I'd like to apologize in advance for the poor ending...or atleast, a poor ending in my opinion. I'm trying to get this up before the weekend ends, because I know I'll have zero time to write. I'm also sick, so while I'm typing this author's note, I'm desperately trying not to cough out my guts.
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sniffle
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Guess I won't be sleeping tonight. ):
But please, I still hope you enjoy! Thank for for the reviews, and thank you for taking the time to read this. I enjoy every one of them- especially those that point out what in particular he/she likes. Really, all of you are quite wonderful!
"I've been cooped up inside for too long, and I just wanted some fresh air. You must not have noticed me go down the stairs," Clare says rationally, trying to sound convincing.
"Jake and I may have gotten a little carried away there, hmm?"
Randall looks skeptically over at his daughter, not entirely buying her flimsy explanation. Clare, too preoccupied by the distant sound of a car driving away, doesn't really notice his scrutiny. He left so quickly- and what did he mean, that her parents would murder him if they found out he was here? Maybe she's a little biased, a little bit too smitten with him to observe from a third-person's perspective, but Eli is a good person. He's caring, devoted, and sweet- traits that would certainly appeal to anyone. Why wouldn't her mom and dad like him? She knows they like Jake very much, but if she chose someone else, they would understand, wouldn't they?
"Speaking of Jake, he's inside waiting to spend some time with you," he adds casually, walking alongside Clare. "He's been very patiently waiting all morning."
Clare nods. Jake's a nice boy too. It's no wonder they're so fond of him.
But, she thinks, if they knew Eli, they would like him too.
"Morning, Clare," Jake greets, exhaling a puff of smoke. The cigar clipped between his fingers makes her cringe, but she doesn't say anything about it. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm good, thank you," she says politely.
"Clare, Jake said good morning to you," Randal says, a little impatiently. "Go give him a hug."
Clare looks oddly at her father, taken aback by his strange demand. She then looks over at Jake, who just brings the dirty white stick back to his lips. He raises a questioningly eyebrow at her.
"Oh…okay," she says uncertainly. Taking a few hesitant steps forward, she leans over to embrace him. Quickly, before he had a chance to put his arms around her, she pulls away. Keeping her eyes down, she recedes and assumes position next to her father again.
Jake peers suspiciously at her. "Mr. Edwards, do you mind if I go upstairs for a bit? I think I might have left my phone there."
"By all means, go. And maybe you can take Clare with you," he says agreeably.
"Come on, Clare," Jake says, gesturing her with his finger. As soon as she's close enough, Jake reaches over and snakes his arm around her waist, leading her towards the stairs. His body feels uncomfortable pressed against hers; warm, but not invitingly warm in the way she likes. Not warm like Eli.
"Why do I have to go too?" Clare inquires confusedly, as Jake swings open her bedroom door.
"Just come," he beckons.
As soon she she's in, he closes the door quietly behind him. He pulls out a box of cigarettes out of his pocket, proceeding to light it with a lighter. And all at the same time, he leans back against the door, blocking the exit.
"So, you're back to sneaking around with Eli?"
She blinks, registering the word "back". Has she sneaked around with him before? Is that why Eli was so concerned about being seen with her?
"He's not as subtle as he thinks he is," Jake continues, propping his elbow up on her dresser. "I could have heard his landing even if I was back at home."
"I love him," Clare blurts, blushing immediately as his facial expression changes. Her face heats up, so fiery hot that she's sure she could fry an egg on it. "At least, I think I do. I mean, I do but-"
"Do you remember him at all?" he asks coolly. Still indifferent, still completely lukewarm with the idea. Hardly anything seems to bother him. That, or he's just a really good actor.
"I don't remember anything," she answers in a quiet voice. "But Jake, you don't understand-"
"He's good at being manipulative, Clare," he cuts her off again. "That much I understand."
"He's not like that," she murmurs, sitting down on her bed. She stares at her hands, twiddling her thumbs on her lap. She wishes she had hard evidence, but she doesn't. You can solidify feelings. It's just something you know.
"That's what he wants you to think," he counters, closing the distance between them in three long strides. Clare lets out a small gasp at the sudden proximity, watching as he kneels down before her. She only goes limp when he takes her hands in his, holding them and sliding his fingers through the gaps between hers. "Clare…there are some things you don't know of, and he's playing them to his advantage."
"But Jake, I love him. I'm sorry, but there are just some things you know. He makes me feel…" she pauses, searching for the right word. "…complete. It feels right with him, you know?"
His eyes tighten, and Clare, in spite of speaking what she truly feels, immediately worries if she had said the wrong thing.
"That sounds a lot like what you said the last time around," he says, sounding strained.
"What happened last time?" she whispers, not at all liking how despondent he looks.
"He broke you, Clare," he says, with deep pity in his voice. "He tore you away from. He got you to run away with him, turning you against us."
"That…that can't be true," she says unsurely. "He's kind, Jake. He had been so sad when he realized I couldn't remember him. It broke his heart, and he tried so hard to make me remember…"
She's rambling. She doesn't have a very strong argument.
"I believe him," she adds.
"Do you really? Or do you want to believe him?"
He has a point there. The farther this conversation progressed, the more second-guessing she was beginning to do. She did want, so badly, to believe every word he said. It was promising, and she wanted that kind of promise in her life. She closes her eyes and rubs her temples, trying to remember exactly what Eli had said to manipulate her- it's easier said than done, and-
"I don't love Jake!" she shakes her head in angry desperation, wanting to emphasize that point with everything she had. Eli just looks at her with pained eyes, something of a cross of sorrow and hopelessness printed on his loving face. She's not getting through to him, but she's absolutely pertinacious. She won't give in. "He doesn't even love me!" she adds, frustrated that his expression isn't changing. "He's a selfish gold-digger who only wants to inherit my family's fortune and I don't want anything to do with him!"
"I know," he whispers ruefully, cupping her chin with quivering hands. His face is contorted with pain, with anger. "But you can't run anymore, can you?"
She feels his heart aching, and aches in return. She feels as if there's a huge brick lying on her chest, constricting her air way, making it hard for her to breathe.
"I'll feel cold when you leave," she sniffs, allowing him to wipe the falling tears with his shaking fingers. He looks like he's going to crying, but is trying s hard not to. He wants to be strong for her. "My heart will be cold and summer will never bring me the same warmth as when you're around."
He opens his mouth to speak, but it cut off by the sound of tires screeching to a halt. They whip their heads around watching with horror as the police care surround them.
One of them is Jake's car.
"Police! But your hands up!"
"Oh my God," she gasps, hand flying to her chest. "Why…why the hell am I listening to you?"
Jake's eyes widen, flashing when Clare abruptly gets to her feet. He scrambles backwards like a poor little child, having not expected her to yell so loudly.
"What are you-"
"You- you're manipulating me!" she screeches, reaching over and grabbing the only thing within arm span- her pillow- and whipping it at him. "It w-was you who tore us apart!"
"You don't know what you're saying!" he cries, trying to dodge the many fluffy pillows coming his way. Clare has a large collection sitting on her bed, and she fully intends on making good use out of it. She rather they be something a little sharper, like knives or something, but she feels so betrayed, she can't even think of anything else.
"There were twinkling lights!" she screams, slamming the last pillow down on his head. Her curls fly all over the place and her face is red with rage. Her movements are becoming wilder as everything becomes clear to her. She should feel delighted, of course, that she remembered at least something, but that's far from how she really feels. "You sent out police cars to find us! You sat there, all smug in the driver's seat without a single speck of mercy or pity and now you're telling me that Eli was the one who screwed me over? How dare you?"
"That's bull!" he yells, yanking the pillow out of her hand. Now disarmed, her eyes enlarge- but then she clenches her fist, daring to take a swing at him.
"Tell me what you know!" she demands in shriek, advancing towards him with her fist hovering above.
"I know you're insane," he mutters resentfully, staggering backwards with his eyes on her fist.
"You sickening, gold-digger-"
"I'm not a gold-digger!" Jake roars, throwing his arms up in the air. "That was your parents, damn it!"
"So you have been lying to me, correct?"
He pales, immediately regretting his words. Clare narrows her eyes furiously at him. She knows that he had been lying to her the whole time, but the fact that he had continued to lie about it, even when she called him out on it, is just wrong. Her muscles tighten in preparation, and she resists with undeniably great effort. If she lost it and punched him, there was no way he'd tell her anything.
"So my parents are gold-diggers?" she asks in clarification, struggling to keep her voice steady.
Looking like a deer caught in headlights, Jake balks. Smart boy should know better than to cross Clare Edwards.
"My dad and them had an agreement," he swallows. "His money in return for their girl."
So that's all she really was to them: a trade good. And all this time, she believed that she was truly lucky enough to have such supportive, loving parents…the lies.
"But why me?" she queries, still professional. The betrayal can be death with later. There are more pressing matters at hand.
Jake shrugs. "Pretty virgin girls are hard to come by."
"So that's just it? My parents sold me to you because I'm a virgin?" Clare says in outrage. "I'm their daughter!"
"Who they treated like crap," he adds blatantly, cringing a bit when she shoots him a death glare. "It's true! Look at your wrists!"
And sure enough, when she lifts up her sleeves, she's horrified to find faded red marks decorating her pale flesh. It looks as if someone had seized her with and angry hand, squeezing her, nails digging into her. She unravels her fist, and lightly touches the faint marks.
"How do I know you're not lying?" she demands, flickering over to him.
"Because I don't know what and when you'll remember, and I don't want to risk you getting any madder," he says in a hurry, shrinking back as if he thought she would hit him.
And that would be good enough for her.
"But they're kind to me now," she continues, yanking down her sleeve. "Why's that?"
"Isn't it obvious? They want a do-over. You dad was actually talking to me in the kitchen in detail," he says. "He and Helen and are hoping to mold you the right way, now that they have a second chance."
"Being seen as an item rather than a person seems to be a reoccurring trend here," Clare mutters bitterly. "That's twisted, and sick, and immoral in every way possible!"
He shrugs. "That's your parents."
"How do you feel about this all, anyway?" she asks curiously, having realized that she had no idea what Jake was thinking. "You seem to be going breezily along to this without an opinion."
He sighs wearily. "I don't think my opinion really matters in this situation."
"So, what? You're just going to give it up?" she says in disbelief, only to be responded by a shrug. Maybe Jake isn't really the bad guy in this scenario, she thinks, letting this new piece of information soak in. Immediately she's flooded with guilt, having given him such a hard time. No one seems to care what Jake thinks. Just the same, no one seems to care what Clare thinks.
"It doesn't have to be like this, you know," she says quietly, lowering her arm.
He quirks an eyebrow at her. "What do you mean?"
-x—
Eli whistles happily upon microwaving a frozen mini pizza manoeuvring his way around the kitchen with a bit of a spring to his step. In a little radio set on the table plays some cheerful, upbeat music, and he dances along without a single care. The weight of the world is no longer on his shoulders, and he's as jolly as an elf on Christmas Eve.
"Someone's happy," Adam smirks, entering the kitchen with his hair sticking up in all directions. He has to squint to adjust his eyes from the bright lights Eli has turned on.
"And someone has obviously just woken up from a goodnight sleep," he sing-songs, popping open the microwave door and pulling out his food. Adam watches with amused eyes as his best friend of many years, whom he had never seen this joyous, shimmy on over to the freezer to take out another frozen pizza. Eli shoves the prepared one next to Adam's seat, gesturing it with his hands.
"Yes, but that doesn't change the fact that someone's fucking ecstatic," Adam says, eyeing his breakfast with an eager grin.
"Oh you know, the sun's out, the birds are singing," Eli says innocently, turning down the radio. "What's not to be happy about?"
Adam rolls his eyes, chewing loudly. "And this has nothing to do with the fact that Clare pretty much back in your arms?"
"You're exaggerating," he says dismissively. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
But Adam's not an idiot, and he didn't miss the foolish smile spreading across his face at the mention of her name. He rolls his eyes again, but contently so- he's just as happy to reassume his position back as their number one relationship cheerleader.
"So, did she remember or what?" he asks nonchalantly.
Eli presses his lips together, taking a bit of time before shelling out his answer. He sits down across from Adam, poking his small pizzas with his finger. "Not…exactly."
He arches an eyebrow.
"Stop it, I can feel you judging me," he snaps. "It's like I told you, man. It's there."
"I know, I know. It's just hard for someone who's never been in that deep to understand," Adam says hastily, bowing his head.
Eli softens. "You'll find someone one day, you know."
"Yeah, yeah, that's what everyone says," he waves him away. "Spare me the pity."
"It's not pity," Eli insists, more seriously now. "You didn't ditch me when I was going through. You don't leave when things get rough, and one girl out there will truly appreciate it."
Adam offers him a half-smile.
"You think so?"
"I guarantee it."
Just as Eli smiles back, the door bell rings. It's ten in the morning, and someone's at their door.
"I bet that's Clare again," Adam jokes, leaning back on his chair with a satisfied groan.
"Funny," Eli snorts, heading towards their front door. "Remember the last time she came over? One of the most terrifying moments of my life."
"I tied up her mom though," Adam chortles gleefully. As Eli grabs the knob and swings it open, he leans over to see from around him. "Oh would you look at that. Fancy seeing you here again, Clare."
"I have a proposition," she blurts, rosy-face and red-nosed from the sharp winter wind.
"Well, good morning to you too," Eli laughs, stepping back to invite her in. She comes in without hesitation, peering over at Adam with a slightly shy expression on her pretty face. She then proceeds to look around the house, as if it's her first time coming over. Heaven knows it's not, but Eli decided against saying anything. It's actually quite amusing, watching her take in every detail that she has forgotten. Just the same, he studies her, the memories from yesterday still fresh in his mind. He can't help but get a little excited.
"Hi," she says timidly, gazing at him through her long lashes. "Sorry for coming up here without notice. Jake…he told me where you lived and gave me ride up here. There's something I really want to talk to you about," she says, shuffling her feet. Her bright blue eyes peruse him gently, and he can see that she's unsure of how to act around him.
"Jake?" he asks, cocking his head to the side.
"We talked a little bit."
"Sounds serious," he saying teasingly, when inside this little piece of information sent his brain into overdrive. What exactly did they talk about? And more importantly, would this jeopardize all the progress that had been made yesterday? His palms start a to sweat a little, and images of the worst case scenario flash in his mind. Immediately he pictures Clare, glowing and beautiful and golden as she always is, giving him a coy smile. She sees him standing there, as he lets his arms dangle awkwardly at his side. As much as he wants to reach out and grasps her hand, he's not sure of his limits quite yet. He isn't even sure of what their status is, and he doesn't want to ruin anything before is starts.
Clare, he calls her, moving towards her with his hand outstretched. But something odd happens. The distance isn't closing between them, and so he pumps his leg harder. And harder. He begins to run towards her, sprinting with every ounce of strength he has. He's running, but nothing's happen. She's still far in the distance, and on the contrary, getting farther and farther away. Clare, blissfully unaware of his panic and exertion, just tilts her head to the side.
Who are you? She asks softly, voice echoing in his head. I don't know you.
Eli, now painfully far away from the girl of his dreams, trips and falls onto the ground from some unknown force. He wills his legs to to stand up, but he has no control over them. Clare, it's me! You know me!
Then, far in the distant next to her, a huge misty figure appears out of thin air. He squints, fist thinking it was a mirage, but gasping when he realizes it was Jake.
Jake, who is he? she asks him.
The boy looks at Eli with utter disdain, wrinkling his nose. Then, just because he can, wraps his arm around Clare.
It's some freak. Don't listen to him, Clare.
Liar! Eli's mouth moves wordlessly in shock and pain, unable to stop the tall boy from taking Clare away from him. He's helpless, he has all the power, and she doesn't remember him.
"Eli? Eli, look at me."
He snaps out of his reverie, looking at her with a pained expression on his face.
"If…if you're here to tell me that this was a bad idea and that you choose Jake, go right ahead and say it. I-I won't try to stop you, but please…just tell me now," he begs, choking a little bit in the end.
Clare widens her eyes. "What are you talking about Eli?"
"You talked to Jake," he says bleakly.
"Yes, but that doesn't magically erase my feelings for you," she says, smiling with a cute little blush on her cheeks. Gauging Eli's expression, she giggles and teases his fingers with hers. The simple gesture sends electric sparks through his veins, but just stands, utterly confused.
"But I thought-"
She reaches over, touching his lip with her index finger.
"You can be a babbling fool later," she teases. "Right now, we have a lot to discuss."