Re: Ruby and Clint
Ruby’s stomach sank as it finally set in what this good deed was going to cost her. She could just imagine Clint wandering around in the woods, looking for the O’Reillys and finding all manner of bad things instead. He might not believe in as much as she did, but everyone knew to stay out of the woods. “I could take you,” Ruby finally said with a heavy sigh. “I’d give you directions, but it’s way out there. The roads aren’t paved and you’d fuck up your car.” His nice, expensive, Overlook car. She’d thought about keying it the day she’d found out he’d cheated on her and now she was sparing his undercarriage. What the fuck had come over her?
“Aw no, you don’t ... gotta do that,” Clint protested, and it sounded weak even to him. “My brother’s got a truck, you can just tell me where it is.” Even if he struggled to find it and even if he couldn’t borrow Marsh’s vehicle and ended up fucking up his car, that seemed better than cornering Ruby into taking him when she clearly didn’t want to. Nor could Clint blame her. He didn’t want to do anything to hurt her any more than he already had, he just wanted to be able to sleep at night again. This problem felt way bigger than any relationship drama between them, but Clint knew he’d been in the wrong and Ruby didn’t owe him any forgiveness or favors.
Normally Ruby would have happily gone out of her way for a friend, but this was Clint and the wound was still so fresh that spending any time with him at all felt like she was tearing out the stitches one by one. If it was anything else, she would have told him to go find someone else to help him, but this felt bigger than them. If he died because she was feeling petty and bitchy, she’d never forgive herself. “I guess I could write out directions and draw you a map,” she offered. “But if you can’t find it, let me know. I know how much it sucks.” She’d never been in a situation that felt so hopeless before, where no one could help her and she saw no way out. It had been such a weight off her shoulders to believe herself safe again that it felt wrong to withhold it from him, no matter what he’d done to her.
Clint nodded, his expression sheepishly grateful. “Thank you, Ruby,” he murmured. He had the urge to give her a hug -- really, he had the urge to glom onto her and cling and cry and just let all the stress out. Clint just knew better than to act on that. Neither of them seemed to have a pen and paper handy because why would they at a bonfire party? “You, uh, wanna just text it to me?” he asked, still looking a little lost. “Or, I think I got a notebook in my car, if ...” Clint trailed off and shrugged. She probably didn’t want to be alone with him in any capacity, even just long enough to walk to his car. The more space he could give her, the better. Especially with Jules in such close proximity to them, her presence pushing against the edges of his consciousness and amplifying his guilt. “I could bring it to you,” he mumbled.
There had been guys in Ruby’s life that she’d been able to brush off without a second thought, but for some reason she was unable to do so with Clint. When they’d been together, she’d felt special, like what they had was real and not some passing high school fling. Even knowing better now, it was hard to dismiss those feelings. Maybe that was why it hurt so much to find out she was wrong. He was just a boy, doing what boys did; she should have known better, which was why she was often as mad at herself as she was him. But when he looked at her like that, like he really appreciated her, the anger temporarily drained away. “It’s no problem,” she said with a small smile. “I’ll text it to you tomorrow morning. I know that doesn’t help tonight, but… I wouldn’t go out there this late anyways.”