Page 33 of Passing Notes
“I remember.”
“I still have them,” she whispered. Her eyes were lit with from within. The Clara I used to know shone through more and more each time I got the chance to be around her. It took everything in me not to yank her into my arms and kiss the hell out of her.
Every time I had seen her reading one of my notes from afar, I’d wanted to run to her and pull her close. Back then she would have let me do it; she hadn’t cared about secrets like I had. She would have melted into me with kisses and smiles like she had done whenever we were alone. But she wasn’t mine anymore, no matter how much it still felt like she should be, so I took a step away from her instead.
“I have yours too,” I confessed.
“Really? Does your ex know about that?” The light in her eyes had died, leaving a dim melancholy glow in its place.
“No. There’s a lot she never knew about me.”
She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Why do I like hearing that?”
“I’m not ready to give you that answer, probably as much as you’re not ready to hear it.”
“You’re right about that.” She laughed lightly. “I’m not ready for any of this. I didn’t realize being here would feel this way. So nostalgic and sad. How can you stand it?”
“It’s weird sometimes,” I admitted. Weird. Right. Working myself to the bone and being too tired to think seemed to have been my coping mechanism after I’d quit binge drinking in college.
“It’s like we’re stuck in a stinky time machine full of old gym socks and Tater Tots. Why does it smell the same?” She gave a choked laugh, desperate to lighten the mood.
“You nailed it. The place reeks.”
“Also, Mr. Neal is still a total dick. I mean, I knew it from him being in the neighborhood, but why did it have to hurt so much when he talked down to me here?”
The quiver in her voice nearly split my heart in two. “God, Clara?—”
“Never mind.” She managed a trembling smile, holding up a hand as if to wave off her emotions. “I know better than to let anyone get to me anymore. I have to go back to my class.”
The bell rang. Students swarmed the hallway, and a few aimed curious glances our way as we lingered in front of her locker.
I took another step back. Old habits die hard and, apparently, keeping our relationship secret was still second nature to me.
“Will I see you at Genie’s tonight?” Our eyes met and an old gleam of understanding flashed between us. “If old man Neal is there, I’ll protect you, I mean it.”
“Like when you told him he was wrong for being so mean all the time? That there are ways to teach lessons without being cruel?”
“That was kid stuff. I could probably do better now.”
“It sounded pretty grown up to me. Anyway, spite has always been a great motivator for me. We’ll see what happens.” I watched her walk away as my heart thudded a painfully familiar beat in my chest.
My anxiety had returned. I used to be so keyed up when I was a student here. Years had tamed it, time had done its best to erase the way I had felt as a kid—after my dad died, after my mom changed, after my brother went off to college, and I was left swirling in the toxicity of what was left of my family.
Clara had held me together back then. Being with her—someone who could relate to the fucked-up mess my life had become—was the only thing that had kept me going. No one had ever understood me the way she had, not even my own brother.
I felt like I’d lost her all over again today and I didn’t know how to cope with it.
The rest of the day went by quickly, but I was oblivious to everything. I was lost in my thoughts, trying to figure out how I could make things right when I still couldn’t understand what had gone wrong in the first place.
Maybe I could take a shot tonight—get her to talk to me, buy her a drink, ask her to dance. Anything to force a reaction out of her, something beyond the cagey sarcasm she seemed comfortable hiding behind. It was cute, but I’d had enough of it.
I was ready for something real. Like that morning on her balcony, or when we first saw each other. She’d been pissed at me, but at least it was honest.
It felt like I was wound up in a string she was yanking around but I couldn’t find it in me to care. Not when my past and present were tied up in memories of her and all I wanted was the truth.
CHAPTER 11
NICK
