Loving the encouragement! Hopefully this chapter explains some of the comments you guys had.

Kiddo

School that day was hell. By my last period class, I was not only ready for school day to be over, but also ready to finish my Freshman year entirely. I was sick of sitting through class and having teachers trying to teach me things that I already knew.

Not that I would ever mention it to anyone, though. I had made that mistake before and it ended up getting me transferred into high school halfway through the year. I could take two more weeks of total damnation.

"Hey, Claire." Amy poked her head around my doorway, brandishing a mascara wand in one hand. "Are you going to be here for a bit? Some of the girls and I are going back to the school to paint props for prom and Mom's expecting an important call. When it comes, can you take it?"

"I don't plan on moving anytime soon." I told her, not bothering to look at her.

"Alright. Remember not to play with matches. Catch you later." She pulled her head away, humming lightly.

I groaned lightly after she left. Don't play with matches? What did she think I was going to do?

As much as I loved Amy, I couldn't help but feel most of the time she was trying to show me up.

After her humming dissipated, I grappled for a hold on my beside table and pulled myself into a sitting position. Crossing my legs, I glanced at the wooden stand beside me and pulled down the first picture frame I saw.

The photo it contained was one of my parents when they were first married. They were standing on the beach, my father's huge grin took up half his face while my mother stood beside him, beaming timidly. Her Native American heritage showed clearly through in the snapshot. Silky black hair combed straight to her waist, dark eyes and even darker skin compared to the white color of her dress. She was short and slender. The only way to describe the way she looked was delicate.

The picture reveled that my father was the complete opposite. He was tall and incredibly pale. With his curly blond hair, rosy cheeks and baby blue eyes- that my sister and I both inherited- he looked like a little kid in a mans body.

I smiled down at the photo before placing it back on the stand and climbing off my bed. Since I was two or three, my parents became workaholics. I ate dinner with my mom every night, but my father worked at an office suppliers company and only came home on the weekends.

It's probably why I've become so attached to Quil. He's been taking care of my sister and I for as long as I can remember. Even though we haven't needed a babysitter in years hes still here for me whenever I need him and occasionally when the last thing I need is him.

I can't even keep secrets from Quil. Somehow he just knows.

I didn't bother to look in the hallway mirror on my way to the kitchen, I knew what I would see. A startling clash of both my parents genes thrown into an awkward-looking teenage girl.

The dark skin and light eyes made Amy look intriguing and exotic. It made me look like someone who fell asleep on the beach.

I paused halfway down the hall and spun around, glancing at myself in the mirror. Maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe I could even be pretty like Amy if I just...

A loud knocking on the door interrupted my thoughts before they could run away with me.

"It's open, Quil!" I called, marching through the rest of the hall in my quest for the refrigerator. "What to eat?" I asked the fridge, digging through all the low fat yogurt in search of something good. I was so desperate I would settle for a pudding cup. Just a measly pudding cup.

I had finally wrestled off the top of the container and was about to dig my spoon into the wiggling chocolate goodness when someones voice caused me to drop my snack- and watch it clatter across the wooden floor- in complete horror.

"Who's Quil?" Jackson asked, crossing his very nice arms over his equally nice torso.

"Uh..." I stood in shock, unable to believe that he was here.

Just over a week ago he had tried to kiss me and Quil had interrupted us just before anything happened. After that I thought he would never want anything to do with me again.

"Are you looking for Amy? Cause shes not here right now. I think you could catch her if you checked by the school, though. I know shes there somewhere. You know I think I have her cell phone number and if you just hold on one second I'll go find it." I shut up abruptly.

I was babbling. He knew it.

"I didn't come here to see Amy, I came to see you." He spoke slowly, smiling at me in a way that I thought would make me melt.

"Really?" I subconsciously compared his smile to Quil's. Not as nice, but still completely acceptable. More than acceptable.

"Yeah." He pushed off the counter he had been leaning on and stepped towards me. "I feel kinda bad for what happened last time we were... hanging out. I wanted to see if you were up to try again? You know, just relaxing and whatnot."

"Yeah. That'd be awesome." I managed to say without my heart exploding.

I was acting like a tool, but somehow Jackson didn't mind. He took my hand, still smiling and pulled me gently back down the hall.

"Let's just make sure nothing interrupts us this time." He was still smiling at me, his hazel eyes glued to mine as he reached out to lock the front door.

Somewhere deep inside I was shaking my head at his folly. There was no way that a locked door would keep Quil from spoiling the moment. I even had doubts about a brick wall stopping him.

Never the less, I let Jackson pull me down the hall, my eyes taking in everything from his light gray sweater pulling across his chest to the way his jeans hugged his hips and were worn in all the right places. His brown hair was messed up, giving him a rugged look. I didn't mind it, despite the fact he had probably spent more time on his hair than I had on mine this morning.

"Is this you room?" He asked, stopping at the light wooden door that I had hung a Fight Club poster on just a few weeks ago.

"Yeah, thats mine." I muttered, blushing again.

"Nice choice." He commented and pushed open the door.

I thanked my lucky stars that my mother had forced me to clean it yesterday. There were no piles of dirty clothes laying on the floor or any panties sticking out from under my bed, waiting to pop up and potentially ruin my life.

I turned an even deeper red when he let go of my hand and sat down on my bed, looking completely out of place. Mentally I ran through a list of people that might check on me and sighed in relief when I realized none of them would come over for at least two hours.

Jackson patted the spot next to him, his face suddenly serious. I sat slowly, wishing I had worn something a little more feminine, or at least done something with my hair.

"Hey," He spoke in a murmurer, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Hi there." I felt my heart rate pick up suddenly, then stop abruptly when his lips were inches from mine.

"You've never done this before, have you?"

"No." I shook my head slightly, embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it, then." He whispered before his lips met mine.

My heart began again, beating double time. Kissing was nice.

I'm sure he thought it was as just as nice as I did, because suddenly he was holding my face in his hands and allowing the tip of his tongue to slip into my mouth. He didn't even seem to mind that I wasn't wearing a skit and the only make-up I had on was chapstick.

Everything was going wonderfully- his hands had moved to my back, cradling me against his chest- until a thump reverberated through the house, making us jump apart like scared rabbits.

"What the hell?" Jackson stood up as the pounding continued.

"Claire? Why is the door locked? And who's car is that?" A muffled voice came from outside, stopping my heart for a completely different reason.

"Oh, God. Quil."

So much for at least two hours.

Oh, ugh. Don't you hate it when that happens? XD.

Review and I'll trade you for another chapter.