My alarm beeped obnoxiously, signaling the start of a new day. I rolled from my stomach to my back and blinked up at the ceiling, dreading what was to come. No wait, today was Saturday. No school, no stress, no Eli.
I hopped out of bed and carefully padded downstairs to the kitchen, trying my best to remain quiet as Dad had come in really late last night. He was normally very grumpy in the mornings, and the long hours he had been working had not helped with that. At all.
The kitchen was still in a state of disrepair, only adding to Dad's frustrations. Jake and Glen had come by a couple of times, toting bags of tools and how-to manuals. The tension between Dad and Glen was so great that even Jake, Mr. Oblivious to everything but food, noticed it. I was really beginning to think that Glen was more than Mom's "old friend" and the fact that Dad was jealous of this fanned the spark inside of me for a parental reunion. I knew it was silly, and I was probably putting myself through more pain than necessary, but I wanted my old family back. Darcy would have to come back for that to happen, though. I laughed to myself. Darcy was long gone.
I managed to whip up some eggs and bacon. The eggs smelled a little off, but I was actually kind of hoping I would get food poisoning, and would get to stay home from school for the coming week. School continued to be terrible. My lovely, academic-focused, free-as-a-bird semester was going horribly. When I broke up with Eli, I was supposed to be getting rid of the stress he caused, but it only made it worse because I couldn't talk to him about it.
"Clare?"
I looked up from the frying pan.
"Morning," I said brightly.
Dad looked terrible. His hair was sticking up all over the place and the circles under his eyes were practically black. I made a mental note not to give him any of the eggs.
"Hot breakfast on Saturday morning? My, you treat me better than your mother ever did," he said, sitting down at the kitchen table and folding the plastic covering back. Its memory pushed it back over on top of his hands. "Damn thing."
"Dad," I scoffed, bringing him a plate with a few pieces of bacon on it.
"Sorry, Clare Bear. It's those nasty boys at the office, they're rubbing off on me," he winked.
I rolled my eyes and plopped down with my eggs, not bothering to mess with the plastic on the table. Dad continued to push it around, to his growing frustration.
"What's the point of this thing, anyway?" he asked, bacon bits dribbling out of his mouth.
"Well, it's a dust catcher, for you know…dust."
He just looked at me and continued to munch.
"I think, when Glen actually starts doing some work, like cutting the cabinets up or whatever, it keeps the table from getting all ruined. Mom wants to keep it," I finished lamely.
"Hmph," he grunted non -committedly.
"So," I said awkwardly, shoving some of the eggs into my mouth. They tasted horrible. "How are things at the office?"
He scowled at me from across the table like a petulant little boy. Okaaaaay then.
"Do you want any coffee?" I tried again, getting up to get myself a glass of orange juice, milk, tap water…anything really. I needed to get this crap egg taste of out my mouth.
"Sure, no sugar."
I raised my eyebrows and planned to give him a ton. He needed a pick me up.
"So, Clare," he mimicked my tone as I putzed around the kitchen. "How are things at school?"
I tried to just glare at him for asking such a cliché question, as he had done to me, but when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw nothing but genuine concern on his face. Wait, concern. Why?
"Why do you ask?" I responded, cautiously, but trying not to sound like it.
"Your mother told me you've been having a hard time lately."
"Oh."
"Sweetheart," he began, and I heard the chair legs scrape the floor as he pushed it back. He walked behind me and set his hands on my shoulders. "Can we talk about it?"
"What is there to say, Dad? It's just silly, teenage angst."
"Clare Diana," he said sternly, pressing his thumbs into my neck and turning me around. His face was serious and eyes pleading. "Please, talk to me. When your sister was….when she was hurt, your mother and I overlooked it as silly teenage angst. She desperately needed someone to talk to, and it should've been us. "
"What does this have to do with me?" I asked, hating that he brought up Darcy. The pain of her being gone never really went away and it was always worse when I had to talk about her.
"It has everything to do with you! I thought that I had done everything to protect you and your sister, to keep my little girls safe from the sick things that are out there, but apparently I was wrong!" He exclaimed. I could see tears pricking the edges of his eyes and he had my full attention. Dad never really gave me lectures, so since he was getting all riled up, I knew what he had to say must be pretty important.
"Daddy…"
"It's just, I'm, I'm done with thinking that anything my daughter is going through is just 'silly teenage angst.' I love you, Clare. Your hurt is my hurt," he finished.
I found it highly ridiculous that he had just divorced my mother, and then had the nerve to tell me that he was sorry I was hurting and having a crappy time in life, but I appreciated the sentiment. I let him hold me. He was big and strong, just like I remembered. He hugged me like he had when I was a little girl, except this time, he was the one crying. Not me.
We stood there for a while, in the middle of the torn-up kitchen, rocking back and forth. I was starting to get worried I would have to stand there all day, but the coffee machine beeped loudly and he went to pour himself a cup, wiping his eyes.
"Sorry, kiddo. I got a little carried away there."
"It's cool," I said, walking back over to the table to get our plates.
He grabbed his coffee and motioned for me to join him in the living room. I set the dirty dishes in the sink, and followed him.
"So, what's new and exciting in the life of Clare?"
"Well," I sighed, sitting down on the couch and curling my legs underneath me. "I'm on the newspaper staff now."
"That's wonderful!" Dad smiled brightly and patted me on the back. I must've grimaced because he withdrew his hand. "Isn't it?"
"I guess so."
He poked my side. "Clare."
"I wanted to do something for me this semester. I thought the newspaper would be the perfect distraction."
"And it's not?"
"The editor, Katie Maitlin, gave me this audition article, 100 words on how to get over a break-up," I began.
"Oooh! Katie! We like her, right?" he interrupted.
I smiled half-heartedly. If he had asked me that a week ago, the answer would've been an enthusiastic yes. I used to really look up to Katie. Dad called it a girl crush.
"Sort of. I really wanted to impress her, so I wrote her a 1,000 word article, instead of 100," I finished quietly. Dad made a face. "I know, I know. Not my best move."
"So how did you still get a job on the paper?"
"Well, I may or may not have complained about it to Alli in front of Sav, and he may or may not have said something to Katie about it," I said.
"Ah, and Katie thinks you went crying to Sav and he bullied her into giving you a spot?"
"Well, not bullied, per say," I interjected lamely. "It's just, I didn't want Sav to, I never asked him, but Katie thinks I did. She doesn't take me seriously. She thinks I'm spoiled."
"Ah, kiddo. Just write her some kickass articles and she'll forgive you in no time," said Dad.
"Randall Edwards!" I gasped in mock horror, shoving my hand over his mouth.
"Sorry, sorry," he chuckled, pushing my hand away. "How about…extremely well-written, intense and eye-opening articles?"
"As much I like how that sounds, that's kind of the catch," I said.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, since she doesn't think I earned my spot on the paper, she is making me cover the school play, which Eli is writing."
"Oooh. Hate her!" Dad said, still smiling. He obviously didn't get it.
"No, Dad. She did it on purpose!" I exclaimed. "I could see it in her eyes when she asked me to do it. It was like 'fine, you can be on my paper, but I'm going to torture you.'"
"I'm sure it's not that bad, Clare," Dad said, his eyebrows raised in mild concern.
"Ah, but it is. I've had to interview Eli twice," I said, my voice very quiet, and very,very sad.
"Eli," he said tersely.
"He's writing the school play, and I know it's going to be brilliant. He's such a good writer and I'm so excited for him to have this opportunity," I said, feeling my eyes grow wet.
"But?"
"But he's using our story, Dad. The story of us."
Dad really had never liked Eli, but that was really my own fault. I didn't paint him in the glowing light he deserved. Because of this, I never expected him to hold me like he did as I recounted my run-ins with Eli over the past week, and his bizarre new friend Imogen who had a penchant for calling people by their first and last names.
"She so creepy, Dad. She just showed up by his shoulder, like out of nowhere," I sobbed. I was jealous of her new found position in Eli's life, but another emotion was definitely greater: concern for him and his mental stability.
"And you're sure he threw all his pills away?" Dad asked, now fully absorbed in what was going on in my life.
"Yeah, right in front of me!"
"Okay, well I think the best course of action would be to tell Mr. and Mrs. Goldsworthy. If it was me, I would want to know," said Dad.
"I can't just tell on him," I replied.
"Clare, if one of Darcy's friends had bothered to tell us what was really going on with her, do you have any idea how much pain our family could have avoided? If only Helen and I had known earlier, she would never have….have," he stopped talking and gave me a pointed look. "I'll call them."
I couldn't bear to speak to Cece. Not again, not like this. She was the woman who had been so kind and loving to me over the course of Eli and I's relationship. After I left her son, her sweet "baby boy" she probably hated me. She did deserve to know, though. Eli was the light of her life.
"No, I'll do it. I have her number upstairs on my desk," I said.
"Okay, well let me know how it goes? I've got to shower and go into the office for a few hours. Will you be okay here by yourself?
"Of course! I'm almost sixteen, come on," I scoffed.
"True," he replied, standing and heading for the stairs. "Actually, I think Glen and his son are due later on to bring by more supplies. I don't want you alone with them, so just have them leave it in the driveway, okay?"
"Okay."
Dad showered and was gone before I knew it. I was staring at my cell phone when he came into my room to kiss me goodbye, and two hours later I was still staring at it. Nerves gnawed at my stomach at the thought of talking to Cece, so I kept putting it off. I had a draft of my article due to Katie on Monday morning, and since Eli had not given me much of anything to go on, I called Fiona.
She was kind of helpful, fleshing out the storyline enough for me to write about, but the article still really sucked. It was only a draft, though. Hopefully Katie wouldn't kill me.
My phone buzzed and I nearly jumped up through the ceiling. Upon checking it, I was relieved to see it was just Alli.
Jake coming by today? ;)
Oh my gosh, give it a rest girl! I certainly didn't want Jake. Alli could have him.
I think so. Why?
Alli was always too boy crazy for my liking, but I chastised myself. I had become just like her. But not this semester. This semester was all about me.
Oh….no reason. I was thinking I need to come by and see you though :)
I was about to text her back, when I heard a car pull up. Moments later, there was a knock on the front door and I could hear a set of gruff voices coming from outside. The Martins.
As much as I didn't want to be, I was really excited to see Jake. I threw my phone on my bed and all thoughts of telling the Goldsworthy's about their son left my mind. If Eli wanted to be crazy, fine let him. I didn't care anymore.
But deep down, I knew I really did.
