A/N: Alright, in my world, the break is the two weeks before the week leading up to Halloween. Ya dig? Also, I want to thank everyone who reviewed!

A special shout-out to Ashley, AKA DragonNinjaAri over on fanforum-you have helped me soooo much! Thank you for putting up with my spazz attacks as I wrote this. You're the best, and the character of Leah Goldsworthy is dedicated to you!

Clare

Clare sighed with content as she wrote in her journal. The fall breeze was perfect: crisp and cool. She was slightly chilly sitting on her grandmother's porch, but that was to be expected since Elizabeth Adamson lived on the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. The chill was nothing a cardigan couldn't defeat.

"Clare-bear!" yelled Grandma Lizzie. Clare smiled at the nickname; Grandma Lizzie was the first person to use it on her. She shied away from it after the whole Jenna incident, but now that she and the aforementioned "friend" were on speaking terms again, she found it endearing as ever.

"Yes Grams?" asked Clare as she walked in the colorful kitchen to find her Grandmother baking strawberry cupcakes. Grandma Lizzie was the most eccentric person in Clare's family. Her kitchen reflected her personality rather well: One yellow wall, three red ones, white cabinets with bright blue handles and knobs. The counters were lime green and beaded strings served as curtains. Lizzie had Clare's mother at the age of twenty in 1971; she carried her hippie ideals with her throughout the decades. Clare never knew her maternal grandfather; he passed away when her mother was five. They never married, but according to Lizzie, were very much in love. Every time Clare visited Lizzie she wondered how on earth this woman gave birth to her mother. Lizzie was fun, free, liberal, creative and unquestionably kind. In short: everything Clare's mother was not. Despite her own conservative upbringing, Grandma Lizzie was Clare's favorite relative.

"Honey, do you want to make the frosting?" Lizzie wiped her hands on the smiley face apron donning her waist.

"Well, that depends; do I get to lick the bowl?" Clare grinned.

"Of course! Whose house do you think you're in?"

Clare hummed softly as she gathered the milk and other ingredients she needed to make homemade frosting "We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year…" She had been in Niagara Falls for 5 days and the break was proving to be just what she needed. The absence of her feuding parents, lack of schoolwork, and a general break from drama opened the box that contained her creativity and writing talents. Sayonara, writer's block!

"Clare, are you humming a Pink Floyd song?" Lizzie was confused. She had never heard Clare hum anything but hymns and the contemporary Christian version of Top 40 hits. She chuckled upon seeing a deep crimson blush appear on her granddaughter's cheeks.

"Um, yeah-I-I sort of like them. I've been listening to a lot of new music lately."

"My, then more than just your hair has changed. You seem livelier, Clare-bear. I've always been against your upbringing, your parents stifled…oh; I should just shut up…" Lizzie's rant faded into a mumble.

"I feel…different. I think it's good." Clare was concerned about what her grandmother began to say, but didn't want to push the issue.

"Who, may I ask, introduced you to one of the great bands of my youth?" The blush on Clare's face deepened. "Ooh my, is it a boy?"

"…"

"Okay Clare-bear, the frosting can wait. Sit your ass down and get ready to spill! What kind of tea do you want?" Lizzie began to get a tea kettle ready.

Clare silently rejoiced. She had wanted to partake in her grandmother's tradition for some time; every time Clare or Darcy needed to talk about anything they couldn't talk to their mother about, Grandma Lizzie listened, and she rarely had no advice to give. "Whatever you're having is fine, Grams."

"Green with honey it is, then!" Lizzie brought the tea fixings to the table and sat down. "Okay, while we wait for the water to boil, start spilling everything!"

Clare thought for a moment. She wasn't quite sure where to begin. "Well," she giggled. "I suppose it starts with a broken pair of glasses…"

Eli

"Knock, knock, knock-knockin' on Heaven's door…" Bob Dylan blared through a certain black hearse's speakers as its owner scrubbed the old tires.

"Well, well, Elijah…where is your punk music today?"

Eli looked up from under Morty's tires and grinned. His mother, Leah Goldsworthy, stood before him in sweats and an old ratty t-shirt that bore the Smithdale logo. Her dark hair (like Eli's) gathered into a bun on the top of her head. Her dark eyes (unlike Eli's) gleamed with amusement.

"For some reason, I was in a classic rock mood."

"Ah, my favorite. I knew you were my favorite son."

"I'm your ONLY son, mother dearest. And in regards to the music, I must be feeling old today…" he smirked.

"Oh, Elijah Isaac Goldsworthy, sole fruit of my loins, you WILL pay for calling your DEAR mummy OLD!" Leah reached for the sponge in the bucket of the soapy water and squeezed water on Eli's head.

"Mom! Ma! Stop it!" Eli rolled under Morty.

"Say you're sorry, or I'm getting the hose and forcing you out from under there!"

"Fine! I'm sorry!"

"Alright, alright. You're forgiven."

Eli crawled out from under his car. "Way to be mature, Mom." He smirked at her once again.

"Actually, I did want to have a "mature"-Leah made finger quotes-conversation with you. Want to go to Bubbi's for lunch?" She looked at him knowingly.

Eli sighed. He knew this was coming. Five days had passed since facing his mortality, and his mother graciously informed him that he was only going to get so much time before she demanded he talk about it with her. The school called their home, of course, but Eli pleaded with his mother to give him some temporary space, swearing he was okay. And he WAS okay. The situation was incredibly screwed up and of course he had nightmares about it. Of course he felt shame and regret, but truthfully, ALMOST losing his own life was not nearly as scarring as Julia ACTUALLY losing hers was.

He tells himself this. He swears he's fine, Clare's fine, and the two of them will be fine. Fine; it struck him as odd that this was a four letter word.

"Eli? Do you want some lunch?" Leah looked at him worriedly.

"Yeah, sure, just let me take a quick shower, since SOMEONE got me WET!" He retorted.

One shower and thirty minutes later, Eli sat across from his mother in his Grandmother's restaurant in downtown Toronto. He skipped on his jewelry and eyeliner today and didn't really look like himself.

"So, Eli. Are you ready to tell me what exactly happened last Friday night?"

"You know what happened, Mom." Eli hid behind sarcasm, saying his next bit very slowly: "Principal Simpson called you, remember?"

"Very funny, Elijah. Please, Son, tell me what happened. Starting from the BEGINNING".

"What makes you sure that the dance wasn't the beginning, middle and end?" questioned Eli.

"Because you're my son, and I know you. Eli, come on, we've told each other everything for years. That's how this works. Please don't turn into a normal kid on me. One who keeps secrets from his mother and is no fun. I don't think I could bare it!" She held her heart in mock hurt. Anyone with half a brain could see where Eli's sarcasm hailed from.

"Fine, Mom." He shook his head and thanked the waiter for bringing him his homemade spaghetti. Not exactly a Jewish food, but his Bubbi's recipe was the best in Eastern Canada. "There's this asshole of a Neanderthal at school named Fitz-"

"The one with the knife, right?" Leah looked pissed.

"That would be the asshole I'm referring to, yes." Eli concentrated on twirling his spaghetti on his fork. Stalling, because he knew the moment he let everything all out to his mother, it would become REAL. Clare, Fitz, the bullies, what happened that night…the way Clare made him feel. The way Clare caused him to forget his dead ex girlfriend. Everything would be tangible and all too…present. "Look, he was just a gigantic jerk. He ripped off Morty's hood ornament, refused to apologize, and kicked me in the nads…" He grimaced, remembering the pain. His mother looked quite angry for everything her son had said. "I…decided to get back at him."

"Oh, Eli…I thought we moved across town because you wanted a new start."

"Yeah, from Carmount! I couldn't live in that neighborhood anymore. I couldn't walk the same halls that…I couldn't…" he began to breathe far too quickly. No, he wouldn't have one now…he didn't have one before or after a fucking knife was pulled on him, for God's sake. He hadn't had one since switching schools; they were under control. Control. Control. He had it. Eli had control.

"Breathe, baby…" Leah was at her son's side, rubbing circles in his back. "Breathe, it's okay…slow down."

"I'm fine," Eli whispered, once again hating the damn word. "I want to finish telling you now, Mom".

"Okay". Leah moved back to her seat.

"Anyway, I sort of got him arrested," Eli waited for his mother to scold him. She didn't. "Fake ID. Canada's Most Wanted." Leah raised an eyebrow but remained silent. "Things got worse. He and his buddy Owen threw Adam through a glass door, Mom".

"That little bastard!" exclaimed Leah. Eli smirked; he knew Fitz hurting Adam would get a reaction out of his mother. She loved Adam, who was a regular fixture in the Goldsworthy house as of late.

"My sentiments exactly," deadpanned Eli. "Anyway, he and Adam fought, which was really my own fault…"

"How could that possibly be your fault?"

"Well, I sort of blew him off…"

"Eli!"

"Look, I just…wanted to spend some time alone with Clare."

"Oh." Leah didn't know much about Clare. What she did know was limited to the little Adam told her. Eli refused to talk about her when she asked.

"Yeah. I was an ass, Adam hung out with Fitz, and it didn't go well…" Eli took a deep breath. "We were fighting him in the parking lot the Thursday before school let out for break. Don't look at me that way, Mom-I had to help Adam out. We tried-I tried-to talk Adam out of fighting him, but he wouldn't have it."

"Ok, I understand that, but you should have-"

"I know, Mom, I should have gone to the principal. Believe me; I know all of these things now. Hindsight is 20/20, blah blah blah…"

"Alright. Go on."

"I thought Fitz was going to literally kill me for a minute there. But suddenly," he smiled at the memory and shook his head, "all of the kids came rushing out of the school. I didn't know it at the time, but Clare set off a stink bomb." He chuckled. "She just wanted the fighting to stop, all this time."

"Eli, honey, I get that this is the lead up, but it doesn't seem worth pulling a KNIFE on someone. No matter how much of a bully they may be."

"It gets worse."

"Then tell me. You know that nothing you say will change how I feel about you."

"I know, Mom it's just…"

"What?"

"I think it's time I tell you about Clare."

"Finally!"

Eli smirked. "Yeah, well, Mom, she's…amazing. She's kind, smart, witty, and just bossy enough to not be boring…and her eyes. Mom, her eyes make me forget…every bad thing that's ever happened to me."

"Those must be some powerful eyes," Leah commented gently.

"They are. I know I sound like a sap right now, but she makes me feel like I could love someone-other than you, of course-again. I just want to be around her, to kiss her, to make her blush the deepest red I can get out of her."

"Son, that's great! Julia-she would have wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy."

"I know. And I'm going to try to make it work with her. For some reason unbeknownst to me, the girl seems to think I'm awesome. EXCEPT for the fighting…" Eli fixed his gaze on the glass of water next to the garlic bread. "She sort of got caught up in it."

"She tried to stop you? If that's the case, then I think I'm going to like this girl. Hell, who am I kidding…I like her already because YOU do."

"Yeah. Mom, I'd love for you to meet her…she's like…coming up for air. I didn't even realize I was still drowning, but…man, when I'm around her…" Eli trailed off as Leah watched him in amusement. "Anyway, she went to Fitz. He said something along the lines of the fact that he would put me in the hospital if she didn't go to Vegas Night with him. Clare, being the girl she is, of course agreed." Eli's look hardened. "I was pissed."

Leah snorted.

"I confronted him. I knew that he was just using Clare to get back at me. After warning him not to hurt her, he gleefully informed me that when he had sex with her, he'd be gentle."

"That boy needs to be in a mental hospital."

"Mom, I know we agree on most things, but damn, I have to second that comment." Eli looked at his mother's kind expression, and silently thanked his God for her. "I tried to get Clare to slip Ipecac into Fitz's drink…l know, I know…"

"Eli! I'm the one that TOLD you about that prank!"

"Oh that's right!" Eli smiled. "I expect to be let off the hook for that one in your eyes then, Mom...Clare refused to do it, you know. Sometimes I think she might actually BE a Saint. Anyway, I went to the dance alone, to keep an eye on her. Plus, they were using a flat screen TV as a prize!" Leah laughed at the look on Eli's face; sometimes, when he got excited, he looked exactly the same as he did when he was five and allowed to have ice cream. "This is where I become supremely stupid…" Once again, Eli fixed his gaze on his glass of water. "All Fitz wanted was an apology…and I…I faked it. And slipped the poison into his drink myself." He looked up, searching his mother's face for disapproval. He found only a little. Mostly, he found pity. "Clare ran off to comfort Fitz, I ran off to look for her. When I couldn't, I decided to mope in the halls and listen to music. Clare found me-she knew about the knife, begged me to run with her. I'm not sure if it was pride or stupidity that made me refuse, but that's what I did. You know the rest."

"Eli…come here," whispered Leah as she held her arms open for her only child, which he gladly fell in. "I love you so much, Son". She stroked his hair. "The parental handbook states that I ought to punish you, but coming face to face with your mortality seems punishment enough…so I have a compromise: if you bring Clare over and actually introduce me to this girl, you're not grounded."

"Are you…are you BRIBING me?" Eli's grin matched his mother's.

"No…never…" the family smirk.

"Mom, she said she needed time. What if she doesn't want to come?"

"Just ask her when she comes to you. Women are kind of fickle when it comes to our feelings- as you grow older you'll find it to be both a blessing and a curse."

Eli could think of only one thing: I wish you were here.

Clare

"Writing comes more easily if you have something to say"

Eli-gold49 likes this

Clare smiled at the notification about her FaceRange status. Truth be told, she was a little bit worried Eli would forget about her. She knew that taking some space from one another was the best thing for them both, but it didn't stop old insecurities from swimming to the surface of her heart. Once she snapped out of self-deprecating mode, she shook her head in amazement; she knew Eli cared for her deeply. He wasn't KC; after all…he might actually know what it meant to care for someone more than himself.

Ring. Ring. Clare's cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Cl-Clare?" Sniffling on the other line. "I need my best friend right now."

"Alli? What's wrong?"

Eli

Run. Run. Run. His feet hit the pavement repeatedly; his child-sized Chuck Taylor's are ripped at the sides. Icy, chilling, filthy water seeps through his socks as he pounds through puddles.

"I'm going to get you…E-Liiiii!" A maniacal laugh draws nearer. "I'm going to pull every last pretty hair out of your pretty little head!"

No.

I'll run faster.

No.

I'll run faster.

No…

I'm never fast enough.

I'm falling..

"Holy Shit!" Eli woke up on his blue carpet in a cold sweat. Taking in his surroundings, he realized that he was barefoot, not in Chuck's. His feet were dry, not wet. Oxygen debt didn't plague him as payment for running. Safe, black and red walls with Dead Hand posters on them. Comforting pictures of his mom and a younger version of himself. The familiar vintage car calendar on the wall.

"Fucking dreams…" Something fell on his head. "Shit! What the he-" He stopped. "Oh."

In his hands laid an on photo in a homemade frame. Styrofoam hearts of every color were glued onto the plastic. Staring up at him from under her bright red hair and green eyes that matched his own, she taunted him. Dared him to even try to forget her.

Julia.

Clare

Clare smiled softly as she opened the big oak door to her Grandmother's house.

"Alli!" She embraced her friend as she dropped her hot pink suitcase in the entry hall.

"Clare! I'm so happy to see you!" The young Indian girl returned the embrace.

"Hello there!" Lizzie entered the room with her trademark look of kindness plastered on her face.

"Hi, Mrs. Adamson. Thank you so much for letting my stay here for the week!" Alli genuinely smiled for the first time in a week.

"It's no problem, Dear. I hope you and my Clare-bear have a great time! Make sure you go to the Hard Rock Café! Oh, and don't forget to see the Falls while you're here, of course! Now, I have to get to my Tarot meeting, but I'll be sure to bake you two plenty of sweets and make a fresh pitcher of Palm Arnold when I get back." Wrapping a bright purple shawl around her, Lizzie swept out of the house, into her green VW Bug and down the street.

"Wow, Clare. Your grandma seems so…unlike anyone in your family. That I've met, at least."

Clare laughed. "No, she is…so, do you want to go to the Hard Rock for Dinner? Stone Temple Pilots is playing there tonight. It's one of the first stops on their North American Fall Tour."

"I don't know who they are, but sure, why not!"

"Alli…are you okay?"

"Not now, Clare. Let's just have fun tonight, okay?" Alli took a sudden interest in the Georgia O'Keefe print on the wall.

Clare hesitated. Something was definitely off with Alli, something more than simply being cheated on by her boyfriend. Choosing to let it go for now, she offered a hand. "Come on, my grandma has tons of vintage outfits in her closet. Want to raid it?"

"Now you're speaking my language!"

Eli

It was a long drive to Pennbrooke Cemetary. Just north of Toronto, it took Eli a good forty five minutes to get there in Morty. Even though she would have thought it was cheesy, he brought two lilies. One of the quirky things that Eli loved about his first love was her silly superstitions: she thought even numbers were unlucky.

HERE LIES JULIA MAY JAMES

OCTOBER 12, 1993-AUGUST 3, 2009

BELOVED DAUGHTER, SISTER AND FRIEND

MAY SHE REST IN PEACE

Beneath the epitaph there was an engraved lily.

Eli knew her favorite things.

He knew everything about her.

This was why he had to sit at her grave on this chilly October night.

"Hey, Jules…we need to talk."

OOOOH minor cliffy! Chapter three won't be up until I get at least seven new reviews!

Tell me what you think! Like? Hate? Love? Suggestions?

Until next time,

Cortney

Oh, and P.S: Sorry about the lack of Eclare goodness…it will be worth it in the end, I promise!