Find You in the Dark

were times when I thought that maybe these two parts of my life might be able to co-exist. Clay could be talkative and polite with my friends, when the mood suited him. I loved seeing him banter with Rachel and talk to Daniel- (who was making an effort at least-) about soccer. Clay made me feel so endlessly happy when he was like that.
    But then there were the days when Clay would disappear, not showing up for lunch and becoming again the shadow in the hallways. If I approached him, he would either blow me off or act like he was angry with me. His moods were mercurial. He seemed to close in on himself at times and it made me sick to my stomach. I asked him about it once and he pretended that he didn't know what I was talking about, that I was imagining things.
    But when things were good. They were fantastic. He was so much fun to be around. He made me laugh and let loose in a way that I had never done before. He made the most mundane things exciting and interesting. There was something magnetic about Clayton Reed that made it almost impossible for me to stay away from him.
    We were still technically “friends.” Though our friendship danced a very fine line into something else. I could feel it. I knew Clay could feel it. But I also knew Clay held back for some reason and right now I was okay with letting us go at his pace. Because I knew it would lead to something life altering. Even though it drove me nuts.
    Particularly since Clay continued to garner a lot of attention from the girls at Jackson High School. I hated the painful jealousy I'd feel whenever I watched some stupid cheerleader or annoying flirty girl try to get his attention. I was possessive of my relationship with Clay in a way that surprised me. But I found, to my intense relief, he seemed content with spending time within my small circle.
    I had come to realize how amazing Clayton Reed was and I didn't want to share him.
    “What's wrong with going to a party?” I asked innocently, really not attending to his wariness. I handed him a handful of pewter figurines and he carefully placed them on top of the case. I watched his purposeful yet delicate movements and thought about those hands touching me with the same gentleness.
    Clayton seemed to be weighing his words before he answered me. “I'm just not really a party person anymore.” “Anymore? Were you a party person before?” I asked him. Clayton sat back on the chair behind him and started digging through the box on the floor at his feet. He was still so choosy in the information he revealed about himself. I had learned in the last few weeks that he felt his parents could no longer “deal” with him and that's why he was now living with his aunt. He admitted to having a lot of “problems” and it had become too much for his mom and dad to “handle.” His aunt was apparently much more patient and supportive of him, and he felt more relaxed in her home than he ever did with his parents.
    “Yeah, partying was part of my issue in Florida.” He said, getting up and carrying the box to the back room. Tilly gave him a smile as he passed by her. Her smile to me was much tighter and I knew it bothered the older girl that I hung out with Clayton in the store, which she must have viewed as her territory.
    Okay, so maybe my smile was a little smug as I followed Clayton with another box. But I couldn't help it. “Do you need any help, Clay?” Tilly called out. She was tenacious, I'd give her that. “We're good, Tilly. Thanks though.” Clay replied over his shoulder without looking in her direction -(earning Tilly another smug smile from yours truly-).
    I dropped it on the floor inside the dark storage room. “Be careful, Mags. Ruby will have my head if you break the crystal balls in there.” He said sharply, quickly looking through the box to make sure everything was still in one piece. Despite his terse tone, I thrilled at his use of my nickname. I loved it when he called me Mags instead of Maggie, thinking it hinted at an intimacy that I desperately longed for.
    “Sorry, Clay.” I said, sitting down in a metal chair. I stretched my back after carrying the heavy box. “So you had a problem with partying in Florida? What kind of problem?” I asked as he sorted through the greeting cards inside his box. Clay looked up at me with that unreadable expression he was prone to displaying.
    “Well, I got in heavy with drugs and stuff. Hanging with the wrong crowd and all. Things got a little