Even though he answered my questions, I saw his walls up. His face seemed guarded and his eyes looked dead. He answered me, sure. But he wasn’t opening up to me. I had to pry his answers to my questions out of him. He wasn’t freely talking about anything. My questions were carrying this conversation. And I knew that if I stopped them, he’d stop talking.
Which pissed me off.
I heard my voice growing icier and felt myself becoming distant. I didn’t want my anger to become the focus of this conversation. But I couldn't help it. I was hurt. Angry with his father. Angry with Clint for pushing me away and frustrated with my mother and the bullshit she kept pulling with D.J. I’d lost the only person in my life who understood me. The only person who seemed to get what I was going through. Talking with Michael and Allison didn’t feel the same anymore because they came from great families. Parents that were still married. Two-income households with parents that worked jobs that made them happy. They didn’t understand what I was going through. Clint did, though.
And it pissed me off that he’d taken that away from me.
He kept pushing me away. Pushing my advice away. Trying to get me to stop helping him under the guise that I didn’t have to. I wanted to smack him across his face. Despite how much of a terrible person that made me. I wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him until he got it. Until he understood that breaking up with me was the worst possible thing he could’ve done during something like this.
I didn’t have the energy, though.
I cleared my throat. “I’m serious. I’ll talk to your teacher. I’ll make sure you can still keep up.”
He nodded mindlessly. “Thanks.”
“And as far as your possessions go, I’m sure there are things you’d love to get rid of. Use that to your advantage.”
“I will.”
“Call the
lawyer you spoke to as well. I’m sure he’d have some great advice on how to proceed next. Or even if what your father’s doing is legal.”
“I’m sure.”
I sighed. “And if he doesn’t, I’m sure he can point you in the right direction.”
He blinked. “Yeah.”
“Clint?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you going to even look at me?”
He slowly panned his gaze over to mine, and I found his nose wrinkled. Like something up above us stunk. There was this look of disgust on his face that made my heart sink. He didn’t even want me there. He didn’t want me near him. Talking to him. Interacting with him. It was as if our relationship had reverted back to its normal ground. Square one, with him being an absolute asshat and me getting stuck in his crosshairs.
Still, I pressed on.
“What your father’s doing is wrong. What he’s doing to you and your stepmom is downright despicable. Fight him. Fight him on it. And I’ll be here if you need anything.”
His eyes met mine. “Thanks, Rae. really. I’ll take your advice into account. But Cecilia and I got this. We can handle it.”
His words burned. I felt the crack of the imaginary slap across my cheek. He stood from his chair and my eyes followed him, watching as he rolled his shoulders back. I saw the last of his walls drop down. Like iron bars trapping him into his own little corner. His arms extended above his head and I hated myself for how my eyes lingered. The skin of his lower back came into view. Those cute little dimples that sat just above his buttbone greeted me. Called to my fingertips. I closed my eyes and shook the thoughts away. Clint wasn’t mine anymore. I had no right to see him that way.
But I deserved an answer to the question running around in my head.
“Clint, do you really want things between us t—”
“Clinton? I need you. It’s imperative.”
Cecilia’s voice interjected into my question and Clint whipped around. I stood up, facing his stepmother as she covered herself up. She held her silken robe closed, her hair a disheveled mess. She looked terrible, for lack of a better word. Like she hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep in weeks.
Clint strode to her. “What's wrong?”
But her eyes fell to me. “I need to borrow him for a second. I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “No, no. It’s fine. You seem flustered. I hope everything’s okay.”