I rolled onto my knees and just kneeled for a moment. The rain pelted by back, soaking through my clothes and increasing my distress. I sneezed.

Great, I thought. Now, on top of everything else, I'm sick.

I quickly stood and grabbed my purse, taking time to shove the box of tic tacs and sunglasses that had popped out during my fall back inside. I trekked home, more carefully now that Eli wasn't in the vicinity. My face burned. Why was it that I turned into some sort of fool whenever he was around? Things used to be so simple between us; I never had to give anything a second thought when I was in his company. Now, every time I saw his face I turned into this juvenile …bitch.

I shuddered, and then sighed in relief when I reached my street. Mom's car was in the driveway and my mind raced to find an excuse for my current state. I thought of none before I reached the door.

"Clare?"

So much for a stealthy entrance.

"Hey, Mom," I said quietly, hanging my purse in the entry way and walking into the living room.

"Clare!" She was up from the couch with her arms around me in an instant.

And then, without really meaning to, I started to sob.

My mom wasn't really one for physical affection. When Darcy and I were little, Dad was always the snuggly one, the one who held us when we fell off our bikes or, in my case, got a bad grade. Mom was always more distant, preferring to "let the chips fall" and move on. She always thought tears to be a sign of weakness. I wondered if that's why Darcy went to Kenya. To "move on."

It was so weird, to have her rub my back and whisper soothing things into my ear. This was so unlike her, but I found myself loving it; relishing in the attention.

"Clare," she whispered, her hand smoothing over the back of curls. "What happened? Did you and Alli have a fight? Do I need to call Mrs. Bhan-"

"No," I cut her off.

She pulled back and studied my puffy face, thin lips pursed. Her eyes were marked with worry and compassion. She slid her fingers across my cheeks, catching my tears with her thumbs, then moved her hands down my arms, squeezing my palms lightly before releasing me.

"Why don't you come sit down and tell me what happened."

It wasn't a question. I knew I was going to have to explain.

"Well, um. Alli wasn't ever going to meet me there. I just wanted to get out of the house," I sputtered pathetically. I felt horrible. A complete mess.

Over the months I dated Eli, I snuck out plenty of times. He was a real romantic, taking me on midnight picnics, swims and make out sessions. I had even spent the night with him the night of Adam's party. I told Mom I was staying with Jenna overnight to salvage our friendship and she ate it right up. Of course she hadn't known Jenna was pregnant at the time. I'm not so sure I would be allowed to stay with her now.

That night with Eli still made me squirm. Yeah, we had kissed a little. Okay, a lot. But there was something about falling asleep, all tangled up in each other…I had never felt so complete. I missed that. I miss him.

Those times with Eli, though. I had never regretted those. Never felt guilty about leaving after curfew, or lying about my whereabouts. Why was something as silly as "meeting Alli at the Dot" eating me up so much?

"I figured as much," she reproached, pulling me down to sit.

"You did?"

"Clare, I know you think of me as insensitive, or stupid, or not 'with it'," she said, using air quotes to emphasize her point and I laughed "But I was a teenager once, and I also know my own daughter. So why don't you tell me what's been on your mind?"

"Eli," I answered simply.

"What about him?"

"I miss him, Mom. I miss him so much."

"Clare," she started, and by her tone I could tell she was disappointed.

"I know, I know," I hiccupped. "I'm not supposed to care anymore. Good riddance, right? The boy was bogging me down. He was intense and scary."

"And he crashed his car on purpose," she added.

"But I loved him, Mom. I love him," I corrected myself.

She pursed her lips and just stared at me. She had never really liked Eli, but I guess in her mind he was temporary; a puppy love akin to KC that would be gone in a few months that she didn't really need to worry about. But I hadn't wanted that, I had wanted a forever with Eli. I knew that was a scary thought at fifteen, but he was my home. I needed him. At least, that's what I thought until Fitz showed up again and Eli's behavior changed.

"When I was seventeen, there was this boy, Clare," she began slowly.

"I already know how you met Dad," I said.

"No, before your father. His name was Henry Johnson and he was my pastor's son," she replied.

I balked. I had always been under the impression that Dad was her one and only.

"I thought he was the one," she continued quietly. I could hear much sadness in her voice. "He was my first kiss, my first boyfriend, my first everything."

I raised my eyebrows. Everything?

"We spent every waking moment together. He made me feel so exhilarated, so alive."

"What happened?"

"He broke up with me, just like that," she snapped her fingers and gave me a despondent smile. "It was the night before he went off to college. I came over to wish him luck, and when I went in to kiss him, he pulled back and told me it was over."

"Mom, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault sweetheart, and if it hadn't happened you probably wouldn't be here."

I paused for a moment, and let this information sink in. The clock in the corner's steady ticks let me know that time was passing.

"Your first everything?" I asked.

"Believe it or not, I'm not a perfect person, Clare. I made a lot of mistakes in my day, one's that left me with a broken heart," she said simply.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Clare," she said, turning towards me and taking my hands in her own. "I'm so sorry that things didn't work out with Eli. I know how it feels, to invest everything you have into someone, and then they start acting differently. It's frustrating and scary and it breaks my heart to know you had to go through it so early in your life."

A tear rolled out of the corner of her eye, down her cheek and plopped itself onto our hands.

"Sweetheart," she continued. "I love you and your sister so much, and it hurts me to see you hurting. I've raised you the way I have so that you could avoid the same pitfalls I did."

Mom laughed, shaking her head.

"But this world is a cruel place and it seems hurt just has its little heart set on damaging my two beautiful girls. What's happened has happened. It's over and done with, you can't change it. You and Eli had something precious, Clare. But it's time to let it go. If there is anything I've learned from my divorce, is that it's not fair to yourself to keep hoping that the other person is going to change. That they're going to turn into the person they were when you first fell in love, because that's not how life works. People grow and evolve, for better or for worse, and sometimes people just aren't meant to be in our lives anymore, even people that we love."

"Is this your indirect way of telling me that if I screw up, we're through?" I asked, teasing.

"No, sweetheart. I just think you need to accept that the past can't be changed and move forward," she said, squeezing my hands once again.

"But, he needs me, Mom. He needs me and I left him," I said weakly, my lower lip quivering with the effort not to cry again.

"No, what he needs is professional help and his parents. Not a fifteen year old girl who has only known him for eight months," she snapped.

"His parents are sending him to therapy, actually," I said. "After he crashed Morty, they decided he should go."

"See there, he's getting all the help he needs. Quit being such a worry wart and come here!"

She opened her arms for a hug and I slipped into the easily. I buried my face in her chest and she stroked my hair and until I was completely calm.

"Thanks, Mom," I mumbled into her shirt.

"That's why I'm here. Now, let's talk about productive things you can do to get your mind off this boy."

Now that sounded more like my mother I grew up with. Keep yourself busy. Move on. Do something productive, there's no time to feel.

"Mom, there's nothing at school that I'm really into anymore. I mean, besides the school part," I said pathetically, because it was oh so true.

"Come on, Clare! There has to be something. Oh," she said, sitting up excitedly and nearly throwing me off of her. "What about theater? You did so well with the props last year! You won that award and everything."

I thought about it. But it wasn't really my thing anymore, especially since Declan was no longer in the picture. "No, I don't think I want to do that."

"You could always get a job?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" I laughed.

"Okay, how about something that's kind of like a job."

"Do I get paid?" I asked, interested.

"Well no, but it'll be great experience for college, and you're such a good writer, Clare I think this would be perfect for you!" Mom gushed.

"Okay, okay! What is it?"

"I got an email from Principal Simpson today, and the Degrassi Daily is looking for new columnists."

The newspaper? Oh. That actually sounded like fun. I would get to write and meet new people. AND it would eat up most of my time. Just what I needed.

"Yeah," I said. "I think I could do that."

"Great," Mom said. "The email said sign-ups are tomorrow during school, so make sure to put your name down!"

"I will, Mom," I said, chuckling at her enthusiasm.

"Now, go change out of those wet clothes and I'll take you to get some dinner," she responded.

I didn't really want to go back out. "Why can't we just eat at home?"

"Kitchen's all torn up, my dear. No way I can cook in that!"

"Oh, right. Okay."

I sprinted towards my room and couldn't help but smile. Maybe everything was going to be okay after all.