As always, thanks a bunch to BlairAndChuckGG (I did get my inspiration for this chapter from GG, but it will def not be following the exact same plot!), ChocolateWriter (& there's even more to come :P), Clato-Forever-Fangirl (thank you!), Chloe.w (that's coming very soon, I swear!), Guest (sorry :P), Guest (that is actually a genius idea), ODAIRBEAR (yay!), clatoforeverx (tysm! And if I'm being honest, I can't wait till Clove and Marvel break up either, haha!), Clove1113 (Aw, thank you so much!), GlimmerAndFoxfaceLiveOnForever (I def want Glimmer to be accepted back into the group again, but she's going to have to work for it. And Foxface and Thresh are also on my agenda for this story, but it might be a few chapters before they get introduced), and Mockingjay24601 (read & find out :P) for their sweet reviews!
That day was the first day Clove had ever seen Cato cry, which said a lot, seeing as she had been friends with him since the diaper days.
It was strange, watching such a masculine guy as his face contorted from its usual expression of carelessness into denial, anger, and eventually grief. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks and onto his bare chest, and Clove simply sat there, painfully confused but knowing that he would talk when he was ready.
"He's dead," Cato finally said, choking on his words in a way that caused Clove's heart to shatter into a million tiny pieces for him.
She wrapped a tentative arm around his muscular shoulders, rubbing her thumb over a tiny scar on his bicep.
"My brother is dead," he repeated, more to himself than to her. "The brother that gave me my first beer and taught me how to throw a football. He's gone."
Something about the stereotypical "I'm so sorry" didn't seem right, so Clove just rested her head on his shoulder and glanced up into his glossy blue eyes.
"He would be so proud of you, Cato," she suddenly said, smiling a little. "A star quarterback and professional heartbreaker – just like him."
Cato chuckled. "He taught me everything I know."
"You'll get through this," Clove said to him.
"Get through what?"
Clove and Cato turned around simultaneously at the sudden sound of Annie's voice, and Clove's heart dropped. She had almost forgotten about Annie, the youngest of the three Astoria children.
Cato sighed. "William was in a car accident."
Annie's eyes widened. "He's okay though, right?" Silence. "Right?"
Cato shook his head and stared at his little sister blankly, putting on the emotionless façade that everyone was accustomed to. "He's dead."
Clove swallowed the lump in her throat as she watched all the blood drain from Annie's freckled face. There was a moment of silence as Annie took in the information, before she turned on her heel and took off running in the opposite direction. With a sigh, Finnick followed her, calling her name.
"Should I go after her?" Cato asked, though Clove could tell that he was in no state to be comforting someone else about this situation at the moment. For once, he was the one who needed to be comforted.
"Finn can handle her." There was a long pause. She could tell that he was holding back tears, and she pretended not to notice, knowing that he wouldn't want her sympathy. It went without saying that Cato was not much of a crier, and even less of a crier when in the presence of other people.
"I need to be alone for a while," Cato suddenly said.
"Are you sure?" Clove asked, concerned. If she let him go off on his own, there was no telling what kind of trouble he'd get himself into.
"Positive," he mumbled.
She sighed. "Don't do anything stupid."
"I'll make no promises," he joked, though Clove couldn't help but detect the slightest ounce of seriousness in his tone.
"I mean it," she warned, and he just shrugged in reply, heading back to his car.
As soon as she saw his dark blue Bentley pull out onto the road, she regretted letting him go. She knew that his idea of "being alone" didn't actually involve being alone. He would probably end up going to some dumb club in downtown LA, get entirely wasted trying to dull the pain, and then sleep with a couple of high-end prostitutes in the penthouse of some ultra-expensive hotel. What sickened her most though was that she knew all of this and still didn't bother trying to stop him.
It wasn't that trying to stop him had never crossed her mind either; she just assumed save herself the humiliation of being rejected, for she knew that he would always choose drugs and alcohol and prostitutes over her when he was going through a rough patch. That's just how things went with Cato.
"What the hell is going on?" Marvel's perplexed voice snapped Clove out of her thoughts. "First I see Finnick chasing after Annie, who was in hysterics, might I add, and then Cato storms right past me and speeds off in his car like a bat out of hell."
Clove sighed, starting to understand some of Cato's reasoning behind leaving. It wasn't exactly easy to break the news of somebody's death to other people. "Will is dead."
Marvel's eyes widened. "Will as in Cato's brother?" She nodded. "Is Cato okay?"
"Probably not," she replied. "But he insisted on being alone, and who was I to stop him?"
Marvel sighed loudly. "You know we should go after him, right? Go and tell him that he doesn't need to turn to drugs and alcohol when he has us?"
"We should," she started, "but you know damn good and well that he wouldn't listen."
"I know. I just wish there was something we could do to keep him from falling off the deep end again."
Clove shrugged, sort of fed up with all of Cato's shit. One second he's begging her to have some kind of sick, secret affair with him, and the next he's running off to get stoned and sleep with a couple of prostitutes. It disgusted her. He disgusted her, and yet she just couldn't seem to shake him.
The morning of William's funeral was everything that one would expect it to be – gloomy, dreadful, and drama-filled. Clove and Marvel stood hand in hand on the Astoria's doorstep, clad in their best black attire, because despite everyone's state of grief, it was unheard of to show up at a Beverly Hills funeral looking anything less than stellar.
They hadn't heard a thing from Cato since he left the beach house on Saturday, and if Clove was being honest, she was completely ok with that. Her life was a thousand times simpler without him in it, so if he wanted to disappear for a few days to get super wasted and whatever, so be it. Still, she wasn't going to sit back and let him go completely and utterly wild, so here she and Marvel were, on his doorstep, hoping that he was home and not off somewhere with a bunch of druggies.
She rang the doorbell once and was quickly greeted by Cato, a lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth. She scrunched up her nose in disgust. "You reek of weed and alcohol."
"Loosen up," Cato slurred, leaning on the doorframe for support. He glanced down at Clove and Marvel's intertwined fingers disdainfully, rolling his eyes. Lucky for Clove, Marvel didn't seem to think anything of it.
Marvel sighed loudly, folding his arms across his chest. "I can't believe this. You're supposed to be burying your brother in less than an hour, and you're fucking stoned. Not to mention you cut off all contact with us all for like five days. What the fuck is that about?"
"Chill the fuck out, Marvel," Cato said, blowing out a puff of cigarette smoke. Clove gagged.
"Where's the rest of your family?" Clove managed to ask, still choking on the overpowering smell of cigarettes and drugs.
"The rest of my family?" Cato raised his eyebrows, letting out an emotionless chuckle. "Well, my father was too busy on his business trip to be bothered with burying his first-born, my mother and Annie left for the funeral a few minutes ago, and William is dead. So there's that."
"Why didn't you go with your mom and Annie?" she questioned.
"I'm not really in the mood to toss a handful of dirt into my brother's grave, so I figured I'd just stay home and get wasted instead."
Clove sighed, trying to be patient with him. She knew that this was tough on him – William had been more of a father to Cato than his real dad – but that didn't give him an excuse to make an ass out of himself and miss his brother's funeral.
"You're going to the funeral," Clove insisted, leaving no room for discussion. "End of story."
Cato rolled his eyes, taking a swig of the bottle of scotch he was holding in his hand. "Whatever."
"Let's go," Marvel said impatiently, clearly pissed off at Cato's state of mind. Lucky for them, he was already in his funeral attire, almost like he'd planned to go but changed his mind at the last second. Clove hated to admit it, but even with all the alcohol in his system, Cato looked like the perfect golden boy that Beverly Hills knew and loved. It almost pissed her off. If only they knew the kind of hell he put her through, all day every day.
The trio climbed into Marvel's black Range Rover in silence. No one was particularly thrilled about spending the next few hours in a humid cemetery with a bunch of strangers, but they all went nevertheless.
As the three of them walked into the cemetery, Clove caught sight of an all-too familiar head of blonde hair. "What the fuck is she doing here?"
On cue, Glimmer Davenport turned around, beautiful as ever, and locked eyes with her former best friend. Clove simply glared at her in reply. "I swear to God," Clove mumbled, low enough so that only Cato and Marvel could hear her, "if she doesn't leave, we're going to be attending more than one funeral today."
Glimmer came walking over to them in a black dress that was far too short for a funeral, in Clove's opinion at least. "Look, before you yell at me for being here or kick me out or whatever, give me a minute to talk." They stared at her blankly in return, so she continued. "First of all, Clove, I'm sorry about the rumor. I really am. I never meant to hurt you, but I did, so I'm sorry about that. And if I'm being honest, I miss you like hell. I miss talking to you about everything, and I really hope you miss talking to me, too. You don't have to forgive me – shit, I'd be shocked if you did – I just wanted you to know."
"Is that it?" Clove asked, folding her arms across her chest. If Glimmer thought for even a second that Clove was going to forgive her that easily, she had another thing coming. At this point, Clove was beyond done with Glimmer and all of the drama that came with her. She needed a break.
"Almost," Glimmer continued, before diverting her attention to the fit blonde boy in front of her. "Cato, I know that a lot of crap has happened over this past month, but I still love you like a brother, and I want you to know that my door's always open if you need to talk to somebody about this whole situation."
Cato rolled his eyes. "Thanks. But I think it would be best if you left now."
Glimmer nodded in understanding. "Thanks for hearing me out." With that, she turned on her heel and left the cemetery, leaving a confused group of ex-friends in her wake.
"She seemed uncharacteristically kind today," Clove stated.
"I wouldn't think anything of it," Marvel said with a shrug. "She probably just got in a fight with Cashmere or some shit and decided to come crawling back to us. I'm sure she'll be back to her bitchy self in a couple of days."
"Probably," Clove agreed. "Come on, let's go tell Annie hello."
After the three of them made their way over to Annie and her mom, Clove wrapped Annie into a tight hug. "Thank you so much for getting him to come," Annie whispered, referring to Cato. "He's been having a really hard time with all of this."
"It's no big deal," replied Clove. "I just wish there was something I could do to help him."
"I know how you feel," Annie said.
"Are you two lovely ladies talking about me?" Cato interrupted them, wrapping one arm around Annie and the other around Clove.
"You know you reek of weed and scotch, right?" Annie retorted. "I could smell you from a mile away."
Cato smiled at her sarcastically, casually flipping her the bird when nobody was looking. She rolled her eyes.
"What's this?" Johanna's sarcastic tone of voice came from behind them. "Cato Astoria, back from the dead?"
Cato rolled his eyes. "Fuck you, Mason."
Johanna laughed, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Glad to have you back, buddy."
"Can't say I missed you," Cato responded with a smirk.
Johanna punched his arm, glaring at him. "This is what I get for trying to be nice."
Katniss, Peeta, and Finnick came walking up to them, amused looks on their faces. "No fighting," Katniss scolded. "You're at a funeral, for heck's sake."
Just then, the preacher started talking. "Family and friends, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of William Astoria, beloved son, brother, coworker, and friend…"
The whole crew quieted down, averting their attention to the preacher, who was now quoting scripture. They all stood together, holding hands, with Cato, Annie, and their mother in the middle. Sure, they were a bit dysfunctional at times, but at the end of the day, they were there for each other when it really mattered. They were much more than classmates or best friends – they were a family.
When the funeral was over and Will was officially six feet under, the crew decided to head back to Cato's for some comfort food, courtesy of the Mellarks. The funeral had been beyond unpleasant, full of tears, tears, and more tears, and everybody agreed that they needed to spend some time together, watching movies and stuffing their faces with whatever desserts Peeta felt like whipping up.
They all eventually settled down in the living room, with Finnick, Annie, Peeta, Kat, and Marvel squeezed onto one couch, Cato alone in the recliner, and Jo and Clove sprawled out on the floor.
"What do you guys wanna watch?" Clove asked, scanning over the hundreds of DVDs arranged in alphabetical order in the glass cabinet next to her.
"Great Gatsby?" Katniss suggested.
"Nah," Finnick said, shaking his head. "Something funny."
"The Hangover, maybe," Johanna offered.
Annie shook her head. "No, because then we'll have to watch all three, and that's too much of a commitment for me."
"Fine," Jo said. "What about We're the Millers?"
"YES!" Marvel hooted. "I fucking love that movie."
"Alright," Clove nodded, grabbing the DVD out of the cabinet and slipping it into the DVD player.
"Peeta," Katniss said sweetly, giving him puppy dog eyes, "will you please go pop some popcorn and bake some cookies?"
He chuckled. "You know I can't pop popcorn any better than any of you guys can, right?"
"Yes," Johanna laughed. "But we're all lazy, and since you'll already be in the kitchen, I'm sure it won't hurt you to put a few bags of popcorn in the microwave for us."
Peeta just rolled his blue eyes in return, standing up from the couch and heading into the kitchen reluctantly.
Clove caught sight of an empty recliner, and she furrowed her brows. Who had been sitting…of course, Cato. "You guys, where'd Cato go?"
"Said something about going to get a coke from the fridge in the garage," Finnick replied.
Clove nodded, and before she knew what she was doing, she found herself standing at the glass door of the garage. Aside from the two Ferraris parked inside, it was a typical American garage – cluttered shelves, an old white fridge, and an ugly orange beanbag chair that was there solely for sentimental reasons. Cato was on his knees, punching the poor beanbag chair repeatedly, tears streaming down his face as he yelled inaudible things at the ceiling. Clove briefly considered leaving him to grieve but decided against it, seeing as he might get hold of another bottle of scotch if she wasn't there to stop him. He had finally sobered up from earlier, and she wasn't really in the mood to deal with drunk Cato again.
"Hey," she said gently, stepping inside. He kept punching the giant beanbag chair. "Hey," she repeated, louder and more assertive this time.
He looked up, puffy red eyes and all. "What?"
"That beanbag chair sure must have pissed you off," she said sarcastically.
He rolled his eyes. "Can you please just pretend like you didn't see that? I was having a moment of weakness. It happens a lot lately, with the whole Will thing and everything."
"Cato, no." She sighed. "I'm sick of pretending."
"No shit," he huffed.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that it's so obvious how uninterested you are in Marvel that it hurts."
"What does that have to do with anything? I just walked in on you physically assaulting a beanbag and you're turning this around on me."
"Just leave me alone, Clove," he said, grabbing a beer out of the fridge.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine."
She turned and walked out of the garage, purposely leaving the door open just to annoy him. She was so done trying to help him. All she ever got in return was rudeness. How dare he say she was uninterested in Marvel? Not that it wasn't sort of true, but still.
She grabbed a blanket off the arm of the couch and plopped down next to Johanna again. The movie was already on, the lights dimmed. "Everything okay?" Johanna whispered.
Clove nodded. "Everything's fine."
"Lock the door," Clove ordered as she and Marvel stumbled into an old janitor's closet during their free period on Friday afternoon. She had tried everything to let off steam for the past few days – running, reading, sleeping, eating – but nothing had worked. She was still tense and uptight and pissed as hell, so she was turning to the one thing she knew without a doubt would relax her: an intense make out session.
Maybe it was wrong, seeing as she still hadn't confessed to Marvel about hooking up with Cato, but she really didn't care. She was far past caring. She needed to make out with somebody, and she sure as hell wasn't about to ask Cato.
Marvel crashed his lips onto hers, desperately and hungrily, and she smiled, knowing that he needed this just as much as she did. He snaked his hands around her waist and onto her rear, lifting her up so that she could wrap her legs around him.
"Clove…?" he mumbled, kissing her neck.
"Mmhmm?" she replied.
"I love you," he said breathlessly.
She stopped dead in her tracks for a split second. This was not some kind of confess-my-eternal-love-for-you make out session. No, this was a selfish, lustful make out session between two very stressed and uneasy people.
She pressed her lips to his again, slipping her tongue into his mouth with hopes that he would drop the whole love thing. "Clove," he repeated, breaking away from her.
She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "What?"
"Aren't you going to say it back?"
She sighed, tempted to just say it so that they could get on with their kissing. But then she made the mistake of looking right into his caring green eyes, and her heart broke for him.
"I can't," she whispered.
So much for letting off steam.
"What? Why?"
She exhaled loudly, running her fingers through her knotty hair. "Look, Marvel, there's something I need to tell you."
"You cheated on me, didn't you?" he asked, the smallest sliver of hope that he was wrong detectable in his voice. They'd had this conversation several times together, so it didn't surprise Clove that he had an idea what she was going to say.
She nodded. "I'm so sorry. I love you to death, but just…not like that."
He was quiet for a long time, clenching and unclenching his fists in anger. "Who was it?"
She didn't reply.
He shook his head in disbelief. "Are you really not going to tell me?"
The shrill sound of the bell that marked the end of free period rang out loudly. "Sorry," she said, "I have to get to Physics."
With that, she slipped out of the janitor's closet and headed in the direction of her next class, letting out a shaky breath. Saved by the bell.
AN:
Hellooo! I am beyond sorry that it took so long for me to update. I thought I knew where I wanted to go with this chapter, but when I sat down with my laptop and tried to start writing, I realized I didn't.
Also, this story will be a year old in exactly a week! I'm so proud of how far it's come in just a year, and I'm so grateful for all of you who have followed, favorited, read, and reviewed :)
What would you guys like to see happen next chapter? I get some of my best inspiration from the reviews you leave, so please review & let me know!
~xoxo~