Part Four: Claire
I look towards Jan and I know, I just know, that she’s getting pissed off. I don’t blame her though. To tell the god honest truth, I’m starting to get pissed off too.
I can’t show them that though.
In the first place, why would someone like me get pissed off at something like this? I have no reason to.
Or at least I have no reason that I would be comfortable enough telling people about.
So all I do is stay put and wait for what’s next. I’m sure soon, something’s going to come up and I’d be expected to do what I do best. Pick up the pieces.
Sometimes, it just gets too hard being myself. Being the one person who sees all, who understands everything, who is entrusted with deep secrets and hidden feelings when I can’t even tell anyone how I feel.
How I really feel.
I’m the sturdy one. The constant.
Everyone sees Jan as the strong one, but everyone’s also aware that she has issues. I may be the only person who actually knows what’s wrong, but everyone’s pretty sure there’s that something just hovering behind her. That aura of angst that makes her indifferent and apathetic.
Lizzie may look as normal as the next person, but everyone knows she’s the boy crazy girl. You know, the one who’d do anything for her boyfriend? So yes, she’s got issues too. Lizzie can stoop as low as stalking a guy she just met at a bar, for Pete’s sake. How crazy can you get after that?!
And Perrie. Perrie, oh Perrie. She’s the blind moron. Do I really need to elaborate some more?
As for me? I’m the rope that binds our little group together. I’m expected to ground all four of us to the real world. I’m this one person who can make sense of everything. The one who keeps all of us grounded.
The sturdy element. The constant.
Fuck, I hate it.
I hate the responsibility of being, well, me. Claire.
Especially at times like this when there’s just one thing I want to do. Wanna know what that is?
I want to stand up, shout everything I’m feeling until I have no voice left, and just bang someone’s head on the table until she finally, finally gets it.
Who, you ask?
No, I’m not telling.
Not in a million fucking years, no.
Jan stands up and looks pointedly at me, “I’m going to the washroom.” Without acknowledging the other two occupants of the table, she heads to the right where the washroom is at.
I look briefly towards Jan’s retreating figure before turning back to our table and instantly meeting Perrie’s concerned gaze.
“Is something wrong with Jan?”
Biting my inner lip is all I could do not to sigh. Perrie’s being an idiot again.
I look to Perrie’s side and see Lizzie. Our eyes meet before Lizzie turns to stare down at the pristine silver table. Perrie sees this and she turns to gently nudge the other girl, brows now furrowed.
“Liz, know what’s wrong with Jan?”
“Nothing’s wrong with Jan,” I interject before Lizzie can speak up. She looks up at me but I stand up, the metallic chair making a squeaky noise with the floor. “I’ll go see what’s up, but I’m sure it’s nothing.”
It’s Perrie’s voice I hear before I turn to leave for the washroom. “Okay, make sure she’s okay.”
Sometimes, it’s cute how Perrie just seems like a naïve child. But times like these just make me sad to think of how oblivious she is.
The washroom is small with only two cubicles, a sink, and a mirror. The moment I enter, I see no one and think for a second that Jan’s gone. But then, I realize that she’s just inside the only occupied cubicle and after a while, comes out and stands in front of the sink and mirror. We stand side by side.
I stare at her reflection on the mirror. She stares back.
“You okay?”
“Do you honestly think I’m okay, Claire?”
I sigh.
“Did you just see what was happening there? For god’s sake, Claire!”
“I know. I have eyes too,” I shake my head. I can’t look her in the eye now. It’s too much for me to see the pain in hers, but I know it’ll be more painful if she realizes what the eyes staring back at her reflect.
“I mean, I know, for god’s sake, I accept it. Nothing’s going to happen; I know that. She’s never going to notice me. Again, I know that. I’ve accepted it. But, fuck Claire! This one, I can’t accept.”
“Jan…”
“No, Claire. This one, I don’t know how to accept.”
There’s silence. It’s awkward and it’s like I’m talking to some part of Jan but the rest is just dying and I don’t know what to do.
“What do I do, Claire?”
Jan is looking at my reflection on the mirror and I do my level best to meet her gaze this time. It doesn’t matter at this point if she sees what my own eyes cannot hide because I know for sure she won’t understand it. Not when she’s being like this.
Not when all four of us are now in this tangled mess of secrets.
“What do I do? Tell me what to do, please.”
“I don’t know what to say, Jan. Honestly.”
This time, it’s Jan who sighs and looks down. She holds on to the sink, probably for support. Just to hold on to something. Not to fall completely.
But she knows otherwise.
We both know otherwise.
“Perrie wants to know what’s wrong,” I tell her in a soft but declarative tone.
“Well, you can go tell her to fuck off.”
“Okay,” and with this, she looks up again at our reflections, a small smile now on her face. I smile too and Jan shakes her head. The mood’s a little lighter. There’s tension, yes, but now we can handle it.
“I know it’s not Perrie’s fault.”
“Neither is it yours. Neither is it Lizzie’s.”
“Why can’t I just fall for someone else? You know, like that cute girl in my Art Studies class? The one who keeps checking me out?” Jan says this still with the smile and I’m relieved to find that the smile isn’t as pained as I would have expected given the situation.
“Because the Art Studies girl doesn’t obsess over her Buffy DVD collection, doesn’t cram a Philo major project the day before and still ace it, doesn’t stress over a Calc exam like it’s the end of the world, doesn’t make sure her fridge is always stuck with sodas of varying fruity flavors, and doesn’t keep your gift on her bedside even if we all know it’s a sucky alarm clock,” Jan laughs a little and I smile that she’s now relaxed. “Because the Art Studies girl isn’t as sweet, and as clueless as Perrie. Because we can’t really control who we fall in love with, Jan. Even if we want to.”
“God, this hurts.”
“I know.”
Jan closes the distance between us and I embrace her as tightly as possible. I want to tell her she’s not alone. That she doesn’t have to be hurting alone.
That I don’t want to be hurting alone either.
But I don’t say anything. I just wrap my arms around her and she does the same.
“Thank you, Claire. Thank you for just being you.”
And this time, I forget that sometimes, I hate being myself.
(Tbc)