14. Clayton
Clayton
Every second, every minute, every hour that we spent together was fake. It didn’t mean anything.
It meant nothing.
Maxwell reaches out a hand to me, but I push him away.
“No, Maxwell.”
There’s pain across his face and despite him telling me it’s real for him, I can’t help but think the pain is from being caught. Caught red-handed. A red-handed liar.
And I was the idiot that decided to pour my heart out on the stupid Ferris Wheel. I think those rides ruin people’s lives. They’re high and slow and everyone seems to pour the truth out on them. Fuck them.
“To answer your question, I’m going back to Maine after graduation. I’ve made up my mind.”
The life plan I had is back in action. As it should have always been. God, I was so fucking stupid to think I could change everything for him. Follow him around like some love-sick puppy. Pathetic of me, really.
“Please, you have to believe me, Clayton. When have I ever lied to you?”
“The entire fucking time!” I shout, letting my emotions get the better of me. I shove my glasses further up my nose, but it just make me more mad. Having glasses is the bane of my existence.
Maverick and Dax walk up behind him and suddenly, I feel alone. Much more alone than I ever have.
“Come on, Clayton. I’ll drive you back to campus. They’ll take an uber,” Maverick says.
“No thanks.” I pull my phone out, searching for the Uber app just to realize I don’t even have it. Sighing, I open the app store, but my phone is pulled from my hand.
“Come on,” Maverick demands.
I yank my phone back from him, but I relent. Heading to the car, I wait for him to unlock it before crawling into the passenger seat.
Time to sit in the car for a long hour and a half with Maverick. I’m too tired for this shit. My body is sore, my arms aching with the burn, my neck. All over is hurting. Inside, outside. There isn't a part of me that feels okay.
The first twenty or so minutes of the drive is tense and awkward before Maverick decides to break the silence.
“We didn’t think he was going to do it. It didn’t mean anything to him at first, especially with you hating him, but when he wiped that slate clean and got to know you, he never talked about the dare.
” His eyes never leave the road, not even to spare a single side glance.
“While you were in the bathroom he told us he liked you.”
“Well, maybe if he wanted to talk about this, he should have waited until I wasn’t around,” I snap.
“I know. I’m not trying to justify what we did or what he did, but I’m just trying to tell you that it’s real. Despite how it started, it means something to him. Doesn’t it mean anything to you?”
I turn my head, looking at the profile of Maverick’s face. His nose is smaller than I’d ever noticed from the angle. He finally turns to look at me, giving me one of those fake smiles that you give to people passing in public.
“He got everything he wanted, Maverick. He made me fall and broke my heart. It doesn’t matter what it meant to me.”
“Cla-”
“Stop. Please just stop.”
Once we arrived back at campus, the car barely stopped before I got out of it. Maverick had nothing to say and respected my wishes of being left alone.
I’m sitting in my dorm now, beating myself up for letting myself get into this mess.
I warned myself over and over, but ignored it every time I tried to talk myself away from Maxwell.
I never should have let him into my life.
This is his fault, so why do I feel guilty?
Why is the hurt across Maxwell’s face there every time that I close my eyes?
Stop calling me Maxwell. I can’t stand the way it sounds; it sounds like hate.
You’re real to me. I fell for you, okay?
His words run through my mind like a CD stuck on a scratch. Replaying. It feels like there is a hole in my chest. A Maxwell sized hole.
A knock at my door pulls me to real life, out of my head.
I consider not answering it, but there the sound is again.
Going to the door, I open it and Maxwell stands there.
His hair is pushed back with that headband he loves to wear.
The same one that he had the first time we studied together.
The same one he had when we played capture the flag a couple weeks ago.
He wears it so often and it’s my favorite part of his outfits. The way that it shows his face, facial features and that delicate skin of his.
Maxwell holds up a bottle of aloe. “We were supposed to stop and get you some aloe,” he whispers, voice raspy and weak. “It’ll help with the inflammation,” he says if I don’t know. As if we aren’t going to be in the same field of work when we leave here.
“I’ll get my own,” I say.
“Just.. take it, please,” he begs. I grab the bottle of aloe and go to close the door. Maxwell puts his foot out, stopping it from closing. I push harder against his foot and I can hear him wince from the other side.
“Can we talk about this?” He asks.
“There’s nothing to say.”
“You like me. I like you. Isn’t that enough?”
“You betrayed me, Maxwell. My trust. Our friendship. Me.”
“I was telling them that I was done with the dare. That I wasn’t going to do it.”
“Do you not see the fucking problem?" I bark out, harsh and unrelenting.
“No.”
“I thought you were smarter than that,” I stated.
He looks at me, eyes rimmed with redness that I hadn’t noticed before to show me he’s been crying.
His face is splotchy and red like he had an allergic reaction.
I believe him when he tells me that the dare wasn’t his intention anymore.
I believe him when he tells me that he likes me because the truth is in all of his actions.
What I can’t do is forgive him because all I can think about is what his intentions were.
“Goodbye, Maxwell,” I say and close the door in his face. Instead of using the aloe he just gave me, I throw it in the trash can and fall onto my bed.
Maxwell
I stare at the door Clayton just slammed in my face. That goodbye wasn’t a see you later or let’s try again tomorrow. That goodbye was a final. It was a ‘get off my doorstep and never come here again.’’
How am I supposed to walk away after the last month and a half that we’ve had?
How do I let go of all of the late night studying, the bike rides, the dinners we shared?
The nights that I would drag myself to his dorm after a party and he sat on the bathroom floor with me as I puked out my guts, rubbing my back.
Nothing was ever casual.
It was always supposed to be for me, but somewhere it turned into something real. Now I have this black hole where my heart should be and I don’t know how to fix it.
Leaning against the wall by his door, I slide down to the floor and sit. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I unlock it and dial my mom’s number.
She answers on the third ring. “Hi, Maxy. What’s going on?”
“Mom, I fucked up.”
“What happened?”
“Remember the dare I was telling you about?”
“I swear to god, Maxwell, if you broke that boy's heart..” Her words trail off and I choke on the emotions clogged in my throat.
“I didn’t mean to. I.. I fell for him. I was talking with Mav and Dax, telling them what was going on at the park today. God, we had such a good day. The best day.”
“Okay…”
“Clayton heard me. Heard about the dare.”
“Oh, sweetie.”
“He doesn’t want to talk to me. I’m not sure he believes that I mean the dare doesn’t mean anything. He said I betrayed him.”
“You did,” Mom says. The words are like a punch to the gut.
“What? No.”
“Max, you did betray him. He thought you came around out of the goodness of your heart, but you only went to him because you and your friends were trying to play a prank.”
Fuck. She’s right.
“How do I fix this? I don’t want him to be out of my life. I need him.”
“Give him time, sweetie. It’s still fresh. Leave him alone for a little while.”
“What if he realizes that all the time he spent with me was a waste and that he’s happier without me in his life?”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. He might just realize he doesn’t want a life without you. Give him time.”
Another tear rolls down my cheek. I wasn’t sure there was any left inside of me. The entire way back here with Dax in the back of the Uber was an embarrassing feat.
The one thing I can be grateful for in this situation is that Mav and Dax don’t care that I’m… bisexual? It feels weird to admit that, but admitting that I liked Clayton didn’t feel uncomfortable with them. They nodded and understood. Maybe they had noticed it before I even could.
“Thanks, mom. Love you, night,” I say. She says it back and we hang up.
I lean my head back against the wall for a moment, sucking in a deep breath.
Time to give Clayton space.