Chapter 22: Chapter 21. Now There’s the Blake I Know

CLAIRE

As the day drew to a close, I ambled towards my locker, my mind a whirlpool of thoughts about Blake and our lunchtime encounter.

Should I let him in? Should I risk his life by keeping him close? Should I spill the beans about White Wolf? Or should I just give him the cold shoulder and hope he gets the hint?

He’s got to move on at some point, right? He can’t keep this up forever.

Just as I was closing my locker, Blake sauntered over, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he met my gaze. I brushed my bangs aside, clearing my view of him.

As he stood before me, his smirk broadened.

“Ready?” He asked, just as Nick joined us.

I quickly averted my gaze from Nick. I’d been extra careful around him, worried he might see a resemblance between me and White Wolf.

Nick was a big deal around here, and he hadn’t been in a fight since White Wolf took him down. I figured he was too embarrassed.

“Hey man, want to come over?” Nick asked, oblivious to my presence, which was fine by me.

Blake shook his head, nodding towards me. “No, I was taking Claire somewhere,” he said, his smirk returning.

Nick finally noticed me and gave a nod.

I felt a twinge of discomfort under his gaze, but I made sure it didn’t show.

“You know,” he began. “You look a lot hotter up close,” he said, grinning.

I shot him a glare at his comment.

With a huff, I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “Pervert,” I muttered under my breath.

He chuckled, turning back to Blake.

“I can see why you’re busy. Just remember,” Nick said, feigning seriousness. “Use protection.” And with that, he was gone.

I could feel my face heating up as I glared at his retreating figure.

I glanced up at Blake, noticing a faint blush on his cheeks. I couldn’t help but smirk.

~Look who’s uncomfortable now~, I thought, smugly.

Blake cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, ready,” he mumbled.

I hid my smirk and nodded. “Yup,” I replied, popping the P.

He nodded back, and we left the school, heading towards his black 2012 Ford Fusion.

Once we were both buckled in, I turned to Blake. “So, where’re we going?” I asked, placing my bag on the floor in front of me.

He smirked, glancing at me. “Now then, where’s the fun in ruining the surprise?” he said.

I rolled my eyes, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“Yeah, whatever,” I mumbled.

Half an hour later, Blake pulled into a deserted parking lot. All I could see were woods and trees.

I raised an eyebrow at Blake.

“Is this where I find out you’re a serial killer and you’re going to drag me into the woods to murder me?” I asked, my words laced with humor.

He nodded, a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Oh no.” He shook his head. “That’s too much work. I just put a bullet in their head and walk away.” He shrugged.

I chuckled, hoping he was joking.

“But no. I didn’t drive you half an hour away from school just to kill you in the woods. There’s something I want to show you,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt.

I nodded, unbuckling my own seat belt and stepping out of the car.

As I closed the door, Blake locked it and took my hand.

A jolt of electricity shot up my arm, my heart rate quickened, and I suddenly felt self-conscious.

I tried to keep my breathing steady as Blake led me, hand-in-hand, to his secret spot. All the while, I was wrestling with my jumbled feelings.

I’d never felt this way with James. There were no sparks, no self-consciousness when we touched.

Sure, I felt warm and a little nervous, but it was never like this. I’d never felt this way with James, and I thought I loved him. Now, I was questioning my “love” for James.

I knew I didn’t love Blake. That was certain. Maybe it was just a schoolgirl crush that would fade with time, right?

Just as that thought crossed my mind, Blake stopped. I nearly bumped into him, but managed to keep my balance.

I tried to see what he was looking at, but he was blocking my view. I huffed.

“Why’d we stop?” I asked, curiosity piqued.

Finally, he turned around. “This way,” he said, taking my hand again.

I looked ahead and frowned. “There’s nothing but trees and grass in front of us.” I pointed out, gesturing to the bushes, trees, grass, and sticks on the ground.

Suddenly, a genuine smile spread across his face.

“Come on.” He led me through a small opening in the woods that I hadn’t even noticed.

We pushed past branches and bushes until we stopped again.

I glanced at Blake. He was smiling again. And somehow, it made my heart flutter and a smile spread across my face. It was rare to see Blake truly smile, just like me.

Feeling my gaze, he turned his head. His smile widened a little as he saw my grin. “This is where I like to go to think,” he said, gesturing to the space in front of us.

I arched an eyebrow, but turned to look. A gasp escaped my lips as I took in the view from the hill we were standing on.

We lived in Evergreen, Montana. A small but beautiful city. From here, I could see the tall buildings and the cars rushing down the roads.

Tall trees and bushes framed the city, making it look like an island.

I smiled. “It looks much better at night, but I figured you wouldn’t come willingly with me tonight so I thought, ‘why wait’?” Blake shrugged, smiling as he watched my awestruck expression.

“It’s breathtaking. I can only imagine how it looks at night,” I murmured, picturing the scene bathed in moonlight.

Blake agreed. “It’s even more stunning when it’s dark. The lights are all on and when you look up, the stars are scattered across the sky.” He flashed a grin.

My smile widened as I envisioned the nighttime spectacle.

“So,” I turned to him, “you mentioned you come here to think. What about?” I asked, internally berating myself.

~Claire, what are you doing? You’re supposed to be steering clear of him, not prying into his personal thoughts!~

He swiveled to face me, his dark hair swept aside by the wind that was picking up around us. Then, he took my hand again and crouched down, pulling me with him.

A surprised yelp escaped my lips as he tugged me down too quickly, causing me to lose my balance and tumble onto him as we hit the ground.

My cheeks flamed with embarrassment and I buried my face in his chest, inhaling a scent of wood and fire.

Normally, I detest the smell of burning wood, but on Blake, it was strangely appealing, especially mingled with the scent of fire.

His chest rumbled with laughter. Slowly, I lifted my gaze, looking up at him through my lashes.

His laughter ceased and he just stared at me. I wanted to look away, but his stormy, grey eyes held mine captive. I loved looking into his eyes.

They reminded me of the way white clouds darken to a stormy grey before a rainstorm. I loved the rain. It always had a calming effect on me.

And then, he began to lean in. Instinctively, I leaned in too. The shrill ring of a phone broke our trance.

I quickly scrambled away from him, trying to steady my breathing and slow my racing heart.

Blake pushed himself up, clearing his throat awkwardly as he gestured to my pockets.

“I think that’s your phone,” he said, avoiding my gaze.

I paused, recognizing the familiar ringtone. “Shit,” I muttered, fishing in my pocket for my phone.

I was both relieved and annoyed that our moment had been interrupted. I pushed those thoughts aside as I answered the call.

“Hello?” My voice was raspy, but I didn’t care.

“Claire, sweetheart, where are you?” The worry in my mom’s voice was palpable.

My eyes widened and I shot up. I closed my eyes, feeling foolish for forgetting to call them.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you. I’m with a… friend?” I said, more of a question than a statement. I looked up to see a smirk playing on Blake’s lips.

I narrowed my eyes at him, suspicious of his amusement.

I heard a sigh of relief on the other end. “That’s fine. I was just worried. School ended over an hour ago and you still weren’t home,” she said.

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “I’ll be back soon, I promise,” I assured her.

“Alright, sweetheart. Oh, and I won’t be here when you get back. I have to work late again. Your father is in bed, he wasn’t feeling well. But I’ll be home around midnight. Love you. Bye.”

Before I could respond, she hung up.

I ended the call. My mom has always been the one to express her love verbally. She doesn’t really take me places, but she always tells me she loves me.

My dad still says goodnight when he’s sober and is still battling his alcoholism, but it’s more than they’ve ever shown me, and that’s enough.

“Claire?” Blake’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I blinked, suddenly aware of my surroundings. “Yeah?” I shook my head, clearing my mind.

His eyes narrowed. “You okay? Who was that?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No one. Just no one.” I sighed, suddenly feeling drained.

He nodded. “So”—a grin spread across his face—“I’m your friend?” He asked, glancing at me.

I turned my head, feeling my cheeks heat up as I remembered telling my mom I was with a friend. I shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to call you,” I admitted.

He shrugged in return. “But, did you mean it? Am I really your friend?” he asked. I looked up at him, noticing a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

I pondered over it. Should I let him in? Should I allow him to be my friend? Is it worth risking his life?

The more I thought about it, the more I leaned towards yes. I have a guarded heart, so it would take some time for him to worm his way in. It would give me enough time to figure out if he would betray my trust or keep it.

Finally, I nodded. “Yeah, I meant it,” I confirmed.

He smiled again. “Good, I like to think of you as my friend too. A hot friend, but a friend nonetheless,” he joked.

I rolled my eyes. ~There’s the Blake I know.~

“Alright.” I settled down next to him. “Want to tell me what you think about now?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

He shrugged and gazed out at the sky. The sun was still up, but it was nearing sunset.

“Life, I guess.” He began. “It’s just my dad. He always wanted a perfect son. But instead, he got me. He always wanted a son to take over his companies when he got older.”

I interrupted him. “Since when does your dad own any companies?” I asked, surprised.

He shrugged again. “Since always. I just never told anyone. I didn’t see the point. He owns a few minor companies.

“He’s rarely home, and we’re not ~that~ wealthy. At least, not like those major CEO owners who make millions every day. But he does make a decent amount every week.

“He’s just so hard to please, you know? No matter what I do, it’s never good enough. He’s always got something to say about it,” he says, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“My mom, though, she’s always been there for me. And when Anya, my little sister, came along, he started to...well, he started to interact with us more. But Anya was always his favorite.” He gives a small, bitter smile.

“I never held it against Anya, though. I love her, always have. It’s just...I can’t help but feel a little jealous that she’s his favorite. That’s all.

“I never wanted anything bad to happen to Anya. She’s a daddy’s girl, and there’s nothing I can do about that.” Blake shrugs.

“But I guess I was always a mommy’s boy.” He grins.

“After Anya was born, things started to change. I began hanging out with different people and I wasn’t around my family as much. Especially my dad.” He pauses.

“I’m still there for my mom and sister whenever they need me, I’m just not home as much. So, whenever my dad is home, we always end up in a shouting match.

“And then we both just leave the house. Most of the time I come here, sometimes I go for a run, but I usually end up here,” he finishes.

I sit there, stunned. I’d asked him what he came here to think about, not expecting him to spill his whole life story. ‘Life’ would’ve been a fine answer to me.

He turns his head to look at me. “So, you feel neglected.” I state, more than ask.

“Yeah. I mean, wouldn’t you?” he asks.

I nod, looking out into the sky again. “I know how that feels,” I mumble, pulling my knees close to my body and resting my head on them.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

I shrug. “I’ve always felt like an outsider. My parents were great when I was little, the kind of parents every kid would want.

“But when I was about six, things started to change. My dad lost his job and started drinking.

“My mom was the only one working, but she started smoking. When I was younger, my parents were so in love. They spent every second they could with each other, and then...something changed.

“They started fighting more, disagreeing on everything. I could never get a good night’s sleep without hearing them shouting at each other.

“Eventually, they just stopped caring. About everything, including me. They barely even looked at me, and I had to grow up faster than most kids.” I let out a bitter laugh.

“By the time I was ten, I was walking to and from school by myself. I knew how to cook, and I did all the cleaning. I even took care of my dad when he was drunk and my mom when she was smoking. I took care of them both.

“I think I was always a mommy’s girl, though,” I smiled. “My mom was the only one who ever made an effort to show me any affection. But I still felt neglected.”

I paused, remembering all the hurtful things my dad had said to me when he was drunk.

Sometimes my mom would try to defend me; other times she’d just say that he didn’t mean it, that it was the alcohol talking. But he never remembered anything the next morning.

I shook my head, pushing those memories away. “Eventually, I got used to the rejection and just lived with it. I still took care of my parents. Made them dinner, did the laundry, cleaned the house, all that.” I waved my hand dismissively.

“Wow,” Blake says.

I glance over at him; he’s staring at me with a stunned expression. I just shrug. “I’m used to it. I’m used to the looks of disgust and feeling rejected. I’ve been through it all.” I sigh, looking back out at the sky.

The sun was starting to set, and the air was getting colder. The wind picked up, blowing my hair to the side.

“Um…” He trails off.

I chuckle. “It’s okay. You don’t have to feel sorry for me. I don’t need your pity,” I tell him.

After a few moments of silence, he speaks again. “So, what are you doing for Christmas?” he asks.

I shrug. “Not much. I don’t really celebrate it on the day. My mom usually gets me a present a few days after Christmas, but she often forgets. I don’t blame her. She’s got a lot on her plate,” I say.

Blake scoffs. “What? Her job? That’s it. You’re the one taking care of everything! You’re basically the mother of the household!” Blake exclaims.

I just shrug in response.

“Well, since we’re friends, maybe you could come over to my house for Christmas. My mom won’t mind,” he suggests.

I look up at him. “What about your dad?” I ask, unsure of what to say.

He smiles. “On Christmas, we usually don’t fight. I promise they’ll love you. Please,” he whispers.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Hmm,” I grin. “Well, since you said ‘please,’ sure.” I say playfully, a smile tugging at my lips. He grins back, and then, I find myself snuggling into his side.

He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this affectionate,” I can hear the smirk in his voice.

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. “It’s cold,” is all I say.