Find You in the Dark (3 page)

  “
Hello!  Earth to Maggie!”  Rachel wiggled her fingers in my face, breaking my single minded focus on Mr. Cute and Gloomy.  Rachel followed my line of vision and smirked.  “Ah, checking out the new kid, huh?”  I grunted noncommittally and turned my back on the lonely boy at the back of the cafeteria.  I looked at Rachel and Daniel who wore identical grins.  “What?”  I asked defensively.

  “
Aww.  Mags has a whittle ol' cwrush.”  Daniel obnoxiously rustled my hair.  I swatted his hand away and smoothed the fly away strands.  “You're as crazy as your Glenn Close psycho girlfriend.  I met him this morning and he's a total ass.  Not remotely crush worthy.”  I lied, stuffing my mouth with a Snickers bar in an attempt to limit conversation.

 
Rachel laughed.  “Well, whatever he is, he is smokin' hot with a capital H.  Though he's kind of an odd ball.  He was in my Creative Writing class this morning.  His name is Clayton Reed and he just moved here last week from Florida.  But he's some kind of social phobe or something.  He wouldn't talk to anyone and pretty much ignored everyone who tried to talk to him.  And lord knows the girls were trying.”

  “
Well, he certainly didn't have any trouble talking when he was chewing me a new one this morning.”  I said, glancing over my shoulder at Clayton again.  “What is this?  Was he mean to you?  Do I need to have a talk with this guy?”  Daniel asked, jumping into protective brother mode.  Daniel took his role as pseudo- sibling very seriously.  No one messed with Rachel or me without making a very serious enemy.  It was nice to know someone like Daniel had your back.  The boy had clout in our little ecosystem and I felt pleasantly protected by Daniel's friendship.  But I recognized the mama bear glint in his eyes and I had to neutralize it before it led to a confrontation and further humiliation and embarrassment.

  “
Heel, Danny.  I'm a big girl and can fight my own battles.  I wasn't Miss Suzy Sunshine either.”  I conceded.  Rachel chuckled.  “Now, that sounds more like it.  Our Maggie doesn't take being verbally berated without giving as good as she gets.”  I tossed my straw paper at my best friend.  “Shut up, Rachel.  I'm the nicest person you know.”  I told her with mock indignation.  Rachel balled up the paper and flicked it back in my direction.

  “
Yeah right, Mags.  It's not like you don't have a reputation for taking people out at the knees or anything.”  Daniel joked, jabbing his fork into his fruit cup.  Okay.  I admit it, I'm not the easiest person to be around sometimes- or maybe even most of the time.  I had a habit of speaking my mind without thinking, of telling the absolute truth without any thought of possible consequences.  I had no time for fluff, so I simply didn't bother.

  “
I just have a low bullshit tolerance and I for one think that is an admirable trait.”  I bit out, a little annoyed with my friends for painting me in such a negative way.  Daniel patted my arm, noticing my dark look.  “You're right.  I'd rather be around someone who tells me like it is than having to second guess everything coming out of their mouth.  I think you are a refreshing change from the rest of the sheep at this school.”  Rachel smiled at me.  “Ditto.”  She said, reaching over and giving me a one armed hug.

 
My friends were so cool and great for that needed self esteem boost.  There was a reason I kept them around.

 
My attention was suddenly pulled back to the table being occupied by Clayton Reed.  I heard a raised voice and groaned at seeing meat- head Paul Delawder holding Clayton's MP3 player.  Paul was a raging douche bag.  He made it his mission in life to taunt, terrorize and humiliate most of the student body.  He skipped school at least three days a week and failed most of his classes.  He had already been kept back twice and he was the oldest senior in our class, being nineteen and all.  He had a designated desk in the detention room and bragged about getting a plaque for it.  A nasty moron with a taste for abuse and definitely not my favorite person.  He and I had had multiple run ins over the years and I had been on the receiving end of his harassment more times than I could count.  My hands clenched as I watched the school bully zero in on his new target.

 
Paul leaned across the table and got into Clayton's face.  Clayton wouldn't look up, his hair still in his face but I could see the tension in his shoulders.  Clayton was not a small guy, his chest was wide and his arms were thick.  I bet he could have taken Paul if he wanted to.  But instead, all he did was sit there and seem to shut down, refusing to engage.

  “
One day someone is going to punch that loser right in the face.”  Rachel muttered, looking away from the scene.  I wanted that person to be Clayton.  I don't know why I felt such a weird protectiveness over this guy who had been a total jerk to me.  Maybe it was because there was something about Clayton Reed that seemed to broadcast vulnerability.  The hunch to his shoulders, the refusal to look at anyone.  It was as if he didn't want anyone to see him and that made me want to do just that. 

 
I had never been as drawn to someone the way I was finding myself drawn to Clayton.  I didn't even know him, had only shared a mouthful of words- (and they weren't nice-) but I wanted to say more, to hear more.  So seeing Paul making Clayton his new verbal punching bag, set off my, once thought non- existent, nurturing side.

 
When Paul threw the MP3 player on the ground and stomped on it, I couldn't take it anymore.  Without thinking, I got out of my seat and started moving toward the pair.  I barely registered the “oh crap” looks on my friends' faces before I found myself behind Paul.  The bully didn't hear me approach, he was much too focused on his prey. 

  “
Look at me you little faggot.  You are such a fucking pussy, can't even say anything.  Are you fucking retarded?”  Clayton continued to stare at the table top, but I noticed the fine tremors in his hands.  I wasn't sure how he could sit there and take this crap.  But I, for one, wasn't going to.

  “
Shut up, Paul.  Don't you have a toilet somewhere that you should be drinking out of?”  I said, shoving the much bigger senior out of my way.  Paul looked down at me in surprise.  Then he laughed.  “You want some of this, bitch?”  Paul made a threatening move toward me.  I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and saw Clayton get to his feet, his face red.  He looked like he was about to kill someone.  I shivered at his expression.  Paul stepped forward and I instinctively kneed him in the groin, sending him to the ground like a bag of rocks.

 
I heard a collective gasp from the kids sitting at the tables around us.  Typical sheep mentality.  They will sit there and watch it all go down but won't lift a finger to help.  Refusing to rock the proverbial boat.  Jerks.

 
Then I heard the sound of the Assistant Principal, Mr. Kane, approaching quickly.  “What's going on here?”  Dear god, someone give this  guy a tissue already!  He was always stuffed up.  Mr. Kane frowned at me and then at Paul, who was still on the floor with his hands cupped around a very specific part of his anatomy. 

 
Paul struggled to his feet, his face purple with a barely suppressed rage.  I gave my best innocent smile.  “Nothing, Mr. Kane.  I think Paul was about to get sick or something. I was just making sure he was all right.” 

 
Paul gave me a look that could have knocked me dead.  But he proved he wasn't a complete moron by giving a tight nod and an even tighter smile.  “I'm fine.  This girl here,”- (he couldn't even remember my name, ass wipe-), “was just making sure I was okay.  It's nothing.”  Mr. Kane gave him a sharp look, and I was sure he wasn't fooled by our barely concealed lie.  “Well, if you're sick, you'd best get checked out by the nurse.”  Paul didn't move right away, not wanting to leave the scene of his attempted crime. 

 
Mr. Kane shooed him with his hands.  “Go on, Mr. Delawder.  I'll walk you there, to make sure you get to where you are supposed to be.”  The Assistant Principal turned back to me.  “And you can get to class.” Paul met my eyes as he was being herded out of the cafeteria and mouthed a really nasty word.  One for a part of a female body part.

 
Finally, when things had settled and conversations around us had resumed, I turned to look at Clayton.  I had fully intended to ask him if he was okay but was surprised to find him looking at me with full on anger. 

 
He picked up his ruined MP3 player and shoved it into his pocket.  He slowly slung his bag over his shoulder and met my eyes with a gaze as cold as ice.  “In the future, mind your own business.”  He told me.  I stared at him with my mouth hanging open, for once I had no comeback readily available.

 
Seriously?  I had just stopped him from being bullied by the resident jerk wad and this was the thanks I get?  Before I could find my voice, Clayton Reed turned his back and walked away, leaving me dumbstruck and strangely intrigued by the mysterious new student.  It was official I had lost my flipping mind.

                                               
Chapter Three

  “
You stepped all over his manhood with your sparkly flip flops, Mags.  No guy likes to be saved by a chick.  It's
our
job to do the saving. It's in the man code or something.”  Daniel told me after school, four days after my disastrous run in with Clayton Reed.  Four days and I was still venting about his attitude and lack of gratitude. 

 
Okay, to be honest, I wasn't really irritated by that anymore.  I was more irritated by the fact that I hadn't crossed paths with him since.  Clayton seemed to be making it his mission to stay out of mine and everyone else's way.  So I was still talking about our exchange in a desperate attempt at keeping it all relevant, mostly because I couldn't
stop
talking about him.
  Or
thinking about him.

 
But Daniel's words were just completely asinine.  I frowned at best friend number two.  “That is so dumb.  What was with the whole suffrage thing and the entire push for gender equality if we still have to bow down to gender stereotypes?”  I asked in my best haughty tone.  Rachel, who stood beside me rummaging through her purse for her car keys, lifted a hand to pat me on the back.  “I know it's stupid, but guys are still just cavemen deep down.”  She mused as the three of us made our way toward the parking lot.

  “
Please don't tell me you buy into this macho BS, Rach.  My inner feminist can't handle it.”  I muttered, pulling my hair tie from my wrist and scrapping my hair into a tight pony tail.  Rachel only smiled and pulled on the hair tie, loosening it.  “You're going to cut off the blood flow to your brain if you keep wearing your hair that tight.”  She said.  Rachel had been after me to let her cut my hair for years.  But I liked it long.  It was like my security blanket.

 
I grumbled under my breath, though I gave up on my irritation.  It wasn't directed at my friends anyway and they didn't deserve my foul mood.  Rachel, in her psychic friends network way, nudged my shoulder with hers.  “I haven't seen much of him either, you know.  He sits in the back of class and doesn't talk to a soul.  So it's not just you he's rude to.” 

 
I wouldn't meet her eyes, couldn't let her know that her words comforted me in some strange way.  I needed to let this go.  It was painfully obvious Clayton Reed and I were not destined to be BFFs anytime soon.  He was a social misfit, a pariah and apparently had no desire to interact with the world in general.  And while I wasn't the most likable person out there, even I couldn't work my limited charm on someone who wanted nothing to do with me.

 
Daniel jumped down the last three steps outside of the school, landing on his feet with a dramatic flourish.  Rachel and I gave him an obligatory clap.  He was such a show off sometimes.  “Seriously though, Mags, that dude is super odd anyway.  It's probably best you steer clear of him.  Rumor has it he was shipped here because he had been expelled from his last school for calling in a bomb threat or something.  Guy seems unhinged if you ask me.”  Daniel remarked, walking backwards down the side walk.

  “
You're going to fall on your ass, Danny.”  I laughed as he came off the curb and stumbled into the street.  Daniel straightened himself and gave a quick look around to see if anyone witnessed his moment of un-coolness.

 
But my friend's words interested me.  Bomb threat huh?  Though I wasn't one to take much stock in rumors.  Last year I had broken my arm after lamely falling down the stairs at home in the middle of the night when I wanted a snack.  I never told anyone but Rachel and Daniel how it happened, but somehow the story started circulating that I had broken my arm after a confrontation with a mugger in the city.  I had apparently fought back and slammed my arm into a parked car as the villain tried to take off with my purse.  The story was so detailed, I almost believed it myself.  Where do people come up with this stuff?  Though I never corrected anyone because the made up story was way better than the truth.

 
We reached Daniel's overly masculine diesel truck and he gave me a quick hug.  “Like I said, don't worry about some dude ignoring you.  You always have my full attention.”  He gave me a sloppy kiss on the forehead, laughed and jumped into the driver's seat before I could smack him.  He gave Rachel and I a wave and then pulled out of the parking lot.  Rachel sighed as he pulled away.  I gave her a gentle nudge.  “He's a goob, Rach.  Sure we love him, but he's Daniel and he won't ever change.” I tried to tell her supportively.  Rachel gave me a shaky smile.  Her unrequited crush was becoming harder and harder to watch.  And she was having a harder and harder time pretending that Daniel's blase attitude toward her didn't hurt.