by Laura Winter
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We had a week before Thanksgiving break and Clara and I still weren’t speaking to each other. I was starting to feel the guilt pile up as she looked more and more distant every day. The more I thought about my dad’s advice, the more I realized maybe I could have handled things better. But she was the one who walked away in the first place. She was the one not telling me the truth when she knew about us all along. She had to make the first move if she wanted us to work again, but it was probably too late.
Dad was preparing to go back on assignment after Thanksgiving, which was a relief. I was tired of answering all his questions about school and why I kept shouting in the middle of the night. At least I wasn’t crashing into walls from that nightmare… the same nightmare that wouldn’t go away.
On Thursday before break, Glitch was in a nervous fit. With our history presentation the next day, he was terrified Clara wouldn’t show up or do her part. It didn’t help that she had been absent the last two days.
“Okay, she just has a headache. She’ll come tomorrow for her part,” he sighed, setting his phone down on the lunch table.
“Wait, you texted her?” I asked.
I stopped poking my lunch and frowned. I don’t know why it bothered me that he reached out, but since she hadn’t talked to us in a month, I couldn’t blame him for being worried.
“Yeah, and this isn’t the first time I’ve checked in on her. You should probably care more about your girlfriend’s feelings,” he replied, crossing his arms.
I shook my head. “Not my girlfriend anymore. She’s the one who walked out, remember?”
“Oh, you’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?”
“Do what?” I asked.
“Give it to you straight since you’ve been avoiding the topic of Clara since you broke up. That girl was the greatest thing to happen to you, besides me, of course, and then you had to go and let her believe her worst fear,” he replied.
I groaned. “I thought you were on my side.”
He shook his head at me. “This is not about sides, Nate, but you know I’ll always be on yours. That’s why I’m telling it like it is. You didn’t listen to anything she said that night because you were so focused on the fact that she was hiding her powers. Did you not realize what you did to her? She was terrified that you knowing her powers would make you see her differently; make you not trust her. The moment you opened your mouth, you did just that. You pushed her out.”
“Me not trust her? She didn’t trust me enough to tell me about what she could do. That’s the real problem here,” I said, trying to keep my voice down as my emotions built up again.
“Nate,” Glitch sighed. “She lost her memory. All eighteen years of her life are just a blank space. Could you trust anyone without having any memories of who you were or why something like that happened? Even if she was working her way there, you can’t blame her for hesitating. She didn’t know who to trust and had no one to help her. We were lucky we got as much out of her as we did. We have no idea what that felt like for her.”
Shit. For a month, I had blamed her for everything, but my dad and Glitch were right. I was the one who needed to be fixing things.
“Yeah, you messed up,” Glitch said, patting my shoulder. “But you can still try to make things right, and I’ll leave you with this nugget. Clara wasn’t just the greatest thing to happen to you. You were also the greatest thing to happen to her.”
I slumped in my chair. “How are you so good at this?”
He shrugged. “Coming from someone with trust issues from his parents left him, I know it’s not easy to let someone in. But you found a way to make me feel less alone, and that’s exactly what C needs right now. Make sure she knows she’s not alone anymore.”
20
Clara
Thursday before Thanksgiving break. Finally. I just wanted to have a week of not going to a pointless school and seeing my jerk of an ex.
I can't believe I was dumb enough to think Nate would be different; that me having powers wouldn't turn him into a self-centered ass. I had given him everything and he broke that trust in an instant. I was left to be alone.
Which is exactly what I needed today with a headache. I called in sick to school, knowing that if I was ever going to make it through tomorrow, including the history project next to Nate, I was going to need all my energy.
I shouldn't have been surprised to see a text from Glitch at lunchtime asking if I was going to be there for the project on Friday. I guess in all of this, I could at least be respectful of him. While he kept his distance, he had texted me at least once a week to ask if I was okay, especially if I checked myself out of school for a headache. I don't think Nate knew he was staying in contact with me.
I have a headache. I'll be there for the project, promise.
I placed my phone back on the nightstand and slid back under the covers to hide in the dark.
As much as breaking up with Nate was torture, I wish it didn't look like our relationship was the reason I wasn't eating or sleeping. The voices in my headache echoed with hate, begging me to give in to the Blue Star. It sang false promises of wiping away the nightmare I had every night; the one where Nate tried to catch me as I bled out from a non-existent wound on my stomach. They told me that the cold feeling in my soul would go away and I'd get all my memories back if I would just let it take control.
But I couldn't do it. I had failed once and lost everything in my head. I had lost my past, and I had to learn to trust the previous version of me who was afraid of it. She was the only thing I had left in this world, and while I'd do anything to get her back, I wouldn't do the one thing she promised not to do. I wouldn't give in, even if the voices pressed back and made me too sick to function.
Friday morning came almost instantly as I slept through all of Thursday. And that kind of sleep and rested mind gave me the perfect idea. I needed to prove that I wasn't the helpless, heartbroken teenage girl. I was so much more than that.
I straightened my hair for the first time, brushing out the tangles from the last week of not being able to run a comb through it. The new, dark purple dye was perfect to hide my roots that were growing out, complemented by a fitting leather jacket to add to my intimidation factor. Maybe this would be my final move against Nate; taking the knife he had stabbed in my heart and shoving it back into his.
All eyes turned to me as I walked in the classroom, just as I hoped. Shoulders back and fists clenched, I made my way to my desk, enjoying all of the thoughts ramble on about how it looked like I had just murdered someone.
Oh, shit. Nate might be too late. Glitch’s thought rang through as he made eye contact with me briefly. He gave me a half smile.
Too late? Too late for what?
Next to him, Nate tried to catch my attention. It was a new gesture, considering he had spent the last month completely ignoring me. Is that what Glitch was thinking about? Luckily, the bell rang before he could say anything, because I was pretty sure if he had tried to talk to me, I would have stabbed him with basically every pen I had in my backpack.
Mrs. Roberts stood from her desk, getting everyone's attention. Time to sit through the easiest day of the year. "Would anyone like to volunteer and go first?"
My hand was raised before she had even started her sentence. I stormed to the front, Nate and Glitch following close behind. As Glitch started us off seamlessly, I put on my best act. I followed along with the jokes, acted along with the material, and even had a great back and forth with Nate. If someone didn't know that Nate and I had broken up, I could have convinced everyone that we were all still great friends. But I was just trying to get to the end of the presentation. By the time it was over, I was back in my seat and prepared to ignore Nate for the rest of eternity. Hell, since I had no one relying on me anymore, I probably wouldn't even come back to school after the break.
Nate sat down again, but to my surprise he leaned closer to me and whispered. "C, can we talk?"
>
I looked over at him, disgusted. "Are you serious right now? You ignored me for a month and now you want to talk?” I rolled my eyes and turned back to the front of the class.
Please, I really messed up. Will you just give me a minute?
I glared at him, furious that after all this time of accusing me of listening to everything, he was going to use that against me right now so that he could get something he wanted. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my headphones, weaving them up my shirt so they would stay hidden from the teacher, though I was pretty sure she had zoned out already.
The Blue Star voices came roaring back, promising something new. They found the gaps in lyrics, telling me that letting them in would help me get rid of the pain; get rid of the heartbreak. I didn't want them to be right, but it was true. Nate was everything to me, and he had broken my heart, but I couldn't let him see the truth of what he did to me. I couldn't be weak.
But the longer I listened, the more I wanted to let them in. I wanted to be free of the pain. I didn't want the constant reminder that Nate had left me all alone to deal with this shit. There was only one option, and it wasn't letting the Blue Star take control. I would find the answers and prove I was capable of fighting back. I’d learn to protect myself. I didn’t need anyone else.
I was out of my seat the second the bell rang, but Nate must have had the same idea. As his hand reached out to grab mine and keep me from storming away, his skin burned against my palm. I yanked my hand away, horrified that I had given the Blue Star so much power over me. I had basically turned into an icicle.
Nate looked at me in confusion. Does she have more powers I don't know about? How is she so cold?
I spun around, afraid to admit that I had let the Blue Star get the best of me like that. I shouldn’t have let them continue taunting me. I shouldn’t have listened.
I made my way through the students in the hall, walking past my English class and out the main doors without anyone noticing. The voices screamed louder, gripping at my throat and making me nauseous as I walked home.
The next week was a fog as I faded in and out of migraines and sleeplessness. I felt the constant pressure of cold around my neck, tightening as I fought back against my emotions and the voices. I stopped eating completely, unable to swallow anything without immediately throwing up. How long could I fight this pain? Would I eventually cave and let the Blue Star win? At least I wouldn’t have to suffer.
Between throbs of pain, I continued to dig through the library. There were no answers to my memory, no details about the Blue Star in any of the books except that it was evil. I wanted to keep searching but I was losing hope… and I was reading the same blurry paragraph over and over.
I gave up, grunting as I chucked the book off the second floor and watched it explode in a mess against the opposite wall. I slumped against the bookcase and slid down to the floor, pressing my hands into my temples as the headache roared to life again. Spots clouded my vision, even as I closed my eyes against the searing pain. Pressure built in my skull and all I wanted to do was release that torture.
Wait, that was the answer. I focused on the power inside me and shoved it out all at once. Screaming, I felt the library explode around me. Papers and books flew off the desk and out of the bookcases, littering the air and floor. But I couldn’t control it now. The railing on the staircase crumpled in a loud screech, drowning out the scream that continued to escape my throat. Lights shattered above me, showering glass everywhere, but the more I tore the room to shreds, the more my headache released. The invisible, cold hand that was crushing my chest loosened it’s grip and I gasped for air, rolling onto my side as I panted.
I could hear the papers settling around me now that the voices had died out, giving me something new to focus on. I swallowed the metallic taste in my mouth and opened my eyes, focusing on the library that was barely together. I lifted myself off the ground slowly, confused as to how in all of my destruction, the windows and desk were still surprisingly intact.
Holy shit. This was one of the outbursts that previous me had mentioned, only ten times worse. The entire library was in shreds, as if a tornado had destroyed the inside of House.
I threw my right hand over my mouth as I gasped. What if this had happened while I was in public? What if this was what I did to the gym. What if I really had caused the earthquake?
Something warm ran down my left arm and dripped from my fingertips. I looked down and groaned, watching blue blood seep through my long sleeve and run down my hand. In the outburst, I had reopened the scar on my arm.
I gripped the railing with my right hand to steady myself as I started to cry. What was I becoming? I was fighting against an evil Blue Star, but in the process I had made things so much worse. I couldn’t control any of it, and I was no closer to answers than I was three months ago. I was just as empty… and now I was truly alone.
I sank to the ground and curled into myself as I started to sob.
21
Nate
“Nathaniel.”
My dad jarred me out of a trance as he threw more food on top of my plate. He shook his head.
“Come on, it’s Thanksgiving,” he said. “At some point, you’re going to have to move on from her.”
How do you move on from a girl you dream about every night? Or, maybe more appropriately, how do you move on when you know you’re the one who messed it up and made sure your already fragile girlfriend will never trust you again?”
“Dad, you don’t understand what we had. I screwed everything up and now she won’t talk to me. How am I supposed to fix that?” I asked, dropping my fork as I pushed my plate away. I’m sure the knots in my stomach wouldn’t agree with more food anyway.
“Son, this is just the first of many relationships you’ll have. Learn from these mistakes and make the next one better.”
I didn’t want a different relationship. I wanted to be with Clara. I groaned and rubbed my temples. “If this is how I’m going to feel after every breakup, I don’t think I’ll do it ever again.”
My dad laughed. “You’re still young. There will be plenty of chances to move on. I do wish I could have met your first girlfriend if she made you feel as strongly as you do now. I guess I’ll just have to hope you’ll tell me when you find another.” He stood up and started clearing the dishes. “I’m going to be back for Christmas, so hopefully you’re in a better mood then.”
Right. I had been so caught up in my emotions that I forgot he was leaving tonight. It would be nice to get the house back to myself. No one would be around to judge my post-breakup heartbreak anymore.
I helped finish the dishes as my dad threw his suitcases in the car. I waved him off, enjoying the crisp, November air. The familiar chill of cold was nice, though I would have much rather felt it through Clara’s touch. She was probably sitting alone at home now, on Thanksgiving of all days, listening to her music so she could continue to ignore me.
Music.
I turned and sprinted inside to grab my phone. Clara had said she had given me everything, and to her, music meant everything. That’s what she knew. Through all of her missing memories, that’s what she always turned to. I scrolled until I found the song I was looking for and sent it.
Leave a Light on. Tom Walker.
Please, C. I know I broke your trust, but you’re not alone. I just want a chance to get it right.
I should have known not to expect anything back. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the mass of unanswered texts I had sent over the last week. All I wanted was a chance to hear Clara’s voice again, to hear her side of everything, but I knew deep down she didn’t owe me that. I didn’t deserve any of it because I was a selfish idiot. That guilt was going to be the end of it.
I sighed and sent one last song.
Pieces (feat. Noah Kahan). Matoma.
I’m so sorry for what I did. I get it if you don’t want to give me another chance, but I’m here if you ever do.
I could
have stayed glued to my phone, but I knew she was never going to respond. Not after the way I treated her. I left my phone on the bed and changed into sweats and a t-shirt to sleep, even though it was early in the night. By the time I finished brushing my teeth and had crawled under the covers, that nagging feeling was back. I could check my phone, just one more time.
My heart leapt into my throat when I saw the message I had missed five minutes ago. Clara responded.
I can’t sleep.
Me either. Can we talk?
I didn’t have to wait more than five seconds before she responded.
I’m outside.
I jumped out of bed and sprinted downstairs, knocking nearly everything over as I ran to the door and threw it open, almost shouting my apology.
