BLAKE
~I canât believe it.~
~
That thought kept looping in my mind as I sat on the small couch in Claireâs secret shed, my arms wrapped around her waist.
Claire was the White Wolf. Claire. The schoolâs nerd, the supposed goody-two-shoes overachiever. Claire was the fierce, ruthless White Wolf.
I had never pictured White Wolf as Claire. But now, thinking back, I could see her dark, hate-filled eyes.
Those same eyes I had seen before. When Ashley led me to the alley, I was puzzled at first, until I saw a girl walk in.
She seemed familiar, but I couldnât see her face.
When Poisonous Silver walked in, I instantly knew it was White Wolf. I was bracing myself for a fight, but I froze when I heard her name: Claire.
After that, everything was a blur. The only thing I clearly remember was Claire, or White Wolf, taking down two other guys after Poisonous Silver.
Everything was just so confusing after that.
But I was determined. I was set on getting answers tonight. It was when I demanded answers from Claire that I realized there were two sides to her: White Wolf and Claire.
White Wolf was who she was then. White Wolf is the stubborn, fierce boxer who doesnât take crap from anyone, including me.
While Claire was the stubborn, cold, and mean âgood girlâ at school, I had only caught snippets of her conversation with Poisonous Silver.
I heard about her suicide attempt and her parents rejecting her.
The suicide attempt was the only shocker, though. I had never expected Claire to try something as dangerous as that. The only question: What had she done in her suicide attempt?
âBlake?â Claireâs soft whisper broke my thoughts.
She was playing with my fingers as she lay on my chest.
âYeah?â I whispered back, still trying to process everything.
âYouâre thinking too much,â she said, not even looking up at me.
I furrowed my eyebrows, looking down at her. âHowâd you know?â I asked, surprised she could tell without even looking at my face.
She chuckled lightly. âI can tell,â she paused, closing her eyes.
âYouâre always really quiet and your eyes always seem to be looking at the sky or ceiling, as if itâs the most interesting thing in the world.â She yawned. I couldnât blame her; it was past nine already.
After a few more kisses, we had just decided to sit in comfortable silence. Her eyes closed every now and then, as several yawns escaped her lush, pink lips.
Her lips had felt so warm and soft on my own. It felt like they belonged there.
She looked so desirable when she was shouting that I lost it and kissed her. And maybe it wasnât the best moment, but I didnât care.
She had kissed me back, and that was all I needed to continue kissing her.
It was really shocking how we both knew this probably wasnât a good idea, but neither one of us cared at the moment. I had told my mother Iâd fight for her, and I never break a promise.
âBlake?â she asked.
âHm?â I replied, laying my head on her shoulder, sighing in content at how blissful this moment was.
She paused before speaking. âIâm so confused,â she said, her voice telling me she had been thinking everything through as well. âI mean, about us. It was just a kiss, and then,â she trailed off. âThis.â She referred to us lying together.
I chuckled and kissed her head. âI know. But would you believe me if I said Iâve always wanted to kiss you?â I asked, telling the truth.
When I first saw her, I felt an instant attraction. I just never acted on it. I was too focused on my school status to even think about it.
But now that Iâve finally tasted her lips, thereâs no way I can hold back anymore. Iâm done waiting, and Iâm done fighting it. I like Claire. I. Like. Claire.
A simple sentence that means so much.
Claireâs head snapped to meet my eyes. Her face was unreadable, as always, as she searched my own face. She was trying to find any hints of a lie, but I knew I wasnât lying.
When it seemed as if Claire didnât find any traces of lies within my face, she slowly nodded and placed her head back on my chest.
âBlake, I donât think you really know what youâre getting yourself into.â She yawned again.
Just as I was about to ask what she meant by that, her eyes closed and her breathing evened, telling me she was asleep.
With a deep, heavy sigh, I kissed her head once more, tightened my grip around her waist, and closed my eyes. Falling asleep on the small couch, with Claire in my arms. Something I never imagined would happen.
CLAIRE
I woke up early the next morning. I knew I was with Blake. And I knew that we were okay. We had both texted our parents, telling them that weâd be spending the night at a friendâs house.
I was wrapped protectively in Blakeâs arms. And as good as it felt, it didnât stop the thoughts racing through my head.
~Was it worth risking his life? Did he truly like me? Or was he just like James: Selfish and betraying? Should I even take the chance to let my heart love again, just for it to be broken in the end if something happens?~
~
In the end, I felt that, maybe, just maybe, I could trust Blake. It was a war between my head and my heart. My head, being the rational one, saying not to take the chance, and that he could be killed in the end.
Whereas my heart, being the most affected by this, was practically screaming at me to give love a second chance. To let my heart feel again, feel loved and appreciated.
I still couldnât decide, though. I didnât know whether to run or stay in his arms. In the end, though, my mind won over.
With skillful movement, I unwrapped myself from Blakeâs arms and stood from the couch. Looking down, I smiled lightly, watching as Blakeâs chest rose and fell evenly.
His hair was tousled everywhere, and his lips were parted slightly. It made me want to lean down and press my lips against his, to feel the warmth, the gentleness, the softness of the kiss.
My fingers traced over my bottom lip, the lingering sensation of his kiss from the night before still present.
I shook my head, reaching for a small blanket to drape over his shivering form. Guilt washed over me, a tidal wave of remorse for leaving him.
I glanced around the room, my eyes landing on a napkin and a black pen. I pressed the thin paper against the rough wall and began to write.
~Blake, ~
~
~I left at eight in the morning. I had something I needed to do. Iâm sorry I didnât wake you, but you looked so peaceful sleeping. I just thought I should let you know, so you donât worry.~
~
~Claire~
~
I placed the note next to his phone on the nightstand. Unable to resist, I leaned down and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.
I savored the brief contact, the feel of his lips against mine, before pulling away and leaving the shed.
Regret hit me instantly. I felt terrible for leaving Blake alone, but I knew I needed time to figure out what I really wanted.
The choice was clear: take a risk and endanger his life, or stay away from him and try to live as normal a life as possible. Even if he knew my secret now.
I needed to weigh the pros and cons. The pros were that Iâd be happy and my heart would get to feel ~loved~ again.
The cons were that Iâd be risking Blakeâs life, Iâd be constantly worried when I wasnât with him, and Iâd also be risking my own heart in the process.
The safest option seemed to be to stay away from Blake. I had been naive to think we could be together. Iâll admit it to myself, I like him. I. Like. Blake.
I care about him. I care too much to let him get hurt because of me. Iâd rather have Blake hate me forever and stay safe, than be with me and have to worry about his safety all the time.
Weâre polar opposites, and while I know the saying, âOpposites attract,â thatâs only in fairy tales.
In reality, thereâs no such thing as a happy ending. There will always be fights, arguments, something will always go wrong just when things start to get good. I learned that the hard way.
Things were going well with my parents when I was younger, then something happened and they started ignoring me.
I had a great best friend who I thought would always be there for me, then she got jealous and I ruined the friendship with my stubbornness.
Things were going well with James and me, then he cheated on me with Ashley and I was left heartbroken. I had started boxing, just to beat Logan and now heâs after me.
And I was slowly starting to let my guard down with Blake, just when everything from my past caught up with me, and I realized: ~Iâd never be safe~.
No matter where I was or who I was with, something from my past would always come back to haunt me. I could never be truly happy.
My life could never be like the normal life every girl dreams of: A loving husband, a family, a job. I wouldnât get that. And it was all my fault.
If I had never started boxing, maybe my life would be different. Maybe James and Logan wouldnât be after me. Maybe Blake and I could actually try to be together. Maybe, Iâd be happy.
I hung my head as I continued walking. I didnât really know where I was going, my legs were just ~moving.~
I wandered aimlessly through the alleys, not really having a destination in mind. But after about half an hour, I found myself standing in front of a pond.
My head had been down the entire time. So, when I looked up, I was surprised to find that I had walked through the woods and into a clearing.
Even though it was already February 3 in Montana and slightly chilly, there wasnât much snow. It was only 38 degrees Fahrenheit. The grass was a dull, lifeless brown: dead.
The grass was dead, and as I looked at the woods and trees behind me, I saw the dead leaves on the ground. The pond in front of me was undoubtedly freezing cold.
But somehow, even in the cold, this place had a calming effect. A sense of tranquility as the wind blew my hair from my face.
With my hand in my pocket, I sat down on the cold, dead grass, staring blankly at the wide pond in front of me. As the wind continued to blow, it created ripples in the water.
It reminded me of those times youâd throw a rock into the water, and it would create a rippling pattern. Each wave or ripple larger than the last.
The water looked clean, fresh, and beautiful. I felt calm and relaxed here. It felt like I didnât have any problems to deal with or worry about. Like everything was right in the world.
I leaned my back against the rough bark of the tree behind me and sat in silence, staring out into space, for what felt like hours.
When my back began to ache from sitting in the same position for too long, I pulled out my phone, finally breaking my gaze from the water.
My eyes widened at the time: 10:08 a.m. It had been about two hours since I left. I hadnât even received any messages from Blake.
A wave of hurt washed over me, but I quickly pushed it aside. ~That was good. Itâd just make everything easier.~
I told myself, closing my eyes tightly.
I stood up, stretching my stiff, aching limbs and brushing off the dirt that had clung to me. After one last glance at the pond, I turned on my heel, ready to go home.
As I approached the steps to my front door, I heard yelling. It was my parents. I slowed my pace, listening.
âYou canât do this to me! You canât!â I heard my mom scream, her voice breaking.
âIsabelle. Get off me. Now,â my dad shouted, his voice harsh and demanding. My heart skipped a beat. My dad had never called my mother by her full name unless he was really angry.
He usually called her Lizzy, or even his Love. But it was rare when he used her full name.
âPlease, Anthony. You canât do this to me, to ~us,~â my mother pleaded.
âWhat about your ~daughter~? Huh? What would she say about this? How is she going to react to all of this?â my mother shouted, her voice filled with anger.
âThat ~daughter~ of yours is no daughter to me. The little ~brat~ tried everything she could to get our attention. Sheâs an attention seeker.â
I heard the venom in my dadâs voice, and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes at his hurtful words. But nothing could prepare me for what was to come next.
âMy girl isnât a brat! Sheâs an angel! Sheâs been trying for years to win back our ~love~!â Momâs voice echoed through the house.
âSure, sheâs your little Princess! But how do you think your precious ~Princess~ will react when she learns her ~Daddy~ is ditching her mom for another woman!?â