"Um...wow. Thanks," I said in absolute and utter amazement. Clay stood at my doorstep wearing dark jeans, a pressed blue collared shirt, black wool coat and holding the largest bouquet of roses I had ever seen. It was obvious he had checked all of the required boxes on this "date". Down to his perfectly slicked back hair and over eager expression.

In the previous incarnation of our relationship we sort of skipped the whole "dating" thing.

Somewhere between saying h.e.l.lo and diving headfirst into the drama we had forgotten the basics. Our love hadn't been typically teenage in any way. We had gone zero to a million without so much as a trip to the movies or an uncomfortable dinner at Applebee's while we chatted about favorite bands and most embarra.s.sing moments.

Looking at Clay all dolled up and standing almost timidly in front of me, I realized how much we had missed. How in the heat of our intense and crazy love we had forgotten the most important step in any relationship...the first date.

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. s.h.i.t, 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?

h.e.l.l 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 cliche 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 pa.s.sed 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.

"No, I guess not," Clay replied heavily. We were saved from continuing the entirely too serious conversation by the reappearance of our waitress. After we gave her our food orders, I was desperate to move onto something a bit easier to stomach before eating.

"So, I've been thinking about getting a tattoo," I told him shyly. Clay's eyebrows rose.

"Really? What would you get?" he asked me. I rooted through my purse and found a pen. Pulling the cap off with my teeth, I grabbed one of the beverage napkins and quickly drew a symbol. It looked like a lopsided upside down U.

Clay pulled the napkin closer and studied it. "What is it?" he traced his finger over the groove from my pen.

"It the rune Uruz. It's for healing, endurance, courage. I found it in one of the books Ruby gave me a few weeks back. It just, I don't know, made sense. I like what it stands for." I flipped my hand over and touched the sensitive skin on the underside of my wrist. "Just a small one, right here."

Clay slid his finger along the curve of my wrist, rubbing the spot I had indicated. I hoped he wouldn't think I was stupid. But there was something empowering about the symbol. As though branding it on my body would remind me that I possessed those qualities, even when they were hard to find.

"I like it. In fact, it sounds perfect." His fingers dropped from my skin and I pulled my hand back into my lap. Clay's lips quirked into a grin. "Ruby would love it. You should tell her about it. h.e.l.l, she'll probably want to go with you to get it." The seriousness of the moment pa.s.sed and I felt myself back on even footing.

"Yeah, maybe I'll ask her. I was actually thinking of getting it for my birthday." Clay's smile spread.

"Was that a hint? Trying to make sure I don't forget your birthday?" he joked and I felt my face flush.

"No, really. I was just saying," I stuttered, feeling like an idiot.

Clay nudged my foot with his. "As if I could forget your birthday," he said quietly and my insides quivered at the soft look in his eyes.

We ate our dinner and talked. About everything and nothing at all. We seemed to reach an unspoken understanding to leave the heavier stuff for later. Right now, we simply enjoyed each other's company. After Clay paid the bill, we slid out of the booth and he helped me into my coat, his hands lingering as they pulled it up over my arms.

"Ready for part two of our stereotypically normal date?" Clay asked me after we were buckled up in his car.

"Lead on! I'm ready for some more cliched date madness."

And that's what we did. We watched a movie, choosing a lighthearted comedy that had us both cracking up. We shared a tub of popcorn and we playfully fought over the carton of Milk Duds. Clay held my hand the whole time, slowly rubbing the pad of his thumb along the skin between my thumb and forefinger. It was so thankfully simple.

We saw a few people from school and I knew they were watching us like we were animals at the zoo. But even that couldn't ruin our good time.

After the movie, we still had an hour until I had to be at home, so Clay drove us outside of town. It wasn't until he pulled down a small dirt road that I knew where he was taking us. Killing the engine once we got to our destination, I turned to him, pointing my finger into his chest.

"No swimming tonight, we'll freeze our b.u.t.ts off," I warned and Clay brought my finger up to his lips.

"No swimming. Hypothermia wasn't part of my plans for you tonight," he said, his voice taking on a decidedly seductive tone. Hmmm, what exactly did he have planned for me tonight? If it involved his hands and tongue then I was ready to put said plan into action. He opened his car door and came around to the other side to open mine. Climbing out, I rubbed my arms, feeling the night's chill.

Clay got a thick quilt out of the trunk and laid it down on the ground. He pulled me down beside him and I tried not to shiver as the cold ground seeped through the blanket. "It's not exactly warm out, you know." I tried not to whine, but I was starting to shiver.

Clay wrapped me in his arms and pulled the blanket up around us. He nuzzled his cold nose into the side of my neck. "Is that better?" he whispered and I nodded. I wasn't feeling the cold anymore. As long as he held me like this, there would be no complaining out of me.

"Thank you for a wonderful night," Clay said into my hair, kissing the corner of my eye. I relaxed into him, leaning my head back to look up at the clear night sky.

"I never thought we'd get here," I remarked quietly. Clay's grip tightened.

"Me either. But we are. And it makes me feel like just maybe everything else was worth it. If it brought us to this point." I felt his fingers in my hair and when I shivered this time it had more to do with my whacked out hormones than the cold air.

"I've really missed you. It killed me not being able to talk to you. To not know how you were doing." I turned to look at Clay. "I want to be able to ask how things are with you. If you're still taking your medication. If therapy is working. I want to know about your time in treatment. I want to ask you a million and one questions, but I'll be honest with you, I'm scared to. I suppose it's because I worry that I won't necessarily like the answers. That probably sounds horribly unsupportive but I just wanted you to know how I felt."

I couldn't believe I had just said all that. But there was something about being here with him like this that hit my honesty b.u.t.ton and I couldn't sit quietly and pretend that these thoughts weren't swirling around in my head.

Clay ran his hand through his hair, a total giveaway that he was nervous and unsure. "I want to answer your questions. I really do. I want to put these fears of yours to rest. But at the same time, I'm worried I'll bring us back to that place we were before. When everything was about me and my stuff. I don't want that for us this time. It wasn't fair to you."

Gripping the blanket around me, I slithered onto his lap, my legs straddling him and I put my arms around his chest. Resting my cheek over his heart I could hear how fast it was beating. Past experience told me that talking about this could bring about a potential meltdown. Clay didn't have a history of being very receptive to discussing his mental illness. But if we were both serious about being totally open, then I couldn't tip toe around the bigger issues.

"But, Clay, if we don't talk about it, things won't change. You and I spent way too much time ignoring what was going on. We can't do that again," I pleaded.

I felt Clay take a deep breath, my body rising and falling with his. His fingers curled into tight fists as he held me. This was an important moment. For both of us. Denial and mistrust had characterized our relationship for so long. Nothing but total honesty would be welcome from here on out.

"It's hard. Every day, every minute, is a struggle," he began. I sat up so that I could look at him. He stared off to the side, his jaw tense.

"When I was admitted to the Grayson Center, I was a mess. After everything that happened in North Carolina, I wasn't thinking clearly. I was so screwed up in the head that on my first night there, I tried to climb out of my window." I wish I could have been surprised by his revelation but I wasn't. I remembered all too well the state he was in when I had left him that hospital room in the hands of the two people who loved him the least, even when it was their job to support him.

"I was caught of course. And I spent five days on some heavy duty tranquilizers. I was kept numb and emotionless until I was able to start dealing with things. You know you're in a bad place when drool starts to crust over on your face because it's been there for so long," Clay grimaced and I blanched.

"Well, that's a really gross image," I muttered. All I could think about was the movie Shutter Island and the electroshock therapy and patients wandering around in long white gowns.

Clay gave a humorless laugh before returning to his story. "I was poked and prodded so much that I felt like some sort of science experiment gone badly, but I just didn't care. I was past worrying about myself. I hated my parents, I hated myself, I hated the staff, my only thought was biding my time until I could leave. And I knew once that happened, I would make sure to finish what I had started in that motel room."

My heart was hammering in my chest. This is exactly what I was afraid of. This was everything I had feared for him when his parents took him away. To know that he had been alone and suffering was like a knife to my gut.

I discreetly brushed away the tears that had silently made their way down my cheeks, making sure that he didn't see how much his words were hurting me. I knew that if he saw, he may shut down and not talk about it at all. And I didn't want that, even though his story was tearing me apart.

"But at some point, it all changed. I'm not sure what did it exactly. Maybe it was the new medication. Once I was off the Lithium and started taking the Tegretol, I started to feel...well, not better exactly, but I wasn't experiencing the out of control swings anymore. The f.u.c.ked up thing was I missed the mania. I still miss it. I liked the person I was when I was feeling that high." He sounded almost wistful when talking about his manic swings. I didn't understand how he could ever want to feel like that, but I didn't say anything. The truth was I'd never understand any of this. I could only listen and support him.

"But you're still taking your meds, right?" I had to ask. His refusal to take his medication had been our biggest problem. He needed them. He couldn't function without them. I wasn't sure there would ever be a day I didn't worry whether he was taking them or not.

Clay met my eyes, they burned straight into mine. "Yes, Maggie. I haven't missed a pill since I started the Tegretol. I swear to you, I won't do that to myself again," he said firmly and with total conviction. My belly uncoiled a bit.