Flipped // DNF

Chapter Fourteen

Monday morning, as I made my way into school, thinking about everything and anything, except for Clay, Niki put him back into my mind.

"George, the list is out," Niki chirped. "There he is, number nine, your main dish."

"Clay is not my main dish."

"Oh, you're sticking to your diet."

"It's not a diet, Niki. I'm over him, okay?"

"I'm glad to hear it."

How was Niki always so optimistic? Or, at least, she always sounded that way.

"Because rumor has it, Minx is already taking her claim on him."

"Minx? Like, Rebecca, Minx?"

Niki ignored him.

That afternoon, I found myself obsessing over the Basketboy auction. I could feel myself backsliding about Clay. But why should I care if Rebecca liked him? I shouldn't even be thinking about him. I had to rise over this. Clay was no longer a part of my life.

Me and Niki sat by each other at the auction. She wasn't going to bid on anyone, we were just going to eat lunch together after the auction.

I could say I didn't care all I wanted, but seeing Clay walk out in his jacket and tie, holding his picnic basket, set my head spinning again.

The auction seemed to fly by. So quick, that it was already Clay's turn.

Rebecca won the bidding battle between her and Alyssa.

Me and Niki sat down to start eating out lunch, but out of the corner of my eye, I could see Clay staring in our direction.

I tried to give my full attention to Niki, but it was difficult. She was saying something about one of her siblings, when out of nowhere, Clay stood up and marched right towards me.

"Hey, George. I have to talk to you."

Niki's eyes widened.

He grabbed George's waist, in front of the whole school. It startled him.

He was going to kiss me.

Kiss me.

All my life I've been waiting for that kiss, but not like this. Not this way.

Clay leaned in to kiss George, but George slipped out of his grip and ran out of the school.

I peddled home so hard, I thought my lungs would burst. I ran straight to my room.

George's mother knocked on his door, then walked in.

"Georgie?"

"I can't," George cried, his face shoved into his pillow.

"Sweetheart, you can tell me."

"Clay tried to kiss me."

Her eyes widen. "He did?"

"In school, in front of everybody."

The doorbell rang. It was Clay.

"Mom, please don't get it. It's probably him."

"Sweetheart, maybe you should talk to him."

"I can't. I just can't."

Clay would not leave me alone. He kept calling on the phone. And knocking on the door. He even snuck around the house and tapped on my window. Why didn't he understand that I just wanted to be left alone?

After two days, Clay stopped. And I thought it was finally over.

One afternoon, I was coming into the front room to read. My father was there reading, too. I heard a noise coming from the yard.

George looked out the window to see Clay digging a hole in the front yard, the yard that George had worked so hard on.

"Hey, what's he doing?" George yelled.

"George, calm down. I gave him permission."

"Permission? Permission for what? He's digging a hole."

"I told him he could."

George watched him. It was painful for him to watch.

"But why?"

"I told him he could," his father repeated.

It was torture seeing him dig up my grass. How could my father let him do this? Clay knew I was there, too. He looked right at me through the window.

"He's gone." George was confused. He looked around trying to find where Clay had gone off to.

He came back into George's view, holding a tree.

"A tree? He's planting a tree?" George smiled. "Is it a," he stopped himself.

I didn't really need to ask. I could tell, from the shape of the leaves and the texture of the trunk. It was a sycamore tree.

~

When he walked out of the door, I thought back to the first time I saw him. How could anybody, ever, want to run away from George?

~

He looked at me with those eyes. Those, once again, dazzling eyes. And I knew that Clay was still walking around with my first kiss.

But he wouldn't be for long.

As we stood there, I realized after all these years, we never really talked.

"Do you need some help?" George asked, looking down at the tree.

"Yeah," Clay smiled.

But that day we started.

~

And I knew we'd be talking for a long time.

They both got down on their knees and started pushing the dirt around the tree.

Clay grabbed George's hand and looked into his eyes, just like the first time they met.

~

Those dazzling eyes.