Bullet

Chapter 6 - The Answer

Chapter 6
The Answer

A/N - A huge thank you to Noelle for the beautiful cover/banner to the side :)

Due to the lack of care Clay had of talking to me for the rest of the night while he cleaned himself up and encased himself in his thoughts, I spent the night at Marnie’s, where she offered me a change of clothes for the next morning and shoulder to cry on if I needed it.

I ended up not saying much else after my encounter with Clay, only murmuring a soft ‘Goodnight’ to Marnie before she fell asleep. While she snored on throughout the night, my mind was on a replayed roll of the night’s events. I couldn’t get the scene of the other guys beating on Clay out of my head. I kept rewinding Clay’s words in my head on how he would fix this issue, over and over again until I could recite them word for word without a reference. How would he fix this? How did you manage to fix a broken boy like that?

On the way to Anatomy the following afternoon, I ran into Clay just as he was passing by to the South wing for English class. His face was hard, a dark bruise forming underneath the half circle of his eye and cuts still fresh against his tanned skin. He was carrying his backpack in front of him, his hand reaching in and out every so often like he was in search of something.

“Clay!” I called to him, noticing how his posture froze at the recognition of my voice. He paused in his steps and took a deep breath before turning half way to face me.

“What’s up, Cal?” he asked, his tone on edge and his fingers still playing inside of his bag. My eyes kept falling to his actions, which didn’t take him too long to realize and bring his hand out of the bag finally.

“How are you…?” I swallowed down my fear to his jagged response. “How are you doing?”

He sighed heavily, his nostrils flaring. Looking around at any place but me, he mumbled, “I’m fine.” Now that his hand wasn’t firmly planted inside of the bag, his fingers were drumming impatiently against the pant leg of his jeans.

“Are you sure?” I prompted, my voice soft and understanding as I looked up at him. He seemed to be looking for something in particular, his impatience carrying on through his jittery limbs.

“I said I’m fine, Callie!” he snapped, his teeth clenched and hands becoming quicker in motions.

That shut me up. I deliberated in my head on what to say next that could possibly make him forgive me for everything I’d embarrassed him over. I just wanted to make him see that I loved him so much and just wanted him to be able to be happy. If hitting bullies for him and stepping in between a fight was what got him to be safe, than I would do it. Nothing would stop me from keeping him safe.

The silence wrapped around us both, making this encounter become far too awkward for siblings to have to bear. Squaring off my shoulders and taking in a deep breath, I went to say, “Clay, I’m so…”

“Listen, Callie,” Clay cut me off suddenly, his eyes intent on whatever he was looking at behind me. His fingers became quicker than lightening and his hand traveled back into his bag once again. “I’ve got to go. I’m fine. I promise.”

Before I could even come up with a response, he was shoving past me and working his way down the hall. The determined look in his eyes triggered a warning sign within me that I couldn’t ignore. He never looked this driven before.

I looked behind me for a moment, watching his retreating back move down the hall and mindlessly bumping into others without apologizing. Some of the people were forgiving, not caring much about an innocent bump, while others scowled at him and called after him with derogatory names. His hand was still in his bag, this I noticed by the crooked arch in his elbow as he walked off.