Author's note: This entire story is based on the lyrics of Taylor Swift's Mary's Song (Oh My My My). It's been on repeat for the past weekend and around the 20394802983rd time I played it I thought to myself: "Self, this song could maybe just possibly be Clare and Jake's song." (Not to say that I ship Cake anymore than Eclare, but...okay never mind, I guess I don't need to justify myself. Although I will just mention that I'm a sucker for the childhood friend thing especially when the boy is pretty in plaid.)

So yeah. I meant to write this whole long thing to go with every single part of the song, but that would get tedious and be much, much too cheesy and well, when I stopped writing, the ending just felt right.

Hearing your thoughts would be wonderful, thanks. Sharing is caring :)

Enjoy, please.

She said, "I was 7 and you were 9
I looked at you like the stars that shine in the sky, like pretty lights

and our daddies used to joke about the two of us growing up and falling in love

and our mamas smiled and rolled their eyes
and said, 'Oh, my, my, my...'"

She meets him for the first time (again) in six years when he saunters down the sidewalk, simultaneously giving her best friend a lingering appraisal, undoubtedly undressing Alli with his eyes.

Clare only rolls her eyes, more than a little bit used to the glamorous Alli Bhandari Show and the adoring fans she is wont to gather.

Before, Clare wonders what it would be like to see her childhood friend after so long— practically a lifetime by the looks of it— but now in this instant, her interest fades fast. Any remainder of heightened interest leftover whatsoever quickly meets its end upon his entering the Edwards' home, quirking a familiar brow while immediately questioning all too breezily:

"So…where's Darcy?"

Again, she only rolls her eyes, more than a little bit used to the glowing, effervescent shadow of her older sister. Any and all of the male population are known to feel the teensiest morsel of curiosity for the beautiful, sparkling Darcy Edwards.

Well, except perhaps for one boy in particular, though more likely due to the fact that he never happened to be granted the blessed fortune of meeting her.

Africa is funny like that.

But for now, Clare gives her all to shut him—that one boy— from her mind. As this is as near an impossibility as aliens crash landing to Earth thereby postponing this dinner, she allows herself to think only forcibly nonchalant thoughts of him for the time being. What is it again? He whose name happens to rhyme with the ironically fitting phrase: 'a desperate lie?' Oh, right. Him. Eli.

Yes, the feigned indifference she musters somewhere deep within herself is all she can manage as of yet. The imminent breakdown she's been pushing back for weeks now would simply not be conducive at this hour. Of that she remains certain.

Oh my, my, my…

As dinner commences, she pushes food around her plate in an effort to appease her mother in thinking she's actually eating. Thoughts of his-whose-name-aptly-rhymes-with-the-word-"cry" are swept aside along with the chicken and rice in front of her. That is until Helen—oh, that foolishly oblivious Helen— airs out her daughter's metaphorically dirty laundry for the new-old neighbors to see.

"…Clare here's getting over a breakup, you see…"

Gritting her teeth sullenly, Clare becomes only vaguely aware of something new spark in Jake's eye across from her. For the briefest of seconds she recalls smiling up adoringly, childishly at those eyes after catching fireflies and running around crazily in the backyard, her two front teeth missing and not a care in the world.

But the seconds pass quickly and Clare takes to gritting her teeth again, as Mr. Martin jumps right in, nodding knowingly and acquiescing, "Yes, breakups can be difficult," so that the horrendous, odious mention of her wreck of a love life is left at forefront of her mind, thus effectively replacing memories of that little girl and that little boy with bright encouraging eyes, gone for now at least.

She tells herself that breakdown still remains to be not conducive at this hour. But by now she's not so sure.

Well, I was sixteen when suddenly
I wasn't that little girl you used to see
but your eyes still shined like pretty lights

She's not thinking as she yanks his hand and takes him to 'meet her friends.' She's not even thinking as she introduces him to he-whose-name-conveniently-rhymes-with-a-"disconcerted-sigh." All she wants is to evoke some emotion in Eli's—yes, she'll say his name now and she'll say it again, Eli's face, his countenance, his eyes. But everything within him fades when he sees her, lifeless, and right now, Clare just wants to double back, run away. Right now it feels as if everything is and ever was just a lie.

So when she leaves Above the Dot, all observing faces twisted her way, she's trying oh so hard not to think at all. Not even when Jake comes up behind her on the sidewalk.

In vain, Clare wipes away a tear. She hears Jake sigh next to her. Something about life and girls and all this 'unnecessary' drama. She wants to tell him she doesn't like it either, not one bit. Can't he see that?

But before she opens her mouth to dispute with him on the finer details of her most personal life, he's kissing her. And all Clare can even think of in that moment is the image of that little girl and boy, waiting on his porch steps one house down from her own, racing barefoot in the yard, roasting marshmallows by the campfire, and playing that one last game of hide-and-go-seek by the light of the stars.

Take me back when our world was one block wide
and I dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried
...After all this time, you and I

Oh, my, my, my…