Maybe I was an idiot, or a glutton for punishment. Or maybe I naively subscribed to the foolish notion that my love could save him. Whatever the reason, I entered the room and sank to the carpet beside that sad and broken boy.

I touched his arm and he flinched. “No, Maggie. I don't want you to see me like this.” He hid his face in his arms while he continued to rock. His body shook with the force of his sobs. Each guttural noise ripped at my heart and I wanted to gather him to my chest and rock with him.

“I'm not sure what's going on with you. But I'm not going anywhere.” I assured him, speaking softly as though to a wild animal that would run at any moment. I reached out and touched his arm again. This time he didn't pull away. I took that as an encouraging sign so I crawled closer to him. “Clayton, look at me please.” I murmured. I gently lifted his face. His eyes were red and blood shot, his cheeks flushed. The cut at his hairline had come open again and a small trickle of blood made its way down his forehead. He seemed to have sobered up a bit; his eyes were less bleary but there was something still there that worried me.

I hesitantly wiped the blood from his face and then left my fingers on his cheek. Clay closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He seemed so tortured. What could be eating him up so? “What's going on with you?” I asked, not entirely sure he'd give me an answer. Clay shook his head. “You should go. I don't wanna drag you into my shit. You deserve better than that. Than me.” I slid my fingers down until they rested on the side of his neck. We were so close, our breath mingled together, each invading the others' personal space. But for once, Clayton wasn't pulling away. Instead he seemed to be desperate for my touch, for my contact, and I wanted to give it to him.

“Why don't you let me decide what I deserve. Now, tell me what's going on with you. Obviously you're going through something and I'd like to help if you'd let me.” Clay took a shaky breath. “I just wanted to be normal. For once, I wanted to feel normal. Is that so wrong?” He whispered. I had no idea what he was talking about. I gave him a small smile.

“Eh. Normal is overrated.” I said lightly. I wanted to see Clay smile back at me. Instead my words seemed to cause him pain. He shuddered slightly and closed his eyes again. “You just don't understand, Maggie. You really should go. Please.” He said tightly, though I could tell he really didn't want me to leave. That he was just saying the words that should be said instead of actually meaning them.

“Nope, you're stuck with me. Friends don't leave one another when they need them.” Clay looked at me with a stark hopelessness that freaked me out more than anything had so far. What in the world could make him feel like that?

He slowly laid down on the floor, tucking his chin into his chest and stared at the wall, closing in on himself. It was clear our talking was done. So I did the only thing I could. I grabbed a blanket off of his bed and pulled it over us and I lay on the floor beside him. I carefully put my arm over his waist and snuggled into his back. His clothes were still damp and they made me a little cold, but I held on anyway.

Clayton was rigid for a moment and then he relaxed into my arms, reaching up and lacing his fingers through mine. We lay like that for what felt like an eternity. Me wrapped around the boy I had grown to love as we drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Chapter Eight

The beeping of my phone pulled me out of sleep the next morning. I awoke in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. I spent a few moments extremely confused. I sat up, the blanket falling away from me. Then it all came flooding back. The party, Clay jumping out of the tree, his massive freak out after I brought him home. And, finally, us falling asleep together on the floor.

I was alone in Clayton's bedroom. The house was silent and I gave a quick thanks that my parents thought I was spending the night with Rachel. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw that I had fifteen new text messages.

Scrolling through them I saw that most were from Rachel, who demanded to know where I was. There were a few from Daniel as well. The last one was from ten minutes ago. It was Rachel, again, threatening to call my parents if I didn't call her back in fifteen minutes.

Shit! I hurriedly dialed her number and she picked up on the first ring. “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!?” She screeched into the phone. I pulled the receiver away from my ear. “Jeesh, calm down, Rachel.” I said. “Calm down!?! CALM DOWN?!? I have been worried sick! You disappeared from the party! I get a text saying you left with Clay! I tried calling you a bazillion times, and no answer! You never make it to my house! And I'm supposed to CALM DOWN?!?!?!?”

Wow, she was really angry. “I'm sorry. But Clay was going through some stuff. I ended up staying with him last night.” There was dead silence on the other end. “You stayed with Clay? At his house?” She asked, her tone changing to one that said she wanted the dirt and she wanted it pronto.

“Not like that. He just needed a friend.” I ran my fingers through my hair and my tongue over my teeth. Gross. Morning breath.

“So you're telling me that you spent all night with Clayton Reed and NOTHING happened? I call bullshit.” Rachel was like a dog after a bone and she wasn't about to give up. Thank god I was saved by the sudden appearance of Clay in the door way. He was already up and showered and he looked amazing for first thing in the morning. His eyes met mine and my heart thumped painfully.

“Uh, Rach, I've gotta go. I'll call you a little later.” “Uh uh, you tell me...” I hung up on her. Yeah, I'd get chewed out for that later but at that moment I didn't care. I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. I was suddenly very self-conscious of my less than fresh faced morning appearance. I hoped my mascara hadn't smudged acrossed my face in my sleep.