"You're breaking up with me at prom?"
The words resounded through Eli's head, over the steady beat of dance music throbbing throughout the gymnasium, and over the rapid beat of his own throbbing heart. Mixed emotions. Good opportunity? Should be responsible. Stay out of it.
"Clare, our parents are getting really... serious. More serious than we can ever be, despite how much you want us to do everything together—"
"Is this about the movie? You're dumping me over a movie?"
"I'm breaking up with you because this won't... work. Clare, I'm sorry, but we knew it would happen. I just don't want things to get messy."
Messy. Eli had seen messy before; he knew all about messy. Yet somehow Clare always seemed to be the one to bring order, to clean up all his messes and misgivings. She had kept him grounded until one day... she didn't. She couldn't.
"Well," Clare began, her voice trembling, changing pitch as she tried to keep it together, "I guess... I'll see you around. We can be... friends, and..."
Don't cry, Clare. Don't let another guy make you cry.
"I'm really sorry, Clare."
"Me too," she whispered.
The girl Eli loved, alone, immersed in a sea of bodies bobbing like lures beneath flashing lights. The girl he loved, alone, blue eyes wide with a look of loss—she had lost something; she was lost. She peered over dancing silhouettes to try to find a friend, an island. No one there. She kept glancing around, quickly looking this way and that, but there was only one person she saw who could see her. Dazedly, as if sleepwalking, she took a step towards Eli, then paused. Her eyes were glittering. She seemed utterly alone.
"Clare," he breathed, taking slow strides toward her. She looked up at him, tears beginning to gather in little pools in the corners of her eyes. All it would take was one quick blink and— "Don't cry, Clare. I'll... I'll take you home."
"No, that's fine. I'm fine. I just need... I just need..."
He reached out to her and put his arm around her shoulder, relishing the physical contact and the way she seemed to curl into him, her hand clutching his shirt. She was vulnerable. Shouldn't be enjoying this so much. At all. But she smelled so sweet and it felt so good to finally be the one protecting her, dealing with the disorder, instead of the aftermath of his own.
He led her off the dancefloor and out to the front steps of the school. The moon was high and bright and illuminated her soft, angelic face. He needed to tread lightly. Be responsible. Seriously.
Suddenly she turned her head to look at him, the tears on her cheek glistening in the moonlight, a beautiful sight but still heart-wrenching.
"Eli," she whimpered weakly. No, the beauty could not outweigh the sadness.
"Why don't we call your mom, Clare," he said soothingly, rubbing her upper back as they sat together. She looked at him for a moment. He stopped.
"She's with Jake's dad." She swallowed back the feelings that danced along that sentence, all the complications and unease that were bound to come. The heartache. All those familiar demons.
Eli hesitated. Slowly he withdrew his arm from around Clare's shoulder, and she felt the warmth of his touch being leeched away by the cool night air. He stood up and turned to her with an air of mock authority.
"Well then, Ms. Edwards. It seems I'll have to walk you home." He held out his hand, waiting for her to take it. She did, but as soon as she was standing he let her go.
As they walked side by side in the darkness, thoughts were bubbling in Clare's head. She felt overwhelmed by it all, all the needs and wants she suddenly felt: the need to cry, the yearning for comfort, the longing for physical contact. The words bounced around her head as she tried to deal with her current situation, the absurdity of it. She wanted to speak, but couldn't find anything to say.
Neither could Eli.
Then, after minutes of silence, two words escaped her lips like a thread of steam from a boiling kettle. "I'm sorry."
"Personally, Clare, I find it's best to apologize when you've done something wrong."
"You shouldn't have to take me home. You shouldn't have to deal with my problems."
"Well, you've dealt enough with mine; I figured I'd return the favour."
She exhaled and let a little smile crawl across her face. "He was wrong though."
"Jake? Of course he was. I bet he already regrets breaking up with you."
"No, I mean when he said he didn't want things to get messy. Things are already messy." She gave him another, sadder smile.
He turned to her, his dark green eyes swirling with emotions she could not read; his gaze held hers for an instant, as if giving her extra time to read, to understand. She wanted to be able to know him again, but she couldn't. She didn't understand anything that night. He took an unsure breath and licked his lips before speaking.
"Clare, you should know... Love is messy. It just is." And he reciprocated her sad, half-hearted smile.
She could read that well enough.