Quil Ateara and the Impossible Claire
Chapter Two: The Barbeque
Claire's POV

Disclaimer: Gwah don't own it.

Quil sometimes acted like a big brother, but he was more than that. He was my best friend. Besides, why would I need a pretend brother when I had a real one?

I was rudely awakened from my nap with Quil by said brother. And a squirt gun. Quil was roaring with laughter. Me, not so much.

A noise came out of my throat that even I didn't know I could make and my 8 year old brother Devon was giggling like mad and running out of my room. I attempted to leap of my bed and hurtle after him, but an iron bar held me back. I swatted at Quil's arm, but he didn't release me, so I gave up. Sort of. "You brat!" I screamed toward the door. "Do it again, and I'll shove that squirt gun some place it doesn't belong!"

Quil, who was still laughing, said, "Chill, Claire. He's a kid."

"I was napping," I whined. But Quil's sparkling brown eyes took the anger out of me. They tended to do that, and it was far too much work to try to stay angry. Still, I muttered, "Reason number 516 I'm never having children."

My mother appeared in the doorway. "What's the ruckus?"

"Devon just attacked me."

"With a squirt gun," Quil added.

My mother fought a smile and disappeared again.

"Aren't you going to punish him?" I hollered after her. All I got in response was something that sounded like "clean up for dinner, Claire."

I picked myself up off the bed, Quil having finally released me, and shuffled to the bathroom down the hall. I gazed into the mirror and made a face at what I saw.

I had brown eyes, like everyone in my family except my father. I had inherited my father's fair skin. My almost-black hair was cut to about shoulder length, though it curled naturally, so it fell a little higher. My mother was furious when I had my waist length hair chopped off at 16. To me it was a small victory against her. Me, 1. Mom, 9,242. But no matter what, I did need to clean up. Thanks to good old Mother Nature, my eye makeup was no longer just on my eyes.

I turned the faucet on and quickly washed my face, not bothering to reapply my makeup. I headed back to my room. I was just outside the door when I heard my sister's voice inside. Undoubtedly, she was flirting with Quil. I rolled my eyes and entered. Sure enough, she was sitting on the bed next to Quil, her hand on his knee, inviting him to stay for dinner.

I always got the feeling that Quil put on a show for me, by flirting with my sister. He knew it annoyed me. He also knew that it annoyed me because I don't share attention well. And definitely not his attention.

So though he was sitting still when I entered the room, as soon as he saw me he started to focus on Carly much more. And so, naturally, I promptly kicked Carly from the room. If she beat me in everything else, she would not beat me with my best friend.

And I swear I saw that doofus smirk.

I put my hands on my hips. "Are you staying for dinner, then, or what, Quil?"

"Your sister is much more polite in how she asks," he commented.

My eyes narrowed. "Well, bully for my sister."

He rose from the bed. "Aw, come on, Claire." He wrapped his arms around me. I didn't return the embrace. "You know you're my favorite." He kissed the top of my head.

"You're such a cheater when it comes to me being mad at you," I muttered, wriggling away from him.

"Eh, you like it. And yes, I'm staying for dinner."

We went downstairs to dinner. My father got home just as we walked in the kitchen. I smiled and hugged him in greeting.

After dinner, my father went to his study, and my mom retreated to their bedroom to read. Devon, Carly, Quil, and I all collapsed in various spots in the living room to watch TV. I was lying down on the couch with my head in Quil's lap.

At nine, which was Devon's bedtime, Carly left the room with him to put him to bed. She never returned downstairs, having retired to bed herself.

I realized I was dozing off. I yawned spectacularly, and Quil picked me up, cradling me in his arms. "Time for bed," he said, and headed toward the stairs. I didn't protest.

By the time we got to my room, I was slightly more awake, and changed into my pajamas. Then I crawled into bed, and Quil tucked me in.

"Tomorrow's Friday. A bunch of the guys are having a barbeque down on the beach tomorrow night. Would you like to come?" he asked.

I yawned again. "Sure, sure. Sounds like fun."

He smiled. "Okay, I'll pick you up at 6:30." He leaned over and kissed my forehead. "Goodnight, Claire."

I'm pretty sure I was asleep by the time he had crossed to the door and left, closing it quietly behind him.

As usual, school was hell, even though it was a Friday. I don't do school well. As my mother said every couple of months when progress reports and report cards came out, "You're more than smart enough. You're scary smart. You just don't apply yourself." And there was no arguing with the lack of application. If it weren't for the fact that I had to be a student at school to participate in school plays, I imagine I would have had a hard time to convince myself to continue my schooling at all.

Being in between any shows, I had no rehearsal after school so I was able to go straight home. As I was walking home, one of my friends that I had met through theatre rode his bike past me. He recognized me, and then he hopped off his bike to walk beside it and waited for me to catch up.

"Hey Tony," I said.

"Hey," he answered, flashing me a grin. "How have you been?"

I shrugged, still focused on his smile. "Pretty good. You?"

"I've been great." He smiled again.

I'd always had a soft spot for Tony. I'd never really had any serious crushes before, but Tony was a little different. He was always a perfect gentleman, and I was a total sap for it. It was like he'd warped here from another age.

"That's good," I mumbled, always the inept flirt.

"So what are your plans for this weekend?" he asked.

"Oh, not much. Tonight I'm going over to La Push for a barbeque, but after that I've got nothing."

His brows furrowed ever so slightly. "Are you going with Quil?" Tony had met Quil after the very first play Tony and I had ever been in together.

"Yeah," I replied. Seeing him look slightly disappointed, I added, "But it's like a big get-together, you know? Everyone will be there. My uncle and aunt, and some of my cousins, too."

Looking slightly mollified, he smiled at me again. "That's cool. Anyway, here's my house." He started up the drive. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Oh, okay," I said, trying to hide my excitement. "Bye."

"See you later, Claire." He disappeared inside his house.

As I continued walking home, I mulled things over in my mind. Tony liked me. That much was obvious. Tony was the closest thing I'd ever had to a real crush, so it was exciting to me. But even he didn't conjure up the feelings that my friends always talked about when they had feelings for a boy. Figuring that was a personal problem, I shrugged it off and chose to enjoy the fact that a boy was not put of by my loud mouth, especially a boy that I actually felt something for.

I got home, and found Carly sitting on the couch watching some soap opera. She looked utterly enthralled. I rolled my eyes and went upstairs faster than was really necessary. I did some of my homework before Quil came over. At 6:00, I changed my clothes and checked myself in the mirror, fixing my makeup. I heard Quil's truck pull up to my house at 6:25. He was always early everywhere. I figured that it was probably a good balance since I had a horrible way of being at least ten minutes late anywhere.

Knowing Carly would pounce, I thundered down the stairs to get to him first. I had to unceremoniously brush Carly aside to get to the front door first. I opened it to see Quil's smiling, dimpled face.

He looked me over. "You look great," he said, taking my hand and attempting to spin me. The spin was a complete failure because I tripped over my own feet. He just grinned wider and led me out the door by my hand, calling a goodbye to a ruffled-looking Carly over his shoulder.

He initially opened the passenger side door to his truck for me, but I stood still and crossed my arms. He sighed heavily. "Claire, get in the truck. I forgot to bring my bike, and we are not walking to La Push." I wrinkled my nose at him, but got in the truck nonetheless.

Whenever Quil and I drove anywhere together, it was a constant battle over the radio. He liked his music loud and obnoxious. I preferred to actually enjoy the music by listening at a comfortable level. Usually by the time we arrived anywhere, one of us had snapped the radio off in frustration, and this time was no different.

We walked down the beach to where the bonfire was already started.

"Claire!" several voices chorused. I grinned. I never felt quite as at home as when I was with this group, unless it was when Quil and I were alone.

I rushed into my Aunt Emily's arms first, and she placed a massive kiss on my cheek. "Claire, you are so beautiful," she said, holding me at arm's length and looking me over as if she hadn't seen me in ages, when in reality I had dinner at her house the week before.

Emily always broke my heart a little. She was the truly beautiful one, and it always hurt me to see her face.

I went to Uncle Sam next. I was never as close to him as I was to Emily, but I adored him nonetheless. He gave me a hug and said, "Hey, kiddo."

As soon as Sam released me, I was enveloped by two strong arms from behind and lifted off my feet, while having the wind knocked out of me. "Claire, I swear to God you're avoiding me. You never visit me anymore, dammit."

I gasped for air. "I'm not avoiding you, Embry. Seriously. I'm not. I swear. Put me down." Once he had obliged, I hugged him properly, then kicked him once in the shin. He didn't even flinch, but he acted wounded anyway, and mock-pouted.

Jacob Black was behind him, as though waiting in line to greet me, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. Of all the Quileute men, Jacob was the most reserved, though I was told he hadn't always been that way. Giving Embry no more attention, I hugged Jacob tightly, though he only awkwardly patted my back in return.

I then greeted Seth, Leah, Jared, Jared's wife Kim, and Paul. Then the barbeque really began.

As darkness fell, we were all reclined in various spots around the fire, laughing and telling stories. I never wanted to leave, but when I started yawning every few seconds sometime after midnight, Quil insisted that it was time to take me home. I bid everyone a good night, then got back into Quil's truck.

On the drive back, it began raining profusely. I dozed, but I peeked my eyes open when Quil's truck stopped and I heard him mutter a string of obscenities. "Are we home?" I muttered.

"No," he replied, obviously annoyed with something. "My truck ran out of gas."

I was fully awake. "Well, how far are we from home?"

"Not very far. I guess I'll walk you there." He peered out the windshield. "And what nice weather for a walk."

I groaned but I got out of the truck. Within seconds I was drenched and shivering. Quil draped his jacked on my shoulders, but it didn't help much. His arm around me kept me much warmer.

I recognized where we were, even in the rain and the dark, and I knew that we were indeed close to my house. But trudging through the mud made it feel much, much farther than usual.

By the time we reached my house, I was sufficiently miserable. We huddled under the porch for a second, debating whether going inside soaking wet was worth the wrath of my mother if she found out, but we ended up going inside anyway. The house was dark and everyone was asleep, so we were as quiet as possible as we made our way up the stairs.

Quil grabbed towels from the bathroom while I snuck into my parents' closet to steal some of my father's clothes for Quil to change into. I met Quil back in my bedroom. I began to try and dry my hair with a towel, while Quil changed. When he stripped his shirt off, I blushed at his well-defined muscles and forced myself to look away.

My teeth were still chattering audibly and I was shivering so much that I dropped the towel on accident.

"Here, let me help you," Quil offered. He came over, still shirtless. He rubbed his hands over my arms in an attempt to warm me up. His skin was so hot it almost felt like he was burning me. Then he hooked his fingers under my shirt, saying "Arms up." I obliged, but when I felt his fingers brush the sensitive skin on my stomach as he peeled my shirt off, I felt my whole body tense.

Once I was free of my wet shirt, Quil's hands returned unnecessarily to my waist, burning my skin there. It was then that I realized that we hadn't broken eye contact since he'd come over to help me. It was then that I also noticed I was no longer shivering from the cold.

I involuntarily stepped slightly closer to him. I would later blame that on the fact that I was still chilled and he was always so warm, but that wasn't it. I was just drawn to him. His fingers were trailing up and down my sides. Then he raised one hand and cupped my face, the other hand moving to the small of my back. There was a feeling in my chest and stomach that I'd never felt before, and my eyes fell shut. As soon as my eyes closed, Quil suddenly dropped his arms from around me and backed away quickly.

My eyes snapped open. He was avoiding my gaze as he gathered up both his wet shirt and the dry clothes he'd yet to change into. "If it's alright with you, I'll just sleep down on your couch tonight. I'll deal with my truck in the morning. Good night, Claire." And before I had a chance to say anything, he had hurried out my bedroom door and closed it behind him.

I mindlessly went through the motion of changing my clothes, then I crawled into bed, still stunned by what had happened. What had happened?