Find You in the Dark

by A. Meredith Walters

  “That's cool. Just call me later.” I told her, not wanting her to feel guilty for having to cancel our afternoon. Rachel gave me a hug. “I still want to hear all about your run in with Clayton. I know there was more to that conversation than you're telling me.” She wagged her finger at me and I chuckled. “Sure, whatever you say.” I said, following her to her car.

  I waved as she pulled out of my driveway. Mom and Dad had already left and I was stuck in the quiet house alone. I really didn't feel like being by myself so I tried calling Daniel. I got his voice mail and didn't bother leaving a message. Well, that exhausted my entire social circle; how sad. So I was then faced with an endless afternoon with nothing to do.

  Grabbing my keys, making sure my house key was on the ring, to appease my mother, I got in my car with no real agenda. I headed over to Fayetteville, the next town over. Once there, I made my way toward the older part of town and pulled into a small parking lot. I looked at the beat up sign in front of the tiny brick building and smiled. Ruby's Bookshelf was my favorite store. I hadn't been here in months and it seemed a great way to pass the afternoon.

  The door chimed as I went through it and I breathed in the familiar smell of incense and old books. The owner had the best collection of eclectic and used books. In the front of the store were glass cases full of crystals and new age jewelry. The shelves on the walls were lined with tarot card decks and rune sets.

  I made my way to the back of the store, where it broke off into a separate space for the used books. I stopped first at the small cart just inside the room, looking through the “new” items Ruby had gotten in. I picked up a collection of essays by William Faulkner and went to a worn armchair in the corner.

  I was so engrossed that I didn't know he was there until I felt someone beside me. I looked up to see Clayton Reed standing beside my chair, his arms loaded down with books. He turned up one side of his mouth in a half smile. “Hey, Maggie.” He said quietly, not looking away from me. I felt the insane urge to smooth my hair, but I resisted, not wanting to come across like a moron.

  “Hey.” I said back, closing the Faulkner book and getting up so I could return it to the stack. “So, what are you doing here?” He asked, shifting the books in his arms. I looked around and lifted my hands. “Oh I don't know, baking a cake. Learning CPR, take your pick.” I remarked sarcastically. Clay smiled, apparently appreciating my dry humor. He dropped his armful of books on a nearby table and started going through them, checking them over carefully, selecting one, then disappearing down an aisle to place it on a shelf.

  I walked over and picked up a beat up copy of Kurt Vonnegut's Dead Eye Dick. Clay appeared at my side and looked over my shoulder at the book. “You ever read it?” He asked. I shook my head and looked at him. Wish I hadn't done that. Because being that close to him literally took my breath away. Why did he have to be so cute? And smell so good? It was almost disconcerting and more than a little hard to deal with when I was trying to be all normal and stuff.

  “You should. It's one of my favorites.” I started to hand it to him but he gently pushed it back into my hands. “No, you take it. Read it when you've got time.” “Uh, thanks.” I murmured, tucking the book into my bag.

  I followed Clay down another aisle as he put more books on the shelves. “So you work here or something?” I asked him. Clay arched his eyebrow at me. “Nah, I'm here to go fishing, or learn tight rope walking. Take your pick.” He volleyed my sarcasm back at me and I grinned. “Touche, Mr. Reed. Touche.” He chuckled and handed me a pile of books to hold as he carefully put them in their proper places.

  After a few minutes, Clayton finally answered me. “I started working here last week. You know, after I moved here. My aunt Ruby owns the place.” He said shyly. Again, he seemed uncomfortable with revealing anything personal. “Really, your aunt owns this place? It's seriously my favorite store. I try to come in here at least once a month.” I told him, genuinely enthused.

  Clay smiled. “I'll tell her you said that. She'd be pleased.” “So your aunt...do you live with her?” I asked, digging again for any little bit of elusive information. Clay turned back to the books he was putting away, his shoulders suddenly very tense. “Yeah.” He said shortly.

  He was definitely communicating loud and clear that he did not want to talk about this topic. Too bad for him, because I wasn't listening. “So where are your parents then?” I asked, following him again as he moved down the rows of books. “They're in Florida. Where I'm from.” He answered. Okay, he was not very good with the details. “So, you're not living with them because...?” I trailed off.

  Clay turned around and looked at me. His cheeks had two bright blotches of red and he looked annoyed. “Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything. But I don't really know you. I'm not one to vomit up my life story to random people.” I felt my gut twist. I tried not to be hurt by his words. He was right after all. He didn't know me from Adam and here I was grilling him about his life. I was the one being rude and invasive.

  “Sorry, Clay. I'm not trying to be nosy. I'm just interested in getting to know you is all.” I told him sincerely. The tension left Clayton's shoulders and he seemed to relax. He turned back to shelving the books. “Why are you so interested in me?” He asked quietly. Hmm. How to answer that one? I didn't want to tell him that I thought he was the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen and wanted to have his babies. That might be a little much. So I gave him the next true statement that came to mind.

  “I would like to be your friend. If that's all right.”

  Clay looked at me strangely. I couldn't read his expression at all and he stood quietly for a moment, studying me. “Yeah. That would be cool.” He said after a few minutes. I smiled tentatively at him and he returned my smile with one of his own.

  After following him around the back of the store for another fifteen minutes, engaging in casual chit chat, I finally got up the nerve to ask him the question I really wanted answered. “So when do you get off work? Do you want to go grab a cup of coffee or something?” I braced myself for his rejection. I was being really ballsy today.

  Clayton looked up at the clock on the wall. “Actually I'm not technically working today. I just came in to help Tilly with stocking the shelves.” Clay indicated the twenty something girl who manned the cash register. The girl looked up when she heard her name. She was pretty, in that hippie sort of way, with long red hair and a colorful gypsy skirt.

  I tried not to get eaten alive with jealousy when she gave Clay a full toothed smile that clearly said she liked him saying her name. “Tilly, I'm gonna take off now. You cool?” He asked, walking behind her to grab his jacket. Tilly flicked her hair over her shoulder and straightened her loose blouse that was covered in tiny bells. “Sure, Clay. You going to be in tomorrow?” She asked with barely concealed hope in her voice. Clayton bestowed a beautiful smile on her and the jealousy raged wildly in my stomach. I wanted that smile directed at me, damn it!

  “Nope, I'm off until Tuesday.” Tilly's smile fell. “Oh, well I guess I'll see you next week.” She said with disappointment. She finally looked at me and I could see jealousy flash in her eyes when she realized Clayton was leaving with me. Take that bitch! I thought unkindly. Wow, where did this harpy come from? I was becoming a jealous shrew and he wasn't even my boyfriend.

  Clay gave Tilly a final wave and ushered me through the door of the shop. Once we were outside, I took off my fleece and tied it around my waist. The sun had come out and it had warmed up since I had been inside. We stood on the sidewalk looking at each other. “So, coffee?” Clay asked. I nodded. “Yeah, let's do that. There's a great place down the street. They have the best biscotti.” I suggested. Clay rubbed his stomach. “Mmmm. Biscotti. My favorite.” He licked his lips and I suppressed a groan. This guy was going to kill me.

  As we walked down the sidewalk, not saying much, my heart beat a mile a minute and my palms were sweaty. I discretely wiped them on my blue jeans. Clayton made me feel nervous and
giddy all at once. I liked it.

  When we got to the coffee shop we both headed for the back. It was dimly lit with an overstuffed couch, and it felt cozy and intimate. “What would you like?” I asked him. Clay shook his head. “No way, I'll get this. You just grab us a seat.” I thrilled at his words. He was buying me coffee! It almost felt like a date.

  I was proud of how steady my voice was when I gave him my usual order of a grande mocha latte with extra whipped cream and a slice of vanilla biscotti. I watched Clay walk to the counter and couldn't take my eyes away from his massive shoulders. He really was a big guy. He could easily have been mistaken for a football player or something. I also noticed the way others watched him, as though they were just as aware of how special he was. His shoulders were less slouched today and he was carrying himself with a bit more confidence than I saw at school.

  He returned a short time later with my order. “I see you took my word on the biscotti.” I said, indicating his plate with three pieces. Clay smiled shyly. “Yeah, I'm a little hungry.” He sat beside me on the couch and carefully sipped his own drink. I picked up my mocha and took a drink, careful to make sure my lips were free of whipped cream when I was done.

  Our silence was becoming more companionable than before. There was still that little bit of awkwardness laced through it, but it was less noticeable. “So what do you think of Jackson so far? Does it live up to all of your high school fantasies?” I asked as I swirled my biscotti into my coffee.

  Clay gave an adorable snort and put down his mug, reaching for his own biscotti. “I'm still waiting for the flash mobs, but other than that it has been just fine.” He replied. I sipped my coffee again, taking time to watch him hold his food with long, careful fingers.

  “Fine? That's it? No stronger adjectives to use?” I asked. Clay met my eyes and I was once again taken aback by how dark they were. So brown they were almost black. He shrugged. “All schools are really the same. This one is no better or worse than the others I've been to.”

  His answers always gave just enough information to tantalize, yet never actually revealed anything. I was a little hesitant to broach any subject that he deemed too personal after being abruptly shut down before. But I had told him I wanted to be his friend. He came here with me, right? So that showed he wanted to be my friend too, I thought. And friends got to know each other. That was the whole point of friendship. So, without giving myself time to ruminate more, I plunged right in.

  “So you live with your Aunt Ruby. Do you um...like living with her? What's she like?” I waited for his anger and was relieved when none came. “You just don't give up do you? We can't just sit here and talk about the weather?” He asked lightly. I shook my head. “Nope, I want to know about you. That's what friends do.” “And we're friends?” He asked me. His eyes seemed to be asking something else, but I didn't know what. So I nodded. “I'd like to be anyway.” I said. Clay smiled. “Friends then.” I smiled back. “So your aunt?” I prompted.

  “Yes, my aunt. Well Ruby is pretty awesome. She's my mom's older sister and they don't exactly get along. Life style differences and all that. Mom doesn't approve of Ruby's partner, Lisa.” “Ahh.” I said knowingly. Clay dunked his biscotti in the hot drink and nibbled. “But Ruby has always been there for me. She's always helped out when I needed her. So I'm thankful she let me come stay with her and Lisa. It was a life saver really.” The way he spoke about his aunt made it clear how much he loved her. My heart clenched at the raw vulnerability I heard.

  “She sounds like an amazing person.” I told him quietly, not wanting to mess with the mood of intimacy that had wound around us. Clay shook himself slightly, as if realizing how much he was actually revealing. “Yeah, she's pretty fantastic.” He said wistfully. “And Lisa is a hoot. She's this hardcore biker chick and she could definitely kick my ass if I got out of line.” He laughed. I laughed with him, picturing his aunt's girlfriend, the biker lady.

  We finished our coffees and took the empty mugs up to the counter. We left the shop and stood on the sidewalk, neither wanting to go our separate ways. “So.” I remarked at the same moment that he said, “Well.” We laughed awkwardly. “Thanks for the coffee.” I said, putting my hands in my jeans pockets. “Sure, anytime. I enjoyed myself. I'd like to do this again sometime.” He admitted, looking at me through his thick lashes.

  I relished his words, feeling happy that he liked spending time with me. “Yeah, me too.” I told him. We walked back to Ruby's Bookshelf and I noticed his car was parked next to mine. How did I not notice it there when I pulled in? “So, I'll see you on Monday?” His words came out as a question. “Definitely.” I answered as I got in my car. He rested his hands on the door and leaned into my open window and for a moment I imagined his beautiful lips on mine. “Bye, Maggie.” He said softly before backing away. I put my car in reverse and backed out of the parking lot.

  This time it was me looking in my rear view mirror. And I delighted in seeing him standing there watching me leave.

  Chapter Four

  “Damn it!” I grumbled as I realized I had left my gym bag in my locker. It was after school and I was on my way to cross country practice. This was my third year on the team and I was proud of the fact that I was in a prime position to lead us to state this year. Coach Kline was convinced that I would break some records during the season.

  Yeah, I was pretty good. And modest too.

  And running really, really late. Coach Kline would make me run extra time if I didn't pull my finger out. I jogged back down the hallway toward my locker and collided with someone coming in the opposite direction.

  I reached out to grab a hold of the other person's arms to steady myself.

  “I'm so sorry.” I breathed out, feeling embarrassed.

  My head shot up at the throaty laugh. Clay's eyes twinkled at me as he held onto my wrist. “We've got to stop meeting like this.” He said with amusement. I swallowed hard and felt my heart thud against my chest.

  I had looked for him at school today. It had only been two days since our impromptu coffee date on Saturday but I strangely missed him. I mean, I didn't even know the guy, but I wanted to be around him way more than was normal.

  But he had been elusive. He didn't come into the cafeteria and I never saw him in the hallway. I even made a point to wait outside of the creative writing class I knew he had with Rachel, but he somehow snuck out without me seeing him. Okay, I admit, I was becoming a bit obsessed.

  So seeing him here after searching for him for the last eight hours was a bit of a shock.

  “I think we need to start wearing neon safety vests or something.” I joked, righting myself on my feet. I realized we still held each others' arms. I felt all tingly when I realized how close we were. I unceremoniously dropped my hands to my sides, feeling awkward.

  Clay released me from his hold and hefted his book bag up on his shoulder. “Probably not a bad idea, you're kind of lethal. It would give me a bit of warning the next time you come careening at me.” His smile made me tremble. It was crazy, this effect he had on me.

  We stood in silence for a moment. I was suddenly tongue tied, which was definitely not my norm. “You heading home?” I asked him lamely. It was 3:30, of course he was leaving. What a dumb question. If I could have smacked my forehead, I would have.

  “Uh, well, I was thinking of taking a drive, do a bit of exploring. I still don't know my way around very well.” He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Wanna come with me? I could use a local's expertise.”

  Oh shit. Clay and me in a car together. Alone. That sounded like heaven. Or the source of some very serious anxiety. I opened my mouth, not sure what to say. I looked at the clock. I was already late for cross country.

  I looked at Clay again as he waited expectantly for an answer. “Come on, Maggie. Please. Take pity on the new kid.” He teased. Without waiting for me to say anything, he took my book bag from my shoulder. “Come on.” He cocked his head in the direction of the door.

/>   Glancing at the clock again, I shrugged. Screw it. Missing one practice wouldn't kill me.

  “Sure, why not. Can't have you wandering around lost in the middle of nowhere. The natives could eat you.” Clay laughed. I followed him out of the school, trying not to feel guilty for blowing off practice. But as I watched his fantastic ass in his dark jeans, I forgot about guilt and was overcome by unbridled hormones.

  Clay put his hand on the small of my back and steered me toward his car. I tried not to sigh at his touch. His fingers felt warm through my shirt and my mind drifted to some very dirty thoughts of his fingers touching me in other places. Wow, I was turning into a tart.

  He clicked open the locks and opened my door for me. I looked up at him and beamed a simpering smile. “Such a gentleman.” I batted my eyelashes. Clay laughed again and shook his head after I got inside. “Well, I try. No sense in revealing my evil intentions right way.” His eyes smoldered as he looked at me and I tried not to gulp.

  Clay closed the door behind me and quickly got into the driver's seat. He started up the BMW and I delighted in the smooth purr of the engine. “This is some car. I'll try not to hate you the next time I try to get my junk pile to start.”

  Clay smiled tightly but didn't respond. For some reason, his car was a touchy subject. He pulled out of the car lot and onto the main road. “Do you mind?” I asked, indicating the radio. “Go ahead. There are some CDs in the glove compartment there.”

  I pulled out a handful of CDs and was surprised to see several of my favorites. “You like Placebo?” I ask, holding up “Sleeping With Ghosts.” “Hell yeah. I saw them live in Miami a few years ago. They're amazing.” “Lucky.” I grumbled with good- natured jealousy. I popped open the CD cover and put the disc into the player.