Claire's Song by Ashley King Page A

where you ruined my life more than it already was. So, no, I don’t want you. I'll never want you, ever. I was high when we hooked up before. Now leave me alone. Or else," my voice is sinister, but it does the trick. Lindy looks like she's about to cry, her eyes all wide and glassy as she turns on her heel and runs off down the hall. I rub my hands over my face, not believing what just happened. She has to be on drugs. Or she really is just nuts. Either way, I go to class, and decide that I'll be on time to every class from now on.
                If Lindy does still have a crush on me, then she’ll be even crazier than usual to Claire and will probably start spreading more lies about me just to keep her away. Wait, what am I even talking about? Claire and I, we're not together or anything. I don't even know if she's able to think of me like that. Either way, I've got to stop thinking about Claire and how cute she is when she looks at me through those thick black lashes of hers.
                So I shrug in response because on the inside I’m doing this really pansy back and forth thing. I hope she can’t tell.
                “Well, for the record, I don’t believe any of the rumors and I think you’re one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met,” Claire gives me this genuine smile, the one that tips both sides of her lips up and dimples into her cheeks. She’s looking at me like I’m a good guy, like I’m not psycho or sick. I can’t take it because I’m not a good guy.
                “Look, I gotta go,” I get up so quickly that I slam the computer chair back into the desk, intensifying the awkward tension between us, making it a tangible, strange creature.
                Claire hops up from the bed and blocks the doorway with her petite frame. “No way. You can’t just run away whenever someone is nice to you, Ryder. I want…I want to be your friend,” she stammers. She looks so hopeful and the way her beautiful face is turned up to meet mine tears me into pieces. If I move half an inch, I could kiss her if I wanted to. And I wanted to. The feeling is driving me insane, weaving itself through my mind and down into my heart. A panic attack is right on its heels, the squeezing in my chest, my airways tightening. I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to steady my breathing.
                “Look, Claire. I really gotta go. I’ll do the bottom half of the assignment and bring it to school on Monday, all right? You don’t understand, but I really gotta go.”
                She must see the desperation in my eyes, because she backs away, completely defeated, shoulders hunched and it makes me want to hug her. The urge nearly overwhelms me because I want nothing more than to take her in my arms and hug her and tell her I’m sorry that I’m a jerk, but that’s all I’ll ever be: a jerk.
                I don’t get the chance because I leave her house and hop in my car. I don’t even know if I'll make it back to the trailer, the urge to cut is gnawing angrily inside my brain. My mind is clouded and all I can think about is dulling the pain. I have a razor in my glove box that I keep for days like this and I know my wrists have healed from the last time, so what’s stopping me? Claire’s pretty green eyes looking at me with desperation stops me momentarily, but then I speed out of her driveway, determined to cut away every memory of her in my brain, to get back to who I really am, not who she makes me want to be.
     
     

CHAPTER SEVEN
    CLAIRE
    There's no way for me to go after him and the worst case of déjà vu gnaws at me, eating away at the carefully glued pieces I have managed to salvage since Jamie’s death. I have no idea where Ryder lives and unease begins to settle deep in my bones. Jamie keeps flashing in and out of my memory with that smile, those sad eyes, and the thought of him dying, alone. The guilt continues to mount