A/N Hi, fanfiction readers! Okay, I know some of you are reading my Jiberty story – "I'll Never Let Go" and I'll update that soon. This is my newest Eclare story though – because I heart them. It's sort of like The Notebook, but not exactly like it. Read and Review, and god bless!

A/n Again: Julia never happened

Eli's POV

"The summer of 1944 was the summer that I moved from Toronto to Massachustts. Cape Cod was a large, but not well known area in the shape of a look that outlooked many bays and certain oceans. I was nineteen that year. My parents couldn't afford a decent college, and I was earning my pay at a wealthy diner called the Garanza in Provincetown.

Every day I'd see many folks enter and exit, as I waited on them hand and foot. Some of the older women enjoyed telling me I was cute. Not that I'd disagree. For that matter, I was five foot six. Dark brown hair that fell over my emerald colored eyes. I'm not saying it's not nice being called attractive, because it is. But an old woman is not the kind of person I'd like to be complimented by.

My best friend in the whole world was Adam Torres. We had grown up together in Toronto, as children and when we were in high school, things only got better. Adam was the best companion a boy could possibly have. Some might say otherwise though. See, Adam wasn't like most other men our age. He was a female to male transgender, and in those times, he would often get teased because of it.

Back then, though, compared to what life is like now, I'd say that Adam had it fairly well. Of course, that wasn't when customers would find out about his condition, and decide that they would never come back to the Garanza. In my humble opinion, you shouldn't get so worked up about someone's physicalities, and start worrying about what's going on in that head.

The owner of the Garanza was an old man by the name of Roger. Roger Patterson, who was balding, with so many wrinkles and liverspots he could have been confused for some sort of ghost. Adam was his favorite, out of all of the other waitors. I'm guessing that's because Adam was the hardest worker. And even though he lost customers because of him, Patterson would never fire him. Which is why I respected Patterson more than the next guy.

Pay was well that year, but not too good. Since I had arrived in Cape Cod, I had learned that there was a war here. World War 2. Of course I had heard of it back home, but not that many people knew of it well, espeically my age. And all of the nation's money was pretty much being sent to the military. Adam talked about the war all the time, because his stepbrother, Drew, was in the air force, and was constantly sending him letters expressing regret and sorrow.

Me? I didn't know how serious war time could be. It had never really effected my life much, except when Patterson would say that it was emergancy drill time when all of the staff had to hide in the cellar incase of bombings.

There were only six of us in the whole waiting crew. Adam, KC Guthrie, Mark Fitzgerald, Dave Turner, Owen Milligan and I. I dispised everyone of them, aside from Adam. KC was often tormented because he got a girl pregant two years ago. Dave was always trying to suck up to Owen or Mark, which was why I had an issue with him. Owen hated Adam, because he was transgender. He would never say anything while Patterson was around, but when he'd turn his back, Owen would be plotting a wedgie. The worst though, was Mark. 'Fitz' as he was known.

Fitz and I had problems since day one of my shift at the Garanza. He was always trying to one-up me, and he certainly didn't like Adam. He was always tormenting him, or pushing me aside when we entered the kitchen. Fitz and Owen were best friends, which meant that together, they were even harder on Adam. Which meant that I could either be defensive or stand back and I watch. It wasn't the latter.

After work, Fitz would always try and jump me, or steal my pocket change. No one else ever noticed, except for Dave who would laugh and offer a high five – which wasn't returned.

Times like that were the hardest. But other times were easier. But usually, things were pretty normal. The rich would snicker at us, serving tables, and they would almost never tip. Adam says it's because their above us. I say it's because their lowly jerks who don't care about anyone. All the wealthy are like that, I had never met one that hadn't dissapointed me. That is, until I met her.

It was a rainy Saturday, and it wasn't busy. Dave and KC were playing gin rummy in a corner, while Owen was taking a plate away from a young gentleman. Fitz was in the bathroom. It was abnormally quiet.

"Hey, man, do you think Patterson'll notice if I have a beer?" asked Adam in an audible whisper.

I was surprised by his remark. Adam was filthy rich, and usually if he wanted liquor, he'd have a wine cooler. The Torres family was known in Toronto as the 'crown jewel' because they could afford everything and lived in the biggest house in town. Adam was only working here while they were on vacation, so that he, as his mother put it, could built character.

"Probably. Man'll notice if there's a tack outta place," I sniggered into the table I was washing.

"I can't even have one?"

"You sound like you're three."

"Never said I wasn't," Adam laughed and I joined him. That is until Fitz interrupted us with one of his comments.

"Never said you weren't what? A girl?"He cackles at his own joke, and Owen joins in. They thought they were so hysterical, while I just throught they were mentally disturbed.

"Yeah, Fitz, real mature," says Adam sarcastically. Once Fitz's tiny brain detects the sarcasm in his voice, though, there'll be no hope for my best friend. At the time, that's what seemed most important to me: protecting Adam. Until, I saw her.

Owen had grabbed Adam by his shirt while Patterson was in his office, Fitz was laughing. And then KC said, "Whoa." Dave turned in the same direction, and his jaw fell. Owen dropped Adam, who I helped up. Fitz just stared.

The girl who had just entered the Garanza was the most beautifal thing I had ever seen in my life. Her eyes were the first thing I noticed, they were a billion times bluer than even the bluest of skies. Her skin was porcelain, her lips so pink that they seduced by just being on her face. Her hair fell in cinnamon curls to her chin. She was wearing a low cut red dress that Fitz couldn't take his eyes off of.

She was perfection.

Little did I know that one look would have be fall in love her at first sight."

Xxxxx

I read the entry from my old tattered journal that day, and smiled to myself. Fifty years later, I still felt the same. My appearance had shifted, my dark brown hair had transisted into gray, my skin loosing it's 'flawlessness' as I had said and had become more of a remake of Patterson's.

A lot had changed in those years. The Garanza had closed down after the Vietman War, as well as old Patterson himself. A lot more has changed as well, but to find out that, well, your just gonna have to continue on.

The woman lying in the bed looked up at me. Her liverspots were raw, as was the newly sprouted mole on her chin. Her hair had grown long and white in the fifty years.

"Interesting," she said in a low whisper. Voices change as well, espeically when you're diagnosed with the soul-killer that is Alzeimer disease.

"It is, isn't it?"

She pauses for a second, before looking up at my face. "Who are you again?"

"Eli Goldsworthy, honey, I tell you everyday," I whispered, running my hand up the side of her still stunning face.

"And who am I?"

"Clare Edwards, my dear, Clare Edwards."

A/N: That's the end of chapter one! I hoped you enjoyed the story! If you want more – please, REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. I'll be switching back and forth between Eli and Clare now (Clare doesn't remember all their time together, Eli wrote every moment down, so he's gonna read it to her) and their past. Please, hit that button and review 3