What Did I Do?

The Confession

Clare's POV:

After the first encounter, school went by smoother than I ever could have imagined. Eli was my rock, even when I didn't realize it.

He sat in the back of classrooms all day, keeping a vigilant, watchful eye over my mental well-being. If I even thought about Drew, he knew and was thumbs on his phone, letting me know he could take me out of the class if I needed it.

I didn't, of course, but the sentiment was there.

Between classes, he was holding my hand, like old times, and keeping his eyes peeled for a vengeful Drew Torres. A few old friends of his tried to stop him to talk, but he politely told them he could not and guided me through the halls once again.

After school, he walked me to his van and opened the door for me to get in. He lifted me by the waist to make the ascent easier on my small body. He then closed the door and hopped on the other side of the vehicle effortlessly. He turned the key in the ignition and the engine sputtered to life, allowing us to escape the parking lot scot-free.

"That wasn't so bad, actually," I said to him once we were out of sight of the Community School.

"No, it really wasn't. I am kind of extremely glad I am done with that crap though," he confessed to me.

I laughed and turned back to watch the road ahead of us. Something was off, though. I could tell Eli wanted to say something, get something off his chest.

"What?" I asked him, coating my voice with sarcasm, letting him know that I knew there was something up with him. I removed my gaze from the street to look at his sculpted features.

We pulled up to a stoplight, and he closed his eyes, taking a second to breathe deeply before speaking to me. "I think you need to see a counselor or a therapist of something. Simpson mentioned getting an appointment with Ms. Sauvé." I was taken aback. I wasn't feeling defensive, just heartbroken.

"You told Simpson?" I asked, my voice small.

"I told him enough. He knows it involves Drew. He knows whatever it is happened this weekend. I didn't tell him any specifics. I promise you, Clare."

It was my turn to close my eyes. That made me feel better, but this entire situation's story was spreading like wildfire; it was overwhelming. "I don't know why I didn't keep this to myself. The more people who get involved, the bigger the problem gets," I expressed, frustrated.

"Clare, I understand that you are hurting, and you don't have to tell the whole world. Make an appointment, if you don't feel like talking about it with her, talk about something else until you are ready to start healing," he told me calmly.

I breathed, my eyes still closed, settling my mind. The van moved forward slowly, the light must have turned green.

"I'm sorry, Clare. I'm sorry all this happened to you, and I'm sorry I am pushing you to move faster than you are willing," Eli said remorsefully.

My eyes snapped open. "It is not your fault. None of this is. Especially not everyone finding out. That's my own dumb fault," I said, exasperated.

He didn't say anything more. We finished the drive to my house in an uncomfortable silence. I wanted him to stop blaming himself, and he wanted me to start.

We pulled up in front of my house. He started straight ahead, a pissed off look on his face. I gathered my backpack and moved to get out.

"Wait," I heard him say. I turned back around. "I don't like seeing you hurting, Clare, that's all."

"I love you, Eli," I blurted, my eyes wide with surprise at my confession.

"I love you, too, Clare," he repeated back to me. "Now go inside. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

I nodded, climbing out of the van and walking around the front of it. I reached the door and turned the doorknob to find it open. I glanced over my shoulder to wave at Eli, motioning him to leave, that I was safely able to get inside. He nodded and waved back, a neutral expression on his face.

Jake must have been home for the door to already be unlocked, right? Wrong. Well, sort of. He was there, but as I entered the living room, my mom and Glen were talking quietly to one another on the sofa.

"Mom? What are you doing home so early?" I asked, heading to the kitchen to grab a snack.

"Clare, honey, we need to talk," she said, concern coating her voice.

"What's going on, mom?" I asked, walking around the counter to sit on the coffee table in front of my parents.

"Why don't you tell us?" she asked.

"I'm confused," I said.

"Jake told me about what happened with Drew," Glen said, breaking his silence next to my mother.

I was speechless. I was frozen.

"Yes, honey, we know. Why didn't you tell us?" My mom tried to reason with me.

"Don't you think there was a reason I didn't want to tell you?" I asked defensively, standing up and hurrying up the stairs to my room.

I whipped open my door, entered then slammed the slab of wood closed again. I sat on my bed, pissed to the brink of my emotional capacity.

I heard a knock on my door. I didn't answer. My mother entered anyway to see me staring angrily at my reflection from across the room.

"Clare, I know how hard this must be for you," she tried to sympathize.

"Oh, do you?" Because last time I checked, your boyfriend didn't rape you." I knew I was out of line, but she had no idea what I was experiencing.

She took a breath to visibly calm herself down after my outburst. "You're right. I don't know. I want you to know you're not alone. You need to talk about it, and not just with Jake and Eli. We need to explore your options. It's not healthy to coop all these feelings inside."

I conceded, "I know, mom. I don't know if I'm ready yet. I'm coping, but I don't want to have to retell the story over and over at this point."

"Do you want him to pay for what he's done for you?" My mom asked, looking me directly in the eye.

"I mean, of course I do," I told her truthfully.

"Then let's go to the hospital. Right now. One thing we learned with Darcy, if anything good came out of that, is that we need to act quickly," she grasped my hand gently and pulled me to my feet.

I followed her. I felt as if I had control. I knew I was doing the right thing.