Something special

Okay, so maybe my smile was a little smug as I followed Clayton with an- other box. But I couldn't help it. "Do you need any help, Clay?" Tilly called out. She was tenacious, I'd give her that.

"We're good, Tilly. Thanks, though," Clay replied over his shoulder without looking in her direction (earning Tilly another smug smile from yours truly).

I dropped my box on the floor inside the dark storage room. "Be careful, Mags. Ruby will have my head if you break the crystal balls in there," he said sharply, quickly looking through the box to make sure everything was still in one piece. Despite his terse tone, I thrilled at his use of my nickname. I loved it when he called me Mags instead of Maggie, thinking it hinted at an intimacy that I desperately longed for.

"Sorry, Clay," I said, sitting down in a metal chair. I stretched my back after carrying the heavy box. "So, you had a problem with partying in Florida? What kind of problem?" I asked as he sorted through the greeting cards inside his box. Clay looked up at me with that unreadable expression he was prone to dis- playing.

"Well, I got in heavy with drugs and stuff. Hanging with the wrong crowd and all. Things got a little out of control for a while. But that was only a symp tom of everything else, I guess." His voice was cagey, always aware of how much he was revealing about himself.

"Wow, Clay-you just don't seem like that kind of guy. I'm a bit surprised," I said, watching him closely.

Clayton sighed. "I'm definitely that kind of guy. You have no idea," he mut- tered. I wanted to ask him more. To find out how "out of control" he had been. I wanted to know everything about my mysterious friend, but he remained hesi- tant and wary. Despite how close we were becoming, there was a very significant line that I just couldn't cross. Yet.

"So, no party, then?" I asked him. Clay's shoulders dropped as he stood up. He seemed unsure of himself and it made me want to hug him.

"Would we go there together?" he asked me. Would we ever! I wouldn't let him out of my sight if I could help it. But I responded with an airy "Of course, if you want to."

Clay seemed to be ruminating over his response. How a high-school party could be such a matter of life and death was beyond me. "And Rachel and Daniel are going?" Clearly he needed strength in numbers or something. I nod- ded. "Okay, then. I guess I'll go. If you want me to." He looked at me, waiting for my affirmation.

"I'd love for you to go," I said, relieved that he would be with me in a social setting. I had this primal need to mark him as mine. To make it clear to all the idiots at school that he belonged to me. Wow, had I gone all alpha?

"Will there be, you know, drinking and stuff? Because that's kind of hard for me," he admitted softly. He seemed sad all of a sudden, the change in him catching me by surprise. His moods were so up and down; he was hard to keep up with.

"Melissa's parties aren't like that. Her parents are usually there somewhere.

It's typically a bonfire in her back field with music and people just hanging out. It's a good time." Clay still seemed a bit unsure but took me at my word. "Okay, then; sounds good," he said, giving his first real smile since I had brought the whole party thing up.

"Great!" I said a little too loudly, and I winced at my overt display of enthu- siasm. Clay reached over and squeezed my hand. I startled at the physical con- tact. He wasn't a touchy-feely kind of guy, so I was taken aback by it. "You're so cute when you get excited," he said, looking at me with something that could only be described as tenderness.

I know I stopped breathing. He thought I was cute? Our eyes held each oth- er's, not moving away. A moment began to build and Clay took in a sharp breath. His eyes dropped to my lips and I could have sworn he wanted to kiss me. My tongue darted out and wet my suddenly dry lips, and I watched his eyes follow the movement.

The air crackled with the tension. Clayton's eyes burned with intensity. I felt like we were trapped in slow motion. His hand came up and lightly touched my face. I angled my cheek toward his palm and I closed my eyes.

"Maggie," he whispered, his breath on my face as he moved closer.

And my phone started buzzing in my pocket. Why did this always happen?! Clay immediately jumped back, putting space between us. He was suddenly fo- cused on finishing his task of unloading the boxes on the floor. Crap! Someone had better be dying! I glanced at the screen on my phone and saw Rachel's name. "What?" I barked after I answered.

"Jeez. Who pissed in your cornflakes?" Rachel's testy voice asked on the other end. I took a steadying breath and tried to calm the frantic beat of my heart. I looked back over at Clay but he had turned away from me.

"Sorry, Rache. What do you need?" I tried to not sound as agitated as I felt.

"I was just calling to see what time you wanted me to pick you up tonight,” she said, still sounding miffed at my earlier attitude.

"You're not going with Daniel? I thought you guys were riding over to- gether," I asked, already fearing the answer. Daniel must have bailed on her, hence her prickliness. Confirming my thoughts, Rachel told me that he had called an hour ago and said he'd be taking Kylie to the party. Rachel sounded so dejected that I wanted to call Daniel and ream him out. I was sick of him doing this to her. Even if he was my other best friend, it didn't mean I had to sit by and watch him be so thoughtless all the time.

I didn't comment on Daniel's ass-itude, knowing that it wouldn't help Rachel feel better. "Hold on," I told her, covering the mouthpiece with my hand.

"Hey, Clay," I whispered. Clay turned around, not really meeting my eyes. His expression was cold. Great, he was totally regretting our little moment car- lier. Whatever I could play the I-don't-care game with the best of them.

"Do you want to ride with me and Rachel?" Clay shrugged. "I can just meet you guys there. Don't worry about me," he said, turning back around, walls firmly in place. His earlier nerve seemed to have taken a backseat to his need to stay away from me. I suppressed a sigh and returned to my conversation with Rachel.

"Eight thirty good for you?" I asked her, trying to sound more upbeat. The

truth was I was bummed that Clay wouldn't be going to the party with me. Sure, he'd said he'd meet us there, but that's not the same as actually arriving to- gether. "Sounds fab. I'll see you then." And, with that, Rachel hung up. I put my phone on the table and picked up my jacket. Jamming my arms through the sleeves, I roughly zipped it up with an annoyed huff. Clay turned at the noise and looked surprised.

"You leaving already?" he asked me. I met his eyes defiantly. I was hurt by his attitude after our near kiss minutes earlier. Maybe I was setting all my hopes on something that most certainly wouldn't happen. But it didn't stop the sting. I just wanted to get out of there, put some space between me and this moody boy whom I felt I would never understand.

Clay's face softened, as if he were reading my thoughts. "Okay, then," he said

quietly, taking a small step toward me. I stood my ground, not moving toward or away from him.

"Guess I'll see you tonight. You're not going to bail at the last minute, are you?" I asked him, frustrated by the needy note in my voice.

"No, I'll be there. Wild horses couldn't keep me away," he said with his iron- ic smile. I didn't smile back, my feelings still hurt too much.

I turned away and walked toward the door. "See you then," I called over my shoulder, refusing to show how badly I wanted that moment to happen. How much I wanted him to call me back, pull me into his arms, and kiss me sense- less. When did I become this gooey romantic? When did I become freaking Rachel? I shuddered.

"Maggie." He stopped me with the sound of my name on his lips. I didn't turn around and he made no move to come any closer. Every second that passed amped up the angst level to an unbearable degree. Did he realize how much I wanted him? Needed him with a passion that scared me? Or was he a dolt just like Daniel?

Clay cleared his throat. "I can't wait to see you tonight," he said, almost strangling on his words. My cheeks flushed hot. I nodded again with my back to him, and left.

Dolt it was.

Once outside with the door firmly closed behind me, I sagged. I wasn't sure how long I could keep up this "friendship." Not when I wanted so much more. I'd never experienced anything like the crazy feelings that Clayton stirred up in- side of me and I didn't know what to do about it. There had been about thirty seconds there when I just knew he wanted the same thing I did, before the win- dow slammed shut.

Was I expecting too much too fast? Maybe I was being pushy and incon- siderate about Clay's feelings and needs. Should I back off and let him come to me when he was ready? As great and thoughtful as that all sounded, it so wasn't me. I wasn't one to sit back and wait for shit to happen. So that's why this whole will-they/won't-they thing was exhausting. But I didn't want to give up. Clay was worth more than that. Our friendship was something special and I couldn't ruin it.

I chuckled to myself and I headed home. Damn it if Daniel hadn't been right (not that I would ever tell him that). He had told me that one day I would get what all the fuss was about, and that day had just arrived.