Find You in the Dark

you're in a seriously shitty mood, I'm assuming lover boy was still an ass when you chased him down like a love sick puppy?” Daniel snarked, leaning on the locker beside me.
    I yanked my books for the afternoon from the top shelf and glared at my friend. “What is your problem with him anyway, Daniel? It's not like you to be such a dick to someone you don't even know.” I couldn't help the hurt that bled through my voice. I tried to stay indignant and self-righteous but I could hear the vulnerability in my words.
    Daniel softened immediately and put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing slightly. “Sorry, Mags. I know you want to be friends with this dude. But there's just something about him that rubs me the wrong way. But I'll put on the happy face, just for you.” I smiled at him and leaned in to give him a hug. Daniel patted my back awkwardly, unaccustomed to such a show of affection from me.
    He pulled back and looked at me, a strange look on his face. “What?” I asked him, frowning. Daniel only shook his head. “You really like this guy? I mean really?” He seemed to be in a state of disbelief. Why was that such a strange concept for Daniel to get?
    “Yeah, Danny. I really, really like him.” I couldn't help my dreamy tone and I tried to ignore the eye roll Daniel gave me. “Why? He has the personality of a rock. I don't get it.” Daniel seemed genuinely perplexed. And I guess I didn't blame him. It wasn't as though he had seen the Clay that I did. The Clay that made me forget everyone and everything else.
    “No he doesn't. He's a lot of fun. I can talk to him about stuff that I can't talk about with anyone else. He has this crazy spontaneous side that makes everything we do so fun. He's cute and smart and...” Daniel held up his hand.
    “Okay, enough already. I think I vomited in my mouth a little. Whatever. Just be careful. I worry is all.” It was my turn to roll my eyes. How many times had I told him the exact same thing when it came to Kylie or some other girl he was drooling over. I thought of anyone, he would understand how I was feeling.
    Maybe not.
    “And I'll be nice. For your sake. But that doesn't mean I trust him...or like him.” Daniel gave me a hard look and I tried not to yell at him again. I wanted to shake my best friend.
    Not wanting to start another argument, I opted to stay silent. With a smile thrown in his direction, I left Danny and headed to class.

    I hated to admit that I looked for Clay all day but he successfully avoided me. Had I unwittingly ruined our friendship? Was I trying too hard to hold onto something that had barely begun? I was the worst kind of pathetic. I should be focused on kicking ass in my last year of school. Thinking of where I'll go to college. Working my butt off to get the cross country team to state. I had a million and one other things going on in my life but the only thing I could think about was him.
    Clay fucking Reed.
    He had royally screwed up my head in the month I'd known him. And I couldn't even claim to know him that well. I had really thought we had the beginnings of something. But, I'd be damned if I would invest energy into something that wasn't reciprocated.
    I had worked myself up into a ball of determination. I would not allow myself to obsess over some boy. I was better than that. I had more going for me than being some stupid girl who fixated on whether a guy would give her the time a day. That was not the person I was.
    My internal monologue had me fired up. I could practically hear my own personal soundtrack. I hummed a tune with an angry beat the whole way to my locker. I was feeling strong and untouchable.
    And then a piece of paper fluttered to my feet. It had been shoved between the slats of my locker and had fallen out when I opened it. Probably some stupid flyer for the pep rally. I started to ball it up and throw it away when my name caught my eye.
    Maggie.
    The handwriting wasn't familiar to me but somehow I knew it was from him. So, just like that, all my new found strength went straight to hell.
    I opened up the folded paper and smoothed it out. It was an amazingly intricate charcoal drawing of a gothic looking butterfly. The detail was unbelievable. It looked like one of those cool tribal art tattoos. It was edgy yet delicate at the same time. I couldn't quite believe that Clay could be capable of such beautiful artwork. His aloof coldness belied the sensitive soul who was able to communicate so much through a