Clare, Clare, Clare.
Sometimes she was all he could think about.
He was supposed to be getting over her but it didn't seem like it would ever happen at this point. Ever since his bipolar diagnosis, all Eli could think about was trying to get better. Getting his apologies and then getting better. But with Clare there constantly in the back of his mind, it was a hard task to complete. Sometimes he wondered if he'd ever be better, but not as often as he thought about Clare.
It wasn't like he wanted to think about her. No, that was the absolute last thing that Eli needed. He would be doing one thing, focusing on his writing or something of the sort, and there she was. Clare Edwards. His muse, his Juliet, his everything.
His everything but his girl. She was Jake's girl now, which was another reason he couldn't be thinking about her.
The sweat lodge scene replayed in his mind on repeat quite often; the 'I love you's they shared still lingering in his mind.
Why did she love him? Why did she love Jake and not Eli? What was it that was better about him than Eli? As if Eli needed to ask himself that. Jake wasn't bipolar, he wasn't insane. He didn't have manic episodes, he wasn't a crazy person. He was Mr. Right and Eli, well, Eli was all wrong.
That's what he told himself, anyway. Just like he told himself that Clare was thinking exactly the same.
Only, not really. Clare wasn't thinking about him at all. She had more important things to do, just like Eli did. What he really needed to do was get better – the impossible task.
Scene change. Out of Eli's mind and into Degrassi Community School.
The boy stared into his locker. To everyone else he was just simply digging around for a book, but back in his mind, there she was. Clare, Clare, Clare. His eyes squeezed shut, his fingers tightly gripping the binder he finally came across. He mentally told her to leave but she never went away.
'Clare, I don't want the company.' Not from you.
He needed someone, though. He knew he did. Clare wasn't the one he needed. She was the one in another way, maybe; but she wasn't supposed to be. He couldn't go to Adam about it, as much as he wished he could, for Adam was busy with Dave and his radio show. He couldn't go to Imogen about it, though they weren't too close to begin with but at first it seemed like she was all he had. Then, Clare came back into the picture – the one in Eli's mind – and upon sight of her, Imogen bitterly exited.
Loneliness and emptiness went hand in hand, didn't they?
It wasn't long before it occurred to Eli that Adam and Imogen weren't all that he had. He didn't need the company from Clare; there were other people to look to for that sort of thing.
He trudged down the hallway, eyes searching for her – and there she was. Clare, Clare, Clare. Not who he was looking for.
There was a glance, an awkward wave shared. 'No, Clare, I don't want the company.'
Gulping, he turned and began to walk away. This was how he had to live now – through glances, and awkward waves. His wide eyes filled with hope as he shot her a weak smile, and Clare, she just looked. Not at him, but right through him. Right through him to find Jake on the other side, no doubt. There was the reminder that even if he didn't have Clare, loneliness and emptiness were trailing right behind him wherever he went.
Then he turned again, and they left. Life was brought back to him, a smile brought to his face.
A couple short steps later and... "Hey."
He took her in. Bouncy, brown curls and the red tie secured under her gray blazer. "Eli, hey." She tilted her head at him as she closed her locker door.
"Need accompaniment to drama class?"
Bright, blue eyes and the gloss on her lips complimenting her wide smile, the smile that had been livelier than Eli could ever remember his own being. "Hm. My schedule's clear," she told him, marking the beginning of their journey.
Fiona Coyne truly was his only hope now. Adam was busy with his show, Imogen was busy hating him, and Clare was busy being Clare. Fiona Coyne, however, well, her schedule was clear.
Small talk was what helped them down the hall way, irrelevant topics of conversations. The types of topics Fiona genuinely cared to talk about, but Eli cared about even more, because they served as a distraction. They served as a distraction from emptiness, loneliness and Clare. Fiona was his distraction, but not in a bad way. Fiona was the best kind of distraction.
So he wasn't alone after all.
The more time he spent with her, the more it became evident to Eli. It was one thing that there was no way he could get through the year without Fiona, but it didn't stop there. Nowadays, Eli felt like he couldn't bring himself to get better without her. She was no muse, no Juliet. Was she everything? As of right now, yes, though he wouldn't admit it to her.
Fiona had been there to save him during the play, she'd been there to help him when he tried to rekindle Jake and Clare's love – as much as he detested hearing it called that, it didn't change the fact she was there for it. At first she'd just been his director, the girl with taste. But she'd always be there, wouldn't she? She'd always be there to distract him.
"Eli, I'm telling you about my English project and you're smiling like you got invited to Fashion Week. Is something up?"
What a Fiona thing to say. Fiona, Fiona, Fiona.
Eli's eyes greeted her own ones, and his smile grew just a tad bit bigger. They came to a halt near the doorway, Fiona's thin eyebrows still raised as she watched him.
"I just... Want to thank you," he said suddenly, ignoring her comment about him being invited to some weird fashion thing.
Her smile still sat on her face, though confusion washed over her. "For...?"
"I... I don't have anybody else, Fiona. You know that?" he offered, twisting the large ring on his thumb nervously. Maybe her English project really was a better topic of conversation.
Fiona looked a little taken aback by the comment. Yeah, Eli figured he'd rather be discussing the English project as he gazed into her eyes. But then her features grew soft, that smile popped up again, the lively one did. "You're welcome," she said quickly.
There was a pause. It wasn't an awkward one, one where neither of them didn't quite know what to say. In fact, it was the opposite, actually. As they stood there and they looked at each other, it was as if they both knew the exact words and that was exactly why they weren't talking.
Next thing, her arms were tightly wrapping around his body. He was a bit surprised, but the embrace was nice. After a moment, Eli realized the time he was wasting and he wrapped his own arms around her, too. No words needed to be spoken.
Next next thing, her smile, the lively smile. The one he loved to see oh so much, whether he'd brought it there or not. Her lips, the gloss on them. The way they tasted, he needed to know, and he found out soon enough. It all went by too fast; he was spinning, in a whirlwind, what on earth was he was doing?
He was kissing her, of course.
And for a split second, he could have sworn she was kissing him, too.
Fiona, Fiona, Fiona. She'd pulled away.
"Whoa, Eli, what are you doing?" she asked, and her smile was gone. It had fallen away, her eyebrows knitted together as she gazed at him. "You... I'm a lesbian, Eli, you know that, right?"
"Yeah, I know, I..." Eli started, trailing off as he got a little lost in the words swimming around in his head. The excuses he could use, but none of them would excuse him from kissing her of all things. "I know," he repeated. But he didn't know. He had no idea why he'd just done that. Actually, perhaps he did. He kissed her simply because he'd wanted to, that was his excuse.
The confusion was still there, her head shaking as she looked at him. "But... Why did you kiss me?"
'Because I wanted to' was no excuse. "I got caught up in the moment," he heard himself say. He held a hand up, shaking his own head, "Won't happen again." Maybe just in his mind.
The corners of Fiona's lips turned up. The lips he'd been kissing a couple of seconds ago, it was a bit strange to look at them and think that. Was it also strange to look at them and think he wanted to do it again? "Okay," was all she could say, and the two ventured in their class, Eli moving slowly behind her.
Excuses, excuses. So why did he do it, why did he kiss her?
He turned his head to face her sitting beside him, Dawes' lecture overpowered by the sound of his heart thumping, and she caught his eye and gave him a smile. With that jolt, he shot back to life and he returned the smile, then facing the front of the classroom again.
'Because I wanted to' was no excuse, it was the truth. He had wanted to kiss Fiona and perhaps he hadn't realized it. From a glance, her lips were just so... Tempting, welcoming, comforting even. They felt as nice and soft as they looked, and he still believed that she'd even kissed him back for a second or two. The way her lips moved against his, – until she'd pulled away and pushed him back into the real world, that is - it just felt so right.
Too bad it was wrong, or that's what he told himself.
Fiona, Fiona, Fiona.
Unlike Clare, Fiona was telling herself the exact same things.