chapter eighteen; banshees

1K 23 0
                                    

"Hey, Clara," was Chris' greeting to her when she stepped into the car. He send her a small smile, deciding to start with a simple question. He knew she wasn't going to tell him if he put pressure on her. "How's everything going? School just ended, I bet you learned a lot today."

She sniggered, shaking her head while she looked at him. He was trying to focus as much on the road as he could, sometimes turning to her so she knew he was listening. "I actually don't learn a lot, I already know a lot by experience and what I've learned the years before. But they prepare us for exams most of the time."

"When are your exams?"

"In June," Clara sighed dramatically but continued to smile anyway. She didn't want to show him how she was really feeling just yet, but she knew she had to talk about it eventually. He didn't come for nothing. "I think I have to do like three exams. English, Math and a practical assignment."

"Your sister had to do the same," he told, turning the wheel to the right as he nodded. "I remember she said the practical assignment was so intimidating her hands wouldn't stop shaking. She got her diploma anyway, but what can I say? She's got the charms."

Deep inside she wanted to lie in bed and never leave, but she forced a laugh and hid it with her small hand. "Do you think I could lend them from her?"

"What? I'm sure you'll find out how to do it yourself without the charms," he patted her knee, rolling her eyes at how stupid she was being. From what he knew about her, he could tell there was a lot more about her than her kind personality. "You only have to believe it."

"Right," she quickly changed the subject, running a hand through her blonde hair. "How long do you have to work today? Sandra once told me you work until 5 every day."

"Are you sure you trust her?" a smirk grew on his face as he turned to look at her with his dark blue eyes. "I work until 6, she cooks on the work days and I cook in the weekends. It's a usual thing for us to do. How about you and Dylan? I'm sure you had a fun weekend-..."

"I'm not talking about him with you, especially not about this weekend," she stated, cutting him off before he could say anything more to make her blush. "I've been seeing him, yes, but does that mean we've been making out the entire time?"

"Well, I mean, if you want to, I'm sure he doesn't mind-..."

"Are we clear?"

His smirk didn't seem disappear and she knew it was because she was acting stupid about nothing. He was just teasing her a little, maybe he wanted to make sure you could smile besides everything. "I'm sorry, it's fine. We can talk about anything, only not now."

"Take your time, Cole. We know what's going on; a friend moving isn't something that you can get over in a day. You can't just move on and forget that there's a high chance you're never ever, ever going to see her again."

"Exactly."

"And you need time to realize the next person you meet isn't going to leave you too."

"Where have you been all my life?"

"You lose faith in real friendships and relationships."

"Yes," she sighed in relief that she had finally met someone who understood how she felt. It was one of the things that got in the way of wanting to get to know people, get close to them, help them with their problems and the other way around. Chris was the person she had been looking for the entire time and he had been there right there in front of her. "Do you know what I can do to change it?"

"You do whatever helps for you to get everything out."

"Like screaming?"

"Yes, like screaming. You scream, you scream and stamp with your feet. If it helps, you're done with pushing people away and there's finally time to actually get to know them."

But did screaming help? She wasn't going to scream if it wasn't, because she had never done it. She never even yelled at someone, not even if they were fighting. And well, this wasn't freaking Teen Wolf, was it? Clara wasn't a banshee like Lydia was.

"Think about it. I sometimes tend to throw things at the wall when I'm frustrated, Sandra can cry about it all day, my brother in Australia goes clubbing. We all express our emotions differently."

There was silent between them until she said something.

"I know you're an mechanic and all, but are you sure you still want to? You could be a therapist."

His laugh filled the car, shaking his head at the comment. She could be right, but he enjoyed working with cars more than having to talk about people's problems all day. "I appreciate that, thanks, but no. But now we're done talking about you, I want to talk about me." He leant his arms against the steering wheel, looking out of the window, "Sandra's free from work this evening and I want to cook her something delicious. Do you have any idea what her favorite food is at the moment?"

She smiled as she patted his shoulder, but this time it actually was real. She felt a lot better after talking to him. "I'll make sure to help you. Don't worry  about it."

 ----

As said, Clara was helping him with preparing dinner. Sandra would be home anytime soon which was making them rather worried if everything was going to get done early.

The meat was still in the pan, the macaroni was still cooking. It wasn't done yet. Nothing was done yet, expect for the table they had decorated. They had set candles on the center of the table, it was cliché but she couldn't think of anything else. 'It has to be romantic, I don't want it to be casual,' was what he had said. But that was all he really said, he was so nervous.  She hadn't seen him so nervous since he told her he wanted to ask Sandra to move in with him. Yes, she also helped him with that. They were basically helping each other with everything. Were they best friends? She had no idea, she had never questioned herself but they did seem like it.

"Have you thought about telling her why you're doing this?" Clara smiled widely, looking at him in curiosity. There had to be a reason why he was doing this all for her. This wasn't just because she was free from work for an evening. "You could practice."

"I'm not going to tell you. This is personal."

"Is she pregnant?"

His mouth dropped open, turning to her with big eyes. "No, she isn't. Not that I know of anyway. I just want to show her I love her, that's all. I promise. And stop looking at me like that."

"But that's all?" she turned off the stove when she noticed the meat was okay. She sniggered, deciding to tease the man a little, "You just want to show her you love her. I mean, there's nothing else? Are you sure? I don't know if you know, but I'm sure she already knows you love her."

"I'm sure Dylan is going to be the romantic one in the relationship."

"I was just joking!" she went to grab her bag before he could even think about tickling her in her sides.

"I know, me too."

She walked out of the kitchen, turned around one more time to wish him good luck. "I'm sure everything turns out fine. She loves you too, you know."

"I know. Thanks." 

Right There || Dylan O'BrienWhere stories live. Discover now