Picking up the pieces.
It had been strange, going back to Arlington after everything that had happened, but with her father's encouragement, Claire gave in and returned. Gretchen was really supportive at first, and after about a month or so, things started to feel normal again. However, it didn't last long. After the story of Claire's televised jump started to blow over, after people stopped asking them questions - Claire had always suspected that Gretchen liked the attention, liked being associated with her, despite the fact that the other girl complained about it endlessly - Gretchen fell back into her old habits. It seemed Claire couldn't take a breath without the willowy brunette looming about, asking a million questions.
The girl wanted to know every detail of Claire's supposedly amazing life, and much of what she wanted to know, Claire had kept locked away; she didn't want to share it. It was too depressing, too traumatic, and Gretchen just didn't understand how difficult it was to talk about the things she had been through. Even the counselor (another thing Noah had talked her into, after he told her it was working for him) had trouble getting it out of her. She felt like everyone just wanted to pity her, that no one truly understood the things she had endured enough to actually help her cope with them. Gretchen seemed like she just wanted to live vicariously through Claire.
It didn't help that Gretchen didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with Claire, or with their relationship for that matter, and was quick to point it out whenever she had the opportunity. Eventually the blonde former cheerleader started to hide her problems, to push them down far and withdraw further within herself. Her father saw through her forced smiles, and was understandably concerned, seeing his beloved daughter's normally sunny disposition turn so dark. He urged her to find something, anything, to pull herself out of her funk. She searched around campus and on the Internet, coming up short. After her ordeal with the sorority, she was hesitant to try and get back into cheerleading, though she missed the sport. Aside from that, Gretchen disapproved of the cheerleaders, and Claire was certain she'd never hear the end of it from her girlfriend if she were to so much as mention trying out.
Claire thought it was stupid to say out loud, but she felt alienated from the outside world. She spoke to classmates and peers without really concentrating on the conversations they were having, and she tried to keep her demeanor calm and collected, or else Gretchen would think Claire was trying to date someone else. She kept telling herself that Gretchen wasn't so bad, that it was just because she cared so much. And it'd been so long since she had really tried to connect with someone else that she was afraid to, she didn't want to trust anyone else, she wasn't sure she knew how.
But she must have passed by the sign at least a dozen times before it finally clicked. One of the student support groups was sponsoring a penpal program. Each of the participants would be paired up with a student at another college, anywhere in the US, who was also seeking support. It was sort of a long distance peer mediation. Claire wasn't even sure why it seemed like such a good idea at first, but she found herself filling out an application before she could force herself to stop. She was vague about some things, but gave enough detail for them to be convinced that she did, indeed, need the support of another student.
Her eyes lingered on the box marked "abusive relationship" perhaps a moment longer than she should have, and then she shook her head, skipping it over. No, she reasoned with herself, I'm not being abused, it's all the other stuff that's making me unhappy. She almost marked the "sexual abuse or assault" box, but decided that since Brody hadn't actually raped her, it didn't really count. The "loss of family member or loved one" box got checked, and she underlined the words with her pen. She did the same to the "extreme physical and/or mental trauma" and "supernatural experience" boxes. Maybe her experiences weren't strictly supernatural, but she figured it was close enough. She also couldn't help but hope she'd get paired off with someone else with an ability, or even someone who knew about people like her.
After she turned in the application, she decided not to tell Gretchen about signing up, not wanting to cause another argument. The girl would be suspicious, and would again insist that there was nothing wrong with Claire, and even if there was, that she should be coming to her girlfriend about it, and not writing to some stranger. Claire could hear the whole conversation play out in her head, and she frowned, blinking away the thoughts. It helped that Gretchen hadn't yet gotten to the point where she was interested in Claire's mail, so it was best to refrain from mentioning it and keep it that way.
She did, however, tell her father, who supported and encouraged her decision, but urged her to be careful how much personal information to give out. Claire had been expecting as much from Noah, and so she was pleased that he approved. He seemed indifferent when she mentioned that she wasn't going to tell Gretchen, which suggested that perhaps Noah was starting to get concerned about Claire's relationship and its effect on her emotional health. But he didn't say anything, just looked her over carefully, a look in his eyes that Claire recognized as his acceptance of her adulthood. Though he was still very protective of his daughter, she was an adult now, and this was something she had to either deal with herself or ask for help dealing with. At least until things got out of hand, and in Noah's eyes they hadn't appeared to have gotten to that point yet. He'd let this sleeping dog lie until it bared its teeth.
Claire was glad to have something to look forward to; either receiving the first letter in the mail or the notice with her penpal's address - whichever came first. She kept her excitement as hidden as her disappointment and all the other emotions she was used to hiding, trying to wonder who she'd be writing to. After much thought on this, she decided that she didn't much care, as long as they actually wrote her regularly.
It became a game to her, checking her mailbox every day without Gretchen noticing and wondering what she was waiting for. Strange, Claire thought, the things that amused you when you let them.
The girl wanted to know every detail of Claire's supposedly amazing life, and much of what she wanted to know, Claire had kept locked away; she didn't want to share it. It was too depressing, too traumatic, and Gretchen just didn't understand how difficult it was to talk about the things she had been through. Even the counselor (another thing Noah had talked her into, after he told her it was working for him) had trouble getting it out of her. She felt like everyone just wanted to pity her, that no one truly understood the things she had endured enough to actually help her cope with them. Gretchen seemed like she just wanted to live vicariously through Claire.
It didn't help that Gretchen didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with Claire, or with their relationship for that matter, and was quick to point it out whenever she had the opportunity. Eventually the blonde former cheerleader started to hide her problems, to push them down far and withdraw further within herself. Her father saw through her forced smiles, and was understandably concerned, seeing his beloved daughter's normally sunny disposition turn so dark. He urged her to find something, anything, to pull herself out of her funk. She searched around campus and on the Internet, coming up short. After her ordeal with the sorority, she was hesitant to try and get back into cheerleading, though she missed the sport. Aside from that, Gretchen disapproved of the cheerleaders, and Claire was certain she'd never hear the end of it from her girlfriend if she were to so much as mention trying out.
Claire thought it was stupid to say out loud, but she felt alienated from the outside world. She spoke to classmates and peers without really concentrating on the conversations they were having, and she tried to keep her demeanor calm and collected, or else Gretchen would think Claire was trying to date someone else. She kept telling herself that Gretchen wasn't so bad, that it was just because she cared so much. And it'd been so long since she had really tried to connect with someone else that she was afraid to, she didn't want to trust anyone else, she wasn't sure she knew how.
But she must have passed by the sign at least a dozen times before it finally clicked. One of the student support groups was sponsoring a penpal program. Each of the participants would be paired up with a student at another college, anywhere in the US, who was also seeking support. It was sort of a long distance peer mediation. Claire wasn't even sure why it seemed like such a good idea at first, but she found herself filling out an application before she could force herself to stop. She was vague about some things, but gave enough detail for them to be convinced that she did, indeed, need the support of another student.
Her eyes lingered on the box marked "abusive relationship" perhaps a moment longer than she should have, and then she shook her head, skipping it over. No, she reasoned with herself, I'm not being abused, it's all the other stuff that's making me unhappy. She almost marked the "sexual abuse or assault" box, but decided that since Brody hadn't actually raped her, it didn't really count. The "loss of family member or loved one" box got checked, and she underlined the words with her pen. She did the same to the "extreme physical and/or mental trauma" and "supernatural experience" boxes. Maybe her experiences weren't strictly supernatural, but she figured it was close enough. She also couldn't help but hope she'd get paired off with someone else with an ability, or even someone who knew about people like her.
After she turned in the application, she decided not to tell Gretchen about signing up, not wanting to cause another argument. The girl would be suspicious, and would again insist that there was nothing wrong with Claire, and even if there was, that she should be coming to her girlfriend about it, and not writing to some stranger. Claire could hear the whole conversation play out in her head, and she frowned, blinking away the thoughts. It helped that Gretchen hadn't yet gotten to the point where she was interested in Claire's mail, so it was best to refrain from mentioning it and keep it that way.
She did, however, tell her father, who supported and encouraged her decision, but urged her to be careful how much personal information to give out. Claire had been expecting as much from Noah, and so she was pleased that he approved. He seemed indifferent when she mentioned that she wasn't going to tell Gretchen, which suggested that perhaps Noah was starting to get concerned about Claire's relationship and its effect on her emotional health. But he didn't say anything, just looked her over carefully, a look in his eyes that Claire recognized as his acceptance of her adulthood. Though he was still very protective of his daughter, she was an adult now, and this was something she had to either deal with herself or ask for help dealing with. At least until things got out of hand, and in Noah's eyes they hadn't appeared to have gotten to that point yet. He'd let this sleeping dog lie until it bared its teeth.
Claire was glad to have something to look forward to; either receiving the first letter in the mail or the notice with her penpal's address - whichever came first. She kept her excitement as hidden as her disappointment and all the other emotions she was used to hiding, trying to wonder who she'd be writing to. After much thought on this, she decided that she didn't much care, as long as they actually wrote her regularly.
It became a game to her, checking her mailbox every day without Gretchen noticing and wondering what she was waiting for. Strange, Claire thought, the things that amused you when you let them.