I felt a resurgence of my earlier sadness at those tiny moments that we hadn't experienced together. I took a deep breath and reached out for the roses. Clay's smile was shy and uncertain, showing me that he was as clueless as I was when it came to rewriting our history.

Was it possible to go back to the beginning? To try and rewrite a history that had already come to define us? To change the direction of fate and see where it took us?

I gripped the bundle of overpriced flowers in my hands and gasped in surprise. I lifted my finger and saw a bright red blob on the tip. Shit, I should have realized there were thorns. The bite of pain reminded me that we had a long way to go. That no matter how beautiful the package, the hurt was still there.

And I wasn't sure how long it would take for it to go away. Or if it ever would. But I reminded myself that now was not the time. The hurt would be there for me to think about…later.

"Are you alright?" Clay asked, moving toward me. I stuck my finger in my mouth. The tang of copper sharp on my tongue. I nodded my head and moved away before Clay could touch me.

I dropped the flowers on the table inside the door and grabbed my purse. I joined him on the porch and zipped up my coat.

“Are your parents here? I should say hi.” Clay peered into the house.

“No, they’re out. But I’ve been given a very strict curfew of midnight. Otherwise I’ll turn into a pumpkin or something,” I teased. Clay laughed, clearly relieved that the parental meet and greet would be postponed for another time.

"You ready then?" Clay asked, his smile less painful and much more heart wrenching. That was the kind of smile that could make a girl forget everything else. And at one time I had.

Was I ready?

Hell if I knew.

But looking at his hopeful expression I knew that I could only try.

I placed my hand in his outstretched one and squeezed lightly. “Lead on, kind sir. I’m entirely at your disposal,” I said as Clay pulled me toward his car. His entire demeanor seemed to change once we were in the car and headed down the road.

He was happy and carefree and yes…hopeful. And I knew then that I really liked the look of it on his face. I only wished it could stay there forever.

“So where are you taking me?” I asked, fiddling with his radio until I found a rock station playing the Dandy Warhols.

Clay grinned. “Oh we’re going total high school cliché tonight, baby. Full on dinner, a movie, then maybe a little making out in the backseat.” I enjoyed his teasing as well as his excitement.

“Wow,” I breathed out. I looked over at him coyly. “That sounds just about perfect.” Clay’s hand reached out to rest on my upper thigh and my entire body clenched under his touch. My earlier insecurities aside, one thing was for sure, the attraction we felt toward one another was alive and well.

“We’re not going to Red Lobster, are we?” I joked, reminding him of our silly dinner the night of the Fall Formal. The same night he had lost it and declared his feelings for me. It had been a beautiful night. And a scary one. That was the way with Clay and me. The good had always been so intertwined with the bad, it was hard to have one without the other.

Clay’s face fell at the memory and I knew mentioning the night that was so full of turmoil for the both of us, was perhaps not the best idea. But then he seemed to shake himself out of whatever dark place he had started to go and smiled again. And I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding and felt relief that the moment had passed without incident.

“Nope, no Red Lobster. I’m doin’ it right, we’re going to Ruby Tuesdays.” I laughed then, deep and genuine. Clay joined in and this felt good. The two of us, together, enjoying each other’s company.

The restaurant was packed but we were seated almost immediately in a booth in the atrium. “Awesome! Easy access to the salad bar!” I enthused. Clay winked at me as he slid onto the bench seat across from me.

“What, you’re not going to sit beside me, like that old couple over there? We can listen to each other chew and stare at the wall.” I patted the seat beside me and Clay chuckled. We both looked over at an elderly couple one booth over. And yep, they were sitting on the same side of the booth. Neither of them spoke to each other, more focused on their food. Clay and I looked at each other again and broke into laughter.

When we finally calmed down Clay reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “This feels really good, Mags,” he said softly, his eyes sparkling. I swallowed thickly, feeling overcome with a different kind of emotion. One that could only be described as borderline euphoria. I was feeling high on being here with him. Of knowing he wasn’t going anywhere. The gift of that wasn’t lost on me.

The waitress came and took our drink orders and we were left alone again. Clay seemed content to look at me. With anyone else, that would have made me supremely uncomfortable. With Clay it just made me warm all over.

“How’s Ruby doing?” I asked, taking a sip of my soda. Clay swirled the ice in his water, poking the lemon with his finger.

“Ah, well, she’s the same. She did go into the shop this morning. So, that’s something, I guess.” He sounded sad and I thought hard about something helpful to say.

“You just have to give her time. You can’t get over losing someone overnight. These things are a process,” I said with a tone that spoke of experience. Clay’s eyes rested on me.

And there it was, the giant, tap dancing, tutu wearing elephant in the room. It demanded for us to acknowledge it but I was scared once that box was opened, it would reveal things I would rather not know. But that was my need for denial again. It was like a comfortable pair of slippers that my feet wanted to put back on. Crazy how being with Clay brought out those impulses.