REVISED CHAPTER! (Why didn't you guys tell me it was so badly written? Hah! I pretty much cringed when I re-read it. So I wrote it out again. Same stuff happens, though. Enjoy!)
I hiked my backpack up onto my shoulder, though today the weight of textbooks and assignments weren't getting on my nerves like they regularly did. In fact, I was sort of buoyant as I scoped out Quil's black Ford pickup truck in the school parking lot.
Quil picked me up most days from school- that is, unless it was one of the few days he was working a three o'clock shift. He was a forest patrol officer on the La Push reservation, on which there is a school that I attend. There are a few white kids, such as myself who go there. My mother and Emily are only half cousins- it's this really long and boring family tree that you probably wouldn't follow, but I'm only an eighth native and barely that- so I still get considered a whitie. But I have brown hair, and I'm not pasty white, though.
While I waited to see Quil's truck roll in, I noticed I was humming under my breath. Which brings me back to what I was saying earlier- you know, about the bounce in my step? Okay. Get ready for this.
Mulva Richrichardson, (yes, that's TWO Rich's) THE hottest guy in the ninth grade, asked me out. I know, right? Nice work, Claire.
So eight minutes later when I saw the black truck speeding into the lot, I didn't scowl like I usually did for having to wait in the cold Washington air. I knew Quil would probably be apologizing the whole car ride home, so I decided to tell him my good news before he could start. I skipped over to him.
"What's got you so happy today Claireykins?" he asked after he came out of the car to open my door for me. Yeah. Quil is the 'open ladie's car doors for them' type of guy.
"You. Will. NEVER. Guess." I sang. Quil was pretty much my big brother. He'd seen me at my worst (think mucusy-cough-flu illness I got three months ago), and I could talk to him about anything, including my super sexy new boyfriend. Probably.
"Okay, then why don't you just tell me?" He suggested after he got into his side.
"MULVA RICHRICHARDSON ASKED ME OUT!" I squealed. Yes, squealed. Don't get the wrong impression of me, or anything. I don't usually squeal. The only other time I squealed was when I got my period before my best friend- and then took back any excitement I had about 4-6 days later.
"M-Mulva?" he stuttered. He looked upset for a moment, then at seeing my confused face, make a joke about it. "You DO realize that that name rhymes with vul-"
"Yes. That joke got old in the fourth grade, thanks. And he's hot, and funny, and hot, and good at sports, and hot, and smart... did I say-" But Quil cut me off.
"Aren't you a little young for a boyfriend, Claire?" He asked.
"No. Jacqueline started dating in the sixth grade. She introduced her first boyfriend to our parents in ninth, which I'm in right now. Fourteen is a perfectly average age to start dating. And you're probably just angry because you've never had a girlfriend," I said defensively. I probably shouldn't have, though; he sucked in a sharp breath and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Maybe that was a touchy subject with him. I felt bad.
"Sorry. Bad breakup?" I guessed.
"No." He answered shortly.
"Girl you like doesn't like you back?" I tried.
"I am not interested in that sort of thing, Claire. Please drop it." He didn't say it meanly, obviously. He never sounded mean when he was talking to me (which, by the way, made me feel extra shitty every time I acted like a bitch to him). But his tone made it sound like there was something more there. Oh my damn. What if he was gay? I would drop it for now, while he was so upset, but he was one of my best friends. I would ask him later.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly.
He looked over then, his face surprised. "Don't apologize. I'm sorry for being mean. You don't deserve that. You deserve a hell of a lot better than I treat you sometimes. I'm sorry for making you feel bad."
I sighed. That's why I hated Quil. He always changed it around so he was the one at fault. Most people would love that- not me. I was always treating him like crap, and he said HE was sorry.
"No, It's okay. I was the one who was prying. I'm sorry I brought up Mulva." I said, looking out the window.
He grimaced for a moment, then smoothed his expression. "Is this what you want? Is this what will make you happy?"
I smiled and turned back toward him. "Of course it will."
He finally returned my smile then, his eyes blazing with something that made my stomach drop to my feet. He could always do that- make me feel like I was extraordinary even when I knew I was just a fourteen year old, green eyed, average girl.
"Then I'm happy, too. Let's go inside," he suggested, and grabbed my backpack for me.
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"Ugh! Who gives a crap about the Pythagorean Theorem? When am I EVER going to need to find the length of the missing side of a triangle in my life?" I groaned and pulled my light brown hair into a ponytail.
Quil had come inside with me, like most days, to help me with my homework. He actually seemed to enjoy it.
"I don't know, Claire," he said good-naturedly. "Maybe one day you'll be an architect or something, and you need to fit a triangle in on the building. Then you'll look back on today and go, 'Wow, I'm so glad that super-cool guy Quil helped me out with this.'"
I laughed, like he always made me do, and went onto my next question. I was so lucky to have him around. He was the best babysitter ever when I was younger, then the best 'supervisor' as I got older.
I checked the clock to see that it read four thirty. Ugh. Time for Quil to go to work, always the worst part of my day.
He groaned as he noticed this as well, and then packed up my binder for me. "When will you be back?" I asked, my face slipping into a frown.
"When do you want me back?" he asked.
"Later. Like, seven-ish?" I asked hopefully.
He thought for a moment, as if rearranging his schedule. "Hmm. Alright. I'll be here," he said as he kissed the top of my head. "Later, Claire."
"Bye, Quil," I said softly, gently touching where he'd kissed me. I didn't notice I was doing it until the front door slammed shut, jolting me out of my little daydream.
A few minutes after Quil left, my cell phone rang. "Hello?" I answered, thinking it was probably a friend from school.
"Hey. Claire?" A boy's voice sounded. Oh my god. Mulva!
"Mulva. Hey. What's up?" I asked, as my mother walked in. She knew that Mulva was the hot boy from school, so of course she came running in as soon as she heard me say his name.
"Nothing too much. Want to go to the ice cream place with me?" he asked. He sounded a little nervous.
"Of course! When should we meet?"
We continued the conversation, and decided we'd meet at the Jackson's ice cream parlor at five. My mom just about burst with excitement when I told her. Jacqueline walked in, and told me I needed to change before I went out with him. So by four fifty, I had my hair brushed, a little makeup on, and cleaner clothes. I started the short walk to the ice cream place after reassuring my mom I'd be home before seven.
As I walked into the small shop, I saw Mulva already sitting there. He smiled when he saw me, as did I.
"What kind of ice cream do you want?" he asked.
"Umm... chocolate chip mint, I guess," I decided after looking over the flavors (FYI- there wasn't that many to choose from).
"Two large chocolate chip mints, please," he asked the cashier. Then he paid for both of us, and we sat down.
"So, Claire..." he asked. "Why do you live in La Push? I mean you're not..."
"Native?" I finished for him, laughing. "My aunt is. Well, my mom's cousin, anyway. I call her my aunt, because her an my mom are so close. You might have heard of her. Emily...Emily Uley?"
"Yeah, I've seen her a couple times. Married to Sam Uley, right?" he confirmed.
"Right. Anyway," I continued, "My mom hated being away from her best friend. So she moved me and my sister out here when I was two. My dad has a really important job in Seattle, so he's gone six months out of the year, but he visits every other weekend for the six months he's out there."
"Wow. So, do you like it here?" Mulva asked.
"Yeah. I mean, I don't know any other place. I grew up here for twelve years out of my life. And I've met some awesome people," I said as I eyed him.
"Yeah...so have I," he said as he smiled back.
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"We should probably head out," he said at six forty-five.
"Yeah, probably," I said. Quil would be there for dinner, and I still wanted to make fun of him for the gay thing. Okay, I knew he wasn't gay. I just wanted to narrow it down- why didn't he ever had a girlfriend? He was almost thirty, but looked about ten years younger. And he was SUPER good looking. All my friends had crushes on him. And-
"Want me to walk you home?" he asked as he opened the door into the cool night air.
"Why not?" I said, giggling. Mulva was really nice. I mean, it wasn't love yet. Not even close. But he was fun to be around so far.
We started the brisk walk back to my house, willing it not to rain. He offered me his jacket when I shivered, and I took it gratefully.
When we got to my front porch, I turned around. Now It was the awkward part. The good-byes.
"Um... I had a great time," he said.
"Yeah. Me too." I replied.
He leaned in. Crap. Crap. I didn't really like him that much. No kiss. No kiss. Please, no kiss.
But I took it like a man. No, not like a man, but you know what I mean. I kept my mouth shut and my eyes open. It wasn't disgusting, but honestly. I didn't get butterflies with him, or anything.
"I'll call you this weekend," he said as he walked off.
I turned around as I heard my front door open. Quil was standing there. And by the look on his face, I knew he'd seen it all.
