"Leave me alone," said Clove. Cato was standing on the doorway; somehow, he'd managed to follow her.
"What is your problem?" demanded Cato. His voice was loud enough to hear even if you were on the rooftop, thought Clove.
"I said leave me alone."
"What is your problem?" repeated Cato.
"Why should you care?"
"Maybe I'm wondering why you made such a racket out of that Glimmer incident!"
Clove was silent. She had no response. Why such a racket, indeed.
"Maybe you should stop yelling at me," was what she finally said, wincing inwardly at how lame that sounded.
"I'm not yelling at you!" yelled Cato, and it was almost funny if the situation hadn't been so. "Excuse me," he said, and shoved Clove out of the way so he can enter the room. He slammed the door shut.
"There. Yell all you like. I know you want to."
But Clove remained still as a statue and silent as the marble it was made from. But inside her was a different story altogether. Inside, it was all turbulent seas; she was a ship and all the waves were conspiring to bring her down, down to the bottom of that deep blue nightmare. All she knew was she was hurt. And angry. Very. But she didn't know why.
Soon she went to sit at the edge of the bed. Cato was looking out the window.
"Clove," he said, his eyes still trained on the distant skyscrapers under the glow of the three o'clock sun.
"Go away."
"No. Not until you tell me what's wrong. I've never seen you like this."
"Get out of my room."
Cato went for the door, as if defeated, but he stopped at the last second and leaned against it instead. He was grinning. "I know."
"What?"
"You're jealous."
Was she? Possibly; but the way Cato said it made her even more infuriated. Besides, what was there to be jealous of?
"You were talking about me behind my back, jerk. You said I was stupid, and you said it to Glimmer, of all people. I could kill you here and now for that offense."
"But you won't, because you can't."
"I most certainly can."
"You can't. You can't even look me in the eye right now."
"Backstabbing muscle of a boy, how like a girl is that?"
"Oh, cut it, Clove. You're out of things to say. All I'm sure of is you're jealous."
This time, something played across Clove's memory. There was Cato, tossing Marvel like he weighed no more than a pound. Beating the guy up. Asking her if she was alright. And finally, apologizing to her like he meant it.
It took a long time, but she was able to get it out."You were jealous first."
"Still thinking about what happened earlier, huh?"
"I didn't say that."
"Don't tell me you fell for that one, Clove!" Cato said, and he was almost laughing. He was mocking her.
"Don't tell me that was another lie." Please. Clove had already forgiven him. Come to think of it, she never even hated him, no matter how he made her. She couldn't imagine his apology to be a lie. It would be tragic. It would be sick.
This time, Cato really laughed. "I can't believe it, man. Was I that good?"
"Why do you keep doing this?"
"Hey—"
"Do you think it's funny? Do you think lying to me is funny? Did it ever occur to you that I might have feelings too?"
"Did it ever occur to you that you might need to chill?"
"Shut up!"
Clove's voice must've sounded pretty angry, because Cato did shut up. After a while, he said, "Look, I'm really sorry."
"I would like to say I believe you, but I don't," said Clove crossly.
"If you're mad about Glimmer, there's nothing to be jealous of, really."
"I told you I'm not jealous."
"Fine, if you say so. So what are you so mad about?"
"You're the biggest liar I've ever seen in my miserable life."
"What?"
Cato sounded bad. He knew it. Clove was really mad at him. When Clove was mad, she didn't hesitate to say what she thought. When Clove was mad, she could dig holes in Cato's heart, and she would. There was no stopping her now. And it was his fault.
"Look, Clove," he started, trying to backpedal. "I lied to you, yes, but it was… it was—"
"It was honest lying?" Clove suggested, her face clear of emotion.
"I lied because I had to."
"Because you had to? And why did you have to, huh, Cato? Because it's your insatiable need to make me believe that you were my friend, that you were someone I could trust? Is that it?"
Cato was not smooth with words. Even if he wanted to pour everything out then and there, he couldn't find the correct vocabulary.
"You don't understand. And if you listen, I'll tell you."
"No, I'll tell you. One by one," Clove said calmly.
And tell him, she did. First, she recounted all their first years, their friendship, their memories, their little fights, their little laughs, everything they did back home. Clove remembered everything as much as Cato did.
"I was climbing a fence, I fell you, you caught me, I told you my secrets, I told you about Jax and my family and everything. Everything, Cato! You told me everything, too. And I believed you. I believed you and I was stupid for that."
She continued, and at one point she had to keep her mouth shut because she burst into tears. She was suddenly crying so hard, and finally, all she was saying was, "Everything is a lie. Everything."
Cato had the worst idea. He said, "Not everything is a lie. I could tell you, but it looks like you're not interested." He kept his voice down for Clove's sake.
To what Cato said, Clove shouted, despite the tears, and despite herself, "Then tell me! Tell me something that's not a lie!"
Clove felt terrible. She was crying so hard it was embarrassing, but she didn't care. Cato took his time. He seemed to be pondering an extremely difficult decision.
"Tell me something that's real," she said in an almost inaudible whisper.
It was then that Clove realized that she was done caring. She knew from then on that there was a limit to the number of damns a person can give in his or her lifetime. Clove had undoubtedly reached hers. She had two options: she could go crazy over the things she could never reverse, or she could stop caring and giving herself away too much. The choice was simple.
All she was waiting for now was Cato's answer. If he chose to tell the truth this time, it would be the last Clove would hear from him. It would be the best thing Clove would remember him for. If he chose to lie once more, no harm would be done. It was that easy. Clove actually felt better.
Cato, meanwhile, was miserable as ever. He wanted to say what he wanted to say. But he knew it would hurt. But he also knew that at least, he'd get hurt trying. It was the final straw for Clove, he felt. It was now or never. Gathering up his courage, he spoke up.
Clove was so lost in thought she didn't hear Cato immediately. When she did, he sounded very far away.
"Clove, I'm sorry," he said.
"Okay," she answered, non-committal.
"Listen to me."
"I'm listening."
What happened next hit her squarely on the chest, fast as lightning. She swore she could've endured anything at all other than what Cato said.
"I promise you, this isn't a lie."
"Whatever."
"Look at me."
Clove did. Cato's eyes were shining with tears.
After forever, it seemed, he said:
"I love you."
Hey guys! I had to update even if my request with the reviews wasn't really met. I HAD TO. Now, I'm requesting again for your reviews. Tell me if you want me continue. Tell me if you want me to stop. Pleaaaaaase? Thanks, and i-love-you for reading and putting up with my Clato feels. -dash:)
