16. Clara

CHAPTER 16

CLARA

Whenever I see you at your locker, I wish I could kiss you. - Nick

Isat down at Clay Meadows’s desk—senior honors English and Shakespeare—and stared out the window on the other side of the room. I did not have the energy to deal with this job today and I wanted to go home. The rain pounded in a relentless beat, almost in time with the pounding in my head. We were supposed to have a thunderstorm and I was dreading it; thunder and lightning scared me, and always had.

I wished I could quit and go back to my plants, my podcasts, and my Rear Window-ing. But I couldn’t, not yet. Not until I was sure this thing with Gracie and her bully bitch trio was over and done with once and for all. I might stick it out for the rest of the school year, just to be sure.

But Gracie hardly needed me here anymore. Her ankle was healed, and Marianne had become too smart to target her again at school. The infamous cafeteria Snack Pack incident had been a one-timer. Once she caught sight of me on campus and realized what I was there for, she had gone into stealth mode.

Unfortunately, Gracie wouldn’t let me do any of what I was best at to get her out of the online situation, so my hands were tied there. I was not allowed to create fake social media accounts for return bullying and counter rumors. She wouldn’t even let me call Marianne’s mother and put a stop to it the adult way. She was convinced they would just move on.

All this passivity was unlike the Gracie I knew. I blamed Everett’s influence, possibly Willa’s too. They were just too good. They were wonderful examples of healthy adults in a successful and loving relationship—which I grudgingly had to admit was probably for the best. She was better living with them than a hot mess like me. Despite my years of therapy, I was still a disaster in way too many ways to count.

I’d had to resort to glaring at Marianne and her little friend group in the hallways to let them know I was still onto them and their wicked ways. It was frustrating, and boring, and not at all what I had signed up for. I wanted to thwart them and be the big sister hero, dang it. I wanted to make Gracie feel okay about being on campus without Weston and was pissed that I couldn’t.

But what had been on my mind the most over the last week or so was homecoming and what Nick and I had done that night in his bed.

I wasn’t hiding out, but I wasn’t putting myself out there either. There were too many feelings between us now to deny them so I had asked him for a pause, which I felt had to be one of my more brilliant ideas. There would be no more pulling away or keeping my feelings to myself. Being honest was the right thing to do. I still needed time to sort myself out.

My endless years of therapy had not prepared me to have Nick back in my life. Probably because ever since him, I’d only been using half of my heart. I knew now the other half had been a shriveled up little shell of itself, sitting dormant and useless in my chest cavity. Him being back had awakened parts of me I’d put to sleep a long time ago, and I wasn’t ready to feel this much. It scared me. I worried for the both of us. The last thing I wanted to was hurt him or be hurt.

In retrospect, having sex with him so soon was probably a mistake. And though I didn’t regret it, it put my heart on the line even more than it had been before. I also wanted to do it again immediately.

None of the heat between us had dissipated over the years, but more than that, I still craved the way he made me feel—like I mattered, like I was special, like I was an important part of his life and he wanted to keep me in it. But we had to keep things a secret for the sake of his kids. I understood it, but it felt a little too reminiscent of our past and therefore still bothered me. I wasn’t some random woman he’d started dating, dang it.

I had to get my head on straight or I’d end up being the one to hurt him. I would do anything to avoid that.

It wasn’t even lunch yet and I was already over this entire day. My head had been aching since I woke up and my stomach was a roiling mess of nerves.

Clay’s classroom was right next door to Nick’s, and it had been driving me to distraction since I got here. Thankfully, I’d made it to my prep period and the kids were at band or PE or art or wherever. The point was they were gone, and I could finally have a moment to myself. I felt so wretched I was tempted to lie on the floor and take a damn nap. Instead I let my head drop to the desk as my hands went to my agonized stomach.

What the hell was wrong with me? I couldn’t be pregnant. It had only been a week since homecoming and in addition to the condom we used, I was on the pill.

Maybe I’d caught something. I did work every day surrounded by a bunch of germy kids. Granted, teens were big kids, but they were still a mess.

A cold sweat broke out over my upper lip and along my hairline as shimmering white filled the edges of my vision and a wave of nausea washed over me, turning my stomach into a pulsating knot.

Shit.

This was not nerves. I was about to barf.

Something was definitely going around campus. I didn’t know if it was the stomach flu or a bad cold, or another dang virus sent straight up from hell. I’d marked at least a third of the kids absent today, damn it.

Can you get a sub for a sub?

Frantically, I looked around for something to puke in. There was no time to get to the bathroom and I refused to vomit in my new Chanel tote—no freaking way.

There was nothing in here, not even a garbage can. I made a mental note to complain about that as I ran to the window, threw it open, and leaned out, bent at the waist over the edge. Thankfully I was on the first floor, and everything went into the bushes below.

I located a box of tissues and wiped my mouth as I turned around and sank to the floor, panting and gasping and hoping that the feeling I would toss my cookies again would pass so I could get the hell out of here and crawl into bed with a barf bowl. Or maybe just lapse into a coma on my bathmat so I could be near the toilet.

This was so dang gross.

“Are you okay?” I looked up to find Ruby, Gracie’s bestie, hovering above me, eyes lit up with concern. “We heard everything. What can I do?”

“I’m sick. I just threw up out the freaking window. I swear I’m dying.” My stomach rolled. “Oh god . . .”

“You must have caught that stomach virus that has been going around. You need to go home. I’ll pop next door and let Mr. Easton know. We can all go over there with his class until the office finds someone to cover you.” She gestured behind her. “We’ve done it before whenever there hasn’t been a substitute available right away.” I looked over her shoulder to find the rest of Mr. Meadows’s class staring at me.

I narrowed my eyes, letting them drift across each one of their germ-riddled faces. Which one of these little fuckers had gotten me sick? I should have known better . . .

“I’d help you up, but I have two AP tests tomorrow and I can’t miss them.” She reached for the huge tub of hand sanitizer on the bookshelf next to me and squirted a healthy dollop into her palm. “Marianne, come help Miss Hill up and walk her to her car, will you? You don’t have anything important happening this week. Or ever, now that I’m thinking on it. Getting good grades obviously isn’t your thing and that’s okay. I mean, we’re not all cut out to be honor students, right?” If I wasn’t feeling like such shit, I would have laughed.

Given the way she was speaking to Marianne, Ruby was clearly not as clueless as Gracie thought she was.

“Yuck. Ugh, fine.” Marianne wasn’t happy about it, but she immediately came over to do as Ruby asked and reached a hand down to me.

I took it, my curiosity piqued at how this was playing out, but I put a pin in it to contemplate later. Right now, I had to concentrate on not accidentally giving her payback for the way she’s been treating Gracie by way of spewing what I’d had for breakfast all over the front of her pretty pink sweater.

“Let’s go next door, y’all,” Ruby directed the rest of the kids.

“Thanks,” I told her as I let Marianne take my arm. I was wobbly on my feet but clearheaded. I’d be okay to drive.

“Not a problem. Get some rest.”

Marianne scuttled off the second I unlocked my car door. I made it home in time to cut the engine, flail my way out of my car, and throw up in my recycling bin.

Without bothering to click the garage door closed, I stumbled into the kitchen through the interior entrance and found my way to my living room floor. I managed to yank the throw blanket from the arm of the sofa and curled into the fetal position by the edge of the fireplace.

Sleep was all I could think about. A little nap was all I needed, then I’d be fine. Right? Please be right . . .

I kicked off my pumps and tucked my knees tight to my chest with a moan.

I was not fine. I was the opposite of fine.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, followed by a crash of lightning and I flinched. When it rained, it poured—literally. But I was too sick to be scared of the storm so I stayed where I was.

Tears filled my eyes as another stomach cramp sent me spiraling. I didn’t want to move. In fact, I wondered if I could even get up if I wanted to. Oh well. My floors were wood and would be easier to clean than carpet when this was all over.

I should have a barf bowl in every room, I decided as I groaned into the floor and tried to slow my breathing. Why did I only think of shit like this when it was too late to do anything about it?

I hadn’t been this sick in years and I was pretty sure I’d gotten vomit in my hair when I hurled into my recycling bin. A quick sniff told me I had, and that it was on my shirt too.

Whatever. At least I was home where I could cry in my living room and feel sorry for myself in peace. I was alone with no one around to care if I smelled like puke.

How sad was I?

I wiped my hair as best I could with the throw blanket then tossed it into the fireplace. No way was I doing that kind of laundry.

“Clara, baby, where are you?”

Oh.

My goodness.

It was Nick. He’d probably come in through my unlocked garage. Either that or he’d climbed up to my balcony again to rescue me just like freakin’ Romeo.

I buried my face in my arms. Since I didn’t have enough strength in my body left to care what I smelled like, I figured hiding was the right thing to do.

Couldn’t I just die in peace?

“In the living room.” My voice was a weak mewl.

“Ruby told me you were sick. Pindich and his secretary are covering the classes.” He bent and scooped me into the cradle of his arms as if I weighed nothing. “Let’s get you tucked into bed, sweetheart.”

“No, I barfed in my hair, Nick. I smell so gross.”

He inhaled and drew his head back to look at me with gentle eyes. “No worries. We’ll get you cleaned up first.”

My voice was barely a whisper when I said, “You don’t have to do this. I’ll be okay. Go home, save yourself from my germs. You don’t want to catch this.”

“Hush, baby. You’re sick, let me take care of you.”

I gave up and relaxed, sinking into the warmth of his arms as he carried me to my bathroom. I couldn’t help but notice how my head fit perfectly into the hollow between his shoulder and neck, like I was made to be right here‚ cared for by him, loved by him, taken care of by him. Damn it.

“Okay.” My emotions whirled and skidded along with the sudden recurrence of the churning nausea in my gut. “Oh god, put me down.”

Ever so gently, he set me on my feet in front of the toilet, bending to lift the lid as I knelt in front of it.

But nothing.

I sat back and leaned against the tub as my stomach seized and my head throbbed. I knew I was burning up with a fever when a flash of heat seared my temples and another cold sweat covered my body. I sat shivering as I fought against bursting into tears.

The back of his hand went to my brow. “You have a fever. Where is your thermometer?”

I flopped a hand in the direction of my medicine cabinet. I had no idea if I still had one in there or not. Sadie had been the one to stock my house with all the necessities that adults were supposed to have. She probably took it when she moved out.

“The kids?” I mumbled as I caught a case of the chills and shivered.

“With Morgan. I’m here for the duration, Clara. I won’t leave you alone.”

“M’kay. Thank you.” I flopped to my side, pulling down a towel to use as a blanket. “I’ll stay right here and go to sleep.”

“Do you think you can manage sitting in the tub? I can wash your hair for you, then put you to bed.”

I felt a bit ridiculous, but I wanted to say yes. The smell was making me gag.

“I’ll return the favor if I get you sick.”

“Nah, I never get sick. You owe me a date now, that’s what I want. Dinner, movie, a walk in the park—I don’t care as long as we make plans and do something together. Like we never could before. A real date.” He leaned over me to get the hot water started.

“Fine, I’ll buy you that steak at The Front Porch we talked about. Oh god, no more talk about food right now. Get out!” I shrieked as I shot to my knees and lost the rest of my breakfast in the toilet.

But he did not get out; he knelt at my side and pulled my hair back. “I got you. You’ll be okay,” he soothed. He was good at this. He must have had a lot of practice with Ethan and Sasha, or maybe Morgan when she was pregnant.

I nodded and drooped against his side.

“I hate this.” My voice was a pitiful little whine. All I wanted was to go to sleep but I knew I wouldn’t be able to, not with my hair and shirt a stinky mess.

He stood. “Take my hands. Stand up.”

He made quick work of getting me undressed and helping me into the tub where, true to his word, he washed my hair, got me cleaned up, then wrapped me in a towel. Then he led me to my room and helped me sit on the edge of my bed as he dug through my dresser for pajamas.

I blinked, trying not to get caught watching him like an insipid, love-addled fool. I was almost grateful for the hot tears filling my eyes, as they forced me to finally look away from him. I wiped them with the corner of the towel before he could see me in such an emotional state.

Since him, no one in my life had treated me with such selfless tenderness. My sisters and I took care of each other, but with them it was usually us finding our way through our shared problems—it was empathy, it was commiseration, it was us leaning on each other to make it through. Nick was different; with him I felt like I could let myself go and he could handle whatever I may need.

Our eyes met and I silently vowed that I would make him feel exactly as safe and comfortable as he was making me feel. Whenever he needed me, I would be there for him. I froze when I realized that was what our entire past relationship had been based on; we’d always been there for each other. Until it had ended.

“Lift your arms, baby.” His eyes burned with a faraway look, and I gasped when I realized what he’d found.

“Nick, I⁠—”

His voice was incredulous. “You kept it.”

I lifted my arms as he slid one of his old high school football jerseys over my head. “Umm . . .” I couldn’t form words. I was burning with fever, overcome with memories, and struck speechless by the love shining in his eyes.

“After all these years, you still have it.”

“I couldn’t get rid of it, I⁠—”

“Shh, lie down.” His gentle palm cupped my cheek as he pushed me back and tucked me in, pulling my quilt up to my chin and dropping a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to run to my house and grab some things. Your medicine cabinet is sorely lacking. We’ll talk more about everything when you feel better.”

“Okay,” I murmured, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion.

“But Clara? I have to say one thing before you crash.”

“Yes?”

“Seeing you in that shirt again means the world. Knowing that you kept it is everything to me. You have to know that.” I nodded, unable to fight against my eyelids closing.

It was dark when I woke. The weather had not improved but my stomach had.

Blindly, I reached into the dark for the lamp at my bedside table to turn it on, smiling when I found a bottle of water and two Tylenol sitting in my tiny butterfly jewelry tray.

“How are you feeling?” Nick’s deep voice rumbling across my room sent a shiver up my spine.

“You stayed.”

“Of course I did. I would never leave you like this.”

I paused and took stock of my body. “I think my stomach is better, it’s just sore now.”

“I have chicken soup I can heat up when you’re ready and I brought over some necessities—crackers, non-moldy bread for toast, applesauce, Gatorade. You need to keep your pantry full, sweetheart. What if I wasn’t here to take care of you? Dehydration is a real concern when you’re throwing up.”

“I know. I just—” My voice was small. “Sadie used to do all that stuff. I usually just order in or pick something up whenever I leave the house.”

Thunder crashed in the distance, and I jumped. Growing up hadn’t gotten rid of my fear of thunderstorms, no matter how many times my mother had told me it would.

“Still?” He remembered. We’d gotten stuck in a thunderstorm one of the nights we’d snuck off to Sky Lake. We ended up huddled on the floor of his truck until the storm faded away. How we had both fit down there was a mystery for the ages.

I nodded. “Will you stay with me? I’m too sick to sleep in my closet. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Oh, baby.” I lifted the covers, and he slid in behind me, spooning me up against the big wall of his chest. “Shh, I’m here . . .”

“You’re so warm.” I snuggled backward, and he hugged me tighter.

He whispered into my hair, “Go back to sleep,” then kissed the crown of my head. “I’ll be here as long as you need me to be.”