AN: Sorry for the belated chapter! I now have a little bit of a better vision as to where this is going and to be frank, I deleted the "interlude" bc I hated it and that's not really where I want the story to go. I will be taking down my last update soon. Again, sincere apologies! Thank you for all the love and support.
EDIT: ...I thought his name was Tyler. It was Trevor. I fixed it.
Warning: language, brief violence, mentions and brief drug/alcohol usage
Chapter Eight—Euphoria
Clara had taken out half her closet and strewn it across her bed. Her room was magical looking. She had strung golden fairy lights around her entire room as fake vines created a curtain around her window. She had tiny polaroids of various things taped around her room. Her smooth blonde hair was in a sloppy half bun on top of her head as her straightening iron was heating up on her dresser, which she periodically made trips to, flattening out the last of her long blonde hair. Her roots were starting to come in. She picked up a white cocktail dress with Art Deco style triangles of golden sequins and a white twisted sash across the middle.
"What do you think?" She asked, holding it up against her body.
"Um," I tilted my head. There wasn't really any way for me to be unbiased about it, but I knew she would look beautiful in anything. "Yeah, I think you'd look great."
Clara smiled. I love her dimples. "Thanks, it's new... and I'm not really a big fan of white. I dunno." She tossed in onto the bed next to me. She did some digging and found a blue velvet dress. "I think this one might fit you." She remarked, holding it up against my body. I felt a shiver go through me as she touched me. It was such a light touch yet it was such a sweet gesture. My heart was already fluttering in my chest and butterflies were bouncing around my stomach.
"I don't know." I sighed. She was so petite that I could see the bones in her wrists and hips and I was so muscular I looked like a football player. "I think I'm too big for your clothes."
"Literal nonsense. That's ridiculous!" She exclaimed, tossing it aside. "Here, you can think about it. We'll find something for you to wear. Can I do your makeup?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure. Go for it." I nodded. There was a knot in my throat and I couldn't quite pinpoint why.
Clara picked up her desk chair, dragging it over in front of me. "Obviously we don't have the same foundation shade, but you don't have, like, any pimples so I'm not even worried about it..." She shook her head. "What I'm, what color eyeshadow do you want?"
"Uh, what—what do you think?" I asked. "Sorry, it's been forever since I've put on makeup, I don't even know what would look good on me."
"Hmm..." Clara pursed her lips. "Can I even out your eyebrows first?"
"Oh, yeah, sure." I sat with my eyes closed as she drew lines on my eyebrows and carefully plucked away with a pair of tweezers. They'd be fixed by tomorrow if she messed them up too bad, knowing how my body works, but I didn't care. I could feel my heart skipping a beat just from the closeness of her body and the way her hands rested against my face. Worse, I felt an aching sensation in my stomach and groin with her so close to me that I couldn't shake off despite my best efforts. She smelled clean, like handmade soap and tea with honey and rain and her breath was warm on my face. It was oddly comforting. "I hope they're not awful, I honestly don't really pay attention to my eyebrows."
Clara laughed softly. "Don't even worry about it. You've got..." she considered what she was saying. "...nice bone structure."
"I have nice bone structure." I repeated. I stifled a laughed.
"Yeah, like nice, erm, forehead—you're forehead is like—" She stammered for a second before laughing at her own ridiculousness, her eyes lighting up like lightning. "Your brow bone. Yeah, that's what it's called. You have a very nice brow bone. It's like... so the end of your eyebrow, it arches really nicely. For example, like, my eyebrows are really flat and round but you have a really nice natural curvature."
"Oh." I said, tightening my lips. My eyes opened to look at her. "Well, I think you have really nice eyebrows."
"Oh shut up." Clara laughed breathily. She tossed her hair out of the way.
"Here—is your hair, er—" My hands moved before my mouth could and I had already grabbed a handful of her hair like it was natural. Clara paused to see what I was doing but she didn't flinch. I pulled the hair tie off my wrist and pulled her hair out of her face. I instantly regretted it and realized I had overstepped my boundaries.
"Oh. Thanks." She smiled and didn't think twice. She wasn't... bothered by me touching her?
My phone started vibrating in my lap. I jumped with surprise and Clara's eyes flickered with curiosity. I met her eyes, picking up my phone. Seth :D the name read. I mostly expected it to be a telemarketer, lifting the phone to my ear. "Hello?" I said carefully. Somehow as soon as I heard my ringtone, I knew something felt wrong. "Seth?"
"Um, hi, Lee." A sheepish voice replied. It took me a second to realize it wasn't my brother; it was Brady. Nerdy little Brady. I hadn't spent much time around him, but I could vividly see his face, his big brown eyes, his gangly hair
"What's wrong? Did something happen? Where's Seth?" I asked in a panicked voice, jumping to my feet.
"Oh, I just stole his phone." He reassured. I relaxed a bit. "I need to talk to you. Privately."
"We can talk right now." I said. Clara was still watching me, turning and fiddling with the mascara tube to pretend that she wasn't actually paying attention me. "What's wrong, Brady?" I asked politely. This poor kid sounded like his hand was shaking on the other end of the phone.
"No, seriously, like... it's really important and I don't know what to do—and—and I'm really freaking out, and—"
"Brady, you need to listen to me, take a deep breath... tell me what happened. Did someone get hurt?" I asked. I was now pacing in front of the balcony.
"No, no! Everyone's fine, um—"
"Is it Emily? Did she go into labor?" I continued to pry, rubbing my hand over my face for half a second before flinching and remembering that I was wearing makeup.
"I don't think so?" His voice raised multiple pitches. "It's—it's me, something's wrong with me, Leah."
"What's going on?" I spun around on the balls of my feet, looking over at Clara. "Are you hurt? Did you get hurt?"
"No, I... Leah, the others are going to catch onto soon and I'm terrified, I don't want them to find out, I don't, and—" His voice cut out.
"Brady, I swear to god, are you in the middle of the woods somewhere? Where are you? Are you safe?" I was definitely getting more annoyed with him now.
"I really fucked up." Brady said shakily.
I took a deep breath to try and steady my nerves. "Who are you with? Where is Seth? Is Seth safe? Is Sam with you? What's happening?"
"They're—the others are out, they shifted, but I can't shift because I can't let them find out and—"
"Find our what?" I asked. Static again. "Brady?"
"I..." Brady coughed. It sounded like he was on the verge of or was crying.
I tried to stifle my sigh and soften my voice. "Brady, what's wrong? Are you okay? Just talk through this with me."
"I got my class changed at school... because I was regular biology and it was too easy and the teacher suggested putting me in honors biology... and... and..."
"And?" I pried carefully.
"...and when I got there, there was... there was this... my new lab partner..." he was getting increasingly more choked up.
"Okay..." I nodded. There was a really long pause.
"I..." he let out a sob. "I imprinted on my lab partner!"
I took another deep breath. "Okay, Brady, can you try box breathing? You breathe for four and hold for four and exhale for four, okay?" I could hear his wheezing, but slowly he was beginning to calm down. "Are you better?"
"Yeah? No?" He replied. He was taking deep, wary breaths. "God, Leah, I'm scared."
I pressed the phone to my chest. "Hey, Clara, I'm gonna step outside real quick, okay?" Clara nodded and I walked out onto the balcony. "Brady... Brady... stay with me bud. What are you scared of?" I asked, shutting the door behind me.
"I-I mean I can't—I can't let the others find out." He said quietly.
"Why... not?"
There was complete silence on the other end. At first, I was confused. Why would he need to make such a big deal out of this? Why did he need to call me? Then in an instant, my stomach dropped to my toes. Goddamnit Leah, you know why.
"Oh." I said softly. "I'm so sorry, kid."
"Yeah." He took a shaky breath into the microphone.
"Did you... did you know... before?" I asked.
"Um, did you?" He countered.
I shook my head even though he couldn't see me. "No. It was... it was like getting hit by a bus. I never saw this coming. Did you?"
"I... I think I was lucky enough to sort of... know..." Brady was calming down and I could still hear him doing the breathing exercises. "I... I thought... I didn't know what was normal, I didn't know if I was normal, if what I was feeling was normal, I didn't know... Am I not normal anymore?"
"Stop—" I held the phone to my chest again. I knew what I had to say but I didn't believe an ounce of it. "Brady, listen to me. There isn't... there is no normal, okay? You're normal no matter what you feel." I just about gagged. Damn, Leah, you could be an excellent televangelist yet...
"Yeah, but like... this isn't normal. You can't pretend that it is. It's..." he huffed. "Why did this even happen in the first place?! Why did—"
"I know, Brady."
"And—and I don't understand how this is even supposed to help me—"
"I know, Brady."
"And—and I wish I had never imprinted at all! I'd rather die by myself than—"
"I know, Brady." I collapsed into a chair outside, my head in my hands.
"And why me?! Why did this have to happen to me?! I didn't even do anything! I-I—" Brady slowly let out the last of his anguish. "I don't understand."
"I don't either." I replied.
"How do you... how do you do it?" His small voice asked.
I glanced over my shoulder into the apartment. Clara was still sitting in the desk chair and she was fiddling with her fingernails. Strands of her long hair fell like a curtain around her face. She looked so tiny, vulnerable, and uncertain. She was just a normal human with human ideals and human motivations, and when I look at her, I can't picture us getting married or getting a house together or even her tolerating the idea of me outside of this small bubble that we live within. I couldn't see her being in love with me. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to be in love with her. And worst of all, I knew it would inevitably be the death of me. "I..." My throat felt like it was closing. "I guess I just... try to look at it from a different perspective that... it's not all about love or sex and that... that you're different but not wrong and that... that..." I was staring at Clara. She didn't seem to even notice but I couldn't stop. My insides were churning horribly with acid and the monster that lived beneath my skin was sending spiders over my arms.
Do I... am I in love with her?
Brady said something but I couldn't be bothered to listen.
"Hey, Brady, are you okay?" I struggled.
"Huh? What?" Brady said.
"Are you okay? Can we talk more later?" I asked.
"Yeah—I mean, I guess." Brady said disgruntled.
"Here, take my number and you can text me, okay? We can talk more in private." I explained.
"Yeah... um... sounds... good." Brady replied. "See you... later, I guess."
I hung up the phone, still staring through the glass. When I stood up, Clara's eyes looked up at me. "Hey, are you good?"
"Yeah it was... it was my brother's friend, he needed to talk about something." I shook my head. "It's fine, I took care of it."
"Are you okay?" She asked nervously.
I sat back down on the bed and nodded. "Yeah, I'm great." Her liquid green eyes leaned back into my face and she dusted over my face with a thick brush. She squinted curiously at me. My mouth fell open again. "Erm—"
"What's up?" She asked softly, pulling her brush back. Her lips were ever so slightly parted. Pink and soft... I could just reach up and touch her face...
"Nothing." I said. My body was locked up, every muscle, every ounce of my being keeping me away from her. "Thanks again... this was all really sweet of you by the way."
She tilted her head and swallowed. "You have really nice skin." Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Thanks." I nodded. My eyes momentarily glanced down, following her brush into the pan, and I noticed she had tiny green bruises on her fingers. They were healing, but it looked like she had tried to punch something lately. I didn't draw attention to it.
"You're welcome." Her eyelashes fluttered. She was so utterly... perfect. She was so precious, and so precious to me, and I couldn't escape the idea that my mere existence did nothing but doom her. And for what? I keep circling back to the same place and the same question of: if this happened for a reason, what's the reason? Why did everything fit together to lead me to this moment? Why did the stars find their place in such a perfect order that I was here with her? Or was it my unconscious selfishness that lead us here?
I couldn't let myself slip up again. I couldn't let myself touch her because if I did, I knew I would be disrespecting a boundary that she didn't even know was there. She trusted me like a friend and if I were to ever push too far, to use her trust against her, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for it. That made everything so much more surreal. I was sitting here and felt like I would implode if she left me and she could sit perfectly still, her heart still pounding normally, her palms not even sweaty... she saw me as her friend. And don't get me wrong, I was absolutely fine with that. I was fine being friends. Frankly, I'd rather she look me in the eye and just tell me straight up that we're friends because at least then maybe my biology could play by the rules and the chemicals in my brain could step off. But it was weird to look at her and know that she had no idea what had happened. Was that even fair?
"What's that?" I asked softly, pointing to whatever was in her hands. It was something golden and sparkly.
"It's highlighter. It's too dark for me but I think it'd look good on you." She replied. Clara paused as she swiped the brush across my face, staring down at the floor. "God, you're like a radiator."
I pulled back a bit. "Is that bad?"
"No, you're just so warm." Her voice was so soft and almost trancelike. "It's nice. It's just so cold here. I don't want to say it, but I'm starting to hate Forks."
"You're not from here?"
"I moved here when I was ten, my grandparents moved up here from California to retire and they eventually got so sick..." She shook her head. "They both passed away a few years ago, but we stayed because I was in high school, and now I'm in college... my parents want to move when I move away but honestly I don't want them to be too close, you know?"
"Yeah, I feel that."
"I miss living half an hour from the beach." Clara remarked. "Well, I guess I still am but it feels like it's always too cold to swim." She seemed to be reminiscing of something from a very long time ago. "I'd go to the beach so much my summer tan never really went away and all my shoes had sand in them. Now I just have to use the stuff from the bottle and there's mud everywhere."
"I could take you up to La Push before it gets too cool." I suggested. "I'm not big on surfing but I know tons of people like to go before it shows."
She shivered at the thought and chuckled. "Maybe."
I settled on recycling Karen's dress. I felt more comfortable in black. It smoothed everything out and made my body look somewhat manageable as look at I didn't fixate too long in front of mirrors. But I couldn't ignore to barely visible bloodstain on the side from that guy's bloody nose. Clara had made my face golden and shiny and she glued long fake eyelashes on my eyes that tickled when I opened them. For a second, it hit me again and my heart was racing. The last party I had gone to had ended so horribly... I might run into Karen again... or the guy that was fucking with me again...
Clara had picked out a different dress for herself. It was a blue to green gradient of sequins, only mid-thigh and low cut with big puffy long sleeves. She was in the living room putting on lipstick. I was floored when I saw her from behind. She caught my eye and smiled.
"Hey, c'mere for a sec?" She said. I sheepishly obeyed and she steadily swiped the liquid lipstick wand over my lips. "Now do this—" She rubbed her lips together and I mimicked. Clara smiled. "You look great by the way."
"Thanks, so do you." I said breathlessly.
Clara turned back to the mirror. "So, my boyfriend said he'd meet us there, if that's cool. He's got the like," she lowered her voice. "the stuff, you feel me? I dunno if you want to drive or you want me to drive—"
"We can take my truck if you want, I honestly don't mind." I suggested warily.
"Are you sure? Like I said, I don't want you to feel like I'm just dragging you around as my driver." She asked.
"Oh, I mean, I don't mind." I shrugged. It probably wasn't my place but it did bother me a bit at the idea of "stuff". I was not exactly mentally prepared to find out that my roommate and imprintee is a coke addict, but that's probably just my nerves about this stupid party. Not that I think my metabolism is going to suddenly slow down on the drive over there, but I'm curious if maybe I use some kind of placebo effect/Pavlov theory myself into drinking that is works similar to an SSRI. I will be looking into that.
We didn't talk much on the drive to the party. Clara put on her music and she stared out the window throughout the ride. I could see her foot tapping to the music. I couldn't help but think as I parked my car: where is Charlie Swan throughout all of this? Do the police just... not notice to raging college parties? The underage drinking? We don't have many accidents so I guess it's just not a concern? I guess when you can just walk home drunk they don't really care about kids sneaking their parents' liquor out of the cabinet, but it raises a question about the noise concern. Someone had set up strobing neon lights. I think this was definitely the Forks equivalent of a frat house by the smell. Clara took me by the hand and lead me through the living room and into the kitchen. I jumped when a hand touched my shoulder.
"Lee!" A voice shouted. "Is that my dress?!"
"Hi, Karen!" I remarked. "We'll talk later, okay?" I shouted over the music. She had razored the ends of her hair and fluffed it up twice its original size. She mumbled something as she went back to struggling to get a beer bottle open. Clara lead outside where the breeze washed over me. It wasn't hot or sticky and it smelled like a campfire. My ears were still ringing from the bass that flooded out onto the porch. Clara stumbled a bit in her heels as she came down the wooden steps. There was a small group of people gathered around a small fire pit and quietly talking in the back of the yard, between the hot tub and the fence. Clara pried off her shoes to get a better footing.
"What's up, my peeps?" Clara said, clearly trying to be funny. There were about five other people who all laughed and cheered upon her arrival. She leaned down and pecked one girl on the cheek.
"Thought you weren't gonna show!" One guy exclaimed, holding up his drink to her.
"I always show." Clara replied. The girl handed her a cigarette and she leaned down, taking a hit, and smiling at the girl. "But yeah, this is Leah, she's my new roommate."
"Hi." I nervously waved, my eyes scanning over the faces. I hadn't even searched long enough when one of the lawn chairs went flying back onto the ground and there was a man next to me. He was short, greasy, and pimply with a stupid goatee.
"You?!" He spat at me.
"Me?!" I took a big step back. I felt the side of the campfire ring burn into my leg and I yelped, flailing to steady myself.
"Leah, are you okay?" Clara rushed to my side, looking at my leg.
"It's fine, I'm fine—" I said reassuringly. Dude's nose was crooked (his acne looked worse too but that's not my problem). "Hey, man, listen, this was a mistake, I'm sorry, I was going through some really bad anger problems and—" He grabbed me by the front of my dress. I reinforced a stern voice. "Let go. Let me go. Right now."
"No, you know what..." He pulled my face down to his and spat at me. I gagged. I balled up my fist and had drawn back when Clara jumped forward into the mix.
"Trevor, stop it." She said, her hand firmly put on my chest, pushing me back away from him. She whipped her head around to me. "Are you okay? What happened to your leg? Are you good?"
"I'm fine." I said. The burn was pretty bad but I had to tone it down because it was already neatly healed to a rough blister.
"You're seriously hanging out with this bitch?" "Trevor" growled are her.
"'Bitch'?" Clara replied, astounded. "This is Leah, she's, like, the sweetest person—"
"I'm really not." I said warily. Everyone was looking at me. "I... I'm really sorry, but you were—"
"She punched me in the face!" Trevor shouted. "She broke my fucking nose! Oh, I'm sorry, do you go by she?"
"Jesus, are you being serious right now? It was a mistake and we're trying to fix this while you talk shit and call her names?" Clara remarked. "You know, sometimes you make me think you deserve to be punched in the face."
My fists didn't unclench. "You did call me a tranny and hit me first, but I'm really sorry, I'm sure you're going to have really bad allergies this winter, huh?"
"Oh really?"
"Fucking stop!" Clara interjected. "Both of you! I don't care who started it, I don't care who did it, but this was a misunderstanding, right?"
"Well the freak was the one that fucking started this and I'm not going to be the one to stand here and take shit from a tranny." Trevor growled. He jumped at me again and Clara had to block him from me. Her wobbling stance made me uneasy.
"Clara, I don't need you to protect me." I told her.
"Don't worry." She said to me. "Trevor, step down. Leah's not going to hurt you. It was a big misunderstanding and we're going to move forward from this and be cool about it, but if you don't stop, I'm going to make you."
"I'm okay—" I reassured her.
She let both of us go and we were all still, the others staring at us awkwardly. "We're cool now, right?" Trevor and I both slowly nodded. "Cool. So who brought the weed?"
The rest of the night was weird and awkward. The sun went down and I watched as the people around me slowly became more and more intoxicated with the weed and beer and some pills that I wasn't offered or told the contents of. Clara was snuggled up with Trevor and I felt... out of place. The others were talking and laughing like nothing had happened and Clara seemed like she had forgotten everything. I saw her kissing him and god... everything hurt. No one wanted to talk to me. It was like every word I tried to say was wrong. At one point I got up to go look for Karen, but I found her making out with someone before disappearing to the upstairs of the house. I hated myself.
I stayed in the kitchen for a while until Clara came and found me again.
"Hey, cutie," she said playfully. She was looking through the fridge but she wasn't pulling anything out. "You're sad, what's going on?"
"It's fine, I'm good, honestly—"
"No you're not." Clara shut the fridge and leaned over the counter beside me. "Listen, Trevor is an ass, but honestly, it's... I don't know what's wrong with him. I'm not trying to defend him, but we can talk and he won't—"
"It's okay." I replied. I put up a smile.
She frowned and wrapped her arms around my arm, pressing a friendly kiss on my shoulder. "You're my friend now and I care about what you think, okay?"
"You're my friend too." I said softly.
"Hey, you wanna go?" She offered. "We could just go, we don't have to tell the others. You wanna do that?" I nodded kind of pathetically.
Clara intertwined our fingers and we ran out of the front of the house and into my truck. She was laughing, her face beaming with glitter and sweat. She immediately started blaring the radio. "I love this song!" She shouted, singing off key as we drove back to the apartment. I was defiantly speeding but we were laughing and everything felt... perfect again.
For a second, I caught a glimpse of my face in the rear view mirror. I didn't recognize my face. I felt... I felt pretty. And when I looked at Clara and I looked at the way she looked at me... I felt something that I hadn't felt in a long time. Freedom? Youth? Worth?
I never wanted to stop driving.
