Clarice’s Obsession
by Emily Alvarado
University of the Incarnate Word
Emily Alvarado is an undergrad at the University of the Incarnate Word set to graduate in 2028. She is an English major with a double minor in Creative Writing and Communications. She loves to write fiction with wild and imaginative premises, and she especially likes to make funny and epic stories to be shared with all ages.
For a long time, I thought that love was some abstract thing that came to you suddenly. I thought that it was something you had to wait for, and then it’d hit you like a truck. That way is way more romantic sounding, sans the truck, and way less work than other methods. But if there’s one thing I learned from high school, it’s that love is actually a tangible thing that you have to find yourself. If it weren’t for all the work I have to put in, I think I might enjoy this more.
Hey, that continent looks kinda like a man’s face—wait. What was I saying? I forgot. Anyways...
Class is this close to being over, but I can’t wait that long. No one even likes history, just the nerds. Well, except for Daren. He’s so smart. I need to say it again: Daren. Him. Oh, just the name alone could make me swoon; you know, if I wasn’t sitting on a desk chair. You know that part of the relationship where both the girl and the guy just can’t stop staring into each other’s eyes and giggling? I don’t think I ever grew out of that for him, and that’s fine with me. I could stay in that phase forever. Gosh, now I want to talk to him again, but Ms. Faire is still going. Class time takes away from our time, and what better solution to this tiny problem than to talk to him during lecture? Just not out loud, no – don't want to get caught by the teacher again.
I write on a little pink sticky note with a precision and artistic passion only comparable to the likes of Shakespeare. Actually, I think Shakespeare would be quaking in his boots if he read what I was writing. My silver ring catches the sunlight and beams onto my face, but I don’t care. A heart-shaped blind spot in my right eye is pretty romantic, I think. Finally finished writing the note, I tap on Daren’s shoulder. He glances back briefly but quickly turns back to the teacher, and all I can see is his dusty brown hair. Ahem. I tap his shoulder again, this time with some extra force. Daren finally sticks his hand out behind him. Yes! I fold it up into a heart and neatly place it in his hand. When Daren opens it up, it reads in cursive red ink:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAREN!!! <3
Daren sighs, but I know he’s not tired of hearing that. I only congratulated him 12 times yesterday.
“Really, Clarice?” He whispers harshly.
I blow a kiss to him and wave. I didn’t even notice the teacher was standing right in front of him, and I don’t think Daren noticed either. She snatches the letter out of Daren’s hand. How rude!
“Excuse me,” Ms. Faire says, “Is there a problem here?” Her eyes are narrow and furrowed.
“I dunno. Is there a problem?” I respond.
Apparently, there was a problem because we spent the next 15 minutes after class in the principal’s office. But I still know how to tug on Principal Barne’s heartstrings; he can’t stand hearing my stories about my long-deceased pets. Whether it was my pony or my goldfish, or if it happened 10 years ago, he always sheds a tear and forgets to lecture me. Just a girl’s charm.
Anyway, we’re finally let go from the office and left to roam free in the halls. They are mostly empty, since most of the other kids have left now.
“Clarice,” Daren says, “Sooner or later, the principal is going to stop falling for your ‘tragic’ story about your dead hamster from 3rd grade. I’m surprised he still falls for it.”
“He doesn’t have to know the specifics,” I respond. I look at my silver ring on my hand. “Also, it was a very traumatic experience that still haunts me to this day! Hamsters don’t ordinarily burst into flames. When your dog dies, I’ll teach you how to weave a heart-wrenching narrative so you can always get out of trouble.”
Daren gives me a look. It’s a mix of concern and passion, I can tell.
We approach the lockers at the end of the hallway closest to the front doors. His locker has a few basketball stickers on it. Stickers of famous people in the sport and such. I wouldn’t know. I’m not into that stuff. Mine is the one right next to it, smothered in pink glitter and strawberry-scented Hello Kitty stickers.
Daren opens his locker, which blocks my view of him. He didn’t mean to, so I just swing around to the other side.
“But enough about the past; let’s talk about you!” I shout. Daren looks away again, so I reframe myself in his sight. “17 years old! “Big changes are coming!”
“Clarice, you said the exact same thing on my 16th birthday.” Daren reaches into the locker for his headphones.
“I know,” I squeal as I gasp with excitement, “But hey, we should go out tonight! I’ll buy you something, take you out to lunch, and we could hang out.”
“Clair, we’re in public school. We’re poor,” Daren swings his backpack over his shoulder and slips his headphones on. “I mean, unless you’re still working at Wendy’s, then maybe...”
“Yeah, funny thing about Wendy’s,” I say, putting my shoulders up and my head down, “I’m in an early retirement.”
“You got fired?”
“Fired is when they tell you to leave. Retirement is quitting with money and a plan.”
Daren brushes his hand through his hair. He does that when he’s kind of stressed.
“Look, my birthday is not until Friday, but if you think you have the money,” he says while drifting off and becoming dazed.
“Don’t worry, I have plenty of money. If inflation didn’t exist, I’d be rich! Now, let’s talk about what you want to do on your birthday. Do you want to—Daren? Daren?”
It took me a second to realize that Daren wasn’t listening to me anymore. He isn’t even looking at me. But I can see what he’s enamored by.
There, across the hallway, stands a beautiful girl. Her caramel hair and hazel eyes make her look like a fairy. Maybe even a goddess. That’s probably what Daren is thinking. She waves at us. Daren waves back. The heck? I feel something churn in my chest. My heart beats really fast and my forehead sweats. But this isn’t love; no, I know what that feels like. This is that feeling when someone cuts you off in traffic, or when you remember you have community service on a Saturday. NO, this is worse. Daren knows her, and she knows him. This isn’t what I think it is... is it?
Daren and I walk home like we always do. Well actually, I have to walk him home. I would love it if he could walk me to my house, but he lives closer to school, and he doesn’t want to be walking back and forth every day. At least I don’t mind much.
The houses on the street are decorated with scarecrows and signs with words like “Grateful” and “Thanksgiving” on it. Every house has carved pumpkins on their porches, except for mine. Through the crisp breeze, we walk close together. I keep having to catch up to Daren, and every time I do, I can almost hear him sigh. He’s just messing around, though.
As we approach his little house, with its rugged shingles and rusty garage door, I rub my shoulder up against his.
I need to start subtly. “So-o-o, who was that girl in the hallway?”
Daren side-eyes me. “That’s just Renda. She was a classmate of mine back in middle school.”
“Oh, really?” I take off my ring to play with it. “How come you never told me about her before?”
“Clarice, I’m really tired,” he sighs. “Just don’t worry, all right?” Not the ideal response, but I think we’re getting somewhere.
He walks up his cobbled concrete sidewalk and into his house.
“Oh, well, see you tomorrow! Love you!” I yell at him, but the door swings shut before he could respond.
With the sundown, the street feels colder. A frosty breeze blows through. My heart begins to feel cold as well. But I keep myself warm with thoughts of Daren. I put my ring, cold from the wind, back onto my finger. My hand shivers. It’s alright. This is nothing. This will probably be something we laugh about by tomorrow.
The morning went by fast. Dad left for his business trip, mom left for work, and I skipped breakfast to get to school. I knew I was worried about something, but I completely forgot what it was about. All I could remember was that I needed to get to school to talk to Daren about something. Oh, well. I’ll probably remember when I get there.
Bursting through the doors of the school, I push past the crowded halls. Usually, Daren is able to clear the way for me, but for some reason, he wasn’t waiting for me at the front doors like he always is. Okay, maybe not always, but definitely most of the time. I bump into a few people, including this big guy wearing a baseball cap.
“Excuse me, sorry!” he says.
Excuse you is right. I finally squeeze through the annoying crowd of annoying people only to see—
“Haha! You’re so funny, Daren,” she laughs.
Gasp! What is this? At the end of the hall, Daren and “Renda” are talking?! But they aren’t just talking; they’re LAUGHING together. And to top it off, they’re only standing a ½ foot apart – definitely NOT acquaintance-level conduct.
This is too much; I waste no time running up to Daren. I can’t lose him. I won’t lose him. Especially not to some Disney Channel protagonist. Even running towards them, they STILL don’t see me!
“Renda, are you sure? I don’t want to make it all about me,” says Daren.
Renda’s voice was like a dove’s. “Don’t worry. My parents won’t even be around to—”
In I go! I close off the bridge between her and Daren, hitting my elbow against the wall. They’re both startled.
Out of breath, I shout, “Good morning, Daren! Happy Birthday!”
Daren sighs, “Jeez! As much as I appreciate the congratulations, we’re still a day away, Clarice.”
I look under my elbow. EW! Daren and Renda are holding hands! I immediately shoved my own long, cotton-candy pink nails into their interlocked fingers and took hold of Daren’s hand.
“Anyway... What’s up, Daren? You make any plans for your birthday yet?”
For once, Daren sounds just a tiny bit mad. “Well, I was talking to Renda, since you just have to know.”
Renda politely holds her hand out for a handshake. I’d say she has manners like a princess if she actually had a manicure done.
“Hello, Clarice,” she says in a sweet, sweet voice; somehow sweeter than mine. “I think we have the same art class together. I had no idea you and Daren knew each other.”
“You- HAHA! Really?!” I swear I was trying to put together a cohesive response, but for some reason, everyone in the hall was looking at me now. I guess I managed to be a bit loud. “Really?” I say after composing myself, “Daren didn’t tell you that we were together?” I grip his arm and pull him closer. “Whatever. It was nice to meet you, but Daren and ME have to plan his birthday together.” I’m finally able to drag him away. Just then, Renda says –
“Actually, Daren’s coming over to my house tomorrow.”
Jaw drops. Eyes shoot open. Heart skips a beat. A couple of years just got knocked out of my lifespan.
“You. What?!”
Daren yanks his arm out of my grip. “I wanted to do something different this year, Clair. Renda’s having a party while her parents are away, and she invited me over for my birthday.”
“B-But I throw parties, too! Remember 4th of July? When I got you guys those fireworks?”
“Lay off, Clair. It’s just a party.”
I was too shocked to respond, but Daren goes off walking with Renda and the two continue talking. I try to call out to him, but the school bell rings, drowning out my voice. The hallway traffic starts, moving around me until Daren and, ugh, Renda disappear. When the halls clear and everyone is in class, I’m left by myself in the middle of the hallway. No way. No way, I just lost. What am I going to do?
After school, I noticed Daren walking Renda home. Turns out, she lives just a few houses down from the school. Naturally, I hid out in the yellow carnations growing on her front lawn, using my phone as makeshift binoculars, just to see what they’d do. Surely, nothing much, right?
They arrive at the house. I open up the camera app and pinch the screen to zoom in on their faces.
“So, tomorrow at 7?” Daren asks.
“Yeah. Don’t be late, birthday boy!” Renda says in response. If the strong smell of fertilizer isn’t enough to make me hurl, this definitely will.
The two part ways, both of them smiling as they think about each other. Daren walks down the road; Renda locks herself up in her house. It’s a very ugly house, by the way.
With the coast clear, I stand up from the flower bush, brushing branches and leaves off my Chanel coat. One step in front of the other, I stomp my way out her lawn and start making my way home. I couldn’t even begin to think of anything other than Daren and his betrayal.
What a jerk. Renda only lives like, ten feet from school. Why does Daren need to walk her home, but it’s a problem for me? My house is still a while away from here. My feet ache just thinking about it, especially in heels. So, I just sit on the bus stop bench and open my phone again. Could this evening possibly get any worse?
As soon as I grab my phone, bing. I get a text from mom.
WORK EMERGENCY. LEFTOVERS IN FRIDGE XOXO
Good lord up above, I didn’t mean it when I asked.
I awaken Facebook since that was the last app I was on. I was going to post a picture of myself again, but Daren probably won’t see it. He’s too busy thinking of Renda. Speaking of whom, I scour the internet for anything about her. But despite searching forever and checking everything from YouTube to Facebook, it seems like she doesn’t even use social media. What kind of witch doesn’t post what she ate for dinner every now and again. I couldn’t even find her parents anywhere. I’ll bet you they’re a family of extraterrestrial aliens or something.
No matter. I need to get her out of my head. I start scrolling down on my profile.
I post here occasionally. Mostly so family members know what’s going on since they don’t visit much. My family has always been the busy type. My great, great uncle was a war veteran, my great aunt owned a hair salon which my uncle took over, and even my cousin is trying to get his master’s in something stupid like English. One thing in common with them all, they still haven’t found their soulmates. It’s sad, really. They’re so busy with their own statuses and labels like “doctor” or “lieutenant” that they never make time to find love. Luckily, I don’t have that problem and never will.
I see pictures of myself with Daren. Oh, Daren. If only you knew everything I do for you. He told me once that he liked action figures, so I started collecting vintage Strawberry Shortcake toys to impress him. Then I noticed that he likes people with blue eyes, so I got contacts so he would look at me more. Then when he said he liked animals, I showed him my pet hamster, Stewie. Might be the same one that “blew up” back in 3rd grade; might not be.
All the photos of me here have Daren in them, too. Well, most of them. If you scroll back far enough, you can see all the other boys I’ve tried to socialize with. They never lasted more than a week. That’s what made Daren special – he lasted. That was how I knew he was the one.
But I’m tired of looking at him right now. Let’s see what other people have to offer. The first thing I see is a post from some girl from my school with a loyal boyfriend.
“Couldn’t ask for anyone better!”
Really? Well, I guess they can’t all be winners. I unfollow the girl.
The next post isn’t that different. It’s one of my aunts with her new husband.
“Celebrating a year with my husband. Couldn’t ask for anyone better!”
Goodness. Can’t I have just a moment? I shouldn’t unfollow a family member, so I just retract the like I initially gave the post. But I swear if I see another one like—oh, great. The next post is some super old couple from England celebrating 60 years of marriage.
“Through both the good times and bad, we’ve had each other’s backs. God bless.”
I close out the app and delete it. That app is for old people anyways.
“That’s it!” I shout, “If I’m going to have a long, happy life with my future husband, then I need to get him back!” I open up my notes app and start concocting the perfect plan to get Daren back. And maybe get Renda arrested somehow. Maybe. The plan is still young.
I need to make Renda look like a jerk or an idiot. Or both. Yeah! Daren hates stupid jerks. Before school tomorrow, uh, ooh! I’ll kidnap Daren’s dog and bury it in Renda’s backyard. Wait, how am I gonna get the dog to sleep? I know! My mom keeps her drugs in the bathroom. She probably has chloroform. Wait, what’s stopping me from just chloroforming Renda? Then again, what exactly would I do after that? Terrible plan, terrible plan.
Maybe not drugs, but maybe I can sneak a little something to Daren’s birthday party tomorrow. What kind of party wouldn’t have some kind of punch bowl or something? I could put something in Renda’s drink and make her act like an idiot. My dad is something of an alcohol connoisseur, so he’s bound to be hiding something under his bed again. But that doesn’t seem like enough...
Wait, remember the fireworks from that one 4th of July party? When I went out of my way to get them into the city, and no one even used them? Ungrateful work is what it was. Now all those striped rockets in my closet can finally be put to use. I don’t know what exactly, but I know it’s something.
Oh, Daren. This will be a birthday you’ll never forget!
I couldn’t contain my excitement. I got up super early in the morning and went to Daren’s house. I snuck in and chloroformed his little sleeping Corgi named Cheeseball. I really, really wish Daren would’ve given her to me, then I wouldn’t have to do this to her. Oh, well. It is what it is. I used a Christmas tree bag to carry the dog. My ring had gotten caught on her collar, but I just shoved the mutt in. No time to waste. I am a woman on a mission! A girl with purpose!
After dropping off the furry parcel into Renda’s yard, the day proceeded as normal. Granted I had to wait a few hours in front of school before the doors open, but a win is a win. No one at school could have guessed the deeds I had planned. Daren mostly ignored me to be with Renda, but it didn’t bother me as much anymore, since I knew what was to come. Any moment now, the school bells will ring.
Finally, it’s time to go to Renda’s house. It’s kind of small for my taste, but with all the bustling people, it reminds me of the mall. Daren practically abandons me once he steps foot into the house.
“Just don’t do anything crazy, okay?” The last thing he says to my face before he runs off. How dare he think so little of me!
I had to walk past the carnation bush and through the tiny yard all by myself. The entry room is no better. The number of people here is suffocating; somehow worse than the halls at school. I had no idea Renda knew this many people. Why don’t I have this many friends? I’m a great friend.
Focus. First, I find a cheap little Walmart cake in the kitchen, just past the living room. I replace all the candles with sparkles. Well, I might’ve thrown a few fireworks into the mix. They were hard to tell apart from the sparklers. I will take full responsibility for knowingly putting the firework labelled “Krakatoa” dead center, though. I’ll be honest, I really want to see what that one looks like.
My next stop is a punch bowl. It’s pretty big and made of flimsy clear plastic and is surrounded by stacks of Styrofoam cups. I reach into my tiny hand purse and pull out the bottle. It’s got a bunch of words I don’t really understand, except for the glaring label that says “whiskey.” I take out the cork and carefully pour a few drops in. Oh, who am I kidding – I’m going to pour the whole thing. I use the punch ladle to give it a good swirl after, then I pour up a cup for Renda. I make sure to fill it to the brim.
Wait—where's my ring? It’s not on my hand anymore. I almost dropped the cup of punch. My heart races. My forehead sweats. It’s not on the floor. It’s not in my coat. Daren gave me that ring when we first started dating. Where is it?
I hear someone laughing in the other room. Renda. What was I looking for again? I don’t know and I don’t care. Daren is nowhere to be seen. Time to make my move...
I innocently tip-toe over to Renda.
“Here you go, Renda,” I say with my teeth gritted, “Thanks for having us over!”
Renda gladly takes the apparent gesture of goodwill. “Thank you, Clarice. Again, I hope that my invitation isn’t intruding on your plans?” Her pure, crystal-clear voice speaks with a sincerity that I wish I could have. “I would hate it if you couldn’t enjoy this because of me.”
I force a giggle. “Oh, ho, ho. No hard feelings, Renda. . .”
She takes a nice, big swig of the punch and coughs.
“Woah,” she gasps. “That’s a strong fruit punch.” She takes another big drink. Mission is going well.
Through the noise of the crowd, I hear Daren in another room. I swiftly make escape. The crowds are crazy in here. I bump into several people, including some big jock with a baseball cap.
He shouts, “Oh, my bad—”
“Watch it!” I ain’t got time for that. I run off to the living room. There must be a thousand people in the tiny room. A thousand too many for my comfort. It's like Black Friday back in 2017. I finally get to him. Relieved, I hug him tight.
“Clarice, cut it out,” he grunts and pushes me off. Ugh, rude. “Hey, have you seen Renda? I haven’t gotten the chance to say ‘hi’ yet—”
“Oh, I have no idea where she is.” I take hold of his hand, but he yanks it away. “If you’re bored already, then we can just leave and head over to my house.”
“Clair, don’t get started. I haven’t even been here that long,” he sighs.
Before anything else, we hear a crazed laugh pierce the air. It’s Renda, and it definitely sounds like she’s getting the hit.
“Is that Renda?” Daren worriedly says and starts making his way to the kitchen where his new girlfriend is. I try to stop him, but you try holding back the star of the basketball team. He drags me past the groups of people.
“Gee, Daren,” I say, strained and failing to pull him back, “It seems like there’s an awful lot of people here. I know how much you hate crowds, so let’s just leave.”
“Clarice, lay off, will you?”
He—He yelled at me! That was NOT the answer that I was expecting. If he wanted some space, all he had to do was ask. Finally, I stop following him so closely. Well, sort of. There’s at least one foot of space between us now.
We spent a minute bobbing and weaving through the party-goers, looking for Renda because she wasn’t where she was when I spoke with her. We hear her laugh again, and she’s at the punch table, laughing with a group of people and emptying the punch bowl. Everyone else in the room is drinking punch too. They have cigarettes in their mouths and lighters in their hands.
“Wow,” I say, “I never took Renda for the smoking type.”
Daren immediately notices something off about Renda. Her vocals sound raspy as opposed to her normally pristine voice. Jeez, how long has he spent with her that he can tell when she’s drunk?
Seeing her in this state, I blurted out, “I didn’t think it would work that fast.”
Daren spins to face me, “What would work fast?”
“Why, the engaging energies of the party, of course!” I respond, masterfully covering my tracks.
Daren walks up to Renda and holds her. “Renda, are you ok? You’re acting like you’re drunk. And the party has only been going for, like, 15 minutes!”
Renda laughs the laugh of someone who isn’t all there. “You know, Daren, me and my friends have been talking. And we agree that things haven’t really been the same since the burning of the Library of Alexandria, heh.”
“Wh—What?” Sheer confusion.
“Hey, we just learned about that in history!” I say. You know, Renda actually seems kind of fun like this. But I have to stay focused. “Anyways, since this party seems to be getting out of hand, how about dinner at my house?”
Daren rolls his eyes. “Clarice, can you focus for just a minute? I think someone might’ve spiked the punch.”
“What makes you say that?”
Behind me, two guys start rolling around in a brawl. It’s hard to make out what they’re saying behind their slurring, something about who’s the more attractive teacher. They smell like alcohol. They punch and kick each other until one of them tries to ram the other – he misses and runs through the back door!
Everyone’s attention turns to the backyard. It’s decorated with flowers and old pots, and now with two drunk guys drooling on each other. Daren runs out to which me and Renda follow. A whole crowd comes out of the house, leaving behind their drinks, cigarettes, and lighters on the punch table next to the cake.
Daren tries to help the two guys up. “Hey, are you two okay?”
The guys get up fast. They dust themselves off and seem to have forgotten that they were fighting in the first place.
“Hey, did you leave the lighter inside?” One of them says.
The other responds in a slur, “Yeah. Let’s go get it.”
And they run back inside. Daren, and well, pretty much everyone, is confused. Daren gets up and rubs his hand through his hair.
“What the heck is going on...?” He says.
I can’t let him leave just yet. I need him to find his sleeping dog. Think fast!
Renda starts hobbling to Daren, so I stick my foot out in front of her and she falls over. Her chin hits the ground, and her punch cup spills and rolls over the green grass and flower beds to the metal gate fence where the Christmas tree bag is. When he goes to help her up, he spots the bag. Daren walks over to the bag and realizes that there’s something warm inside of it.
“Renda, what’s this?” Daren picks up the bag with a disturbed expression. The bag is much heavier than he expected.
Renda squints her eyes and turns her head sideways. She groggily shrugs, “Um, erm, a little Christmas tree...?” Pfft.
Daren puts the forest-green bag on the grass as the crowd surrounds him. He slowly unzips the bag. Once it’s open, he stares for a second, then flinches back and screams.
“My dog?!”
“Aha!” I victoriously point to Renda, “I knew there was something suspicious about—”
“He’s DEAD?!”
Wait, what?
A collective gasp rings out from the surrounding onlookers. I whip my head down at the dog unmoving, golden body lying on the ground. I think this is getting too intense for me. I slowly take a few steps back toward the side of the house. It’s a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one. Just to be sure, I sneak over to the fence.
“Renda, why is my...” just as he’s about to let loose on Renda, he stops. He reaches into the bag once more – and brings out my shiny, silver ring. Oh hey, he found it!
“CLARICE!”
He couldn’t have found it at a worse time. I was just about to make a break for it over the fence.
“Why is YOUR ring here?!” He shouts at me.
The crowd brings out their phones and begins to record us. Can’t say I blame them. I mean, nothing like a couple arguing to get a few hits on Insta, right?
My mouth trembles and I struggle to put words together. “So... My place? 10 minutes?”
Daren gets up. “Are you kidding me, Clarice? You killed my dog?”
“Actually, the dog did that himself. I told you that thing has – HAD a sleeping disorder.”
The crowd gasps again. Renda sobs uncontrollably, “Who would ever DO such a terrible thing!” She cries into Daren’s arms. He gently pushes her off and stomps over to me. Can you believe this is what I had to do to get a confrontation?
“What is wrong with you?” He screams at me, “Are you demented?”
“Daren, you act like you’ve never felt this before,” I talk down to him like he’s a child. “Come on, it starts with an L!”
“Mental?!”
“Far off. I said it started with an L.”
“Why do you even still hang around me? Why won’t you just leave?”
“Because a good girlfriend doesn’t just leave her partner.” I smile and peep, “A good girl fights for her relationship.”
“Clarice, this is exactly why I broke up with you. I. AM NOT. YOUR BOYFRIEND!”
The crowd gasps yet again, and Renda faints from the drama (and probably the punch).
Daren steps forward and towers over me. “We haven’t dated in a year. You agreed to stay in the friendzone. Why are you still clinging onto this?”
“Come on, Daren,” I say, showing off my nails, “If our time together has taught me anything, it's that I know when you’re not serious.”
“We only dated for a month!”
“Well, you don’t give up on a relationship just because of one simple mistake.”
“You stalked my sister and keyed her car because you thought I was cheating on you!”
The crowd gasps again. This isn’t exactly how I thought this whole scene would go.
I quite literally get backed into a corner. “What about all of those times I got us out of the principal’s office?”
“You mean all those times when you got us INTO the office?”
“Daren, listen to me.”
“NO. Listen to me. I am not your boyfriend. You are not my girlfriend. We’ve been over for a year now so just stop, okay?”
My eyes get blurry. My lips tremble. Behind all the anger in Daren’s eyes, I know that I can see a bit of remorse. He doesn’t really mean it.
“But,” he says quietly while rolling his eyes, “If you promise to, we can stay friends.”
I jump up and squeal—wait, friends? ONLY friends? After all that work?!
Just then, the two guys from earlier run out of the house shouting, “THEY WERE NOT CANDLES! THEY WERE NOT CANDLES!”
Everyone turns their phones toward the house, and a second later, the house explodes in a fabulous show of magnificent rainbow light.
Fire trucks and police cars surround the house. A sort of organized chaos flocks around the street beside the burning mess. Firefighters spraying water onto the house to extinguish whatever flames might still be alive, police giving everyone sobriety tests, and interviewing the parents of whoever might’ve been unfortunate enough to attend this sad, sad party. Even my mom was here, arguing with the police about how it’s not my fault and stuff. Kudos to her.
Amazingly, no one was hurt. Since everyone was outside, no one was hit by the fireworks directly. Although, there are a lot of angry parents scolding their drunk kids. That was definitely not my fault, though. It was technically their own choice to drink the punch.
Close to the street and away from all the commotion, I sit on the bus stop bench, head in my hands and slouching over. A perfectly planned revenge, wasted. Those fireworks weren’t cheap, I’ll tell you that. My thinking is interrupted by footsteps. I recognize the pattern, Daren. He walks up to me, his face pinched in anger.
“Daren, I’m sorry.” I tighten my neck and break my voice. I tilt my head down and tears build up in my baby-doll eyes.
Daren is... unmoved. “Stay away from Renda. Better yet, stay away from me.” He walks off.
Well, that was pointless. I straighten my back and rub the smoke-induced tears out of my eyes. I look down at my hand – still ring-less. Maybe Daren’s right. Maybe I need to start taking things slowly. Maybe love isn’t something I need to pursue after all. That’s it. I need to be diligent and let love come to me. No more spying. No more lying. It’s time for a change—
“Is this yours?”
I look up. It’s the same guy with the baseball cap from earlier. He’s handing me my silver ring. Weird. I thought that I’d never seen him before, but now that I think about it, I might’ve bumped into him once or twice at school. I think we have math, no, history together. Maybe even science. I think his name is... Justin? No, no, it’s Jordan. Jordan.
My eyes sparkle with reflections of the diminishing flames of Renda’s house. I gently retrieved the ring from the kind boy, careful not to scratch his hands with my long, acrylic nails.
“Uh, thanks.” What do I say? Where do I start?
“No problem, Clarice.”
He even knows my name? Wow. We must be closer than I thought.
The nice boy walks off, but I can’t take my eyes off Jordan. Him. Oh, just the name alone could make swoon; you know, if I wasn’t sitting on a bus stop bench. I look down at the ring, the one that Derek or whatever-his-name-was gave me...
And I toss it behind me. Quickly, I catch up to the nice guy with the baseball cap.
“So, you live around here?”