26
CLARITY
Present Day
A scream startles me awake.
Shortly after, a weight dips the bed down harshly.
"Merry Christmassss! Clarity, wake your ass up, I have a present for you!"
Parting my eyes, I blink rapidly to see Natalie, her curls blown out and a square-wrapped box in her hand—a bow on top.
Lifting myself and rubbing my eyes, I look at the alarm clock—6:21 a.m. I came back in from my old home at around three.
"I've had three hours of sleep, Nat. Couldn't you wake me up a little later?" my voice is high and tired.
"Sorry, I didn't realize you came in so late. Where were you anyway?"
Sighing, I pull back the covers, get out of bed, and walk over to the small desk, grabbing a hair tie. "I went to visit my mom's house. I brought back some clothes, too." I point to the suitcase in the corner of the room.
"Oh, alright. Well, here," she says. I turn around, my hair in a high ponytail, and sit beside her on the bed.
The box she holds isn't big, but it isn't small either. I grab it, shaking it. She laughs, motioning with her hands for me to open it.
I pull it open, peeling off the wrapping paper and revealing a brown cardboard box.I take it out, drop the box, and hold it high.
A UCLA sweater.
A small smile grows on my face. "Thank you, Natalie. I love it..."
She claps quickly, grinning. "I got it a day after your acceptance. I'm glad you like it."
Lowering my hands to my lap, I twist my lips. "It's a great gift, but I still don't know if I'm even going. With Olias MIA, I can't just leave. What if he needs my help?"
She stood up from the bed, dressed for her family event out of the city, I heard her say yesterday. I told her I didn't want to go. Pretending to be social and happy when I’m feeling the complete opposite sounds draining.
She sighs. "I know it's shitty, but maybe the dude is ghosting you?"
Her words sting in my heart. It's always been possible, but hearing it aloud makes it real.
"He's not," I whisper, sliding the sweater on the bed and rising. I’m unsure if I’m saying that because I know it or trying to convince myself of it. Walking to the drawer filled with the few clothes I got from my old home, I take a shirt and jeans. "I'm going to shower. Thank you for the gift."
He's not ghosting me. He wouldn't do that. Not my sunshine.
There has to be something wrong, and I'm going to pick my moping butt up and find out what. Today .
"Clarity, I didn't mean that to sound... as bad as it did,” Natalie says hesitantly.
I turn, shaking my head. "You're fine."
It's whatever. It's a bit insensitive, but whatever.
Walking to the bathroom and starting the shower, I look for the coconut shampoo where it usually is. Finding the empty bottle, I call out Natalie's name.
"Natalie! Do you have extra shampoo? The coconut one... specifically?"
From somewhere in the living room, her voice travels through the house. "Yeah! Check in my closet."
A sliver of happiness cracks through me. Happiness for smelling like a guy. I'm a lost cause.
Walking into her room, which is much larger than the room I'm staying in, I walk to her closet and open it. It's clustered with clothes, but I don't blame her. Closets are just too small for us girls.
Rummaging through the top shelf, attempting to find the extra shampoo storage, my hand hits a box, and it falls on my head.
Crap.
Dozens of pieces of jewelry fall to the floor.
Freaking clumsy self. Of course, I'd do this.
Sighing, I drop to my knees, grab the small box, and begin collecting all the stray necklaces, earrings, and rings.
I wish I had all this jewelry. Why does she keep it hidden in a box up in her closet?
Getting distracted, I cross my legs and inspect all the pretty necklaces, holding them to my neck. Several seconds later, my gaze drags over one specific item.
My brows knit together at the sight of a red ring mixed with the jewelry.
I pick it up and inspect it closely. My heart begins to pound. It looks like the one Olias had worn.
The same vibrant red color and the same width. But why would Natalie have his ring? Maybe it's just a duplicate. What are the odds she has the same exact male ring as Olias?
Getting up, I hear Natalie racing to the room. She stops in front of the door, her eyes wide, curls draped over her shoulders.
Her lips curl between her teeth. "Shit."
"Natalie, where'd you get this ring?" I hold it up, inspecting it in the light. "It looks just like..."
I look up at her, her expression telling me everything I need to know. Holding her hands together, she walks closer. My face drops, and I lower my hand to my side.
"Natalie," I start with a faint smile to hide my rising doubt in my friend. "How and why do you have Olias’ ring ?"
She raises her hand. "He came looking for you a few days ago and—"
My eyes widen. "He what ? Days ago, and you weren't going to tell me?"
Her face drops in pleading. "Clarity, just listen, please; I knew how you'd be if you knew he wasn't actually ghosting you. You'd go back to him, so I told him to leave you be for your own good. He told me to give the ring to you—"
"Let me get this straight," I say as I walk closer to her. "Olias came looking for me days ago, and you told him to leave? Natalie, what the hell were you thinking!" my face burns, and I fight the urge to scream—or cry—or both.
I don't usually curse; I never really have, but right now, I want to throw every curse in the dictionary all her way.
"You have to go to college, Clarity, and you won't go if he's in your life!"
I raise my eyebrows, and my voice rises, "And what gives you the right to make that choice for me? For us !" Tears prick at my eyes. "You don't know me, and you don't understand how much I need him, Natalie," my voice cracks, raising the ring, a sob breaking me. "He gives you this ring, and you don't even attempt to give it to me as he wanted? Th—then suggests that he's ghosting me?"
She huffs. "You don't understand, I was trying to help—"
"No, you don't understand!" I don't even recognize my voice. "You don't understand the hurt, having someone you love leave and to think you're the reason why."
She drops her hands at her hips hard. "Well, maybe the best thing for him to do is leave! Maybe then you'll actually learn how to be independent. I mean, seriously , don't you get tired of clinging onto a guy for the majority of your life—"
Without a thought to it, my hand raises, and I connect my palm with Natalie's cheek, slapping her.
The loud noise cuts her off, and silence follows.
Immediately, I hold my hand, an awful feeling rising in me. I just hit someone? Who even am I?
Natalie turns back, her eyes swelling with tears, "Clarity, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said—"
I shake my head, pushing the stray baby hair behind my ear. A tear slips from my eye as I blink. "I- I’m sorry…I need to go." I whisper.
Quickly, running to the front door where my shoes sit, I slip them on, grab my coat from the hanger, and leave the apartment. After the door closes, I find myself weeping and longing for a hug from Olias.
That wasn't me. That isn't me. I know I did it for him but, Olias wouldn't want me hitting people.
Without a car, it takes nearly thirty minutes to get to Olias' house by bus, especially with the amount of snow on the ground. It'd be like walking through a war zone. So, I wait for the bus, getting on it—the entire ride thinking of seeing Olias and what I will say to him.
Holding onto a pole, I look down at the ring on my middle finger. It's a little big, but it's something that makes me feel close to him.
"Young lady, Merry Christmas." I look up to see an old, very old woman sitting a few seats away.
I smile, sniffling. "Merry Christmas!" I say back cheerily, and oddly enough, that makes me smile—a small one, but a smile.
She grins, animal ears on her gray head of hair. Cute. I wonder if I'll live to see that age.
My hands and face are iced cold. Getting off the bus, snow falling from the sky, excitement creeps its way in me as I get closer to Olias building, entering and walking into the elevator.
I'll be his Christmas present! Our reunion.
Getting off the elevator, I quickly walk to his door, a smile on my face as I stop to knock.
I bite my lip, the sound of footsteps making their way to the door.
Yet, as the door opens my smile grows—
But I look at the woman who opens the door, and my smile drops immediately.
That's not Olias.
"Hello?" the girl says. She is fairly young, fair-skinned, and has pretty curls. She wears a red tank top and sweatpants.
I find it hard to speak, my words lodged in my throat. "Nev—never mind. I think I got the wrong... door," I lie.
I turn around, my face hot with embarrassment and disappointment. I don't even remember when my tears returned, but they have. He's clearly moved on. He's found someone else so quickly. How could he move on within days? What we had really meant so little that he didn't even need time to mourn?
"Hey!" the girl calls out as I begin to walk down the hallway. I turn around, wiping my eyes.
"Yes?"
"Do you happen to be Clarity Red?"
I pause, confused. "Yeah?"
She tells me to wait one minute before she goes back into the apartment, then brings out a bag and a piece of folded paper.
"The previous apartment owner left this for someone named Clarity Red. He paid me like half a thousand to keep this safe for when you come around."
Stepping closer, my mouth parted, and I repeated her words in my head repeatedly.
I look at the gray bag and then at her. "W-what do you mean previous apartment owner? Is Olias not... there? With you?"
She quickly shakes my head, laughing. "Oh no, I have a boyfriend of my own. I just moved into this apartment a few days ago. That guy moved everything out but left this... if you don't want it—"
"No, I want it," I say. "Did he ever say where he was moving to?"
She shakes her head, handing me the bag and paper envelope. "We didn't really converse at all, actually. He seemed like he was crying though, or really tired, one of the two."
I press my lips together. "Thank you."
"No problem. Merry Christmas!" She walks back to her door as I manage to respond.
Turning to the stairway instead of the elevator, I opened the door, sat on the first step, and set down the bag.
Why would he move? Where did he go? I can't help but think about the worst things. Olias found me at his lowest. I need to know he hasn't gone back to that state.
Opening the envelope first, I pull out a letter. My lip curls into my mouth, and I begin biting it, noticing Olias' handwriting:
To my girl,
I don't know when you'll read this, or if you ever will, but I'm writing it anyway. Maybe it's so I can let go, closure, I heard it's called. But if you are reading this, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not giving you the assurance you needed to trust me. If it weren't for you, baby, I'd be gone. I owe you my life, there's no one who will ever come close to meaning as much as you mean to me. And I've failed you by letting you think you're even capable of being replaced.
Congratulations on college. I'm so proud of you, and I know you're over the goddamn moon about it. I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you to read that letter and see your smile. But I can't be with you all the time. Or at all. Not if being together sacrifices your future.
You need to do this college stuff on your own, and I know I've been at your side for the four months I've come to love you, but you can do this without me, baby. I know you can.
I've moved apartments, I won't tell you where, because I know you well. You won't let this go, but I'm hoping you do soon.
I love you,
Olias
Ps: I left you some of my clothes to remember me by. Don't forget me, Clarity Red.
My chest hurts, air failing to escape my throat at the long, drawn-out cries that are seeping through. I move the letter to the side, slipping my fingers into my hair and gripping the roots. Pulling, the pain shoots through my body, my face damp with cold tears.
The numbness of emotion feels like an understatement. I can cry and sob, but my heart is tired. My eyes are used to the stinging of tears.
I shake my head, throwing the letter into the bag, not even opening the box.
If he thinks it'll be this easy, if he thinks I won't fight for him like he had for me, he's wrong.
Getting up with the bag, I rush down the stairs. I don't know if I'll find him where I'm going, but it's worth a shot. It's Christmas, so he isn't working.
This is the only other place I know he's gone before.