~Broken Family~

Creme da la Creme a la Edgar

The second Gwen stepped through the doors, she regretted coming.

Everyone was mingling and finding their tables, chatting and laughing with one another as if their class wasn't half the size it was supposed to be.

She found an unreserved table in a corner, praying no one would come to it. Pretty soon, though, a few girls and one lonely dude wandered over.

"Anyone else sitting here?" a redhead asked cheerfully, rocking back and forth in her bright yellow dress.

"Um..." Gwen managed a shake of her head. "No."

"Awesome! Mind if we join you?"

"No."

She did. She really did. She wanted to hide in a corner by herself, where no one would bother her. But she glanced over at Sophie by the punch table, who gave her a look that said "Socialize or else!"

The one guy at the table was making the same face as her, looking like he wanted to run away to one of the tables filled with only guys. Ignoring the girls' sappy and bubbly conversation amongst themselves, Gwen looked around the room again.

There were still people arriving, but no sign of Erika or Clay or anyone else who used to be her friend.

"I'll be right back," Gwen grumbled, unsure if that was true or not. She pushed her chair back and started heading for the bathroom to get a minute away from all this.

"Gwen!" a familiar voice called. Gwen turned and saw Clay waving by the punch. He had two cups in his hands. Either he was really thirsty, or he had a date.

Gwen glared at him, then turned on her heel and continued for the bathrooms.

"Wait!" he called. "I have some apology-punch for you! Please just hear me out. I still want to be your friend!"

Gwen sighed, hesitating.

Well, she didn't have anything else better to do tonight.

She turned, crossing her arms and looking over at him with a scowl. "Yes, Clay?"

He handed her a cup with an adorably nervous grin, and she noticed his hands were shaking a bit. "Gwen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you like that the other day. It accidentally slipped out of Harley's mouth one day, but I swore not to tell. I didn't think it was a big deal, but I don't want to put our friendship on the line for it. If you like, I'll pretend like I never knew?"

Gwen smiled and chuckled through her nose, taking a sip of the punch. It had a little tang to it and left a weird taste in her mouth. "No... I'm glad you know, honestly. It's not easy hiding it. It's just...I don't like putting my identity out there, you know? I don't want those who know to get hurt."

"I understand!" Clay nodded vigorously. "I really do. I've got all kinds of things that I can't tell anyone. I really want to, but I don't want any of my friends to get hurt."

Gwen paused. "What do you mean by that?"

"I can't say, remember?" Clay looked away, back over his shoulder. Gwen followed his gaze to another table in a corner, where none other than Harley Keener sat with his bad leg up on a chair. He looked terrified.

"Harley came?" Gwen started feeling sick to her stomach. "But--but I thought---"

"Gwen." Clay gave her a serious look, green eyes sharpening. "He needed to come. He's not doing too well. It took a lot of convincing him to get out of the cabin."

"I don't care." Gwen angrily sipped her punch and glared at Harley, who had taken notice of her and looked even more scared than before. "He told someone my identity without asking. I'm not mad that it's you, especially, I'm just ticked that he did it without my permission. What right does he have?"

Clay stayed silent, staring at her face as if waiting for something to happen.

"What?" she demanded, raising her eyebrows. "I'm just telling the truth."

"Truth is relative," he whispered.

"What? What does that mean?"

She glanced over at Harley again as a buzzing started in her ears. He was still staring at her, fiddling with his black tie. She'd never seen him so dressed up in her life---Granted, his Harley jacket was on the chair behind him and he had a cowboy boot on, but still. He'd also shaved off his mullet, which made his hair seem several shades darker until it seemed brown from across the room. It sent a twinge of sadness through her. If they ever made up, she wouldn't be able to French braid it anymore.

Gwen blinked hard to clear her vision as the nausea increased. "I'm not feeling well," she announced, turning on Clay and heading for the bathroom again. Her legs felt wobbly.

She tried to throw her cup into the trash, but she was pretty sure she missed. Not that she cared---she felt like she was going to puke up everything she'd eaten that day, which was only a banana and some pretzels.

Shoving her way into the bathroom as her knees gave out, Gwen collapsed to all fours, breathing hard. The stone underneath her fingers did not feel like the cold tile of the gym bathrooms.

She realized she was alone and had wandered into the girls' locker room.

As her vision swam in and out, she saw Clay looming over her, looking regretful.

"Tut mir leid," he whispered.