Red Clay

31

Hamzaa's words replayed in my mind for hours. While I showered, as Clay and I texted, when I snuck into the kitchen and devoured two cinnamon raisin bagels and a fruit salad, her words never left. I formulated plan after plan putting pieces together until I hit a wall then I'd start over. When I eventually did go to sleep, I dreamt of me and the gang racing through a field freer than we'd ever been. The promise of running away and thriving just an arms length away.

Now, as I lay on the couch, my head in Clay's lap and his hand underneath my shirt so far up his fingers are tucked under my bra, her words still rattle around my brain. I'd accepted what our father's wanted, well sort of, because of my feelings for Clay and through all of my plans of running away one thing remained the same, I wanted Clay to come with me. I wanted to be with him no matter how hard it was for me to admit that. But, would he even want to run away? After everything with his mom, would he even consider it?

I tilt my head up to get a better look at him. His curls are past his ears now and the blond stubble on his jaw is growing fuller by the day. His eyes are darting back and forth across the tv screen but when his lips twitch at the corner I know I've stolen his attention.

"Am I a pretty girl?" he laughs and looks down at me. I watched his eyes shift from green to light brown as we laid beside each other this morning exhausted and out of breath, in this moment they're green again.

"The prettiest." we both laugh and he bends to kiss my forehead.

"Seriously, what's rattling around in that big head of yours?" I like that he pauses the movie when he hears me sigh, giving me his undivided attention. Prepared to take in whatever nonsense I'm about to spew. I'd take the small things over a grand gesture any day.

"Have you ever considered running away from all of this? I mean even before this whole arranged marriage." his head falls against the back of the couch but his eyes stay on me, brows pulled together.

"Yes," he huffs, "especially when I was younger. I wanted to be with my mom so bad. I'd even drawn up maps with crayons Ralph forgot to confiscate. I hid them underneath my bed and would add to them almost every day. I swore I'd get far enough to find her even though I had no fucking idea where she was." His wry laugh is saddening.

"Do you think she'll come back?"

"I used to live by that, crying myself to sleep and reminding myself that she'd come home. I stopped a couple years later. I got old enough to understand and for the memories I had of her to fully register and come across exactly as they were. Ralph was even worse to her than he is to Willow. Who'd want their mom to come back to that? So I stopped hoping and praying for her to come back. I stopped crying and promised I never would again because, wherever she is, she has to be happier there than here." his idle fingers pull my ponytail loose and my hair puffs immediately.

"Would you do it today? Runaway I mean?" I can see him thinking, his eyes blank and far away. His fingers massage my scalp as he mulls over my question. Call it intuition but as soon as his eyes refocus my stomach sinks.

"No. I want to get out of Ralph's clutches but running away, off grid, whatever, I'd be leaving Willow too and also not giving my mom a chance to find me." I understand him completely but my heart still hurts like hell. I turn to face the tv so he can't see my face, I won't make him change his mind for me.

If I go, the only person I'd be leaving is Domonique. Dane would know everything and unlike Ralph it's extremely doubtful that Domonique will even look for me. Leaving him would be easy once I'm gone, I'm gone. I'd be dirt broke with a single bag of clothes and toiletries but I'd be away from him. Clay has more to lose than me if he leaves. With Ralph in pursuit he'd have to change who he is completely to stay away from him destroying his chances of continuing contact with his sister and his mother finally turning up to find him.