Chapter 3:
"If you truly loved someone you won't become their enemy. You will become their guardian angel." (Shannan L. Alder)
Clarissa stuffed the notebooks into her bag and slung it over her shoulder lazily. She rushed towards her slightly bewildered mother and placed a kiss on her cheek. "I'll see you for dinner!" She shouted, in the process of turning the front door knob.
Jocelyn raised her eyebrows, a few bills in her hand. "Are you heading to Simon after school?" Clarissa resisted the urge to roll her green eyes. It's like my only friend is Si. She sighed. He is my only friend. She nodded her head in response even though Clarissa wasn't heading to her manga loving friend. Her mother waved before her daughter leaped out of the apartment room and down the stairwell.
She swatted at her crimson waves in attempt for it to look somewhat manageable. The streets of New York seemed to be decorated with a blanket of frosting. No, it wasn't snowing but ice covered the sidewalks and curbs and she sucked in the cold air. Clarissa's feet pounded against the tarmac and she bolted deliberately into the same alleyway she had visited twice before.
She skidded to a halt when she caught a glimpse of his figure, a glass bottle gripped in his fingers. For perhaps a split second, the man glanced up and something flickered in his fair orbs. Her book bag was leaning away from her back and her red curls fell onto her cheeks freely. She was certain she appeared a mess but he simply leaned against the brick wall, something else in his right hand.
Clarissa eyed the amber liquid. It was beer. His eyes were glazed but he stood steadily. His golden crown of hair was thrown to the left side and his shoulders were slumped. Despite his appearance, she grabbed the small plastic bag from her pack and stretched her arm out. "I bought you this." It looked sort of deformed, the bagel but his eyes snapped on hers.
"Why the hell are you here?" He demanded. The girl took a step back. He trudged towards her and she lowered her breakfast offering in disappointment. He was drunk too which was another story. His fist was clenched around the unknown object.
Clarissa knew he was angry but the rage wasn't directed in her direction. She needed to get to class. She only dropped by because...well she didn't even figure why. It was sort of odd, the way Clarissa was drawn to him. Like some sort of fly. His breath smelled like alcohol and he raised the glass bottle above her head. Clarissa's eyes shut and her heart pounded dangerously in her chest.
She heard the glass break, shattered into many broken fragments. Her eyelids opened and she snuck a glance at him. He was sitting down now, legs outstretched. He didn't mind her. Her breathing was rapid and Clarissa threw the bagel onto his lap. After that, she ran to school, her burnt sunset colored hair leaving with her but she didn't see the eyes that followed too.
[XXX]
"But you just ate. That's not fair! Just hand it to me Fray." Simon protested reaching for the carton of cookies. She smacked his hand away and smiled hastily.
"Sorry, Si. Not this time. I have to leave." Clarissa darted away from him and he pushed up his glasses in confusion. Before he could ask where she was heading, his best friend disappeared. He sighed, slightly interested.
Clary adjusted the books in her arms and reached the small space. She paused, eyeing her surroundings in search of him. When she finally spotted the young man, he was slumbering. The flickering street light illuminated his amber locks. The only movement was his chesting falling and rising. It was difficult trying to imagine that this boy was ruthless. That the boy had said he wanted to perish. She didn't even know him, nor understand him.
Clarissa settled on the cold cement and shivered at the thought of sleeping in this weather. She leaned quietly to study him in curiousity. She made sure her hair didn't get in his way. His eyelashes were long and fluttered every so often. He had lost the traces of boyhood. His head was perched against his shoulder slightly and she held in her breath before placing her fingers onto his hair. She pushed his tendrils back a bit. His cheeks were colored a bright pink color and his hair looked like sunshine. Bright and gold.
She shook her head and placed her arms down in retreat. Clarissa dug into her bag and pulled out the lunch she was saving for him. Her back faced him as she drew a bologna sandwich from the ziploc bag. It was for her to eat but she eventually saved it for him. He looked like he needed it.
When she turned to leave the meal, Clarissa found his eyes watching her. Her lips parted in surprise and she instantly thought he would get angry, maybe even push her away. Instead he yanked a small box out of his back pocket. Cigarettes. Figures. After a moment or two, he took a long drag and blew the smoke away. He didn't stare at her. "Why are you here?"
She studied him with a sort of gentleness that caused him to jerk away. He wasn't used to those looks. Looks that actually cared. Her frizzy hair was blown to the right side and she wore no make up at all. In fact, she appeared better that way. Clarissa sighed just loud enough for him to hear. "What's your name?" She asked, not responding to his question. He looked like he didn't want to answer. His eyebrows rose and he lowered his cigarette.
"Does it matter?" At his answer, she grinned and he noticed her shoulders finally relax. She tilted her head to the left and the smile on her face was so evident, a lot of people would feel the same way. He grunted and waited taking a puff of the cigarette. His lips pursed and he stared numbly at the small space he was currently lounging in.
"I can play the question game all day." She replied, scooting a few inches closer to him. He took a brief look at her and turned away, slightly bewildered by her actions. When he didn't say anything, she handed him the sandwich and bottle of water. He didn't take it.
"Come on. Take it. I make a pretty mean sandwich." She continued oblivious to his shut off behavior. Finally, his eyes fixed on hers. Her orbs were so wide. So green. So warm. It reminded him of a light painting. He squinted at her through hardened and cruel golden eyes that age seemed to steal from.
"Do you not fucking get it through your damn head? Leave me alone." She winced and he noticed but didn't bother doing anything. His words stung, he could tell that for sure. That's what they were supposed to do. Hurt. Wound. Leave a scar.
She rose to her feet silently and frowned before checking the time. It was six. Clarissa left the food beside him in case he changed his mind. She raised her satchel and wrapped it around her shoulder. "I'll see you later, I guess." She mumbled, giving him a dejected wave.
As she sauntered out of the lane pondering about him, Clarissa heard someone call. "Ay, girl! I'm allergic to bologna!" Her brow arched but she ended up shouting back nonetheless.
"I made jelly too!" At that mere second, she shifted while walking and saw him crush the cigarette with his boots and bite into the bread she had offered him.
[Please review for the next chapter! Thanks!]
