vexitiouss

I stare at the book on the floor blankly. I don't know what's the last thing I had actually eaten but I'm pretty sure I would have puked it all over Natalie's guestroom if I had had something recently.

Well at least now I know where Michella gets it from, I think drily.

But my sister is nothing like my mother. She's a million times better than her.

Too bad it's taken me this long to figure that out.

I'm not nearly as shocked as I should have been. My parents, till whatever little I had seen had never really been the most stable and loving couple. My dad loved his work more than anything else and my mom, well she had her ambition that got her to where she is now.

If they did split up, I wouldn't be shocked at all, to be honest it wouldn't matter to me even one bit after all they were strangers to me, people who I barely even knew.

No, I'm not surprised that my mother had an affair at all. But I was kind of horrified as to whom she had it with.

But most of all I was shocked, shocked about the fact how Jeanine Henderson actually managed to tolerate her and not just punch her in the face.

And Jake. How did he even manage to be in the same room as her?

I lean on the edge of the bed burying my face in my hands.

Is it too hard for me to ask for a life that isn't so messed up that it makes my head hurt every second of the damn day?

I can't get myself to actually wrap my head around the book in front of me, the one that Jake had written all those years ago.

About me.

And him.

It was us, the way he saw it.

I let out a small smile remembering when he'd stood in the rain and told me that I wasn't just a chapter but the entire book.

Maybe he'd meant it quite literally.

It hurt to see the clarity with which he remembered everything. I'd always known Jake had a very good memory but this was bordering on eidetic.

He remembered everything.

He remembered everything about me.

Seeing me through his eyes I seem like the protagonist of some book, a fascinating, interesting main character who has a lot more to her personality than just being clumsy and an absolute dork.

I'm not plain old whiny Clara Wilson with abandonment issues the way he describes me, I'm someone who is different... in a good way.

Seeing me through his eyes I don't seem helpless, I don't seem broken. Maybe I was a different version of myself back when we were fourteen and I hadn't nearly been through as much.

And Jake.

This, all of it is the boy I fell in love with, the boy who was impossibly damaged even back then but at the same time impossibly good.

He'd always told me that he didn't deserve me and I had always blindly believed him like an idiot always choosing to see the worst in him because I was so damn scared of how he made me feel.

And now he was gone.

Shut up Clara, A voice in my head says that sounds dangerously close to Rebecca, Just read the damn book and stop whining.

I'm going to be perfectly honest I was tempted to record the whole scene and release to the press before anything else.

I would have too, had I not thought about my mother at that point. Although her relationship with the bastard had never quite been good she still loved him and chose to turn a blind eye to all his faults. Some of it she obviously did for me because asking for the divorce meant that I was stuck with him alone.

But she did love him, I don't know how but she managed to love him and somehow managed to love even me. Although I would love to see his reputation fall to ruin it wasn't worth what it would do to my mother.

And of course because of the one particular Wilson it might effect.

So the press thing was out but my mother still deserved to know the truth so that she could finally understand that even I wasn't worth staying with him.

I quickly step out of view, opening the door had been soundless enough and they had been pretty busy to notice I was fairly confident neither had seen me.

I wasn't going to shut it though. That much should be left to their imagination.

I made my way down the stairs quickly and it would have probably taken me three steps more to reach my mother and tell her the truth.

But instead I stopped.

I often wonder if I hadn't seen her at that moment how things would be different.

Clara was siting on the floor her back against the sofa watching something on TV .She wasn't paying attention to it though even though she was desperately trying to. Her sister sat on a sofa across her raising her eyebrow and saying something I can't quite hear.

Clara's hand instinctively goes to her red hair in response to whatever her sister was saying and a flash of hurt passes across her face.

But it's quick to disappear like it's always been with her, all you got was a micro-second to see what she felt before she locked it up inside her so that no one could see what she felt.

And no matter how many times I saw it, it still managed to take me by surprise. This girl may not look it but she was one of the strongest people I knew and for the life of me I couldn't figure out how she did it.

Every time I saw it I had to stop to figure out how, I had to figure out why. Because there was something about her that was absolutely unforgettable and no matter how much I tried.

If it hadn't been her there, if it had been anybody else then I wouldn't have stopped.

If it hadn't been her things would have turned out differently.

For starters I wouldn't have turned her sister's hair green.

But if that day I hadn't seen Clara I would have probably gone to my mother and I would have told her the truth.

My mother would lose one of her closest friends and she probably would have left him right at that moment.

At least that's what I want to convince myself.

But I had barely made it down the hall when I feel my father's vice like grip on my arm as he pushes me into the room that's closest to us and locks the door behind him.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?"

Leaving the door open had been a dumb move on my part; I was probably the only one in the entire house who would do it to taunt him.

I clench my fist and stare at coldly back at him. I wasn't afraid of my father. I never had been, he wasn't someone who I respected enough to even be scared off.

"I'm going to tell her." I say coldly, "What? You expected me to keep quiet about your little adventure there? I was thinking about recording the whole it would make for a great home movie-"

I don't see the back of his hand until it's too late and he hits me with enough force to send me reeling back so much so that I taste blood in my mouth.

He really was a bastard.

"You're not going to say a word." He says, it's not a request; it's not a command but a statement. A statement with no room for error.

Good. Because those were the ones I had the most fun breaking.

"Watch me." I sneer.

'You're not going to say a word Jake." He warns once again, "It will hurt your mother."

I don't think he realizes just how full of shit he really is.

"Hurt my mother? You should have thought about that before sticking your throat down somebody else's throat." I say, "How long has this been going on? Is this why you invited the Wilson's this summer so that-"

"Enough." He roars, "My decisions are not something I have to run by you."

"Good." I say, "Neither do I. I'll have fun seeing you squirm during the hearing. Do us both a favor and give up custody."

I step forward reaching for the door but he step in front of me blocking my path.

"It only happened once." He says, "And you are not going to say a word to your mother."

"Cut the shit, dad." I taunt, "We both know you're just worried how this is going to reflect on the company. Seeing the real bastard you-"

This time he hits even harder but I stand my ground. It's not like he hasn't done this before.

I don't wince but instead give him a wide grin. I know my lip is split by the way it stings but that's a bonus.

The one thing Conrad Henderson cannot stand is things he can't control. And it killed him that no matter what he did he couldn't control me.

I wasn't going to be his pawn and he knew it.

"Have fun with your company." I say wiping the blood on my mouth with the back of my hand, "It's all you're going to have anyway."

"I'm doing this for you." He says, "It's yours to inherit, it's your future. It's what keeps us together. Why do you think you're mother hasn't left yet? Because money is power and power is everything."

I laugh, "You're wrong. It's not what keeps us together it's what drove us apart. And your desperate need for power just shows what a coward you really are."

He doesn't say anything for a moment before he shakes his head and moves out of the way, "Go tell her then. Tell your mother the truth and see how she'll still choose to stay."

"She won't." I say, "She's not like you."

He doesn't say a word this time and there is something close to amusement on his face.

I leave.

My fists are still clenched tightly into fists

But I didn't tell her.

I could have, I could have gone right to her room with no hesitation told her everything right then and there and begged her to just end it.

But I didn't.

I like to tell myself it was because I was doing this for her so that she didn't lose her friend or she didn't have to realize just how far someone could fall but I knew that wasn't true.

I didn't tell her because I was afraid that he was right. He was right about her in the end. But in the end it was something else entirely that stopped me.

I called him a coward but I was just like him, because if my mother did leave then I would have to face him alone and I don't think I'd last very long.

In the end though not telling her made no difference.

______________________________

There was a lot of silence from the shrink's part yesterday. It was kind of amusing to watch I'm going to be honest.

Maybe he's finally figuring out that the man who's hired him to practically spy on me is a total asshole and we've not even reached the worst part yet.

But if he knows what's good for him shrinkie should keep his mouth shut. Conrad Henderson will ruin him with a snap of his finger if he lets out even one of his dirty little secrets.

He does say that this is progress and I'm opening up. To be honest I'm just bored. I have nothing to do except stare at walls and contemplate about absolutely nothing.

So now we are back to Clara for his sake as well as mine.

She's far more fun to write about anyway.

The entire week leading up to that Saturday I was trying to find ways to avoid what was waiting but there was no way out of it.

I knocked on the door and it opened to reveal a very sleepy Clara Wilson rubbing her eyes. Her hair was sticking out in a million different angles and she was wearing a striped pajamas.

"What are you doing here?" She asked her eyes still half closed as she yawns.

"Is that what you're wearing tonight?"

Her eyes snap open and she's looking at me wide eyed. She does a once over checking me from head to toe her face turning a deep shade of red.

"What are you doing here?" She asks frantically, "What party what-"

Realization dawns on her face,"Shit."

"Give me two seconds." She says, "I'll be right out."

"You can cancel you know I can always take Ali-"

"Absolutely not." She says firmly but there is something close to hurt in her voice, "I'll be right out."

I nod, "Okay. Cute PJ'S by the way."

She groans and slams the door shut promptly.

I'd given her an out, one last attempt to get her involved in all of this but for some reason it seemed like she was hurt by it.

Why?

It took her exactly two minutes for her to come out. I knew because I stood put for all of those very long two minutes thinking about the shit I was getting her into.

I'd like to say that I stayed because it wouldn't have made a difference, she was already involved and it was better this way but that wasn't the reason.

It was because I was curious.

Clara Wilson wasn't somebody I could quite understand, she was far too different, far too unpredictable.

But for some reason I wanted to understand. Figure her out. No matter how soppy that sounded it was true.

The door opened and Clara stood with her hands crossed. She hadn't done a lot, tied her hair in a ponytail and worn a red plaid shirt instead. The look was so ridiculously typically Clara Wilson. Except instead of jeans she'd worn shorts instead.

Her ridiculously long legs were on full display and I nearly stumbled. That's when I knew I was in shit.

I was so very very fucked.

Now since shrinkie here is probably reading this I'm going to keep this PG 13 and just conclude the thought at the fact that I'm most certainly not gay.

Because at that moment I could think of a thousand different things to do to-

Well you get the point.

But instead like a true gentleman I chose to take the higher path and say, "Nice touch with the make up."

And I wink.

I wink.

I wink like some idiot because I was so completely lost when it came to her.

That and it was taking all my self-control to just stand there because this was quite literally the worst kind of hell there was.

"When the hell did lip-gloss become make up?" She asks as I turn around and start walking ahead.

I hope she's following me because I don't think I have it in me to turn around and get a glance of her in those shorts again.

To top it off the grounds were absolutely deserted too. Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

"Where are we going?" She whispers breaking the silence. Her voice sounds lower and far raspier and well let's just say it was absolutely not helping with my predicament.

"Why are you whispering?" I ask out loud and she jumps.

"I don't know." She says still whispering, "Cause it's dark and lonely and you are supposed to whisper?"

She's got nothing to be afraid of except maybe me, and the whispering was certainly not going to save her.

I laugh at the very irony of her sentence and she glares at me, "If we get caught or kidnapped I'll make sure you get killed first."

I roll my eyes and then finally whisper too, "Fine have it your way Car."

I don't know why I call her that but I find that it suits her.

"Will you stop calling me a car?" She says annoyed.

"Okay Alec. " I say.

And that kills the mood.

Thank the fucking gods. I don't know how long I would be able to stay like that.

"Shut up." She says and the look she's got on her face looks like she's planning on throwing me to the wolves.

"Wow I didn't know you were that violent, Car." I say.

She turns red and I realize I had guessed correctly.

"Why do you even call me Car?" She asks.

I had no idea.

It just happened and it suited her. It was an extremely cute nickname for her.

Now since I can't tell her that without sounding like a total idiot I have to come up with something far more creative.

"Clara is too long." I state.

Seriously? That's what I came up with? It's like whatever game I had just fucking vanished when it came to her and no matter what I said I seemed like a total idiot.

"Are you kidding me?" She says, "It's five letters and one more letter than your name."

"Yes, but still long." I say and then try and different one, "Besides that's where I got to know you for the first time in the car now didn't I?"

What even-

I got to know you in a car?

I needed to shut up.

How did I become such an idiot?

I got to know you in the car that's why I call you that?

She's probably thanking her lucky stars that we didn't meet in a bathroom.

She halts suddenly and I beckon her forward, "Come on. We've almost reached."

The cabin is up ahead, thankfully. The party is already on in full swing.

"Why are we here?" She asks.

She's not supposed to be here and it's all my fault and my stupid fascination with her that she's even here.

Fuck the consequences I needed her out of here now.

Before I can even begin to put my impromptu plan into motion loudmouth appears in front of us.

He shoves a red plastic cup into my hand and says, "Jake. I thought you weren't going to come."

He then turns his attention towards Clara and checks her out in a way that makes me want to strangle him.

"Do you want a drink?" He asks and puts another drink in front of her.

She looks at it, hesitation written all over her face and I think she's going to say no but instead she unsurely puts her hand forward and-

And I slam the damn cup to the ground.

I don't have to use my imagination as to what loudmouth put in her drink.

"What the hell man?" Loudmouth says.

Relief is plastered all over her face and I relax. I turn to loudmouth, "Do you really think she's going to drink-"

She doesn't even let me finish the sentence before she grabs the drink from my hand with something that looks like challenge on her face.

And then she practically finished the entire cup at one go. She chokes a little but she puts on a mocking smile and looks straight at me and says, "I do drink. "

Oh for fucks sake.

Loudmouth grinned, "Wow you've got a real feisty one here Henderson."

And an incredibly stupid one, clearly.