Till Dawn (HS)

xii

Cooking proved to be just what she needed; Clara distracted her mind with being busy in the kitchen preparing everything for Christmas day, so that the growing ache in her chest was a bit easier to ignore. It was still there, of course, and when she would accidentally seep back into thoughts of Harry, it grew. But at least she didn't cry, not during the day at least. She would wake up in the mornings and there would be a damp stain on her pillow, but she could hardly even remember how it got there. Everything blurred together- she was in the kitchen for two days straight, the subdued sun rose and fell, and before she knew it, it was Christmas and she was sitting at the table in her parents' dining room, enveloped in the warm scent of all the food she had made.

"Clara," her brother's voice caused her to blink. She had been staring at the tray of garlic potatoes, her heart throbbing. "Can you pass me the fucking salt already? I've asked you ten times."

"Sorry," she mumbled, reaching for the salt shaker. She could hear her mother quietly scold Jackson for his language. "Here," she handed it to him and he gave her a lingering stare before shaking his head and covering his entire plate of food with way too much salt, making her grimace.

"Clara, is something wrong dear?" Her mother's voice was the next one to flood her ears. She looked up to see her mother's worried eyes looking from her to her plate, which had hardly been touched. "Are you sick? You look a bit pale, maybe you need to throw up?"

"No, I don't." Did she really look that bad?

"Maybe she's pregnant," Jackson chimed, snickering. Clara groaned in exasperation and shoved her foot against his calf under the table.

"I'm not pregnant, or sick. I'm just not hungry right now," she mumbled. She could hear her mother sigh but no one bothered her about her lack of eating or interaction for the rest of the evening. Clara tried her best to smile and enjoy her favorite holiday, but even as she was showered with gifts and money, she could barely find it in her to say as much as thank you. Her mother's present was a box the size of a large dog, filled to the brim with clothes from brands she had never even heard of. Clara picked up each shirt and skirt and let her fingers trail over the silky, soft fabric, and her mother was watching her with hope in her eyes. Clara simply put them all back in the box and gave her a nod of her head, a sign of her appreciation, but it made her mother's frown deepen.

Her father had given her an envelope. Inside was a Hallmark card with reindeer on it, which was stuffed with enough cash to splurge on her favorite makeup, or to pay for a month's rent. Clara wasn't sure what she would do with it yet.

"You're going to love this," Jackson said when it was his turn to give her a gift, a smirk ghosting over his lips. It was a box poorly wrapped in red paper, and he let it plop onto her lap with a quiet thud. Clara didn't have high expectations for what was inside, and she had every reason to since when she tore open the paper, the words Durex Maximum Love were staring back at her.

"Grow up," was the first thing that tumbled from her mouth. She scowled and tossed the box of condoms back at her brother, her chest feeling tight. He lolled his head back in laughter and Clara felt her teeth chew on the inside of her cheek- it was silly, really, that a box of contraceptives had summoned moisture to her eyes, but the thought of not being able to have a use for them anymore made her want to cry.

Clara went back to work the Friday after Christmas. On Thursday, she had sat on her couch staring at the cat in her lap, debating whether or not to go to Harry's house for over an hour. Her pride and sanity urged her to stay home and drown away her thoughts by watching episodes of Friends which she had already watched five times before. Surely if she had showed up there after what she said to him, the door would have been slammed in her face.