Chapter 27 Clark
As I was heading back to the kitchen to check on the cookies, I walked in to find Kristen and Becca huddled around the cooling rack. Mouths full, cheeks bulging, and not a single treat left in sight.
For a moment, I could only stare in disbelief.
"Are you serious right now?" I demanded, finding my voice. "We were all supposed to share those. What’s wrong with you?"
Kristen froze mid-chew, eyes widening. Then, with an audible gulp, she swallowed. Pasted on a look of wide-eyed innocence.
"Why, whatever do you mean?" She tittered, dabbing daintily at her lips with a napkin. "We were just making sure they were cool enough for the little ones. You know, being responsible and all."
Becca nodded along eagerly, fluttering her lashes. "Wouldn't want anyone getting hurt on our watch. We were just looking out for poor, sweet Elijah."
Before I could get a word out, a gasp sounded from the doorway.
"The cookies!" Elijah cried, face crumpling in dismay. "They're all gone. What happened?"
"Oh, Elijah," Kristen sighed, shaking her head sadly. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. I tried to stop him, really I did, but..."
She trailed off, biting her lip as if hesitant to continue. Elijah just blinked at her, confusion writ large on his face.
"Stop who?" He asked.
"Clark," she said quietly, almost gently. "I'm so sorry, but Clark ate all the cookies. Becca and I caught him stuffing his face red-handed."
I gaped at her, struck absolutely speechless by the bald-faced audacity.
She did not. But one look at Elijah's face, the slow-dawning hurt and betrayal, told me she absolutely did. That she was really going to stand there, bold as brass, and paint me the villain while the cookies sat like lead in her stomach.
"No, Elijah," I croaked, finding my voice. Desperation cracked it straight down the middle, spider-webbing the denial. "I didn't, I swear."
But Elijah was already shaking his head, bottom lip trembling dangerously. Tears gathered on his lashes, clumping them into wet, spiky points.
"But why?" He whispered, so small and bewildered it speared me straight through. "Why would you do that, Clarkie? We were 'posed to share. Daddy Lance said!"
"It was them! They're lying!"
But Kristen just tutted, soft and pitying. Laid a hand on Elijah's quaking shoulder, squeezed in commiseration.
"Lying will only make it worse, Clark,” Kristen said. “Apologize. That's the only way we can move past this, as a family."
I lunged for her with a wordless snarl. But before I could make contact, strong arms locked around my middle. Hauled me bodily back, kicking and flailing like a landed fish.
"Woah there, tiger!" Alex grunted, straining to hold me. "Simmer down, yeah? It's not worth it, trust me."
"Let me go!" I spat, writhing in his grip. Clawed mindlessly at his restraining hands, too far gone to care about the marks I left. "I'm gonna slap her, I swear to god. It's not fair."
My voice cracked on the last word and hot tears spilled down my cheeks unchecked. Through the haze, I could just make out Daddy's face. Heard the low rumble of his voice, urgent and concerned. Felt his fingers brush my cheek, swipe roughly at the wetness there.
"What's going on here?" He demanded, turning the full force of his stare on Kristen and Becca. "What did you say to my boy?"
Kristen blinked up at him, the very picture of shy contrition as she lied through her teeth.
For a moment, Daddy just stared at her. I held my breath, heart in my throat. Surely, he wouldn't believe her. Not over me.
Shame stole the strength from my knees. Alex's grip was the only thing keeping me upright.
This was it. The moment it all fell apart. Daddy would wash his hands of me, storm away in revulsion at my wretched, deceitful nature. And I'd be alone again, the sad little freak who'd dared reach beyond his station, his worth.
Abandoned. Unlovable. Just like I'd always been, always would be. Just like Sterling had always pointed out.
"Clark? Baby bug, no. It's okay, shh, Daddy’s got you sweetheart, just breathe for me."
Daddy's voice, cracking with worry. His arms, solid and strong, scooping me up like I weighed nothing at all.
I fought him mindlessly, too lost in my spiral to make sense of it. He couldn't be here, holding me. Couldn't still care, still call me those gentle names. Not after he'd listened to Kristen’s lies.
"Daddy, I swear, it wasn't me. I'd never do that to Elijah, to any of you. Please, you have to believe me."
"Sweetheart, please. I know those girls are full of it, trying to pin it on you.” He rocked me gently as I shuddered in his arms. "There’s cookie crumbs on their shirts.” He pulled back just far enough to catch my chin, tilt my blotchy face up to his.
Slowly, painfully, the tears began to taper off. Through the thick fog of fatigue, I became dimly aware of other voices. The worried rumble of Lance and Oliver. But loudest of all was Alex, sharp and biting in a way I'd never heard before.
“I swear to god, Kristen, if you don't shut your mouth I will shut it for you.”
I pried my sticky eyes open, squinting against the too-bright glare of the kitchen. Found my best friend hovering like an angry guard dog, squared up in front of Kristen with fire in his eyes.
She quailed visibly at his tone, but jutted her chin in a pathetic show of defiance. "I don't know what you're talking about," she sniffed. "I'm just trying to do the right thing here, unlike some people."
Alex barked a laugh, ugly and incredulous. "Oh, you saintly little martyr, how silly of me. Somebody get this girl a medal."
He took a menacing step forward, looming over her with ill-concealed malice. "Do you have any idea what those bullshit accusations dragged to the surface for him? No, of course you don't, you spoiled little nightmare." He smiled then, sharp enough to cut glass. "I swear on everything I hold dear, if you ever come for my friend like that again, there will be revenge. Got it?"
Kristen cracked. Burst into noisy sobs, quite possibly the most crocodile tears ever wept by human eyes.
"I'm sorry!" She warbled, words barely distinguishable. "I just got so hungry waiting, and they smelled so good."
Elijah, sweet and soft-hearted, pushed past an angry Alex. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out to pat Kristen on the shoulder.
"It's okay," he said in a small voice. "I know you didn't mean to be mean. Sometimes we just make mistakes when our tummies are rumbly."
He turned to glance at Becca, still pale and silent in the corner. "Next time, just ask. I always got snacks in my pack, I'd be happy to share. Long as you say sorry to Clarkie for fibbing."
For a beat, neither girl responded. But Elijah just gazed back, steady and guileless. Let his innate goodness shine out.
I watched with wary eyes as Kristen and Becca mumbled their apologies, faces twisted like they'd just bitten into a lemon. The words were there, but the sincerity was notably lacking.
But Elijah, bless his trusting heart, just beamed. Thanked them for their honesty and hugged them each in turn, blithely ignoring the way they stiffened at the contact.
I had to hand it to the boy. He chose to see the best in people, to extend grace and understanding at every turn.
And sure enough, not an hour later, the other shoe dropped. We were out in the backyard, engaged in a rousing game of tag at the girls' suggestion. A show of goodwill, they said.
I should've known better. But Elijah had turned those big, hopeful eyes on me and Alex, bouncing on his toes with excitement.
So off we went, pelting through the grass and shrieking with laughter. For a while, it was almost fun. But then, as I rounded the corner of the shed, intent on tagging Alex, it happened.
A sudden shock of icy wetness, cascading over my head and down my back. Knocking the breath from my lungs, leaving me gasping and sputtering. I whipped around, only to find Kristen perched smugly on the roof of the shed. A now-empty water bottle dangled from her fingers, her grin sharp and glittering.
"Oops!" She trilled, all wide-eyed faux-innocence. "So clumsy of me. Didn't see you there."
Beside her, Becca tittered meanly. I felt my face heat, humiliation prickling hotly beneath my skin. Of course they'd play nice just long enough to get me alone, to catch me off guard and vulnerable.
Before I could move, Alex was there.
"What," he seethed, precise and cutting, "in the ever-loving heck was that?"
"It was an accident, plain and simple. No need to be so dramatic."
"Accident my ass!" Alex snarled, taking an aggressive step forward. "I saw you, you lying little witch."
For a moment, Kristen just gaped at him. "Geez, try to extend an olive branch, and this is the thanks we get? I so do not need this kind of negativity in my life."
She sniffed disdainfully, flounced off the roof and turned away. But before she could take another step, Alex's hand shot out and closed around her wrist.
"You're not going anywhere until you apologize," he ground out, low and flinty. "To Clark. For being a raging psycho.”
Then, from somewhere behind me, a small voice piped up.
"You say sorry right now, you meanies!"
I whipped around, only to find Elijah glaring up at the girls with all the ferocity his little face could muster. Chin wobbling precariously, hands balled into tiny fists at his sides.
But even as I watched, that spark dimmed. Gave way to confusion and a burgeoning hurt.
"I don't understand," Elijah said plaintively, voice small. "I thought we were all gonna be friends now. Gonna put this whole mess behind us and just play nice. Like Daddy always says we should. Was that all a lie? Were you just pretending the whole time?"
Sweet, sunny Elijah. The idea that someone might feign forgiveness, might wield it as a weapon only to twist the blade at the last second was antithetical to his very nature.
Looking between us, taking in our stony expressions and united front, Kristen finally wavered.
"Fine," she spat, twisting her arm free from Alex's grasp. "Whatever. Sorry, or something. Happy now?"
"It's okay," Elijah said softly, stepping forward to lay a gentle hand on my forearm. "We forgive you." Elijah just smiled. A touch sad, but no less genuine for the melancholy tinge. "I hope maybe someday you can forgive me too. For not seeing how sad and scared you were, underneath all the prickles."
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away. Leaving the rest of us gaping in his wake, struck dumb by the sheer moral fortitude on display. I made to follow him, but Alex caught my eye. Shook his head minutely, something hard and glinting in his gaze.
"Not yet," he murmured, for my ears only. "Let him have his moment. This is important, you know? Him standing up for himself, even in the little ways."
I deferred to Alex's judgment. Settled for watching Elijah's small, retreating figure, fists clenched white-knuckled at my sides.
With a final, poisonous smile at the girls, I turned to leave. Jerked my head for Alex to follow, which he did with palpable relief. We made it halfway across the yard before he cracked. Dissolving into slightly hysterical giggles, high and thready as he clutched at my arm.
"Oh my god," he wheezed, eyes streaming. "Did you see their faces?”
"Hopefully it's enough to buy us some peace and quiet for the rest of the day. I've had just about all I can stomach of those two harpies."
Alex hummed in fervent agreement, linking his arm through mine as we mounted the back steps. As we neared the kitchen, Alex drew up short. He got down on all fours and I followed. A sly, speculative look transformed his face, eyes narrowing.
"Clark," he said slowly, uncharacteristically serious. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
I raised a brow, suddenly wary. "I don't know, Lex. Am I thinking that we should probably let this go, take the high road and all that jazz?"
He scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "No, I was thinking more along the lines of payback."
It was wrong. Petty and juvenile and everything Elijah's shining example had cautioned against. But god, it was tempting. The thought of those two getting even a fraction of their cruelty reflected back at them, of tasting real, tangible consequences for once in their charmed little lives.
"I'm listening," I said simply.
Alex's grin widened, eyes sparkling with wicked delight. He linked his elbow through mine, tugging me as we crawled towards the playroom.
Mind made up, I threw myself into planning with gusto. Joined Alex in his enthusiastic scheming, tossing out ideas and refining details until we had a workable blueprint. Elijah took a bit more convincing, torn between his ironclad moral code and the allure of justice.
"I don't know, guys," he hedged. "Isn't this kind of mean? Stooping to their level and all that? I’ve gone down that path with Kristen before. It always ends with a sore bottom for me."
I could see him wavering. The hurt of Kristen and Becca's betrayal was still fresh. And in the end, his desire to see them face consequences won out over his better angels.
And so, Operation Payback was a go. All that was left was to wait for an opportune moment, when the Daddies were distracted and our targets let their guard down.
Luckily, we didn't have to wait long. The grownups spent most of the evening in the kitchen, preparing a lavish Christmas Eve feast. An endeavor which, judging by the sounds of clattering pans and good-natured bickering, required their full attention.
Even Kristen and Becca were roped into helping, though not without a hefty dose of theatrical sighing and eyerolling. I couldn't imagine they were much use, prancing around in their coordinated aprons with their noses in the air. But their presence was a necessary evil. The perfect alibi, keeping them front and center while the real mischief occurred behind the scenes.
And occur it did. The second the coast was clear, we sprang into action.
"Okay, boys," Alex whispered, huddling us together in a conspiratorial circle. "Here's how it's gonna go down. Clark, you're on stink bomb duty. Slip into their bathroom and plant this little beauty under the sink."
I nodded, palming the device with a grim smile. "Roger that. And the shampoo switcheroo?"
Alex's grin widened, bordering on manic glee. "Leave that to me. I've got a special cocktail all mixed up, just waiting for an unsuspecting victim."
Elijah bit his lip, clearly hesitant to get his hands dirty. "What about me? What's my job in all this?"
Alex clapped him on the shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. "Distraction and diversion. I need you to keep the girls occupied while we work. Get 'em talking about themselves. Shouldn't be too hard, given their egos are visible from space."