Find You in the Dark (24 page)

 
I pushed opened his bedroom door, my eyes adjusting to the darkness.  The only light came from his dim table lamp.  I could make out Clay over at his desk, his back to me. 

 
He had no idea I was standing there.  Not that he could hear anything with the music reverberating around him.  I could see he was hunched over, his head down.  Looking around his room, it was so
Clay. 
Stark, not revealing much about his personality.  Basic gray walls and dark blue comforter on his bed.  Television on an oak dresser.  No photographs or knick knacks that would help someone know the person he was.

 
But there, on the other side of the room, tucked away from everything else, was a little strip of wall above his desk that was literally covered with sheets of paper.  I knew they showed different pictures Clay had drawn.  Some in pencil, others in ink, some in charcoal.  Depictions of animals, or random bridges.  Some were things as small as a tiny flower, others were people he saw in town.  Then there were the dozens he had drawn of me. 

 
I had been embarrassed the first time I had seen a drawing he had done of my profile.  Because there was no way I could ever be as beautiful as the way he had depicted me.  Though, I couldn't help but feel flattered that he saw me that way. 

 
Each of those pictures were done in his passionate yet precise hand.  They seemed to say more about who he was than any poster or piece of furniture ever could have.  It was like he shoved everything that was
him
into that tiny space.  As though he were scared to let too much out. 

 
I walked over to his stereo and turned the volume down.  Clay jumped and quickly rolled down his sleeves.  He looked over his shoulder, a strange look of panic on his face.  “Mags!  What are you doing here?”  He struggled to make his voice even.  I watched as he grabbed a tissue and dabbed at something. I frowned, instantly suspicious.

  “
I just wanted to see you.”  I was very aware of the fact that Clay hadn't made any move toward me, which was unusual.  The first thing he typically did was hurry over to me and kiss me senseless.  I was definitely getting the impression that I had interrupted something I wasn't supposed to see.

  “
You just saw me an hour ago.  You could have just called you know.”  He said with a pseudo nonchalance.  His following laugh was entirely too fake.  “Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't aware that I needed to make an appointment to see you.”  I said blandly, moving toward him.  Clay quickly got to his feet, closing the lid to a small wooden box on.  “Am I interrupting?”  I asked him, trying to look around him at his desk. 

 
Clay took hold of my wrist and pulled me over to the bed.  “Of course not. I was just listening to music.”  He seemed nervous, which made my suspicions go through the roof.   He clumsily buttoned the sleeves of his cotton shirt, something he never did. 

 
What was he hiding?

  “
Do you want me to go?” I asked him, not liking his attitude.  Clay's expression changed and he looked at me with tenderness.  “No, don't leave.  I always want to see you.”  He said softly, reaching over and putting his arms around me. 

 
I let him pull me to his chest as he nuzzled my hair.  “You smell so good.  Like apple pie.”  He buried his nose in the tender spot behind my ear, kissing the skin gently.  My body responded instantly like it always did, but I resisted the urge to get lost in him. 

  “
Yeah, it's my shampoo.  So, you were just listening to music?”  I let my question hang in the air.  I pulled away from him and walked over to his desk, where he had been sitting.  I tried to be subtle as I scanned the items lying there.  All I could see were his school books and bits of paper.  And that small wooden box.  I put my hand on the lid and Clay was suddenly at my side. 

 
He put his hand on mine, putting an end to my snooping.  He pulled my hands to his chest and laid them there.  I could feel the beat of his heart beneath my palm.  A tattoo on my skin.  “Yeah, I was taking a break from my Calculus homework.  It's been doing my head in.”  He told me, pulling my chin with his fingers.  I held back, not letting him kiss me.  He would not distract me with that tantalizing mouth of his.

  “
Well, you're acting kind of weird.  Like you're hiding something.”  I said, getting to the point.  I wasn't one to beat around the bush.  I could feel him stiffen slightly and then forcibly relax himself.  He pulled my hand toward his bed and he sat down.  Scooting himself so he was leaning against his pillows.  He crooked his finger at me and gave me his best come hither smile. 

  “
Come lay with me, Maggie.”  He purred.  Oh, he was playing dirty. Going all sex god on me so I'd stop asking questions.  Well, he wasn't fooling me for a minute.  I rolled my eyes, but moved to lie beside him anyway.  I was so weak.

  “
Don't think I can't see right through your tactics, Mr. Reed.”  I said as he kissed the top of my head.  “I'm pretty transparent, huh?  Excuse me if I can't think of anything else but getting that shirt back off of you.”  He said huskily as he played with the hem.  I smacked at his hands.  “Stop it.”  I giggled as his fingers inched under my shirt. 

 
I elbowed him in the arm playfully and froze when I saw him wince.  He quickly blanked his expression, but I saw it.  “You okay?” I asked, sitting up.  Looking at him closely I could see that he was a little paler than usual and there was a definite strain to his eyes.  “I'm fine.”  He said breezily, reaching for me again. 

 
It was then that I noticed a red spot on the underside of his sleeve.  “What's that?”  I asked, touching it with my fingertip.  It was wet.  Clay looked at it and pulled his arm away. 

  “
Oh, it's nothing.  Maybe some paint or something.”  He moved away to the side of the bed.  Paint?  I didn't think so.  “That doesn't look like paint to me.”  I stated, trying to pull his arm back so I could get a look.  Clay frowned and jerked his arm away again, roughly this time.  “What is this?  The Spanish Inquisition?  I said I was fine.  You know, I've got a lot of homework, so why don't I just see you in the morning.”  He sat down at his desk and pulled out his Calculus book, effectively shutting down our conversation.

 
I pulled the book away from him and he looked up at me, anger apparent on his face.  “What the hell?  I've got shit to do, so why don't you just head home.”  I shook my head.  He wouldn't chase me off with nastiness.  “No can do, Clay.  You're going to tell me what you're hiding and you're going to do it now.”  My tone was hard and I could see it was only making Clay angrier. 

  “
I'm not hiding anything.  Don't be ridiculous.”  He said flippantly trying to grab his book back.  I saw a small movement in the dim light.  Looking closer, I could see drops of blood drip down his right hand. 

 
I gasped.  “You're freaking bleeding!  Let me look!”  Before he could react, I swung his desk lamp over so I could see and yanked up his shirt sleeve.  I was horrified to see a steady stream of blood coming down his arm. 

  “
It's nothing, Maggie.”  He tried to pull the sleeve back down and I recognized the panic in his voice.  “That is a lot of blood, Clay.  I need to see it.  You may have to go to the hospital or something.”  I undid the buttons on his shirt and pulled it off of him, manhandling him in the process. 

 
I couldn't control my look of horror as I got sight of the very deep and precise cuts along his right upper arm.  “Oh my God.”  I breathed, grabbing several tissues and covering the wounds.  I went immediately into crisis mode, not pausing to think.  I went down the hallway to the bathroom, grabbing some gauze, rubbing alcohol and bandages, and went back to Clay's room. 

 
He hadn't moved, as though rooted to the spot.  The blood was coming thick now.  “Shit, Clay, this looks bad.  You might need stitches.  I should go get Ruby.”  I started to head to the door.  “No, Maggie.  Don't get her, please.” He begged me.  I turned back to him.  “You should see a doctor.  Seriously.”  Clay picked up the gauze and pressed it to the cuts.  Then using the bandages, he covered it and held them in place. 

  “
This will be fine.  The blood will stop eventually.”  He said, as though from experience.  I felt sick to my stomach.  “You did this to yourself didn't you?”  Clay didn't say anything; he wouldn't look at me.  I raised my voice.  “Answer me, damn it!  You did this!”  Clay flinched.  “Keep it down would you.”  He moved behind me and closed the door. 

  “
What did you use, Clay?”  My voice had gone cold.  Clay sighed with resignation.  He lifted the lid of the wooden box on his desk and pulled out a razor blade.  I could see his blood on the blade.  I shivered with revulsion.  I snatched the blade from him, opened the window and threw it out.  I was so mad and upset and scared.  How could he do this to himself?

 
Clay seemed remarkably calm, given that I was the one about to lose it.  I stalked back over to him, putting my fingers to the skin of his chest.  He hissed a quick breath as I touched the rigid scars crisscrossing his skin.  The destruction he caused on himself was painful to look at. 

  “
Why would you do this? I thought you were taking your meds.”  I whispered, backing away from him.  Clay closed his eyes.  “I still hurt, Mags.  All the time.  Even with the medication.  It's not a magic fix you know.”  He told me sharply, opening his eyes.  “This is scary, Clay.  I don't know what to do here.”  I was at a complete loss and more than a little hurt; which was really selfish. 

 
I thought he was happy, that
I
made him happy.  But it was obvious that I wasn't enough to help him.  Not by a long shot.  And that broke my heart.

  “
You need help.”  I said, feeling extremely tired.  Clay's answering laugh was a bitter one.  “Been there, done that, got the certificate of completion.”  Clay roughly put his shirt back on.  His fingers shook as he did up the buttons.

  “
Well, you need to do something.  Do Ruby and Lisa know you're doing this again?”  I asked him.  Clay's face grew dark.  “No, and don't you dare tell them.” The threat clear in his voice.  I drew myself up straight.  “Don't you take that tone with me, Clay. I'm just worried about you.  Maybe they need to know.”  Clay just shook his head.  “There's nothing they can do.”  He muttered with that aching sadness.

 
He sounded so helpless.  So utterly destroyed.  How did I possibly think I could help him?  That I could do this on my own?  His issues, what he needed, was so beyond what I was capable of providing.  “I can't do this by myself.  I don't know what to do, or what to say.  I can't help you if you don't want to help yourself.”  I said matter of factly. 

 
Clay looked at me for a second, then crossed the room toward me.  “That's where you're wrong.  You save me every single day.  You are the one thing that makes me happy.  You are the only thing I need.”  His words were so passionate and I felt myself being pulled along by his conviction.  “But, you're still cutting.” I argued, fighting the Clay haze that threatened to overshadow my better judgment. 

  “
That was a one- time thing.  I swear it. I was just upset about what happened with your parents.  About not being the guy you need me to be.  I just got depressed.  But now that you're here, I'll be fine. 
We're
fine.  I promise.”  There were those words again.  I promise. 

 
I had just said those same words to my mom as I assured her I would be
fine
.  That Clay and I were
fine
.  What a freaking lie. 

 
And here was Clay saying the exact same thing.  Was he lying too?  What was the use of those words when they were so often untrue?

 
I knew I shouldn't let this go.  Clay was sick.  He needed to see someone.  Ruby needed to know what he was going through.  But I stupidly let him pull me into his arms, his breath teasing my lips as he leaned into me.  I loved him so much.  But was it enough?

  “
I love you, Maggie.  You're all that I need.”  He murmured as his mouth captured mine and I forgot everything else.  Stupid, stupid girl.

                                               
Chapter Fourteen

 
The week and a half leading up to Thanksgiving break found me stuck in a weird balancing act.  I continued spending every free moment with Clay, which then forced me to lie repeatedly to my parents about what I was doing and who I was doing it with.  They continued to make their dislike of Clay very clear and nothing I said seemed to change it.

 
I felt like I was living my life in the shadow of everyone's disapproval.  My parents', Rachel's and Daniel's.   I saw it when they looked at me.  Heard it between the lines of their words.  They could mask it in concern all they wanted, but it didn't change the fact that they wanted me to forget about Clay and our relationship.  To find my way back to the person I was before. 

 
Well, that wasn't going to happen.  Because I was different now and I didn't want to be the girl I was before Clay.  She was boring.  Disinterested in life.  That girl had never known what it was like to love someone more than herself.