Find You in the Dark

Okayyy. I picked up the blanket and folded it, laying it back at the foot of the bed. “How did I end up in the bed?” I asked after smoothing the sheets.
    Clay still hadn't moved from the doorway, his eyes watched me intently. “I put you there not long after you fell asleep.” “And you slept...?” My words trailed off. Did he sleep in the bed with me? Clay gave me a small smile. I was so happy to see it after the drama of last night. “I slept on the couch.” “Oh.” I said, not sure what else to say, kind of bummed that we hadn't been together all night.
    I was disappointed to feel the renewal of the old awkwardness that had disappeared from our relationship over the last month. It was like putting on shoes that you had grown out of; not right. But our friendship had taken a drastic turn last night and I didn't know where we would go from here. Clay had some major demons and I had no idea what they meant for him or us. “Bathroom?” I asked, my voice scratchy from too little sleep.
    Clay continued to stare at me with his unreadable expression. “Down the hall on the right. There's an extra tooth brush in the cabinet and towels on the shelf.” I scampered out of the room, sliding past Clayton, who had yet to move. I locked myself in the cheery bathroom. It was decorated in a bright nautical theme with boats and fish painted on the walls. A little perky for my mood, if you ask me.
    I really needed a shower. So I ran the water, stripped off my clothes, and stood under the hot spray. I stood there for an endless moment, letting the droplets drip down my body. I closed my eyes and replayed my night with Clay over and over in my head. What had happened to him? What was going on with him? Finally I turned off the shower and grabbed a fluffy yellow towel and dried off. I hated to put my dirty clothes back on, but considering my overnight bag was at Rachel's I didn't have choice. I found a comb and the extra toothbrush still in the packaging under the sink. I took my time working through the tangles in my hair and then put it back in the dreaded pony tail. Rachel would kill me if she saw it.
    I brushed my teeth and started to feel semi human again. Looking in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. I looked exhausted with dark circles ringing my eyes and pasty looking skin. I took a deep breath and finally left the bathroom, slowly making my way back down the hall.
    I entered Clay's room quietly and found him sitting on the bed, his hands hanging limply between his knees. He looked up when I moved toward him; his eyes looked as tired as I felt. “I'm sorry.” He said finally. I sat beside him on the bed and said nothing. Clayton's hands trembled and he clasped them together in front of him. “I don't know what to say to you right now. Please tell me how I can make this better.” He pleaded. I sat up straight, needing all of my strength to confront him.
    “How about the truth. Enough with the evasive crap. Just tell me what's going on with you.” Clayton took a deep breath. “Yeah. I guess I owe you that.” He said. “You think?” I snarked, feeling bad when I saw the hurt flash crossed his face.
    “Mags. You are the best friend I have ever had. I don't know many people that would have stayed after all of that last night, particularly after the way I treated you at that party. You're way too good for me.” He sounded so sad and I hated it. I took his left hand in mine and held it lightly, not wanting to frighten him off.
    “I don't even know where to begin.” Clay mumbled, turning his hand over until his fingers laced with mine. Just like they had been last night as I held him. “How about the beginning. That's usually a good place to start.” I suggested, urging him on. “Sure. The beginning.” He stood up abruptly and moved to the window, looking outside.
    “Well, I guess I should start by telling you the real reason I'm living here in Virginia and not in Florida with my parents. We had a rough relationship to say the least. They are pretty well off. My dad is the District Attorney for Miami Dade County and my mom's a party coordinating, pearl earring wearing, gin and tonic at nine AM kind-of socialite. They are on the inside of the social scene in Miami. I grew up with politicians and celebrities coming to my house for bar-b-ques. But have never been, what you would call, warm parents. I was raised mostly by hired nannies, who came and went out of my life like a revolving door.”
    I