Light in the Shadows Part 3

It was a full blown party.

I really wished Jake had told me that Ray's parents were out of town. Then I sure as h.e.l.l wouldn't have bothered to show up.

I used to love to party. I used to love hanging out with my friends and getting loaded. But that was "PC." Pre-Clay. Back in the days when I wasn't hyper sensitive to the whispers and looks. The first few weeks after I had returned from my dramatic stint as a teenage runaway had been brutal. I had been miserable and depressed. Trying to go on with my life after losing Clay had been daunting, to say the least. And it was made infinitely worse by the rumors and the whispers and the blatant stares I received once I had returned to school.

I tried my d.a.m.ndest to seem unaffected by it. No one had to know that every mention of his name made me die a little bit more. I wore a fake smile while I tried to become that other Maggie again. The one who would never run head first off of an angsty cliff of teenage drama.

Sure the level of gossiping had subsided a bit, but it was still there. And I knew people still looked at me as "the girl whose boyfriend had tried to off himself."

So I had purposefully avoided social functions as much as possible. Sure, I was moving on into my Post-Clay existence. But it was slow going. And approaching that front door, I knew, deep down that the party was a bad idea. But I had forced myself to suck it up.

And darned if I hadn't been right. While it had been great to see Claire (I had been a bad friend to more than just Rachel and Danny), the rest of it well and truly sucked a fat one. Jake had found me seconds after my arrival and seemed to take it upon himself to be my party guide. It was like he was my escort at a freaking debutante ball or something. Taking me around to groups of people I could give a s.h.i.t about talking to. He was so persistent in me having a good time that it bordered on pushy and annoying. But I had grit my teeth and pushed down the urge to tell him to back the h.e.l.l off. I smiled, I made asinine chit chat. I was the belle of the c.r.a.ppy ball.

Rachel and Danny had been there, which always made things better. And for a moment I thought I had succeeded in salvaging the night. I had convinced my jangled nerves to take a hike and I was actually able to engage in semi-comfortable conversation with people who I hadn't talked to in months. That's right, one point for socially competent Maggie Young!

Then Dana 'I wanted to bang your boyfriend' Welsh had p.i.s.sed all over my quite enjoyable parade. That b.i.t.c.h was lying in wait to bring the smack down.

She had sneered at me with Jake's arm slung around my shoulders. She had tossed her obnoxiously shiny hair over her shoulder and laughed. "Jake, I'd watch out if I were you...I hear crazy is contagious." Her evil henchman, i.e. "friend" McKenna had giggled beside her like a deranged hyena.

Jake had tensed up and stared at the evil duo. "Excuse me?" he had asked, as though he couldn't believe what she had just said. But give me a break, as if her rudeness was surprising. Dana had simply shrugged.

"Well, she's already made one guy want to kill himself." Dana and McKenna had laughed as though that were the funniest thing ever. I could feel the blood leave my face and I had felt faintly nauseous. As much as I was trying to channel the old Maggie, the one that would have jumped their s.h.i.t like white on rice, I just couldn't summon her. So I stood there dumbfounded, my mouth hanging open with the snappy comeback that never came.

Jake had jumped to my defense; which I should have appreciated. But what did I do? Oh yeah, I just walked away. Miss I hate bullies, took off with my tail between my legs. Maybe that was letting the mean girls win but all I had cared about was getting my a.s.s home as quickly as possible.

I looked up from my artistic potato mountains and rolled my eyes. "Sorry, just wasn't my scene." I brushed off my friend's very obvious concern. Daniel frowned and looked as though he wanted to say something else but Rachel cut him off.

"Well, you didn't miss much. Except for Ray puking all over the kitchen," Rachel said, shuddering.

"Yuck. Seriously?" I pushed my tray away, and crossed my arms on the table. I watched a little wistfully as Daniel opened up a Snicker's bar and handed it to Rachel. She took it and gave him a sweet smile in thanks. He ran his fingers up her arm, stopping to brush her hair off of her shoulder. Seeing the way his hand lingered on her skin made my throat close up and my eyes start to burn.

Their absolute love and affection for each other, while totally beautiful and deserved, still had me looking away before I succ.u.mbed to my tears. I hated that I couldn't just be happy for them. But it was really hard seeing such devotion when my life was devoid of anything resembling the contentment they radiated together.

"Yeah, I went over the next day to help him clean up and it was rank. Ray was so hung over that he spent most of the time dry heaving in the sink," Daniel shared. I pushed my depressing and lonely thoughts out of my head.

"You're a better friend than me, Danny boy. No way would I help anyone clean up vomit," I said seriously. Rachel tossed a napkin at me.

"Hey! You wouldn't help me clean up puke? Really?" she complained. I raised my eyebrow at her at shook my head.

"Is that a surprise? I have my limits," I told her. My attention was pulled from my friend to watch Paul Delawder amble into the cafeteria.

The school bully closed in on his newest target; a hapless freshman who quickly lost his cell phone and his lunch. I almost got to my feet, ready to take on the nutwad again. But Mr. Kane had for once witnessed the situation and was intervening.

I was flooded with clear memories of that day almost nine months ago, when I had rushed in to save a boy who really didn't want my help. A boy who ended up needing me to save him so badly that he forgot to save himself. I had let that boy down and now here I was a sad sh.e.l.l of who I had been.

I let out a noisy sigh and I turned my attention back to Rachel and Daniel who wore almost identical looks of worry. I wish I could laugh at them. They were so transparent. They were scared to death I was going to crawl back into that dark hole I had disappeared into after I came back from North Carolina.

But there was no way I would do that. Because I was going to move on, even if my heart rebelled at the idea.

As if on cue, Jake slammed his tray down on the table beside me. I jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion. He slid onto the bench and quickly reached over to take my chocolate chip cookie. I let him, not wanting to engage in a fake protest about it.

I watched Jake out of the corner of my eye as he greeted Rachel and Daniel, who seemed genuinely pleased he was there. And I was overcome with some seriously intense dej vu. This whole thing was wrong.

Jake was sat in exactly the same spot that had been Clay's. He was laughing with my friends and taking bits of my lunch in a way that should have been reserved for Clay. I started to feel irrationally angry about that. I didn't want Jake Fitzsimmons sitting there, in a seat meant for someone else.

What had I just thought about moving on? Because right now, my body, my mind and my heart wasn't moving past the fact that the wrong guy sat beside me. I got to my feet without a word. I dumped my food unceremoniously onto Jake's tray. "If you're so d.a.m.n hungry, just have it all," I barked. Rachel and Danny, who had been in the middle of telling Jake about a movie they had seen, became instantly quiet.

Jake's mouth hung open in shock and he looked at me with hurt evident on his face. And that made me feel even worse. "Sorry," I mumbled and then walked away as fast I could without actually running.

Of course Rachel followed me. "Mags! Wait up!" she called out as I tried to make my escape. There would be no getting away from her, so I stopped and let her catch up, resigning myself to a round of "what's wrong?"

But I should have known that Rachel would understand exactly what I needed. Because she didn't ask me anything. "Let's go to the library and study for that Chem pop quiz you know we're going to have," she said, pulling on my arm.

I looked down at the pet.i.te girl and wanted to hug her. And I would have, if that were my thing. But since it wasn't, I just let her pull me down the hallway. And like that, my fantastic friend pushed me straight into that normal I was desperate to have.

Though once the floodgates were opened, it was pretty hard to shut them again. Clay's memory taunted me all day long. Who was I kidding? Even as I tried so hard to get on with things, he was always there waiting to yank me back again. The ghost of him was almost more dangerous than the real thing.

After school I rushed home, giving my friends an excuse of a headache. They hadn't questioned me, even as I knew they saw straight through my bulls.h.i.t. Luckily my parents hadn't gotten home from work yet, so pretending I was fine wasn't necessary.

I dropped my book bag on the couch and headed upstairs to my room, taking two steps at a time. Once there, I closed my door behind me and fell onto my bed. I was tired. Bone aching, gut wrenching tired. I stared at the ceiling and wished for the millionth time that I could talk to Clay. I just wanted to know that he was all right. I wanted to hear his voice saying my name like it was the air he breathed.

Which was so beyond stupid. He had left me behind. Had sent me that stupid letter telling me to move the f.u.c.k on. To get on with my life, as if forgetting about what he and I had been through was an easy thing to do. Maybe it had been for him. Not for the first time, I wondered if I had loved my sad, broken boy more than he was capable of loving me.

Without thinking about what I was doing I slid off my bed and got on my hands and knees to root under my bed. Finding what I was looking for, I pulled it out. The heavy package wrapped in newspaper. I didn't do fancy gift wrap. What was the point when it would be ripped apart?

Why was I hanging onto this thing? I had gotten the gift in the first week after losing Clay. I had been desperate to do something, anything, that allowed me to hold onto what we had. I had wrapped it and put it under my bed. Never forgetting about it, but not entirely sure what I was going to do with it either.

It wasn't like I could send it to him. I didn't even know where he was. And after getting the brush off, I should have just thrown it out. I stared at the gift a bit longer and then made up my mind.

I tucked it into my messenger bag and went back down stairs to grab my keys. Fifteen minutes later I was pulling into a familiar parking lot. My heart hammered in my chest and my breathing was heavy. What the h.e.l.l was I doing?

I found myself getting out of my car and walking toward the front of the store. The tinkling of bells indicated my entrance. Looking around, I was comforted by the familiarity of my surroundings.

I knew why I had avoided Ruby's Bookshelf but standing there, breathing in the pungent incense and hearing the predictable strains of the new age music over the speakers, I only felt peaceful. I wasn't hit by any of my newly acquired neurosis when confronted by anything "Clay related." No, this was a place I had loved before he came along and I realized that I could still enjoy being here.

"Maggie!" I turned to the sound of Clay's aunt Ruby, who had come around the counter and was practically running toward me. Despite the initial gut twisting that accompanied seeing Ruby after all this time, she was still a welcome sight.

"Hiya Ruby!" I said softly as I was enveloped in a warm hug. There was just something about this woman that made me feel safe. As if the bad memories could be washed away by her infectious happiness.

"It's been too long, my love." She squeezed my cheeks between her palms and I couldn't help but grin.

"You're right. It has been." I looked around the shop. "I think some new reading material is in order," I said, putting off the real reason for my visit. Ruby nodded and shooed me into the back where she kept the books.

"Take your time! I just got a bunch of new stuff. They're in a pile on the table there." Ruby seemed so genuinely glad to see me and I felt a bit guilty for not coming by sooner. I couldn't shut everyone and everything out. It was time for me to grow up and reintroduce myself to my spine.

So I did as Ruby said and took my time browsing the books. I even took it upon myself to shelve the items she clearly hadn't had time to sort out yet. It felt good to slip back into a part of my life that I had avoided for so long. And even if doing the mundane task reminded me of a dozen days spent doing this very thing with a boy I had loved and lost, it still felt good to do it.

After loading myself up with an armful of books, I made my way to the front counter. The shop was quiet, only a few other customers roamed about. Ruby reached out to take the books. "Wow, you really loaded up." She proceeded to drop them into a plastic bag and hand it to me without ringing them up.

"Uh, didn't you forget the whole paying part?" I laughed, pulling my wallet out of my messenger bag. Ruby waved my money away.

"You are absolutely not paying for a thing. I've missed you, Maggie. Consider this a happy as pie to see you gift." Ruby's wide smile made it hard to argue. Though I made a good show of grumbling.

"I want to pay, Ruby. Come on," I urged, still trying to shove some cash in her hand. She curled my fingers around the money and squeezed.

"This is also my way of saying thank you," she said quietly. I swallowed thickly.

"Thank you?" I asked weakly, though I knew instantly what she was getting at.

"Yes, Maggie. Thank you for being the loyal, amazing girl that you are. And for loving my boy the way you did." Her eyes sparkled with the strength of her words and I had to blink rapidly or I would start crying.

I cleared my throat, feeling overwhelmed by emotion. Almost recklessly, I yanked my bag open and pulled out the wrapped package, laying it on the counter. I pushed it towards Ruby. "Here," I said abruptly.

Ruby frowned and picked up the heavy gift. "What's this?" she asked me, turning it over.

My hands were shaking so I shoved them in my coat pocket. I took a deep breath. "I ran into Lisa..." I began and Ruby nodded.

"Yes, she said she saw you," Ruby admitted, watching me, waiting for me to explain what I had given her. I started to panic. Maybe this was a bad idea. I was just starting to try and put Clay in my rearview mirror. But here I was dredging everything up all over again, trying like h.e.l.l to hold open a door that had shut firmly in my face.

I was either an idiot or a complete glutton for punishment. I was beginning to think I was a mixture of both.

"Uh, yeah, well that's a gift for...Clay. For his birthday," I let out in a rush. Ruby's eyebrows rose and I could tell I had surprised her. "Well, Lisa said you were going to see him and I've had that for a few months now and it's just collecting dust under my bed. And it's not like I even know where to send the stupid thing, so I just thought you could give it to him. You know, because it'll be his birthday and all," I rambled on nervously.

I stopped before I could say anything else. Ruby watched me silently as I bit down on my lip, feeling ridiculously embarra.s.sed. Yeah, this was stupid. Clay probably didn't want a d.a.m.n thing from me. I looked pathetic and sad and all the million and one things that I probably was.

I reached out to take the gift back. "It was a stupid idea. Never mind," I mumbled but Ruby pulled it out of my grasp. I startled and then looked at her.

"I'll give it to him, honey. I'm sure he'd love to have it," she told me but I saw that she was bothered by something. She tucked the gift underneath the counter and I got the distinct impression that she wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to give it to her nephew. And that just made me feel even more foolish.

"Oh, well. Thanks," I said dumbly, wanting to get the h.e.l.l out of there now that I had made a complete and total idiot of myself.

I gathered my bag of books. "I'll see you around," I said dismissively, ready to leave.

"Maggie. I'll make sure he gets it. I promise," she called after me, though now I wasn't so sure I wanted him to have it. But I suppose it was too late now.

I left Ruby's shop and got into my car. Why couldn't I leave well enough alone?

Chapter Five.

-Clay-

It was my birthday. I wanted to be giddy. Excited even. But I just felt numb. It had been a long time since birthdays really meant anything to me. I seemed to recall a party when I was five, complete with scary clowns and pony rides. Maybe it was the clowns that ruined me for all future birthdays. Because those f.u.c.kers are scary.

Despite my self-imposed birthday gloominess, this year was different. Because today I turned eighteen.

Yep, eighteen.

I was finally a socially mandated adult. Able to vote, buy tobacco products and p.o.r.n. I could join the military and open a checking account. But these typically exciting rites of pa.s.sage meant s.h.i.t to me. Sure, it was great and all but I wasn't going to rush out and buy a pack of Camels and a Playboy (not like I could go anywhere anyway). Nope, this birthday was about something even sweeter.

This particular day was all about freedom. Because for the first time I was free. Free to make my own choices. My own mistakes.

Free to live on my own terms.

For the rest of my life freedom would taste like birthday cake. And I was good with that.

Control was well and truly mine. I had never really allowed myself to think about what I would do when that magical day arrived. And here I was, minutes into my adulthood and I felt almost overwhelmed with the possibilities.

This all felt like a dream. And dreams had a way of crashing down around you. So I always tried to stay away from dreams. They were nasty business for a guy with no future.

But there was a time not so long ago when dreams and a future weren't a ludicrous delusion. And that had led to something one hundred times more beautiful. And a thousand times more dangerous.

Hope.

Hope. That thing that got you up in the morning and made living that much easier. Hope. The indescribable emotion that had the power to level you when it was taken away. Because mine had died a tragic death at the hands of my own selfishness and fear. And even as I tried to reconcile my guilt and shame about ruining the one good thing I had, I still felt it like a sharp pain in the gut.

But today that pain twisted into something else and I recognized it for the amazing thing it was.

Hope.

It was there, hanging out in my heart with a polka dotted party hat on, waiting for me to realize that perhaps it had never really left me.

I woke up to Tyler blasting The Beatles "Birthday" accompanied by some of the worst dance moves I had ever seen. And coming from a guy with two left feet, that was saying something.

I sat up and wiped the sleep out of my eyes, trying to wrap my brain around the image of my normally shy and introverted roommate, gyrating around the room completely out of time to the music.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?" I asked, laughing. Tyler pumped his fists over his head and jumped on the desk chair, singing at the top of his lungs.

Not thirty seconds later, there was an authoritative knock on our door and I shot Tyler a look as he scrambled to turn the music down. Jonathan, the aide on duty poked his head in the door and gave us a stern look. Jonathan was probably in his late twenties and already balding, poor guy. But he was nice enough, in that I-still-live-in-my-parents'-bas.e.m.e.nt kind of way.

"Guys, it's seven in the morning. You know the rules about music. I'd hate to confiscate your stereo." Tyler looked sheepish and switched the music off. The Grayson Center was all about rules, birthday or not.

"Sorry, man," my roommate mumbled, clearly embarra.s.sed by the reprimand. I got out of bed and stretched, scratching the back of my head.

Jonathan gave us a smile. "Just don't let it happen again. I hate having to be the bad guy." The aide looked over at me and threw something in my direction. I grabbed it before it fell to the floor. It was one of those cheesy "I'm the Birthday Boy" b.u.t.tons that you wear when you're a kid.