A/N: Yay! I managed to get this one out this month! This chapter is very cut down from its original outline, I didn't expect it to be as long as it was. I'm trying to keep things under 10,000 words, I feel like going over it is when things are going to start getting tedious, and this chapter is just 500 words from reaching that limit. I've kinda changed up my original plans for chapter ends, next chapter is going to have a much more dramatic end than originally intended, (I think it was supposed to happen in the middle of next chapter, but I like the idea of it being an end a lot better now) so get excited for that! Yes, if you're wondering about the scene with the dufflebag, that was totally inspired by Life Is Strange Before The Storm Episode 2.
SPOILER ALERT: (not really, but if you really wanna go in blind for this you can skip this little message until you read the chapter) the part where Clementine is skating is referenced! If you're interested in a visual of what her skating's supposed to be like in that scene, search up "Taylor Sirset National Showcase 2012" on youtube, the first option should be an ice skating performance to A Thousand Years. I will be posting a link to the video on my profile.
WARNING: The opening scene to this is very disturbing. I'm considering having the rating moved up to M by next chapter for various reasons, if anyone has a problem with that, please say so.
Review Responses:
longdayz: Can I just say...Thank you so much for this review, the fact my writing is enough to be looked into this much means so much. I know writing long reviews like this can be so hard, I'm so glad you're interested in my story! Even with the negatives, I really do appreciate all that you said.
For your inquiry about why I added Clementine's P.O.V, yes, my original intention was that the story be told from Luke, and that it was actually being written by him, but when I started making the outline, I realized how barren this story would be without Clementine's added thoughts and perspectives. The original reason I considered it was because of the age gap, I felt like if I kept it in Luke's perspective, it could be believed that Clementine was "forced" into the relationship, and that would make it creepy and disturbing. But that was before I outlined it and decided exactly what the romantic scenes were, and how those as well as their relationship was gonna play out, and I feel like with what I have, it'd be easy to see Clementine is attracted to Luke, and completely consenting to everything that happens between them, even without her added perspective. But Clementine sees and experiences a lot of things that I think having her perspective removed would be a wasted opportunity.
I decided this before writing chapter 1, so I guess now I gotta explain why I would keep the opening scene as it is. Well, that opening scene was the very first thing I imagined for this fanfiction, and ultimately what made me decide to write this stupid idea up as a series and post it online, so I hold it dear to me. I have it as a perfect picture in my head, and despite being a writing mistake, I can't imagine this fanfiction without the scene in its current state. I'd respond to the Jane dilemma in full, but this is already a really long response, so let me just say all the things you said I'm gonna keep in mind for super chapters, and I might add a mention of Jane in earlier chapters as you mentioned. Thank you for reading!
unnbrella: Your continuing support for this fic brightens my day! Thanks so much for reviewing. I know I messaged you about this, but I'm just gonna type it out for anyone else who is confused and wants an answer. Clementine and Duck are adopted siblings, Sarah isn't related, literally or by adoption, she's someone who is commonly babysat by their same babysitter (Sandra, Luke) because Carlos takes long work trips that keep him from his house at continuous periods of time. The two families are friends. I'm sorry if I didn't specify that! I'm so sorry I keep teasing you with Clem's skating! I promise you that she'll be skating soon, really soon. (as in this chapter.) I'm also glad to hear you're a fan of eleven yr old Clem, that's always how I imagined her being if she wasn't in the apocalypse, and I'll try to see if I can add some flashbacks with her! Thank you for reading!
Guest: (regarding Lee and Clem's parents' influence on her life) I'm really happy to hear that you like how everyone is being implemented! I really wanted to focus on that. Answers and more information on Lee and Clementine's parents are coming soon! Stay tuned! Thank you for reading.
Trigger Warnings: Alcoholism, Domestic Abuse, Blood, Accidental Self Harm, Mentions of Suicide, Implied Sexual Intercourse while Intoxicated.
Playlist:
1. Help Me Out by Alicks
2. Panther by Made In Heights
3. Mooncatch by Lontalius
4. A Thousand Years by Christina Perri
5. So Sad, So Sad by Varsity
6. Running Low by Blackbear
Icicles:
Chapter 4
x
roseabellaaa
His mother hasn't left her room for days.
Luke wonders if she'll ever come out.
There's not much to miss, even in her absence, the house was the same. Silent and unmoving, with creaking floorboards and the chirps of cicadas that can be heard from the open windows.
His father won't say more than a few words to him, just as before.
His mother isn't speaking to him, just as before.
They both tended to his needs, nothing more, nothing less.
The eleven-year-old spends his free nights whittling with a block of wood, quiet and alone, just as before.
That chill that slowly makes it's way up his spine has become familiar to him, the odd thing is, he's never even cold.
Now he's finishing his tiny wooden horse, that he's been whittling together for the last hour and a half, in truth, it's nothing to be proud of, but it's better than he's ever done before. He's too confident when he slides his pocket knife down all too quickly and slices a deep cut into his thumb.
The thick blood leaks down his palm and stains portions of the wood scarlet, he drops the item in his hand and feels his breathing quicken at the sight before him. His stomach pumping in and out anxiously, tiny drops of scarlet drip on the floor and at his feet, he rushes out his room and down the stairs. He puts his hand under the kitchen sink and lets the water wash the cut out, it stings and he can feel every flush of water that flows into his skin. He can't call for his dad, there's no doubt he's already busy with his farm work, and his mom...
Her room is right by the kitchen, he can see the dusted over door not far behind him, he trails his way over slowly, holding a damp cloth over his bloody hand and knocks, not expecting an answer.
"Mom?"
Nothing.
He tries again. "Mom? I need your help."
He puts his uninjured hand on the doorknob, turning it, anticipating the click of a locked door, but he's relieved when the door actually begins to open.
Not a single light is on, nothing but the daylight that shines through the curtains, and the shadows of the room that are tall and compressing. On the other side of the room, is the large bed, belonging to his mother, who lays in the middle, her face deep in a pillow, all he can see is the mess of graying dark hair. The side table is covered from each corner in beer bottles and other drinks he can't recognize, he even sees some amongst the mess on the ground.
"Mom?"
She doesn't move an inch, but he can see her hand clench into a tight fist. She says something, but it's muffled and he can't hear it.
After a couple of seconds, he watches her shuffle in her spot, contorting her body as she sits up, her back to him as she speaks harshly.
"It's your fault."
He's almost glad he can't see the look on her face, because if he did, he might just burst out crying.
She continues, but her voice changes drastically, it wavers, filled with pain. "You and your father, you're both so terrible. Why would you do this to me?"
The ragged links of her spine poke out from her white tank top, he can't remember the last time he has seen his mother eating, but she has never appeared this thin, he can see every crevice of her arms and back, the bones, muscles, and vertebrates. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end, and he can feel a chill rush through his skin.
"I love you so much, Lucas. I'd do anything for you, I'd die for you."
He opens his mouth to speak, becoming aware of the dryness in his throat. "I love you too, Ma." He croaks.
"No, you don't." Her demeanor changes again, her voice filled with venom, her words meant to hurt him.
Her constant change and shifts in mood are something he's familiar with, he's experienced them more than a few times, but it didn't make it any less degrading.
He instinctively takes a wary step back as his mother turns her head toward him, letting him finally catch sight of her. Dark shades of gray are packed under his eyes, her hair is unkempt, visibly dry and brittle, and she's wearing the same thing she was when she first shut herself in the room. Her eyes are tinted pink, the color darkening at the edges of her waterline. So many tears his mother had cried because of him and his father, she made sure he was aware of that.
"I miss being your age, I didn't even realize how easy everything had been for me. You're so lucky, Lucas, you don't deserve to suffer." She gets out of the bed with a grunt, he hopes she's gotten past her feelings and is coming to help him, so he mirrors her sloppy movements until they meet and she takes a gentle grip on his wrist as she draws it closer to her.
She's smiling, softly with half-lidded eyes, it's almost as if the deep cut of his palm isn't even there, like it's just spilled juice or a stain. Her other hand, clenched shut, holding something, hovers just above his palm, dropping five or six small tablets into his hand. To his ignorant mind, they look like Tic Tacs, big red and blue Tic Tacs.
"These are sleeping pills, honey."
"These are dads, right? So he can sleep."
She nods slowly. "But with this much, you and I, we can sleep forever."
Luke's already rushed heartbeat seems to spike. "Forever? L-Like dying?"
"Don't say it like that." She says with a giggle. "You make it sound so bad when you say it like that. Lucas, I'm saving you, do you understand?" With her son's visible hesitation, she sighs. "Your father, he's trying to make you into a machine, I can't let that happen."
"-But I don't wanna...die."
"You don't now, but one day you will, and you'll wish you took these." She explains it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and Luke wonders if he's missing something here, he doesn't want to disappoint her, or bring her more pain than he already has, but he certainly doesn't want to die, at least he thinks he doesn't.
"No!" He shouts now, throwing the pills to her feet, his face falling just seconds later as he sees the way her expression lowers, pure hatred leaking into her like an oil spill.
She picks a majority of the pills from the ground, dust and all, jumping up to force him to the ground with her free hand, pinning him. "This is for the best, it is! you just don't understand!" She hisses, shoving the pills into his mouth.
He coughs and sputters, he feels warm tears falling down his cheeks and attempts to call her, he feels paralyzed under her weight, unable to move a muscle as she manually unhooks his clenched jaw and continues her efforts. If a pill spills out, she's sure to put it back in. It isn't long until they are getting stuck in the back of his throat, and he's heaving dryly, making sharp choking sounds as he feels himself lose consciousness.
"Please!"
He sits up as he shrieks, waking from his nightmare, his muscles twitching, the feeling of his mother clawing at him deliriously begins to fade, and his chest pushes in and out with his heavy, audible breaths.
He runs his palm through his tangled hair, it's soaked in sweat that drips onto his blanket and trails down his neck. God, he hasn't had those types of nightmares in years. It comes as a shock to him, and something seems to squeeze at his heart and make him despise his subconscious for letting him have such dreams. He really thought he was over it, he really did.
Memories of his family were something he convinced himself was destined to haunt him forever, yet these days, they only crossed his mind briefly, with barely a second thought. It was unbelievable how easy it was for people to forget about some things that were once so prominent in their life. Well, *forget* may not be the right word, more like, push to the back of their minds. He was once used to nightmares like these, it always started off as a memory of his childhood, but with a dark twist. If his mother, wherever she was at this point, knew he thought of her doing something like that, murdering him, he was sure she'd tell him how selfish and victimizing he was.
His phone rings obnoxiously, interrupting the words he can imagine his mother telling him.
Luke's first instinct is to ignore the call, he follows that thought, rolling over to his cellphone that's sitting on the nightstand and reaching his hand over it.
Clem. The screen displays.
Why would she be calling him?
He reconsiders his original plan and picks up the phone, sliding his finger across the screen.
"Clem?"
"Luke, are you awake?"
"Nah, I'm fast asleep." He jokes.
"Oh my god. Stop."
There's an exchange of broken laughter between the too, and as that fades, there's a silent pause.
"Are you okay?"
Luke takes a sharp, worried breath that he hopes she isn't able to hear through the receiver. "Of course. Why?"
"I dunno, I guess you just...sound different."
"Yeah, Clem, I'm good." Luke knows she wasn't calling him just to say hi, so he cuts to the chase before Clementine can utter a word of her reply. "Why'd ya call? Everythin' alright over there?"
Another pause. "Can you...do me a favor?" The girl says softly.
"Me? Why me?"
"Cause...uh..." She goes quiet again
"Cause you hate me?"
"Uh. Cause...you're a Hufflepuff! And Hufflepuffs do anything to help their friends." She states childishly.
He's taken aback for a moment, the memory of taking that Pottermore quiz after being cornered into it by those three kids. And his results, Jesus, he could barely remember getting Hufflepuff, and she recalls it as if it's the most well known of facts.
"What is it you wish for me to do, my dearest Gryffindor?" He questions, his tone strong and drawn out, as if reading a line from a Shakespeare play.
"Your dearest Gryffindor?"
"Are you avoiding the question?"
She takes a few seconds to reply. "N-No! No! Just-I need a drive to school."
"And Kenny or Katjaa can't do this?"
"Katjaa's working, and Kenny's-an ass when he wakes up. And you know who isn't working and isn't an ass?"
"Me?"
"You." She confirms. He can hear the smile in her voice.
He's out the door twenty minutes later, he's come to realize Clementine's quite talented at sweet talking people into doing things for her, either that or he was just an easy person to manipulate. Unfortunately, he's pretty sure it's the later.
Once in his car, he watches from his rearview mirror as she comes out of the door of her house, wearing jeans and some band hoodie he doesn't recognize, if he had of forgotten she was a teenager, the band hoodie would have reminded him. She's not wearing the hat he's seen her in all these years, it might be the first time he's ever seen her without it. She has her backpack, as well as a second duffle bag that she puts in the backseat of his car before opening and sitting in the passenger's seat.
"Can I just say, this is such an upgrade from Kenny's truck." She says in greeting.
"Yeah, barely had it for a year after I bought it off him till it broke down." He turns the keys in the ignition and the car rumbles to a start. "Sorry to say this and don't tell Kenny, but I think he scammed me."
"Oh yeah, he definitely scammed you, I can't believe you fell for it too, I was like twelve and I could still tell he was bullshitting you."
He can appreciate the honesty.
"You go to Athens Academy, right?"
"Yeah."
After the car comes to a halt at a stop sign, he eyes her attire up and down before returning his sights to the road, the car going forward again. "Isn't it like, preppy? Ya know with...uniforms?"
"Yeah, ugly ass uniforms, mind you."
"An ugly ass uniform you should probably be wearing?"
There are no signs of surprise, she picks up the backpack by her feet and opens it. "It's in here." She announces, pulling out the collection of wrinkled fabrics, practically screaming for an ironing job that he doubts would be able to save it at this point.
"So..." His voice trails off awkwardly, regarding the teenager with an arched brow as she unfurls the uniform's pleated green skirt. "You're not plannin' on changin' in here, right?"
"No!" She screeches, letting her head fall into the soft clothing in her hands. "You wish!"
"I do not wish! I'm just checkin'."
She faces the window, notably quiet as she nibbles on her bottom lip. "I'm giving them back." She says simply.
"Givin' em back for what?"
"Giving them back for...ever? I dropped out last week."
His eyebrows shoot up in revelation. "Dropped out? Why?"
"I'm pregnant."
He loses control of the vehicle for just a moment, the car swerving around the relatively empty roads before finding its balance again. "P-Pregnant? Seriously?"
She doesn't say anything, and his eyes are far from the road so he can give her a begging stare. "Y-You're serious?"
She slumps back into her seat, unbothered. "Luke, don't crash the car. I'm joking."
His shoulders slump, he feels like he should've known that, he could never imagine her in such a situation, not even accidentally. But the shock of her confession made the whole thing fly right by him. Not only that, but she seems to be quite the fan of teasing him, something that has been a trait of hers since her youth. Maybe she would joke around with him less if he weren't so gullible. He exhales a breath. "So, you're not pregnant, and you're not droppin' out?"
"No, I'm still dropping out." She explains. "But I'm not pregnant. Like seriously, dude, I've never even had a boyfriend before."
He brushes past her last comment, not thinking much of it. "Why are you droppin' out then?"
"I need to focus on skating, it's more important."
He parks the car in a space right near the school grounds, and she asks him to stay in his spot while she returns her school belongings, and he does.
Luke would have never thought he'd hear such words out of the girl's mouth. Sure, ice skating had always been a passion of hers, and it was one of the biggest priorities in her life, but never to such a level as this. At least, it didn't seem that way. Although, the last time he was seriously discussing figure skating with her; she was eleven, with many different interests and hobbies, and not skating so much she was breaking her legs.
If he had a say, he'd tell her this was a bad idea, he'd advise her to stay until she got her diploma, just in case anything were to happen. It's not that he didn't believe abilities and talents, but any career in sports was a hard one to obtain, and he still hasn't had the chance to see her skating for himself, he has no way of judging her capabilities. But he keeps that to himself, not only is the action already done, but he didn't want to cloud her thoughts with his rare pessimistic feelings toward the matter.
Besides, he was optimistic about many things, she knew that. He shouldn't be doubting her. If Clementine was anything, she was resilient.
After a couple minutes of waiting, and nearly falling asleep, he hears a tapping on the car window to the right of him that has him boost from his seat. Clementine stands by the door and Luke rushes to hit the button that will unlock it for her.
She chastises him for nearly falling asleep, but other than that, silently observes the cars, people, and trees from outside the window. She was good at making it clear when and when not she was in the mood for a conversation, and not wanting to annoy her, he focuses on the road.
School had been so important to him growing up, he may not have been the perfect student, with his B average and 3.4 GPA, but so many memories had been made for him in his last few years of highschool, and he couldn't imagine missing out on that, for any circumstance.
He drives into his own driveway and watches from the corner of his eye as Clementine gets up from the position she had stuck to for the majority of the drive, stretching her arms and opening the car door.
She slouches over from where she's standing to look at him through the open window. "Thanks for doing this, I know it sucks to wake up so early."
"No problem. I think I might have needed a drive anyway." He says vaguely, hoping she won't request a further explanation from him.
Her eyebrows raise, her eyes moving to the side, she looks as if she's about to ask but she doesn't, nodding before moving as if she's about to leave.
"-Don't forget the bag." The duffle bag, he had noticed her not bring it in when she went into the school, and made a note to make sure it wasn't forgotten.
She takes a quick glance of the backseat, amber irises returning to him as her lips raise into a gentle smile. "That's for you."
There's a sweetness in her voice that he isn't used to, and it worries him slightly. "It's a bomb, isn't it?"
"Maaaaaaaaaybe." She hums. "You'll just have to find out!" She flips around and walks down his driveway before he can convince her to stay any longer.
It was the hat. That goddamn hat.
The bag had also been filled with tons of baked goods, like cookies and brownies, which after eating, he recognized as Katjaa's baking. There was a long, yellow scarf, with thin black stripes, it was a couple weeks until it hit him one day while looking at the tag that it was Harry Potter themed merchandise, specifically Hufflepuff.
The blue and white baseball cap, with a bold cursive D in the middle was the thing that stuck out to him the most. The best assumption he could make was that she didn't want it anymore, but he would've thought it'd be thrown out, not given to him. Even if he couldn't figure out why she'd want to hand it down to him, or what to do with it now that it was his, he kept it on the dresser in his room, but never wore it.
He didn't see her for a very, very long time. Two years to be exact.
He didn't want it to end up this way, he tried to message her, and he greeted her whenever they'd catch one another outside their respective houses, but his messages were either unread or ignored, and their greetings were brief. He just couldn't wrap his head around what was happening to them.
He thought that day would be the last time he truly had the chance to meet and speak with her, but he was proven wrong the day he got an email from her address. Or more formally, an invitation.
Good Evening!
On Friday, March 9th, the Queens Recreation Center will be holding their tenth annual Spring Figure Skating Show, to which I'll be a participating, and kindly request that you attend. Tickets are $10 this year, snacks and drinks are sold separately for prices ranging between $2-$5. Thank you for your time! Please consider attending, I will greatly appreciate it.
Email me in advance if you plan on coming. If you have any inquiries feel free to contact this email or the email on the Queens Figure Skating Club website.
Best Regards,
Clementine Hutchinson.
His answer is short, and skips over all the professional speel Clementine had added to hers.
I'll be there.
He can tell by the multiple emails on the sent list, that the email was meant for more people than just him. He isn't sure how to feel about her sudden choice to contact him after so long, but he doesn't intend on missing out on it.
Life had not been the best for him in recent years, many things had changed for him. With the departure of Clementine, followed Nick's announcement that he'd be leaving in the next couple of months. He and Stephanie are moving in together, and not just that, but returning to Tennessee. It might just be true that Nick wanted to be home all along, and only remained in Athens for the sake of not having to say goodbye to his best friend.
Luke was hoping that wouldn't be the case.
He wants to be happy for him, he is happy for him. But Luke hasn't felt so...lonely in a long time.
The day of the figure skating show, Nick decides now's the time he wants to start buying furniture for him and Stephanie's house up in Tennessee, and it seems Luke and Vince are along for the ride. A short ride, because the most Nick is definitive on buying is an outdoor dining set before he's already exhausted and wanting to go home.
They're in line when a display of colorful bouquets catch Luke's eye, and cause him to drift from his other two friends and grab the first set of flowers he sees. He's seen very little of Olympic figure skating, but if there is anything he has knowledge on regarding it, it's flowers. Precisely, the fact they're often given to (or more accurately hysterically thrown at) figure skaters after their performances.
"Woah there," he hears the voice of Vince as the shorter man comes toward him. "What's the special occasion?" He asks, eyeing the floral arrangements with a smirk.
He isn't sure how exactly he should explain the situation, so he keeps things vague. "Don't worry about it."
Vince is quick to concede. "Don't want me to know about it? Fine. But can I at least ask that you choose any other bouquet than that one."
"Since when were you a floral connoisseur?" Nick adds.
"Hey, I buy a lot of flowers, girls tend to like them."
The tall man turns away. "Alrighty, womanizer."
Luke stares at the bouquet in his hand. "What's wrong with this one?"
"Lavender draws too many bugs...and it's just...too much." He swiftly takes it from his hand and returns it to its original spot. His dark eyes search through the selection, a hand settling thoughtfully on his chin. After what feels like forever, he chooses a plain bouquet of white roses, no more no less.
He arches a brow, he doesn't see what would make that his ideal choice, all the other bouquets are bursting with bright and beautiful colors, and the simplicity of the white is easily overshadowed in comparison.
"Everyone loves these, man. They're simple, they're easy, but still beautiful. No way you can go wrong."
From how he describes it, Luke can tell he's assuming he's purchasing them for a date. He has the urge to correct him, but is held back by the long-winded explanation he can already imagine himself having to give.
He goes along with it, nodding. "Okay, thanks."
Vince smiles. "Not a problem."
"Are these for Clem?"
Earthy eyes stay on the wide ice rink until he hears the sharp sounds of plastic, as Duck, sitting beside him, crudely grasps onto the bouquet of roses. He squints at it, maneuvering it without care, side to side and even upside down.
Luke places his hand below the roses before they can slip from the plastic, while his other hand removes the flowers from Duck's possession. "Duck, Jesus-"
"Ken." He corrects.
Oh...right.
He knew it was only a matter of time until Du...Ken was going to grow out of his childhood nickname, but that didn't mean it was gonna be any easier for Luke to adjust to. The second he spots the Hammon family in the bleachers, Katjaa and her son are quick to call him and invite him to sit, he sits on the end, between Ken and the stairway to the lower bleachers, and the name change is one of the very first things Ken is sure to tell him.
Katjaa, Kenny, and Ken. Jeez, Ken really didn't have much to work with, he'll never be able to comprehend a parent's choice to give their kid the same name. Adding 'junior', or 'the second' to it, does not make it any better. It seems it was either Ken or Kenneth. He's glad he chose Ken.
"Sorry, Ken."
Katjaa speaks then. "You got flowers too, Luke?"
Obscured by her husband, Luke leans over to spot the bouquet sitting on her lap, it's similar to the one he chose before Vince had intervened, but the flowers are clearly of a different type. Now that he's paying attention, he can see another bouquet with Kenny, sunflowers.
Maybe the white roses were too much? He knew he shouldn't have trusted Vince.
"Can I see them?" The woman asks.
Luke is quick to comply, handing the item to the woman.
"Oh." She coos in delight, smiling as she inhales the fresh flowers. "White roses? How beautiful. She'll love them."
As Katjaa passes them back, and as he takes them, he spots Ken, with his mouth tightly shut, as if trying to restrain himself.
"What is it?"
"Nothing." Ken practically squeaks back, turning to his mother and mumbling to her. "Clementine's gonna freak!"
"Ken, stop it." she hisses.
Ken was nineteen, but Luke can barely find any difference between Ken and the twelve-year-old boy who once called himself Duck. Though, he bared very little of physical similarities to his younger self. Ken's hair, which had once been a simple brunette buzzcut, darkened into the black that his father shared before the majority of his hair had gone grey. It was the tiniest bit shorter than Luke's, thick and unkempt, his bangs just barely obscuring his eyes.
When he had first arrived, Ken was already in his seat, but he seemed tall. With his length, slender proportions and messy raven hair, he almost resembles Nick. Either way, he certainly looked like a nineteen-year-old, the next step was acting like it.
"Ladies and Gentlemen." Came a female voice, booming and echoing through the arena. There stands Clementine's coach, in the middle of the rink with a microphone in hand. Christa, he believed her name was. Luke was acquainted with the woman briefly, but she appears no different from all those years ago, the same tall and confident posture, and tight bun securing her hair.
As the crowd slowly goes silent, Christa clears her throat. "Welcome to the Spring Figure Skating Show! My name's Christa Thomas, and I'm one of the registered coaches at Queens Figure Skating Club, and the lead organizer for this event. I'd like to take the chance to thank all our performers for working hard to make this event fantastic! And most of all, thank you all for showing up today. This show would be nothing without our wonderful audience of family and friends. I hope you enjoy."
Luke follows the crowd in applauding the older woman as she skates off the rink and, after a few seconds, the bright lights of the bleachers begin to dim, but the ice remains brightly lit.
Ken practically throws the brochure onto his lap, muttering something about having forgotten to give it to him when he first arrived.
Opening it, Luke quickly recognizes it as the show's program, and skims through the names within.
Announcer: Clinton Barnes
Lead Organizer and Routine Choreographer: Christa Thomas
Stage Manager: Omid Thomas
Costume Designer: Dee Jones
Performers: (in order of appearance)
Clementine Hutchinson.
He puts the program down before he can read on, whipping his head around to his side. "Clementine's first?"
Ken looks over at him, sucking the straw to his soda and meeting Luke with blinking eyes. Before he can respond, a loud male voice echoes over the speakers.
"First up, we have Clementine Hutchinson, skating to "A Thousand Years" by Christina Perri." The announcer says, answering the question for him.
The place where they're sitting isn't far from the rink, so Luke is quick to spot Clementine skating smoothly toward the center of the ice. Wearing all white, it shines brightly under the lights of the ice rink, and contrasts nicely with her smooth dark skin. Her curly hair is put into a bun, many dark bouncy curls rest along the sides of her face and the back of her neck, it appears disheveled, but in a way that still looks intended and appealing to the eye.
She poses, waiting for the music to start, and once it does, she twirls out of her position and begins to move fluidly around the rink.
Heart beats fast,
Colours and promises,
How to be brave,
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall
As the lyrics begin, her movements are simple, she twirls around the rink and makes graceful motions with her arms and legs, none of it can be delegated to actual dance or figure skating moves at this point, but it goes along nicely with the music, and draws his eyes to her.
But watching you stand alone,
All of my doubt,
Suddenly goes away somehow,
She glides into a one-legged spin, her body blurring as her spin gains momentum and her arm reaches out to the ceiling, her eyes follow her hand, and they convey a longing as she stares above her as the spin slows down. Luke feels the corners of his lip rise into a smile, she's doing splendidly already, and he can't find it in him to look away from her, not even for a second.
As the music reaches the chorus, she starts to explore the other areas of the large body of ice, skating quickly over to the other side of the rink and at one point performing a spinning jump he wouldn't know the name of, and once she lands it, her legs point out elegantly.
Luke notices the way the train of her costume sparkles, and the way the costume is clinging to her as she performs her jumps and spins. Who was the costume designer again? Deedee or something. Either way, he's impressed with the costume choice, cause as Clementine smoothly skates around the rink wearing the pure white garments, she looks like some kind of angel, and it suits the song wonderfully.
Even so, all of that would be worthless if it weren't for Clementine's portrayal, even from the distance between the seats and the ice, she's so expressive he can both see and in a way feel the emotions she's meant to emit. Longing, desire, passion, infatuation, it's all there.
I have loved you for a thousand years,
I'll love you for a thousand more,
Luke becomes lost in his thought as the song come to end, eyes remaining on Clementine as he thinks to himself.
She kept her promise.
"Next time. I promise. The first chance I get."
"I'm gonna try. It might take a long time, but I will. One day, I'm going to perform in front of you, too."
She's true to her word, that's for sure, the thought strengthens his smile, and as Clementine's skates come to a halt in the center of the rink, posing with her arms wrapped around herself, he feels the soreness of his face from smiling so hard.
Knowing her for as long as he has, knowing all the fears she must have had before performing from the last time she had invited him to the show, knowing all her struggles, he's so incredibly proud. With the song coming to an end, he claps enthusiastically, along with the rest of the audience.
She stays in position for a few more seconds, but after awhile, lets herself relax as her arms return to their sides. Her body faces their side of the arena, and he's shocked by how quickly her eyes seem to find her family amongst the crowd, he watches her wave toward Kenny and Katjaa, and notices the exact moment she can see him. Her eyebrows shoot up, and her expression drops slightly, as if taking the moment to process his presence, he does the same to her.
His head snaps back into what's going on, remembering the roses he had bought and rushing to grab them. She's smiling at him, they're making direct eye contact now, he can't be sure, but he's confident they are, he's almost certain. And with that thought, he takes the best shot he can, throwing it with a loud 'woosh' sound.
"Luke!" Ken shouts, muffled by the applause. his hand follows the bouquet and nearly clasps onto it but comes out overall unsuccessful, as the flowers fly over them and to the rink.
His aim isn't the best, it heads far toward Clementine's left, but she's quick to jump into action, gliding over to it and extending her arms so it just barely falls into her arms.
"Clementine Hutchinson." The announcer says dryly, signaling Clementine to bow, she obeys accordingly, holding his bouquet of white roses close to her as she does so.
She skates out of the rink as the clapping slows, and he can see Ken flipping his head over to him, and turns his head slowly to meet the man's gaze, preparing for whatever was in store. Ken stares for several seconds, before he snorts unashamedly, his lips pulled together for a quick moment before they release into a maniacal laughter.
Luke blinks.
"Did you hear how annoyed the announcer was!? You just like, did it! No fucks given, I admire that." When he isn't given any response, the man pauses. "You know you weren't allowed to do that right?"
"Do what?"
"Throw the damn bouquet! It's on the sign out front and everything!"
He thinks the kid's just trying to screw with him at first, but just then he comes to notice the two bouquets still with Kenny and Katjaa, it hadn't been thrown like his bouquet was. When he unfolds the program once again for confirmation, his eyes catch the very first rule quickly.
Regulations:
1. Throwing objects of any kind toward the rink or skaters is strongly prohibited, doing so will result in a request to leave the premises
"..."
"..."
"...I tried to stop you."
The cheers, applause, and music that had once brought a ringing in his ears within the crowded arena, was now just barely audible to him, masked by the thick white walls of the changing room. It was a large room, but the way the glaring walls surrounded him felt confining.
Clementine sat across from him on the benches, adorned in the glittering outfit he had witnessed her in on stage. He takes several looks at her as she goes through the process of unpinning her bun, pulling out pins and accessories as strands of hair slowly fall into place.
Clementine had welcomed him into the empty changing room after being escorted out of the arena for throwing that bouquet.
Standing outside in the damp weather, he hears the sound of one of the backstage doors opening from behind him, turning to see the young woman smiling wide at him. "Hey you!" She says cheerfully.
He stumbles a bit, he hadn't expected to come across her like this, but his face quickly rests into a comfortable smile that she mirrors. "Clem..."
"Ken texted me, come inside."
He follows her without objection. She apologizes that he was sent away by security, and explains that they had an issue with objects being thrown into the rink the previous year, though, those objects were things like trash and haphazard material, not something as harmless as a few flowers. He still isn't really able to accept it, but he admires her effort to defend her company.
"Am I allowed to be in here?"
"I mean..." She plays with a stray curl. "Technically no. But as long as you stay here with me, I can back you up and keep them from taking you out again."
"How about, uh, being in a changeroom?"
"Once again, technically no, but no one's using this changeroom but me, and I don't mind waiting until you can leave."
He nods. "Thanks."
He can't think of much more to say other than that, and it seems neither can she, because from then on, they both stay silent. She moves her hands awkwardly and he can tell she's trying to avoid his gaze by checking her phone or temporarily going to another area of the changing room that obscures her from his vision.
He's almost shameless in the way he doesn't look away from her when she happens to glance at him, incapable of fighting her curiosity. She's quick to break the eye contact he tries to hold. She's nervous, obviously. The effect of the years spent without conversation. As headstrong as she is, it isn't something he's used to from her.
Despite that, she speaks first. "Thanks for these."
Reminiscing about the series of events from only minutes ago, he didn't notice when she had taken his white rose bouquet into her arms. Despite all the drama that had sprouted out of the simple bouquet, he can't deny that it was a wonderful choice, good in a way that even Vince couldn't have been aware of. It blends in with her outfit, matching it completely.
"No problem at all."
"Worth getting kicked out of a recreation center for?"
"You tell me."
She brings the roses up to her face, examining them for only a few seconds before giving him a gentle smile. "Yes."
"Good."
The timid curve of her lips shift into a grin he's more familiar with, fulfillment in her eyes. "I told you you'd see me skate one day."
"I know..." He chuckles. "-and you were amazing, I'm real glad I had the chance to see it for myself."
They sit like that for a while, catching up on things that have happened to them since they last spoke. It's in this moment Luke comes to terms with the fact his life has been about as uneventful as it could be, other than Nick moving, and his promotion to manager at the barely above minimum wage job he's had for the last seven years, he can't come up with anything interesting that will entertain her.
Clementine has a lot to talk about, but keeps it brief nevertheless, leaving it to simple statements. Last year, Sarah had left Athens to attend Harvard University, and at the same time, Clementine became Georgia's best up and coming figure skater, winning gold at regionals and the same in nationals the next year, and he listens intently to all of it.
"Speaking of which..." She begins, shifting a little bit on the bench. "I wanted to...ask you something."
"Yes?"
"Figure skating World Championships are...next year, in Italy! And it's a big deal! For me at least cause...well, first of all, they're championships! People from all over the world are coming, but they're also going to be looking for people to...represent in the Olympics. So, if I do good...I could compete in the Winter Olympics!" The tones in her voice shift as she speaks, between determined, timid and stuttering, and excited, The palms of her hands dig into her knees, shaking as she tugs at her tights. "Um, yeah it's...big, I guess. And well, I was just wondering if..." A pause. "I know it's been awhile since me and you spoke and stuff but it would mean...it would mean the world to me if you came."
His lips part and his eyes stare back at her, wide and questionable. She can't be asking what he thinks she's asking, can she? They hadn't spoken in years, why would she offer him such a thing?
She blinks back at him before beginning to fiddle with her skirt. "Uh...I...You wouldn't have to pay! I'll pay for your plane ticket, and hotel room, and championship ticket. I mean...if you wanna go, you don't have to go...I guess? No, wait, I'm not trying to...I mean...shit...I don't know how to do this."
"Yes."
The anxiety in her expression melts away into confusion. "Huh?"
"Yes! Just...yes. I wanna go! Wow...I can't believe you're inviting me, I'm honored."
A blush blooms across her cheeks, and she punches in the shoulder playfully. "Honored?"
"I'm serious. I can't believe you're asking me."
"Of course I'd ask you."
All the commotion from the arena seems to go quiet for awhile as they hear Christa announce the show's end and thank everyone for coming. Clementine gets up to leave and beckons Luke to follow her so they can meet up with Kenny, Katjaa, and Ken.
They pass through multiple skaters to get to the main hall, they're even stopped by Omid, who greets Luke and compliments Clementine on her performance.
Once they finally get to the entrance, the Hammons are standing to the side waiting for them. They exchanged words of support and encouragement with Clementine that brought a smile to Luke's lips.
Katjaa brings her into a hug. "You were wonderful!"
Once out of Katjaa's embrace, Kenny gives her a silent pat on the back, smiling widely, his feelings clear on his face.
"What did he say?" Ken whispers into her ear unashamedly, peeking at Luke.
She flicks at her adopted brother's forehead. "Yes, he's going."
Ken's attention returned to Luke, squinting. "You better go! She didn't even invite us!"
"I only got two tickets, and one's for Jane."
"So? Who gives a shit about Jane? We're family!"
"You guys are coming for the Olympics, Ken, I promise."
"Your technique is sloppy!"
"Slow down!"
"If you're still falling out of basic jumps like those, you're never gonna make it through the Championship, let alone Olympics."
Her muscles are burning and crying for her to take a break, they had been for the last hour. As much as she wants to continue and eventually give Jane the perfect run through of her routine, she knows continuing to ignore the pain coursing through her body will only make things worse for her.
She slows down her skating, her heart pumping faster than her mind can process the words she wants to say. "J-Jane...Can we take a break, please?"
The brunette woman puts a hand on her hip, a deadpan expression on her face that Clementine prays won't twist into agitation or disappointment. "Fine, you look like you're about to pass out."
"Shit."
"That's good."
"How is 'being on the verge passing out' good?"
Jane ignores the infuriated tone in her voice, passing her metal water bottle to her. "It shows how much you care. I wouldn't be wasting my time with you if you weren't ready to faint for it."
She's not sure if she should say 'thank you','sorry', or both, so she interrupts her own thoughts by gulping down the contents of her water bottle, only stopping to take a few breaths.
"Are you mad at me?" Jane asks, but Clementine knows she doesn't actually care what the answer's gonna be.
"No! Of course not!"
"I know I can be a little harsh when I'm teaching, but just know I do it for your own good. You need to be at your best for the World Championship, and with the last routine you showed me, we got a long way to go."
Clementine falters slightly, giggling to hide her hurt. "But Christa said she thought the last one was really good..."
"Clem, we discussed this." Jane groaned, snatching the water bottle from Clementine's hands before she can take another sip of it. "Christa isn't...a figure skating coach...I mean, she is. But not really. She's one of the best when it comes to making gross thumb-sucking toddlers into skaters, but that's it, her teaching ends there. She doesn't know how to make an ordinary figure skater into an Olympic figure skater."
She looks away, her vision slightly blurred and dizzy, still trying to recover from how hard she had been pushing herself minutes before. "I know, I know."
"I'm still trying to hook you up with my new coach, Joan, but you gotta be ready for every part of you and your skating to be nitpicked and scrutinized. I'm child's play compared to Joan."
Can I have my water bottle back? She wants to ask, but can't find it in herself to let it out.
"Hello? Hello? Excuse me?" Both women switch their gazes over to the entrance of the rink, and see a dark-skinned middle-aged woman standing there with a young child by her side. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"
Clementine glides over to them. "No! What is it you need?"
"My name's Rebecca and I wanted to ask about your company's figure skating classes, something for beginners? He's been begging me to sign him up for figure skating classes since his birthday."
She nibbles on her lip. "Sorry, you'll have to go to Christa for that, today's her day off, could you come back tomorrow?"
The woman opens her mouth to speak, but pauses for a moment as Clementine comes closer. "Your name's Clementine, right? We saw you at the figure skating show, my son was a big fan, right AJ? Say 'hello'." She gently pushes AJ closer to her, but he doesn't speak, he can only look at the ground timidly, hiding behind his mother shortly after. "Sorry, he's shy."
"It's okay..." The sides of Clementine's mouth raise, the kid was too cute for words. A fondness for children had long ago grown in her heart, an affection that likely would have never existed had it not been for the pre-school skating classes she's helped Christa with since turning fourteen. "It's nice to meet you, AJ" she looks up toward his mother, "How old is he?"
"He just turned seven."
"That's a little old to be signing up for beginner figure skating classes." Jane cuts in, the younger of the two had been so distracted by the mother and son that she didn't even notice Jane approaching.
"Really?" Rebecca's face goes sour. "I didn't think that'd be a problem."
"I-It isn't..."
"It is if he wants a career. Clementine and I started when we were three."
"Well, excuse me for not wanting to force a three-year-old to do something they might not even like, or want."
She swears she had something to say that could have calmed the rising heat of the conversation, but it's completely lost on her tongue. Rebecca's words make something lurch deep within her stomach, and she puts a palm on her aching abdomen, trying to heal these ill feelings inside her.
No.
Stop thinking.
Stop it. Stop it.
They're looking at you. Say something.
"Clem?" Jane says, but she's so out of it she can't even respond.
You love figure skating.
You've always loved figure skating
You're a figure skater.
"I...love figure skating."
They all give her odd looks, confused by her actions and change in attitude. She barely notices the fact the words slipped from her lips like that, but she's able to come up with a continuation that will save herself.
"-Which is why...AJ should sign up, even if he's a little older. Perseverance is what it really takes to be a figure skater, if you work hard, you can do anything."
Rebecca's dark eyes glare from Clementine to the taller woman, smirking. "I agree."
Jane lets out a huff, making no attempt to hide her eye roll, skating away from the entrance and back onto the rink, leaving the matter to Clementine.
The forced smile comes easily to her. "We'll be glad to have you, I'll tell Christa to look out for you guys tomorrow."
Luke coughs as a spec of the cologne he's spraying on himself finds it's way onto his tongue, the bitter taste overpowering his tongue as he runs to the kitchen for something to get the taste out of his mouth.
"Hurry up, Luke! The party starts in twenty minutes!" Nick calls, all Luke can do in response is chug the first soda he finds in their fridge.
It was incredibly bewildering for Nick to invite Luke to a party.
It was even more bewildering that Luke didn't want to go.
Luke can't consider himself the type of crazy partygoer who gets blackout drunk the first hour in, but he did enjoy having the chance to talk with people, listen to music, and forget about his problems. He was invited to quite a few during his year in college, and believe it or not, being able to play the guitar at a party makes you quite popular with the ladies. He was liked by most, but for those who didn't, they called him a kiss-ass, and Luke can't exactly say he wasn't.
Who doesn't like to please people? Who doesn't like having people like them? He certainly didn't.
Nick used to ask him how he was so charismatic and easy to like for people, and he found it hard to figure out why exactly anyone would have trouble not getting people to like them. He was just nice and talked about things people were interested in, it's not hard.
Or at least it used to be. Because the idea of having to leave his house and pretend to be interested in topics he wasn't, isn't the most ideal for him. Not to mention, Clementine had made plans for them to meet up for lunch, along with Ken, and the last thing he wanted was to be hungover or tipsy around two people he's known since they were in middle school.
Usually, it would be him dragging Nick to parties, it felt weird the other way around.
Jesus, he's thirty-one. He doesn't have time to party like he's ten years younger than he is. Not anymore.
But Nick's only a couple of weeks away from moving out of Athens back to their hometown, so he swallows his pride and accepts the invitation.
When they arrive, he loses himself in the crowd immediately, unable to find both Nick and Stephanie amongst the dozens of people within the house. He doesn't even know whose house it is, and none of the people there are the least bit recognizable. Nick got word of the party from Stephanie, who got word from her best friend, Shel (who Stephanie tried to matchmake him with once, they never got past the first date, long story), who apparently got word from someone who knew someone related to the party thrower.
He doesn't want to get drunk, he was seeing Clementine and Ken tomorrow, and he tries to abstain, he really does. But half an hour in, he's grabbing a beer from the cooler before he can convince himself otherwise. He defends his actions by telling himself at least he's not drinking something like vodka or whiskey.
"Beer? Really? That's a pussy drink."
It's not even that funny, but he still laughs, turning to the speaker.
There's a cup of what he can assume is rum in the woman's hand, her pixie cut of hair spikes up in places that seem intentionally styled that way, she even has a silver hair clip that pulls strands of brunette bangs out of her face. Her lips pucker as her dark irises eye him up and down, her expression vague and hard to read.
...
He knows this person.
He's seen her before.
He analyzes her face curiously, trying to solve the puzzle in his head.
"Wow, you're bad at this." She says.
"Wait...what?"
"God, at least try and call me cute or something."
His brows furrow, he's not really embarrassed, he's still trying to comprehend who the woman was and what she was even trying to say to him. "Uh...sorry."
"I guess I can give you credit for not staring at my boobs, that's a first."
With that comment, his eyes automatically respond, completely out of his control, falling down to her chest. The V-shaped neckline of her shirt goes down far into her chest, making her cleavage pronounced and very noticeable, he's even surprised his eyes hadn't gone there at first. He'd even give himself props if he could. Not that it matters now, cause the moment it's brought to his attention, he can't look away.
"Nevermind."
His eyes shoot back up, and he tries his hardest to keep his gaze with her eyes. "Fuck. Sorry."
"I don't mind, I wore this shirt for a reason." She smirks, taking a sip of her rum before continuing. "But what are you doing at my party drinking beer? I only bring that stuff here for the little bitches who don't know how to drink. And don't lie to me, Clementine told me you were a drinker."
Clementine?
"I hear whiskey's your favourite, or at least the drink she sees you with the most, there's whiskey right there."
Clementine?
...Wait.
"Are you...Jane?"
She nods slowly. "And you're Luke, right?"
He returns the nod.
"It would be awkward if you weren't."
He'd only ever seen Jane once, and it wasn't even in conversation, it was at the firework show with Clementine years ago. The memories of it flood his head, he loved that day, remembering how enthusiastic Clementine, Ken, and Sarah had been about him coming, how much they wanted him there, and how happy they were once he came. He's glad they made him, cause the fireworks seem to entrance him that day, they were beautiful, so much better than the ones they had in Tennesee.
The memory sours when he recalls Jane, or more accurately her treatment of Clementine. She hadn't been malicious or mean, really, the interaction between the two of them had brought a bright smile to Clementine's face that he hadn't seen from her in years. He hated the way Jane looked at her as if she were dirt on her shoe, with no interest or care in her eyes. He doesn't think it'd bother him as much if it weren't for the fact Clementine had no idea, just smiling at her ignorantly without a second thought.
God, he was so pissed that night.
It brings a fire in him as he grips onto his bottle of beer, trying to keep his expression from twisting into something not as friendly.
"I gotta go."
"Wait! Hey!"
She follows him as he brushes past the crowds of people, hoping she'll lose him amongst all the faces and leave him alone, but she doesn't. He makes it to the other side of the room before she grabs his shoulder, but he pulls away.
"You..." She's infuriated now, her lips shut tight as her eyes shoot daggers at him. "You can't just do that to a girl! That's a dick move, buddy! The fuck is your problem?"
"I can't just do what? I told you I was leaving." He says, trying to keep his voice as unnerved as possible.
"You can't leave a girl hanging. I don't exactly hit on anyone, show a little respect. Reject me like a man if you don't want me."
She's been hitting on him? Luke's been flirted with before, and he's flirted with others before, but he wouldn't exactly take being called a 'pussy' as flirting.
He feels a few eyes from the party linger on the two, but tries to think nothing on it, taking a deep breath and trying to remain calm. "It's not that."
"So you do want me?"
"I..." he sighs. "There's something that's...really been getting to me, about you. Can I ask?"
"Sure." She offers him a bottle of whiskey he didn't notice she was carrying. "If you drink some whiskey."
He barely hesitates, taking the bottle from her a popping open the cap, downing the drink.
He doesn't remember what happened after that. All he remembers is waking up seeing Jane, naked and rushing around his room in search of her own clothes, and glancing at his nightstand to see several missed calls from Clementine. Truth of the matter was, he drank a lot more than some whiskey.