The fall had followed her to Shermer.
Claire Standish was back in her home town for some damn reason. She didn't know what it was, but when she was away there was a constant nagging in the back of her brain. She was back to trees with golden leaves, instead of palm trees. Maybe she was there to see her parents. They were still together, but she knew that they spent little to no time together. If she was there visiting, they would be forced to sit and acknowledge that the other even still existed.
As excited as she was to see Allison, her closest friend wouldn't let her off the hook. There was another reason she was back.
Maybe, just maybe, it was because of John Bender.
Claire would never say it out loud.
She was finally done with school and began working full time, letting it consume her completely. Working fifty hours a week allowed her to have little time to think about anything other than what paid her bills. Claire wasn't able to sit and cry, or dream about a life she wished she had.
She missed his eyes though. His beautiful brown eyes, filled with contempt for the world.
The driver, Bruce, that picked her up from the airport was one she remembered from her teenage years, and that was comforting in a way. He knew that she would always want to take the back roads through town to get to her parents' house.
She found that nothing had really changed since she left, other than a new park and some new office buildings. She couldn't help but wonder where John worked.
As they drove down a street that she remembered having an old supermarket, Claire looked up and out at the truck next to her.
Her heart fluttered in her chest and she scrambled to roll down her window.
"John!" she tried to yell as the light turned green. "John!"
Startled, he looked over at her, eyes widening as he realized it was her.
"Hi, John!" Claire beamed up at him, unable to contain her excitement.
"Good to see you, princess!" John flashed her a smile that made her insides churn in an old, familiar way.
"When can I see you?" Claire called out to him, reaching her hand out of the window unconsciously, seeking his touch.
She realized then that he was already gone, flowing along with the steady flow of cars.
"Damnit," she muttered, rolling her window back up.
"Do you want me to follow him?" Bruce's eyes twinkled from the front seat as she sighed, looking over at the old driver.
"No. Just home, please."
When they arrived at her childhood home, Claire suddenly wished that she was somewhere else. Anywhere else but with her parents. Rome, Arizona, Canada. Dear lord, she needed to get out of there.
Bruce opened her door and, to her dismay, she obediently got out of the car.
Meeting with her parents had gone well. They pretended to be happy to see her, but they mostly tried to keep from arguing the entire time. She was relieved to be back in her old room and she felt comfortable there. Nothing was out of place, just as she left it.
Claire had gone to one of John's old friends and fished for his new address. She was surprised to find that he had a condo in one of the nicest parts of town.
And there she was, sitting in front of his home, wondering why the fuck she was even there in the first place. She pulled out a cigarette from her purse and smoked it quickly.
It was a disgusting habit that she had picked up from John. She knew she continued to smoke because it reminded her of him. Every time she puffed poison into her body she was able to feel close to him. Stupid.
She took a deep breath, got out of her car, and walked deliberately towards his door.
Knocking, Claire almost fled in terror. What the fuck was she doing? This wasn't a game, this wasn't something fun anymore. This was his life that she intruding in on without him asking. As she turned to leave, John opened the door.
"Hi," she spoke quietly, looking anywhere but at his face.
"How'd you find me?" John asked, looking at her skeptically.
"Joey."
"Come in."
John held the door open for her and as she walked in she knew coming there had been a bad idea. She looked around his beautiful home and found herself staring at pictures of John with his arms around a woman, others of him on one knee, and then finally, a crystal framed professional photograph of John on his wedding day.
She felt sick. Holy fuck.
"You're married?" She thought she might choke.
"Uh, yeah. That's Marie." John looked around uncomfortably, pushing his hands into his pockets.
"Allison never mentioned that." Claire pulled a cigarette out of her purse, motioning to him in question.
He nodded, pouring her a drink, and lighting his own. "I'm not surprised. Marie is, uh. Hard to get along with sometimes. Wait, you smoke?" He smirked at her as he sat in a chair in front of her.
"You got me smoking. I don't know. I planned to quit, but I never did."
"I really did corrupt you, Cherry." John smiled at her and she had to bite her lip from tearing up. "Are you married?"
"No, oh, god no," Claire brushed her hair back nervously. There had never been anyone else.
Marie was beautiful. She looked like Pamela Anderson and Claire looked like, well, Claire. Her hair was longer now, still red, mostly straight, and she was still unbelievably pale. Marie was tall and thin with huge breasts and curly blonde hair. This girl was a knockout. God damnit.
"She's gorgeous, John."
"Yeah, not like you though."
Claire looked up in surprise and John just stared at her.
"Why did you get married?" Her words sounded pathetic and she cringed.
"You fucking left!" John's eyes narrowed and his voice was low as he ran his hands through his hair. "What did you expect me to do? Just sit around and wait for you? Fuck, Claire."
The hurt she heard in his voice surprised her, and she got up to leave. "I'm sorry that I came here."
She was half running to the door when she heard his quiet, defeated words. "Don't fucking walk out again. Don't be your fucking mother."
Claire felt tears pooling in her lashes and she blinked rapidly to clear her vision. "I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't for you to be married! I mean, Jesus, John, how do you afford this? We never had this! Why does she deserve this and I didn't?"
There it was. Out in the open. John gaped at her with his mouth open, his eyes turning red the more she cried.
"I'm a welder. You got me into school- I finished it like I said I would. You have no right to question any of what I have now! Why do you smoke? Why are you still wearing my ring?" His voice cracked as he looked pointedly at her exposed neckline. "What the fuck is that?"
She looked down to see the chain hanging out of her blouse. She closed her eyes. The ring had once resided on her finger, and after they had separated she put it on a chain. It was the only item she had left from him.
"I couldn't get rid of it." Claire knew she was sobbing now and sounding more and more desperate. "It's all I have of you! I never got over you, don't you see that, you asshole?"
Oh, god, had she really said that?
"I think I should go."
She slipped out of the door, making it halfway to her car when he grabbed her hand.
"Claire, I did what I had to do to move on. I didn't do this to hurt you. I never forgot."
She looked up into his eyes and saw pain there. Raw emotion that was new to this older version of John. She smiled weakly at him and turned to walk to her car, not looking back.