La Mort et ses Merveilles ✔

15. Clara and Clyde

"You do mean a lot to me," the young man said, taking a few steps forward. "It's just that I slipped up okay? I didn't mean to do that."

"You know, there's this funny thing I heard from someone," I snapped as I took a step back. "That you never mean anything that you say. And I'm starting to believe that Clara was right after all."

"Jay, I-"

I put my hand up, cutting him short.

"Let's just get this over and done with," I told him. "This better be worthwhile."

Clara's house was rather decently sized. It had a fenced yard, and the walls were stucco. We hopped the fence and walked up to the front door, but it was locked. Leslie cursed under his breath but he took a step back, seemingly remembering something.

Walking away from the door, I watched as Leslie took a few paces to the right, until he reached a small pebble. Picking it up, he scooped out a set of keys from underneath. Spinning around, he dangled it in front of me, a boyish smile on his face.

"Ta-da," he said, the grin still on his lips.

"If you're looking for someone to congratulate you," I said, glaring at him. "Try your preschool teacher. Or Clyde."

The young man had a dejected look on his face.

"Can we not bring him up?" he said, a sullen look on his face. "Especially not here."

I scoffed. What was it to him? He pissed me off and I had the very right to be downright angry at him for what he did.

"Who is he anyway?" I questioned, as Leslie walked up to the door, keys in hand.

"None of your business," he muttered under his breath.

"None of my business?" I said, raising my voice. "It is my business especially when you moan his name out loud like that."

He shook his head and opened the door. I guess he was just about to storm in when I grabbed his sleeve.

"What now, you needy bitch?" Leslie retorted, almost yelling.

I let go off his hand, letting my arm fall limply to my side. A part of me wanted to lunge at him, another wanted to just curl up in a ball and cry. But I had to stay focused. He was the only one I had in this abandoned town, and I'd best not get in his way. As hurt as I was, I wiped away the tears pooling in my eyes.

"Nothing," I muttered, as I walked past him. "I'm fine."

"Jay," he called out, his voice softer this time. "I-I didn't mean to say that."

"Grow up," I spat out. "I don't know what's wrong with you or what went wrong along the way, but I just want you to know that you should realise that your words have an impact."

Leslie looked at me with his boyish eyes of his, but I had nothing more to say. There was an awkward silence as we walked into Clara's old home. It was empty, but everything seemed to be untouched.

"I-I'm gonna head upstairs," the young man muttered. "If you need anything, just shout."

With that, he left me all alone in the living room. It was still impressively clean, well as clean as it can get for being abandoned for a while. The air was dusty, but I've breathed staler air when I was out on the road scavenging through abandoned stores. I debated whether to plop myself down onto the sofa, but I decided against it. I'd rather look around to see if there was anything useful. I wondered if it was alright to take anything since this was Clara's house after all.