Handle With Clare

Chapter 36: It's Not Just About You

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"Hey how was your date?" mom called out to me from the kitchen as I walked into the house later that night.

I frowned as I slipped off my shoes as I thought about how the date finished after Peter told me about California. The mood of the date shrunk, and we ended up not staying much longer, using the cold as an excuse to leave. I felt disappointed in so many ways that date could have turned out better. I could have shut my mouth. I didn't have to ask him anything, but I just couldn't help myself by adding another poor memory to that valley.

When Peter dropped me off at the door, I didn't let him come in like he normally did since there were things I needed to talk about with my parents, and I didn't want him there. It upset me that I couldn't bring my father into the conversation since he was on a business trip so I would only have mom to talk to.

"So, when were you going to tell me I had to go to California?" I asked to mom as I walked into the kitchen. I placed my hands on my hips to look tougher than I felt, wanting to stand my ground and not shrink.

Mom turned on her heels with a bowl of ice cream in her hands with a frown. Why was everyone frowning at me recently? I was told I was getting better, but when they looked at me like this, I had a hard time believing them. "I was going to get to that bridge when I had to."

I frowned at her. She knew I didn't want to go either, yet she would send me off. "You're not winning any brownie points."

"I had little choice," she sighed, as if too tired to have this conversation. She was one to talk, she forced that treatment down my throat and didn't even ask me. She didn't bother to ask how this treatment made me feel, how I rather die than live through it again. I was in agony with the treatment.

I leaned against the wall, hoping it could help me stand, since I could barely hold my own weight. The wall didn't help, and I moved to grab hold of the back of a chair to stable myself. I resisted the urge to push against my head, to ease the pounding inside my skull.

"But I told you I didn't want to go anywhere but here," I said to her with harshness in my voice.

"Clare, it won't be forever. Just a for a few days," she said in a comforting voice, as if it would convince me that it wouldn't be a big deal, that everything would work out. But I had my luck, and I knew that there was a good chance that things would not work out and this was a big deal.

Instead of fighting with her, I asked a simple question that I had floated around my mind. "And how many times do I have to go there?"

"Maybe three times. I'm not sure," she said as she put her bowl of ice cream on the counter.

I frowned at her even more. "So, I'm going to miss my senior year?" I would never be at home this year, was I? I would miss out on all the important senior activities with Peter.

"You're homeschooled Clare. What are you going to miss?" she said as her tone got harsh with me. I took a step back, not expecting that. "Don't say it, because I already know that answer. Clare, you have to think of the bigger picture. Do you want to stay here with him, or do you want years added to your life?"

I placed my hands on my hips again. It was a simple question, but the answer wasn't that easy to address. Peter wasn't the whole reason why I didn't want to go, but I didn't want to tell her the whole reason, afraid it would just make me look weak. "I don't want to go."

I didn't care if she was speaking reason to me. I felt like I should stand my ground on this regardless of what she was telling me. Fear took hold as I realized that going there would mean more suffering, but this time far from home. It terrified me that if I went, I would die there, all alone, with no one to care for me, not like they do here.