place with a new love, one who looks to her for solace just as she does to him.

Change is occurring naturally, fading over her life gradually – and she can feel it. She welcomes it with as little hesitation as she can manage.

But those green eyes. They're forever haunting her in the back of her mind.

You broke the only promise you ever truly cared about keeping.

You hurt an already wounded boy.

You let him fall when you knew you might have had the strength to catch him.

You didn't even try.

And the worst – Oh, the worst.

His recovery pained you.

No matter how much to wish to deny it to yourself – it hurt to see him get better without you.

Even after the claims of it being best for him, the promise to herself and to him as well that she was doing this to save him, it still hurt her to see him forget her. It's what she wanted – that's the only claim she made.

They had to forget each other.

He had protested. She had insisted.

Where along the line had the roles reversed themselves?

She'll never know, and, in the end, it doesn't matter. Clare Edwards breathes. She stands, sinking further into the earth. And she continues on to the red truck somewhere at the end of the clearing.

Because she's not sure what else there is to do.

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Adam Torres

Adam Torres can hear the rain pounding on the ceiling of the school. It crashes in torrents over the parking lot, and he can't help but wonder why in the hell anyone would plan a career fair in such inconvenient weather.

He hasn't bothered with any of the booths now being blown away by gusts of wind and drenched in sky water. Instead, he sits behind his laptop inside the recording booth scrolling through audio and video clips from the past year, searching for a particular song Drew has been pleading with him to play for Katie for much too long now.

At least, he had started out searching for that song.

Who's to Say I Love You?

Say Who You Love?

Let Me Say I Love You?

What the hell was the title of that song?

He huffs, pushing aside the thought again and begins to scroll through video clips.

His English poetry recitation. His stomach grimaces at the thought – Delete

Dave's half court shot. Impressive, but copied all around school – Delete

He's gotten to the point where he is nearly discarding instantaneously when a familiar title catches his eye. He stops. He contemplates.

And, instead of deleting, he clicks.

Two nervous and awkward teenagers appear on the screen. The image pulls at Adam's lips until a full-out smile is showcased over his face. A dark-haired boy with green eyes and twitching dimples, paired with a small girl, innocent and blush-faded.

There are a few lines of the project exchanged, and, just like he did when he was the one behind the camera, he hears the edge in both voices – Eli's hoarse, stutter along with a bobbing adam's apple and Clare's broken murmur, low in volume and fading once the words leave her trembling lips.

There's a moment of hesitation, an exchange of timid glances – and a kiss that makes all their worries seems childish and silly.

Adam sighs. He waits for the screen to freeze and the memories to become two-dimensional again. He waits for his stomach to recoil itself.

His hands tremble just a bit. His chest heaves gently.

"That's cute," he breathes.

And scrolls on.

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Eli Goldsworthy

The rain is striking the car in sheets, and Eli Goldsworthy can't remember when exactly the storm blew in. He used to welcome rain; it clouded the world around him with mist and fog. He felt like the world was renewing itself.

Nowadays, it feels more like the only thing standing between Eli and the end. Rain washes away the mistakes before they can take over, keeps him from losing himself – though, right now, that doesn't sound too bad.

Morty used to hold up well in rain. This car, however, groans in agony. It's a mutual hatred – the one between Eli and Bullfrog's Mercedes Benz. While other students gawk in envy at it, Eli contemplates having just one more intentional car accident.

His slim fingers clutch at the steering wheel as he waits for Imogen's leather jacket to appear somewhere in the crowd of students emerging from the school. He's promised to give her a ride while her scooter is being repaired. She crashed it right in front of him the other day upon pulling into the parking lot, and he carried her into the nurse's office, her injured leg hanging limply over his elbow.

She claimed she was taken to the hospital for the rest of the day, but Eli saw her walk from the office, leg unhindered and intentions clearly on skipping for the rest of the day to heed her lie.

He didn't call her out on it.

He never does.

Manipulation isn't all that bad, He thinks, smirking, Why did Clare complain?

And, instantly, he regrets the memory. He feels a new one resurfacing, back when Morty was alive and in tact and rain was still pounding his exterior.

What if I forget her?

The words are suddenly very alive in his mind, and it feels as though they've been there forever, hidden in the back of his thoughts. The fear of letting go of a memory, it's the greatest one out there for Eli.

Now, the same words flash through him, but it's a different image – a different girl. Her brown curls are light and full, and her pinks lips are still smiling in innocence tinted the color of a creamy pink.

But her eyes, he can't remember them completely. He used to have them memorized, the way they glinted in the sunlight and softened under his glance. In this moment, as the storm keeps him sane and the gray clouds mist over him, he can't remember the eyes of Clare Edwards.

He's already forgetting her. He's already losing what little of her he still called his – the memories of when all of her was his.

There was a time when things had been different. Now, he doesn't even know where he is. Who he is.

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It's a rainy day.

Three teenagers catch a glimpse of the way things once were through the faded clouds.

And three teenagers continue on.

Each one of them is unsure of how to retrace their steps.

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Adam, Eli, and Clare had to be one of the best trios of the show.

They were nice while they lasted, and maybe we'll see them again soon.

Reviews are greatly appreciated.