It Started with a Bet... (Watty Awards 2011)

I haven't explained this to anyone, not even myself

26: I haven't explained this to anyone, not even myself.

"I have something important to tell you. But first, can you help me with Trina?" What Trevor’s saying makes sense. To be honest, I feel uncomfortable around both boys. I don’t know why, but maybe Trevor’s onto something. Maybe, if I know that Trina won’t be forgotten, I won’t feel so ill at ease all the time.

"First things first," Trevor says, sitting me down on my bed. "You have to tell us everything." Clarice gets up.

"Maybe I should go get some milk or something..."

"He said 'us' for a reason, Clarice. I want you to stay." She looks oddly touched. People can be so emotional sometimes.

"Thank you," she says, touching my shoulder. She lies down on one side of me, Trevor on the other. I start talking.

Trina's death, my more-or-less catatonic state afterward, cutting my wrists, the spur-of-the-moment attempted suicide with a kitchen knife (Trevor reaches out and grabs one of my hands), my parents leaving work, Dr. Thornton and his Forget Therapy, and everything slowly being erased. The pictures, the hangouts, the house, even the clothes. All erased. And how Trina lived in my head after that. How, to me, she's still alive.

I know they expect me to stop there, but I don't. I haven't explained this to anyone, not even myself. So I keep going, putting things in order for my own sake, as well as theirs.

How I avoided people, how I faked a recovery, how I overheard about the bet (Trevor lets out a small laugh and shakes his head). How I was annoyed with Trevor, how he drove Trina away, how hard it was to act for so long. And the date. And how acting in Trina's own restaurant sucked (Clarice sniffs and wipes a tear with one hand. I point to a box of tissues on the bedside table).

And then that night. How scary that was, how strange. How I missed Trevor a little, but it triggered that passion from my near suicide. It scared the crap out of me. (Trevor squeezes my hand. Clarice has an arm around me and is holding me tight).

And how I'm here now. How Dr. Thornton is back. How he thinks I should have a boyfriend and he won't believe I've recovered until I have one. How I don't trust him, because when I did he told my parents everything and the erasing began. How I've been tortured for being close to Trevor and Corey. How Clarice got locked in the closet, how my car was covered in sticky notes, Christa's threat, how I was tortured today (Clarice turns red, Trevor's hand slowly becomes a fist). Was it only today?

And, finally, that I'm slowly falling for someone (Trevor trembles next to me. I squeeze his hand but he pulls away), that I'm slowly falling for someone but I'm afraid I'll forget Trina.

"How are you not crying?" Clarice asks. She takes five tissues out of the box and offers it to Trevor. He's already whipped away any tears as fast as he can and shakes his head. Psh. Men. So afraid of what others think.

"She never cries. Not even when Trina died," he says.

"That's not healthy," Clarice says.

"That's what I said!"

I just shake my head.

"That's stupid guys." Clarice turns to me, her eyes slightly red.

"But now dating Corey makes perfect sense." We're treading on thin ice here. I don't want Trevor to know how I almost feel yet. I want to tell him after I take care of Trina. When I know it's a happy ending.

"Clarice, be careful."

She ignores me.

"It makes perfect sense! You get your stupid therapist off your back and chase the guy you really like off. Plus, if you pick a guy, the rumors and crap will eventually die down. Simultaneously saving your sanity and Trina's memory! It's genius in the most horrible way." Trevor shakes his head.