After the Storm
Chapter 4: My Doorbell
The White Stripes rule! Listen to "My Doorbell," if you don't believe me.
I do not own Degrassi, Sesame Street, or Superman. I also do not own Batman, the movie or the awesomely chiropterous superhero.
Thanks for the sweet reviews!
…
"Dude! Shoot them, for fuck's sake! Come on man! I feel like I'm fighting these guys by myself." Adam screamed at Eli, as the next wave of zombies pooled around them, their bloody, rotting maws gaping. Suddenly, the screen was filled with blood spatter- the pixilated, red fluid obscuring the action and bringing the game to a premature and violent end.
"Seriously?" Adam turned to Eli, a look of disbelief on his face. "My grandma plays better than you do, and she just had cataract surgery."
"Shut up!" Eli grumbled in frustration, throwing down the controller. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "You know I'm not completely running on all engines yet. I just got home from the hospital two days ago, for God's sake."
"Whatever," Adam smirked rolling his eyes. "What's your excuse for your crap video game skills the rest of the time?" He ducked to avoid the paperback book Eli lobbed at his head.
"Dude, if there is ever a zombie apocalypse, my money is definitely not on you," Adam mocked, shaking his head.
Eli grinned and flipped him off, collapsing backwards onto his bed. He and Adam had been playing video games for the past two hours, and Eli's brain was buzzing. Although his new medication was a definite improvement over his last one, Eli still had trouble focusing for extended periods of time. Currently, he could feel the restless energy coursing through his blood stream like a freight train, speeding up his heart and setting his nerves on overload. He closed his eyes briefly and willed himself to relax, inhaling deeply and concentrating on slowing his racing pulse.
"Hey, do you think that Bullfrog would let me look at his music library?" Adam asked suddenly from his perch on the floor of Eli's bedroom, jarring Eli from his meditative reverie. "Dave and I are talking about doing a classic rock week on the radio show, and I'd love to get some ideas."
"Dude, he'd love it," Eli replied, exhaling noisily and leaning up on his elbow. "Just make sure you have a few days free to listen to him drone on about how Guns N' Roses single-handedly saved the 80's hard rock scene and how Eddie Van Halen is actually the messiah in striped, spandex pants."
"Sounds awesome!" Adam said enthusiastically, miming a head bang. "Your parents are so cool, man. Seriously, how did you luck out so much?"
"Guess it's a trade off," Eli joked sardonically. "Cool parents – check; sanity – not so much."
"Eli," Adam admonished uncomfortably.
"What?" Eli argued. "It's true."
Adam adjusted the collar of his shirt awkwardly, as an uneasy silence descended. The room seemed suddenly hot - the air oppressive. Thus far, the two boys had avoided any deep conversations about Eli's recent hospital stay and subsequent "vacation" from classes.
Coming over after his own school day was over, Adam had not known how to broach the subject of Eli's recent "setback." He just didn't know what to say –- his standard, "it'll get better" seeming trite and stupid even to an eternal optimist such as himself. Thus, not wanting to set Eli off, Adam had chosen to act like everything was normal - falling into his well-rehearsed role as "sarcastic video game kid." However, based on the shift in the room's atmosphere, it seemed that Eli had had enough of the pretense and had finally decided to "go there."
Eli cleared his throat roughly, shattering the silence. "Man, Adam, you should have seen this last attack," Eli offered in a pained voice, his eyes glassy and red. "It made my freak out during Love Roulette look like an episode of Sesame Street." He blew his breath out in exasperation and shame. "It was bad, man –- really bad."
Adam played with the edge of his polo nervously. "Good thing Clare was there," he offered, not knowing what else to say.
"Oh, yeah –- it was a real good thing," Eli replied sarcastically, sitting up on his bed in annoyance. "Clare is JUST the person I want to see when I'm at my worst - because, you know, I don't think I scared her enough when I crashed my car for her or yelled at her for sabotaging our relationship or had drugs planted in her locker."
Adam winced at Eli's angry tone. He never knew how to handle angry Eli. Sarcastic Eli; smartass Eli; indignant Eli; even stupid, romantic Eli Adam could navigate. But angry Eli - intense Eli -self-loathing Eli was a different story entirely.
"Eli, dude. Calm down. I'm sure Clare handled your panic attack just fine. It is Clare, after all," Adam soothed, his face tight with worry.
Eli ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He turned to Adam. "Do you know I hit her?" he spat out bitterly, watching as Adam's face paled. "Yep. I hit Clare Edwards. There she was, trying to fucking save me from myself –- again! - and I go and cold cock her."
Eli's words seemed to hang in the air over the quiet room - the atmosphere around the two boys thickening with tension. Unaware of his movements, Eli began rocking back and forth in agitation.
"You cold cocked her?" Adam whispered shocked. "Holy shit, Eli!"
"Well, I don't think I knocked her out. But she was sporting a pretty decent shiner the next day," Eli admitted miserably, grabbing his hair by the roots.
"Eli, it wasn't your fault," Adam offered sympathetically, getting up from his spot on the floor and cautiously sitting next to Eli on the bed. "I'm sure Clare understands. She knows what you've been going through. You can't beat yourself up for this."
"No," Eli huffed bitterly, "why beat myself up when I can beat up Clare?"
"Eli!"
Eli shook his head in defeat. "It sucks, Adam, you know? No matter what I do, I just end up hurting her." His voice cracked. "I try so hard –- so goddamned hard - but I keep hurting her."
He looked up at Adam, his eyes red. "Do you know how horrible it is to see the look of fear in her eyes –- the look of pity?" His hands, balled into fits on his lap, began to shake. "She used to look at me like I was the most important thing in her world and now… it's like…she doesn't even see me anymore. She just sees some person who needs help –- some crazy, charity case… I just…fuck!" he broke off in exasperation.
"Eli, dude," Adam interjected, putting a calming hand on Eli's arm. Looking at the miserable boy awash in self-loathing, Adam took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Look, you know that I care about you both. You and Clare are my best friends." Adam paused nervously, swallowing his fear. He didn't know if this was the right moment, but he had to try. "Listen, man, I'm not saying this to make you feel any worse than you are already feeling but..."
At Adam's resolute tone, Eli looked up suspiciously, his eyes cold.
Stalling, Adam cleared his throat. "Uh … well, you see…Eli … dude, as much as I hate to say it … I really think it's time for you to…uh…. close the chapter on you and Clare."
Eli's eyes narrowed, and he abruptly shook Adam's hand off of his arm.
Jumping off the bed, Adam began to pace, figuring that since he was dealing with unpredictable, angry Eli, it would be best to stay out of striking range.
"Just hear me out," Adam continued, throwing up his hand, as if to ward off Eli's ire. "You and Clare had something really special –- I mean really special. But it didn't work out, Eli." Adam glanced nervously at Eli, trying to gauge his reaction. "It sucks, man, but that's life for you."
Finding his stride, Adam's voice took on a more confident tone. "Eli, you've said it over and over again - you are not good for Clare. My God, look at what she's had to go through this past year with you! I'm not going to rehash it all because my purpose isn't to make you feel bad, but, dude, the poor girl has been through so much. It's not fair to her—you know it's not fair to her."
Adam stopped and locked eyes with Eli. "And, honestly, I don't think Clare's good for you either."
Shaking his head angrily, Eli started to protest, but Adam cut him off.
"When you are with her –- hell, even when you are not with her, you are always thinking about her; pining over her; worrying about her. Eli, you are totally obsessed with Clare, and the two of you are not even together anymore." Adam's voice rose emphatically, his voice reaching a pitch higher than he normally liked. "Seriously, man, the only person you should be obsessively worrying about right now is yourself." His tone became almost pleading. "You need to focus on getting better, and you can't do that if you are always thinking about Clare –- hoping to see her- wondering what she thinks about you - beating yourself up about her."
Pausing, he sat back down on the bed and looked at Eli tentatively. "Look, I'm glad Clare was there to help you through this last panic attack but, dude, don't take her help as an invitation to start something up again. Don't start obsessing over her again. It's time to let her go, Eli - once and for all."
Eli looked at Adam in silence, his face guarded, his eyes narrowed coldly.
Adam swallowed uneasily, but maintained eye contact in the silent stand-off. He had finally said it –- finally said what had been hanging unacknowledged between the two friends since Eli had driven his hearse into that goddamned wall. And as he nervously held Eli's ferociously icy gaze, Adam just hoped that their friendship could survive a bit of impromptu honesty.
Finally, after what seemed to Adam like an eternity, Eli broke the silence.
"Clare offered to bring me my work from this week," he muttered gruffly, an undercurrent of triumph marking his words. Looking squarely at Adam, Eli's face took on a calculating look, his smug smirk firmly in place. "In fact, I'm expecting her to drop by any time now."
"Shit, Eli!" Adam cried in exasperation. "If you needed your work, you should have called me!"
He stood up and started pacing the room again, waving his arms frantically. "You just can't leave her alone, can you? What's it going to take for both of you to finally realize that this thing you have is not a good thing?"
Adam spun around and glared at Eli, all his previous trepidation forgotten. "She is not good for you right now, Eli! And you are certainly not good for her!" He shook his head in anger and frustration. "Shit, man, do you know how hard it is to sit by and watch my two best friends destroy each other? I thought it was bad when you two weren't speaking. But this is a million times worse." He pressed his lips together in a tight grimace.
"So which one of you is going to end up broken this time, huh?" he huffed angrily. "Who am I going to have to scrape off of the floor when everything blows up yet again? Should I take bets? Maybe we should sell tickets—make some money from all this fucking drama! Oh wait!" he cried sarcastically hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand. "I forgot –- you already did that when you wrote a fucking play about you and Clare! Damn it, Eli!"
"Look, Adam," Eli said, his own voice tight with annoyance but resolutely determined as well. "I appreciate your concern, but I can handle this."
"No, you DUMBASS!" Adam shouted, his face red and angry. "You have proven time and time again that you CANNOT handle anything having to do with Clare Edwards! She's your kryptonite, man!"
Adam's words hung in the air; the two boys rendered speechless in the aftershock of the passionate outburst. They had argued before but never like this. Adam had always been too afraid of setting Eli off to be completely honest with him. But now, for better or for worse, all of the cards had been laid out on the table.
Adam looked at Eli, breathing hard. It was a pivotal moment in their relationship as best friends. How would Eli react? Would he freak out? Would he order Adam to leave? Adam had no idea what to do next. Oh crap, maybe he had gone too far. But he just couldn't stand helplessly by and watch Eli go down that road yet again.
Suddenly, Eli laughed, realizing the intense absurdity of the moment. Grinning good-naturedly, he looked at Adam, effectively breaking the anxious mood. "She's just dropping off my work, Adam," he pointed out logically. "We're not eloping."
"'She's just dropping off my work …'" Adam mocked furiously, his voice rising in pitch. Fuck good-natured, rational Eli and his stupid grin!
"Sure, you say that like it's no big deal," Adam continued bitterly. "But tell the truth, Eli, you've been thinking about nothing else for the last two days, haven't you? You've been sitting here waiting for that doorbell to ring, practicing what you are going to say when Clare Edwards comes around. Am I right?"
Eli's face colored, and he dropped his gaze to the floor.
"Shit!" Adam cried in desperation.
Infuriated, Adam started pacing again, muttering to himself under his breath. "Stupid, obsessed… son of a … Clare… hurt.. freaking idiot …not end well…"
Suddenly, Adam broke off his acerbic tirade, his eyes taking on a far away look. "OK, I can fix this," he mused, absent-mindedly stroking the bizarre cat statue Eli kept in his room. "All is not lost."
He turned to Eli determinedly, "Here's what we are going to do." Adam's voice dropped conspiratorially. "If Clare comes today, I'll run defense for you. I will answer the door while you stay here in your room." He gestured towards the bed. "I'll just tell her you are sleeping or something." He held up his hand anticipating Eli's argument. "Don't worry, I won't be rude. I'll thank her nicely for getting your work and say that you will see her at school."
Eli opened his mouth to protest, but Adam cut him off.
"Now, if Clare doesn't come today, we will have to recruit CeCe in our plan. CeCe will have to be your main line of defense. She will have to answer the door and give the excuse for you." He paused, his face flushing in excitement.
"Once Clare has dropped off the work and gone home," he continued eagerly, "it should be smooth sailing. If you see Clare at school, you just thank her for bringing you your work and go on your merry way—no harm, no foul." Adam smiled and adjusted his beanie. "After that, it's all about avoidance which I can totally help with." He put his hand over his heart in a gesture dripping with mock sincerity. "I, being the amazing friend I am, will continue to act as best friend to you both while covertly making sure that each of you stays out of the other's way. It's totally genius in a Special Ops kind of way!"
"Adam, I don't ..." Eli began. But, before he could finish his sentence, the doorbell rang - its ominous clang echoing through the house and heralding the arrival of a visitor.
The two boys paused, looking silently at each other, each hesitant to make the first move. Finally pulling himself together, Adam rose and turned toward the bedroom door, gesturing for Eli to stay. Adam had the door open and was walking out of the room, when, suddenly, he was roughly pushed aside. Falling back painfully against the door jamb, he watched dumbly, as a black streak raced by him and out into the hall.
"You little fucker!" Adam shrieked, taking off after Eli and grabbing him by the back of his t-shirt.
Eli twisted in Adam's grasp, wrenching himself free, only to feel the other boy jump on his back and attempt to put him in a headlock.
"Get off of me!" Eli huffed, pushing his body backwards and slamming Adam into a wall.
Bruised but undaunted, Adam only grasped Eli tighter.
Ignoring the 125 pound drag on his frame and the significant loss of airflow, Eli continued his labored path down the stairs and to the door. He tried to find an advantage and extricate himself from Adam's grasp by sharply elbowing Adam in the ribs. However, Adam hung on tenaciously, ultimately slowing Eli's progress by tightening his hold on Eli's windpipe.
Yet, marshaling some superhuman strength, Eli obstinately soldiered on, gasping shallowly as he approached the door.
"Kryptonite! Kryptonite!" Adam shrieked, his tone high-pitched and desperate, as Eli, coughing violently, reached for the door handle and swung the door open.
Clare Edwards stood on the landing, her expression one of confusion, as she looked at the two boys.
Eli's face was beet red, his breath labored. Adam, his beanie askew on his head, clung to Eli's back, his arm around Eli's neck in a chokehold.
"Should I even ask?" Clare queried cautiously, holding a stack of books in front of her like a shield.
Admitting defeat, Adam released Eli and, with as much dignity as he could muster, slid off of Eli's back. "Hey, Clare," he greeted, not able to hide his annoyance.
Finding his own voice, Eli croaked out a pathetic explanation. "Adam was just showing me a new wrestling move he learned from Drew."
"Did Drew learn the move from Superman?" Clare teased. "Because I could have sworn I heard someone shouting something about kryptonite."
"Yeah, well, um…" Eli stuttered, looking pleadingly at Adam.
Rolling his eyes, Adam came to Eli's rescue. "Clare, don't you know by now that all of life's greatest lessons come to us from superheroes? Geeze, woman, keep up."
"Right," Clare smiled. She glanced back shyly at Eli whose face was starting to return to its normal, pale shade. "Um, I have your work."
Eli felt his cheeks coloring again. "Great. Uh, yeah, why don't you come in?" He stepped back from the doorway, purposely pushing Adam roughly out of the way, as Clare brushed past them.
In return, Adam narrowed his eyes at Eli and sourly mouthed, "Kryptonite."
Eli silently flipped him off and followed Clare's retreating figure.
"So," Clare said, as she made her way into the living room, "I have all of your work for the week here. Most of your teachers were fairly amenable – except for Perino and your math teacher. They both gave me the work but pretty much implied that you were so far behind that it would make no difference." She winced slightly and looked at Eli. "Actually … how far behind are you?"
"I… uh…," Eli swallowed nervously. He had hoped to avoid this. "Well, as it stands right now, I'm pretty much failing all of my classes," he admitted embarrassed.
"Dude!" Adam cried. "What the hell, Eli?"
Eli glared at Adam. "It's been a rough couple of months, OK?"
"Yeah, but you should have, at least, said something," Adam replied indignantly. "I could have helped you."
"Yeah, because you are in all of my classes," Eli said sarcastically. He sighed defeatedly. "Thanks, Adam. But you can't really help me with this."
"No, but I can," Clare offered softly.
The two boys turned to her.
She glanced at Eli warily. "I mean, we practically have the same classes, just at different times of the day." She swallowed nervously and continued. "I could help you get back on track, Eli. I mean … if you don't think that would be too weird or anything."
Adam frantically cleared his throat, desperately trying to think of a solution to Eli's current academic issues that didn't include Clare Edwards. "You know who would be a perfect tutor, Eli? Drew! You guys have the same history class right?"
Eli looked at Adam in shock, unable to formulate a reply.
"Is Drew even passing his history class this year?" Clare asked with a grin.
"He's got a solid D-," Adam replied defensively.
Sensing the need to switch tactics, Adam turned to Eli. "What about Fiona or Imogen? You guys have some of the same classes."
"Adam, you know Fiona's a second year senior right?" Eli offered sarcastically. "She tells everyone it's because she missed so much school last year, but she didn't miss that much. Her grades were just really, really bad. Ask her about the Trojan War some time, if you don't believe me. And Imogen could help me catch up in drama class, but you know as well as I do that she has very little interest in any of her other classes. Hell, she spends more time drawing anime characters and covertly writing 'Mrs. Imogen Goldsworthy' all over the margins of her notes than she does listening to lectures. Besides, she's not in any of my advanced classes."
Sensing the awkward tension in the room, Clare smiled nervously. "You know, it was just a thought," she said softly. "I totally understand if it makes you uncomfortable."
"No!" Eli cried vehemently. He forced his voice to calm. "It's actually a really nice offer, Clare."
In a last ditch effort, Adam was overcome by a fit a coughing. "Huh-huh-kryptonite!" he hacked in desperation.
Eli's mouth tightened, and he glared at his friend before turning back to Clare. "You would really be helping me out," he said with smile. "Thank you."
Adam sighed in defeat.
"No problem," Clare replied smiling a genuine smile in return.
Eli felt his heart soar in response. He reminded himself that Clare was just being nice – she was just offering to tutor him –but, regardless, he couldn't stop a stupid grin from unfolding.
"So, how do you want to work this?" he asked nervously.
"Well, I have the newspaper most days after school, but we could meet after that," Clare replied.
"Are you sure you're not too busy to tutor Eli?" Adam asked, hope coloring his words. "I mean, with school and the newspaper and everything, you won't have much time for a social life."
"It's fine," Clare said firmly. "Presently, I don't have much of a social life to begin with," she added flatly. "Besides," she smiled, "the way I look at it, anything that keeps me out of the house, is a bonus."
"Great!" Eli acknowledged, ignoring Adam's sarcastic eye roll. "So then tomorrow at …."
"Four?" Clare offered.
"Awesome," Eli smiled looking down, a blush coloring his cheeks.
Adam blew out an exasperated breath.
"Well, then," Clare said, "I'll let you boys get back to your superhero wrestling game." She winked at Adam and turned back towards the foyer. "I'll see you tomorrow at four, Eli."
"Clare," Eli called, catching up with her in time to open the door for her. "I really appreciate this. I mean, I had just about reconciled myself to repeating my senior year, or, at the very least, wasting my summer in summer school."
Clare paused and looked at Eli searchingly. "You are one of the most intelligent people I know, Eli. If there's one thing you are not, it's a failure. You just need a little help remembering that." Giving him a shy smile, she turned on her heel and walked down the steps.
Stunned, Eli watched her retreating form, his mind reeling. When she had finally walked out of sight, he let out the breath he had been holding and closed the door.
He sauntered back into the living room, a smug smirk on his face.
"I hate you," Adam said sarcastically from his sprawled seat on the couch.
"No you don't."
"Fine, I don't hate you," Adam replied begrudgingly. "But, I do think you are totally crazy."
"Join the club, man," Eli laughed.
"Seriously, dude," Adam cautioned. "If you go there with her again, you are going to wish for a zombie apocalypse- if only to put you out of your misery."
"Adam…"
"No, Eli, listen. I'm your friend. I'll be there for you, but, honestly, I think this is completely messed up."
"She's just tutoring me, man."
Adam looked at Eli, for the first time noticing just how animated the usually defeated boy had become since Clare's offer. God, was that hope he saw in Eli's eyes? – happiness? Hell, what was the harm in letting the kid be happy for a little while, at least.
"Whatever," Adam huffed good-naturedly, his expression softening.
He grinned, changing the subject. "So …what do you say we get back to that superhero wrestling match? I almost had you. If we hadn't had to stop for Clare, I'm pretty sure I would have been lording my victory over you by now."
Adam stood and assumed an exaggerated wrestling pose. "Come on, Eli. 'Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?'"*
"Seriously?" Eli questioned, shaking his head. He smiled affectionately at Adam. "You really are one bizarre, little dork, Torres."
"It takes one to know one, man. It takes one to know one."
...
*Quote from the 1989 movie Batman – directed by Tim Burton, written by Sam Hamm and Warren Skaaren, based on the characters created by Bob Kane
