by Hart, Rebel
“The least you owe me is that.”
I sighed as I stepped out onto the porch. Mostly because I knew she was right. Out of all this insanity and all she’d done for me, the least I owed her was an explanation. But would she accept it? Would she accept my words and leave with a lighter heart? I wasn't sure if she would.
I wasn’t sure if I would.
I closed the door behind me and ushered her over to the rocking chairs. Her disheveled hair got tossed around in the wind as it whipped around the house. A smell crept underneath my nose, forcing it to curl up. And as I sat down next to Rae, the smell grew.
What is that smell, anyway?
“You look good, considering.”
I focused on her. “You—you do, too.”
She snickered. “You’re a terrible liar. But thanks anyway.”
“I’m not lying.”
And when she shot me a look, I kept my mouth shut.
“Moving, Clint? Really?”
I shrugged. “I’m just as surprised as you were.”
She paused. “Wait, you didn’t know?”
“Not even Cecilia knew. We woke up this morning and the sign was out there. She’s freaking out so badly that I didn’t have the heart to leave her for school today.”
“Have you heard from your father at all since…?”
I shook my head slowly. “No. We’re not really sure he’s the one who even came by to do it. She’s been calling around all morning, trying to figure out where the hell he is.”
“Has she tried the hospital?”
“I think she’s doing that now.”
“So, for all you know—”
“Dad’s contacted a realtor to take over the sale of the house.”
I leaned back into the rocking chair and closed my eyes. The wind felt nice. The harshness of the sun seemed to have finally abated. If the wind blew just right, I could smell the sea, its saltiness wafting in from a coastline I hadn’t visited in months.
But, other times…
Is it Rae that smells like that?
“How are you doing?” I asked.
She scoffed. “Some question for you to ask.”
“I’m serious.”
I opened my eyes and looked over at her.
“How are you doing, Rae?”
She shrugged. “As good as I can be.”
“Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not sure. All right?”
The harshness of her words wasn’t like her. And I wondered who else had taken the brunt of her anger when it should’ve been me.
“Sorry. Sorry, Clint.”
I shook my head. “No need to be sorry.”
“So what are you guys going to do? I’m sure your father can’t just sell the house like that.”
I shrugged. “Honestly? It won’t shock me if he tries anyway. I think this is payback.”
“Payback for a fight he started?”
“How did you know he started it?”
“Your father is always the one to start shit.”
I snickered. “True.”
“Would he really do that to you guys? Just sell the house and leave you homeless or something?”
I shrugged. “I mean, I don't know. Dad’s well… not a good guy. And neither one of us have heard from him since the other night. Since the paramedics took him to the hospital. Cecilia hasn’t been to visit him. No one’s called us to update his condition. I think he’s on a warpath now. And it’s a matter of riding it out.”
“How do you ride something like this out, though?”
“I don’t know. But I guess we’ll figure it out.”
“Do you have a plan for if he does sell the house?”
I sighed. “You mean ‘when’? Because I’m betting money on the fact that he’ll go through with it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever word you want to use, Clint. Just answer my question.”
“Sorry. Uh, I’m trying to come up with some plans. Poking around at my trust fund. Trying to get money deposited into my account. Things like that.”
“What about selling some of the stuff in the house?”
“I don't know what the legal ramifications would be from something like that. But it’s crossed my mind.”
“Well, you might not be able to sell stuff he’s purchased and can prove he purchased. But you and Cecilia can sell things he’s given to you or gifted to you. Because in the eyes of the law, those things are technically your possessions.”
I paused. “How do you know that?”
She shrugged. “You’re not the only one who’s contemplated running away more than once.”
“Rae, I’m so sor—”
She held up her hand. “Selling things like silverware and paintings might not be a good idea. But the furniture in your room? Your clothes? Jewelry or wallets or watches? Or any of Cecilia’s clothes? You can sell those things and be just fine. Just in case you need that information.”
I nodded slowly. “I appreciate it.”
“Also, your father’s a fucking jerk-off.”
Like father like son, I guess. “Yep. He really is.”
“Are you coming back to school?”
“I honestly don’t know. Right now, I can’t leave Cecilia. Not alone with my father, anyway. And something tells me he’s waiting for that moment.”
“Waiting for you to leave your stepmother here alone.”
“Yeah. I mean, I don’t know. It sounds paranoid. But it just doesn’t feel right.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Then you do what’s best for your family and I’ll talk to your teachers.”
“Rae, you don’t have t—”
She held up her hand again. “Will you shut up and just let people help? You don’t have to be fucking me in order for me to want to help.”
Her statement tore my heart out. “Thank you, Rae.”
“No problem.”
But the more we talked, the icier her voice became. Her face etched itself into stone and her statements grew colder. Which told me we had many, many problems.
Despite her choice of words.
12
Raelynn
Even though he answered my questions, I saw his walls up. His face seemed guarded and his eyes looked dead. He answered me, sure. But he wasn’t opening up to me. I had to pry his answers to my questions out of him. He wasn’t freely talking about anything. My questions were carrying this conversation. And I knew that if I stopped them, he’d stop talking.
Which pissed me off.
I heard my voice growing icier and felt myself becoming distant. I didn’t want my anger to become the focus of this conversation. But I couldn't help it. I was hurt. Angry with his father. Angry with Clint for pushing me away and frustrated with my mother and the bullshit she kept pulling with D.J. I’d lost the only person in my life who understood me. The only person who seemed to get what I was going through. Talking with Michael and Allison didn’t feel the same anymore because they came from great families. Parents that were still married. Two-income households with parents that worked jobs that made them happy. They didn’t understand what I was going through. Clint did, though.
And it pissed me off that he’d taken that away from me.
He kept pushing me away. Pushing my advice away. Trying to get me to stop helping him under the guise that I didn’t have to. I wanted to smack him across his face. Despite how much of a terrible person that made me. I wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him until he got it. Until he understood that breaking up with me was the worst possible thing he could’ve done during something like this.
I didn’t have the energy, though.
I cleared my throat. “I’m serious. I’ll talk to your teacher. I’ll make sure you can still keep up.”
He nodded mindlessly. “Thanks.”
“And as far as your possessions go, I’m sure there are things you’d love to get rid of. Use that to your advantage.”
“I will.”
“Call the
lawyer you spoke to as well. I’m sure he’d have some great advice on how to proceed next. Or even if what your father’s doing is legal.”
“I’m sure.”
I sighed. “And if he doesn’t, I’m sure he can point you in the right direction.”
He blinked. “Yeah.”
“Clint?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you going to even look at me?”
He slowly panned his gaze over to mine, and I found his nose wrinkled. Like something up above us stunk. There was this look of disgust on his face that made my heart sink. He didn’t even want me there. He didn’t want me near him. Talking to him. Interacting with him. It was as if our relationship had reverted back to its normal ground. Square one, with him being an absolute asshat and me getting stuck in his crosshairs.
Still, I pressed on.
“What your father’s doing is wrong. What he’s doing to you and your stepmom is downright despicable. Fight him. Fight him on it. And I’ll be here if you need anything.”
His eyes met mine. “Thanks, Rae. really. I’ll take your advice into account. But Cecilia and I got this. We can handle it.”
His words burned. I felt the crack of the imaginary slap across my cheek. He stood from his chair and my eyes followed him, watching as he rolled his shoulders back. I saw the last of his walls drop down. Like iron bars trapping him into his own little corner. His arms extended above his head and I hated myself for how my eyes lingered. The skin of his lower back came into view. Those cute little dimples that sat just above his buttbone greeted me. Called to my fingertips. I closed my eyes and shook the thoughts away. Clint wasn’t mine anymore. I had no right to see him that way.
But I deserved an answer to the question running around in my head.
“Clint, do you really want things between us t—”
“Clinton? I need you. It’s imperative.”
Cecilia’s voice interjected into my question and Clint whipped around. I stood up, facing his stepmother as she covered herself up. She held her silken robe closed, her hair a disheveled mess. She looked terrible, for lack of a better word. Like she hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep in weeks.
Clint strode to her. “What's wrong?”
But her eyes fell to me. “I need to borrow him for a second. I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “No, no. It’s fine. You seem flustered. I hope everything’s okay.”
The two of them looked at one another before Clint nodded for her to go back inside. I hated being on the outside like this. I hated no longer being a part of their lives. I mean, I’d always felt like an outsider. But I never thought I’d feel that way with Clint again. Truth be told, it hurt worse than anything else. Being privy to Clint’s life and bonding with Cecilia only to see them completely shut me out felt like hell on earth. Like I’d ascended into Dante’s Inferno and was living it for myself.
I snickered. “Yeah. I’ll just—I’ll head out.”
Clint reached for me. “It’s nothing personal. We’re just—”
I waved my hand in the air. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”
I scooped up my things and hopped over the railing of his porch. I fell to the ground and skinned my knees, but I didn’t give a shit. I heard Clint rushing for me, but I held out my hand. Two could play his game. If he wanted to shut me out, then I’d shut him out.
No holds barred.
I glared at him before I walked across his lawn. With dirty knees and a hole where my heart used to be, I made my way down the road, slowly creeping toward the school. I knew something had flustered Cecilia. I knew something serious had gone down. But the way they treated me was unacceptable. Like I hadn’t saved Clint’s life, helped him keep his grades afloat in the hospital, and helped him transition back into school. Like none of that shit had occurred. At all.
Like it had all been erased from time.
You’re being selfish, Rae.
“I know I’m being selfish,” I murmured.
They’re about to lose their house.
“Yeah, well. When do I get to be an important part of the equation?”
You are important.
“To who? Not Clint. Not my mother. Not Michael and Allison.”
They’re your best friends.
“Yeah, but I’m not their number one anymore. I’m no one’s number one.”
I felt like I’d blown a gasket in my brain, arguing with myself. But who else was I going to talk to? Michael and Allison were sucking face every chance they got. I couldn't have ten uninterrupted minutes with Clint. Cecilia wasn’t someone I could talk to. And my mother had lost her damn mind with D.J. coming into our home and trying to run it as he saw fit. I had no one. Nothing. No one to turn to. No one who understood me. No one who loved me enough to put me first for once.
I just want to be important to one person. Just one. Anyone.
Fucking hell, I’d take the stray cat in the neighborhood at this point.
I walked aimlessly until I found myself staring at the front doors of the school. I walked inside and looked at the clock before heaving a heavy sigh. I felt like that’s all I did now. Sighed, cried, and turned in homework. I’d missed lunch. History only had about thirty more minutes left. If I walked in now, the teacher would berate me for sure. But if we’d had a pop quiz or something in class, she’d still let me take it.
So I headed into history class.
I walked inside and saw Allison turn around. Her eyes widened as I came into view, closing the door behind me. Our teacher leveled me with a stare. Students snickered at me from all angles. And as I made my way to my seat, the teacher tsked me.
“Not the time to start slipping, Miss Cleaver.”
I nodded. “It won’t happen again.”
“It better not.”
There had been no pop quiz. But I had just enough time in class to read through the next chapter. Doing homework while not paying attention to the lecture. That had become my signature move here recently. The bell tolled for classes to switch, but the teacher asked me to stay behind.
I couldn't stay long, though. Otherwise, I’d be late for my last class of the day.
“And where were you, Miss Cleaver?”
I packed up my things. “I had to go see someone.”
“Is this someone your boyfriend?”
I winced. “Not technically anymore, no.”
“Then why did you have to go see this someone?”
I stood. “Because he’s going through a hard time and I wanted to know if I needed to keep bringing him homework or not.”
“It’s not your responsibility to keep up Mr. Clarke’s grades.”
“It is when his father is abusive and preventing him from coming to school.”
My teacher paused. “What did you say?”
I shook my head. “Clint’s going through a very tough time. And I’m sorry I was late for your class. But he’s going through a lot right now, and if he doesn’t have to fail his classes I’m not going to let him fail.”
“Did you say ‘abusive’?”
Shit. “If you want to know, visit him. But I won’t be late for your class again. Even though it means possibly not helping out someone in need.”
Then I turned on my heel and left my teacher in the room.
I sprinted for my last class. I only had three minutes to make it damn near to the other side of the school. The bell rang as I ran up the ramp, signaling that I was late. Fucking hell, late for another class. And because of a teacher chewing me out for shit I didn’t deserve to be chewed out for! My grades wouldn't suffer. They never suffered. I was a straight-A student. Had been since middle school.
I leapt into the classroom just before the teacher closed the door.
“Nice save, Miss Cleaver. Stay after class with me, please.”
I sighed. “Good thing I’m not a bus rider.”
The class gasped and I froze.
“What was that, Raelynn?”
I closed my eyes. �
��I said, ‘Okay. I’ll stay behind.’”
“That’s what I thought you said.”
I swallowed a growl working its way up the back of my throat. It was like a damn catch-22. Late for one class, bitched out by a teacher. Only to be made late for another class so I could get bitched out by another teacher. As I dropped myself into my seat at the back of the class, my eyes found Allison. Michael. The two of them were staring at me as if I’d grown a third head. I nodded at them before pulling out my things, preparing myself to get homework done while my teacher rattled on about bullshit I didn’t care about.
Because I’d gotten a small glimpse at Clint’s world.
Teachers that didn’t care. That didn’t own up to when they made their students late for class. Teachers that didn’t give a damn about someone’s well-being. Or aptitude. Or test scores. This small debacle made me empathize with him more. Because while I’d only gone through it with a couple classes, he’d been going through it for years.
And as I started in on my homework, my mind fell back to Cecilia.
Her, and the emergency that had ripped Clint away from me in the middle of the most important question I needed to ask him.
13
Clinton
I wanted to rush to her when she hopped over the railing. I saw the second she fell over a bit too far that she wouldn't plant herself on her feet. I moved for her, my arms outstretched. All pretenses gone out the window. I wanted to scoop her into my arms and apologize. Take it all back. Tell her I was sorry for my life turning out this way. But when she threw me a look that could’ve killed me where I stood, I stopped in my tracks.
And I watched as she made her way across the lawn.
The anger in her eyes haunted me. It made me worried that I had officially lost her. That I’d never be able to reconcile things once I could dig Cecilia and myself out of this hole. However much I might’ve dreamed about it, I feared the worst. That this was it. That this was the last time I’d ever see Rae, and I was watching her walk away from me.
For good.
I wanted to go after her. No matter how much I wanted to, though, I couldn't. There were so many things going on. I couldn't leave Cecilia like this. Too many things were at stake. Including this fuckery going on with my father. We needed answers, and we needed them quickly. So I kept my eyes on Rae until the horizon swallowed her whole.
