Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or the Characters.

AN: Whoa, it's been quite a while since I have been on here- maybe not that long, but long for me. . .And I must be crazy, because I'm starting a new story! A Claire and Quil Imprint story! Yep, besides, Jake and Paul, Quil is my third favorite in the wolf pack. . .or maybe fourth, I don't know, him and Seth are tied, but I am so fixated on the whole Quil and Clare imprint, it's so bizarre, and I wanted to do my own little version of how they fall in love and all that. But don't worry, I haven't stopped writing and updating my other stories, I am going to, I promise, I've just been so crazy busy lately, and I wrote the first chapter of this awhile ago, and just decided to edit and proofread it now, I wasn't even going to post this yet. . .but I felt the need to do it, so I hope it's alright, please tell me how you all like it, Please Read and Review! Thanks!

Songs that I listened to while writing this-

I'll Be by: Edwin McCaine

Iris by: GooGoo Dolls

Cut by: The Plumb

Chapter One

Late Night

The seven year old girl stared up at the older boy, with watery eyes, her expression pleading. "You're going to come for me right, Quil? We'll still see each other and stuff like that, won't we?"

The older boy- Quil, looked down at the small girl who was staring at him, waiting for him to answer her, to whisk her fears away. But he couldn't- not this time, not anymore. He crouched down, so he was closer to her height. Taking a few deep breaths to try and take away the pain in his chest, his eyes met her green ones. "I don't. . .I don't know," he forced out, trying to keep his face void of emotion. He knew he had to make this easier on her, it was the last thing he'd sworn to himself that he would do for her.

Claire's eyes widen, her lips quivering, as she reached her fragile hand out to him. "But. . .We're best friends. You said. . .forever, remember? You promised me," her voice was determined, dead set on making him remember, wanting him to tell her that he'd go visit her- that no matter what he'd come for her when she needed him to like always.

Quil bit his lip that was starting to tremble along with the girl's. This was one of the hardest things that he had ever had to do. The pain that was tearing at him was unbearable. His next words came out in a whisper, "We can't be. . . friends. . . anymore."

The girl took a stumbling step back, as if she had been struck. "Why-y-y not? Was it something I did?"

"No, of course not, Claire. You didn't do anything," Quil reassured her, trying to keep a straight face at her expression.

Claire looked down at the ground. She knew her parents were coming soon, and then they would leave. Go to the Makah Reservation. She had to convince Quil to still see her, she knew she had to. "Then why don't you want to be my friend anymore?" she pressed further.

Quil ran a hand through his hair, and looked toward the sky, wondering why he was being punished. How had he gotten into this situation. "It's complicated," he responded robotically, hating that he had to use the place holder.

Claire nodded, but still didn't understand. Sniffling she asked, "Is is because you don't love me anymore?"

Quil couldn't take it, not her question, or the pitiful way she was looking at him, or the situation that he was forever stuck in. He pulled her girl to him, hugging her gently, so he didn't hurt her. "God, Claire, no. I'll always love you. No matter what," he murmured already feeling the need to cry.

The girl squeezed him tightly to her. "I don't understand why you don't want to be my friend anymore. But I'll wait. No matter what, I'll always love you, Quil," she whispered gently into his ear.

It was too much. He had to get away. Away from there, away from her, before he hurt her. Swiftly, but carefully he pulled away from her, his whole body convulsing. He gave her one last longing look before taking off into the woods, running, and running faster, and faster, unable to get the little girl's screams for him out of his head.

"Quil! Quil! Come back. . .Please!"

They would forever haunt him.

Ten Years Later

I bolted upright in my bed, eyes wide and frantic, breathing hard, as my heart raced in my chest. My mind tried to recall the dream that had been interrupted, but my thoughts and memory was fuzzy. I could remember a young girl, talking and pleading with an older tall man. . .and crying, but that was it.

I shouldn't have been surprised though, I had had the same dream before- I know I did. I could feel it, the familiarity of it, but each time I tried to think of it, I wouldn't be able remember certain things, like names or descriptions.

Sighing I turned my head to the side, looking over at the alarm clock on my night stand.

It was almost four in the morning. I groaned, reached over to the table, and groped around for my cell-phone.

Flipping it open I looked at the phone. Two missed calls, and a text flashed on the screen.

I read the text, and smiled, I would like to be informed whether you're alive or not. Call me - Auden. It read.

Rolling my eyes, I pressed the number three on my speed dial, and pressed the speaker to my ear. It rang twice before I heard some strange noises in the background and an upbeat, "Hello," sounded in my ear.

Jumping back slightly at the loudness of Auden's voice I frowned. "What are you doing up so late?" I asked, groggily.

"Why haven't you called?" he demanded, ignoring my question.

Closing my eyes, I pulled the covers closer to me. I knew that he wasn't going to answer my question until I answered his first. Auden and I had been friends for the past three years. At the age of seven my family moved to the Makah Reservation, staying there only a year- most of which I don't even remember, and then when I was eight we moved to New York. When I started my freshmen year I didn't really have many friends, I mostly sat alone at lunch and read.

So, there I was one day, sitting under a tree minding my own business reading a Jane Austen classic when a football comes flying at me out of nowhere, practically taking out my right eye.

I was about to tell who ever had thrown the thing to watch where they were going when the person who threw the ball comes running up to me, all out of breath apologizing. I wouldn't have really found any of this significant, until he gave me a grimace and said, "Football's not really my thing, I don't really, um, know how it works."

Which enabled me to ask, "The ball or the game?"

The guy stared back at me and laughed awkwardly, "Both, actually."

I had given this guy a long stare. He wasn't very tall back then like he was now- but I don't make that much fun of him for because we were only fourteen back then, he had dark rimmed, square shaped glasses- which he still owns and wears-, along with bright reddish-orange hair, blue eyes, and freckles. He was technically your average nerd, who was very Irish- and still is, but I love him just the same.

"I was busy," I replied, shifting in my bed to get more comfortable.

"Busy?" Auden deadpanned. "Doing what? Counting the tiles on your floor?"

"Hey!" I hissed. "I am not that unsocial, where I can't get out of the house and do something that actually counts as productive without it being totally lame, unlike you."

"I am not lame."

I laughed. "Wanna bet? What are you doing up at four in the morning on your summer break, right now?"

There was a pause, and then a mangled cough, and then a, "Nothing much just chilling."

"Chilling?" I challenged, knowing him too well, for his own good. "Yeah, right, who are you chilling with? That stupid computer of yours that your addicted to? Playing Attack of the Asteroids?"

A defeated grunt sounded in my ear. "Fine, little miss, 'I think I Know Everything', what are you doing up at this time at night?" he asked, his voice cocky.

His question brought me back to my dream. The one that wouldn't stop reoccurring. I wanted it to stop haunting me, to stop making me wonder what significance it held. "I had that dream again, you know, the one with the young girl and the guy."

Auden knew all about the haunting dream. I had told him about it before, several times, I complained and whined about how it wouldn't stop coming to me and waking me up at nights. "Did you remember any new information?" he asked, cautiously, knowing how it upset me not knowing who the people were.

"No," I breathed, aggravated.

There was another short pause, before it became silent in the background. "Did you eat French-fries and chocolate ice-cream before bed again?"

I burst out laughing. Only Auden could make me laugh at a time where I was so frustrated and annoyed. "No, you dork, I only did that like once, and it was because mom forgot to make dinner. . again."

"Well your mom is such a busy woman, you know that," Auden said sarcastically. Him and mom didn't get along too well, she just didn't understand why I was friends with Auden. Apparently I was suppose to be some cheerleader like she was when she was my age, she expected me to date a jock, and win prom queen, not be best friends with a supposed geek. As if.

"Yeah, working as a manager at the supermarket is so time consuming," I joked along.

"Don't I know it," Auden drawled. "Is she still not allowing you to talk to your aunt, Emily?"

"Yeah, she keeps making up retarded excuses how Emily's too busy to talk to me, and how it would be best if I would just forget about her and 'leave them Quileute people alone'. But she makes no sense, she's the one who's married to an Quileute man, and I'm half Indian, not that I really look it, but I am. And God, Emily's my freaking aunt, she's family, of course she'd want to talk to me," I explained, all worked up now.

A few months ago I was going through photo albums, and came across a photo of a rustic skinned woman with scares across her face, when I asked mom who it was, she was just was all, "Oh, that's just your dad's younger sister." As if she were nobody important.

It was then that I started asking questions, like where she lived, or how come I didn't remember her. Mom got annoyed, and angry, ordering me to stop bugging her about it- which I haven't.

I just felt the need to know more, like I had to know more. I knew all of mom's side of the family, but barely anything from dad's. Something kept nagging at my heart, pushing me towards finding out more about this mystery that mom and even dad didn't want me to know about.

I was seventeen, I think I was old enough to find out my heritage. I knew that this summer would be one of discovery.

ANN: Hope it was alright, I really want to continue this story, along with writing my other stories, so please Review and tell me what you thought of this. . . I'll try and update as soon as possible! Thanks for Reading- Anya.