Chapter Four

Clare didn't object when Eli followed her to her locker after class. The other video presentations had been so horribly boring in comparison to theirs, and two of them actually didn't mind working with each other. It was almost as if things were back to normal…almost.

"Hey," Jake called as he hurried over to Clare's locker. When he saw Eli standing next to her, his face fell, "What is he doing here?"

"Oh, my partner…she's sick today so Eli and I got paired up for a homework assignment. We were just discussing it."

Eli paused for a moment before backing her up, "Um, yeah. Stupid, Mr. Larson. Clare asked him if she could just work by herself, but he said no. So we're kind of stuck having to do research on a famous journalist and present it to the class."

"Oh," Jake nodded, trying to wrap everything together, "Alright. Well…hopefully the two of you can just get it over with quickly and without too much trouble."

"Don't worry," Clare slid a book into her locker, "If he bothers me, I will just kick him."

Eli shot Clare a sideways glance.

Jake looked from Clare, to Eli, and then back to Clare, "Okay then. See you later, babe," he leaned down to kiss her, and the two of them shared an awkward kiss while Eli became fascinated with the fact that his shoes, when slid across the linoleum, left scuff marks.

Jake waved an uncomfortable goodbye to Eli before heading off to his next class. Clare didn't notice (or just simply chose not to address the fact) that Eli had scuffed a sad face into the linoleum.

"Edwards, lying?" Eli raised a bemused eyebrow, "Impressive."

"Oh shush. So now he thinks we are working on a project together."

"Gives us an excuse to hang out," Eli shrugged.

Clare titled her head to the side and looked at him, confused, "You want to hang out?"

"Well I don't have plans for after school. And, unless I missed the breaking news, I don't think you and Ali are going to be doing anything anytime soon," he noticed how the sparkle in her eyes faded, "…sorry. That was a crappy thing of me to say."

"No," Clare recovered, "it's fine. She's got Jenna now. And I don't need you to hang out with me out of pity, Eli Goldsworthy. Besides…you've got Imogen."

"Imogen?" Eli chuckled, "Clare, don't be dumb. Imogen and I are just friends, I guess. And besides, I am not asking you out of pity. Give me some credit; I don't think I'm that big of an asshole."

"Eli…"

"You know what," Eli shoved his hands in his pockets, "I just remembered, I have plans."

"Eli…"

He shrugged as he walked backwards down the hall, leaving her standing, bewildered, at her locker.

Clare slammed her locker door shut with every ounce of anger she had inside her. She was mad at herself, mostly. She didn't know why, exactly. Maybe it had something to do with the butterflies she felt metamorphosing in her stomach each time Eli smirked at her. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she'd lied to Jake – for no particular reason. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she wanted nothing more than to hang out with Eli after school.

Why was she feeling these things? Clare knew it was against the rules. She and Eli had broken up and she was with Jake now. Jake, good ol' Jake, who she was now lying to so she could spend time with Eli. Nothing she was doing made any sense to her. Where was her logic? Where was her level-headedness?

She just wanted to disappear or melt into a puddle, or run away and never see Eli Goldsworthy again. But Clare knew that was a lie. She would hate to never see him again. She looked forward to seeing him, and she wanted to slap herself for it. Why did Eli have such an effect on her?

"Hey," Clare glanced up and saw Adam walking towards her.

"Hey, Adam," she forced a smile, "How are you?"

"Better than you, I'm guessing. You look like you're either gonna cry, or beat the crap out of someone."

"I feel like beating the crap out of myself," Clare threw her head back against her locker door, "My journalism partner is driving me up a freakin' wall!"

"Eli?"

"He told you?"

Adam shrugged, "He told me some things. Like how his journalism partner is driving him up a freakin' wall," he smirked, and leaned against the wall next to hers.

"Me?" Clare chuckled, "Now that's just a real riot! I haven't done a single thing to him!"

"I don't know about that," Adam's bemused smirk grew into a smile, "Seems you have quite the effect on him."

"I do not have an effect on him," Clare rolled his eyes.

"He seems to have quite the effect on you too."

"Psh," Clare scoffed, "the only effect that boy has on me is nausea – nothing a good dose of Dramamine won't cure."

Adam chuckled, "If you say so."

"What?" Clare turned to him, "Did he say something? Oh my God! He totally said something to you!"

"He said you're a pain in the butt," Adam shrugged, "but I think that's just 'cuz he can't stop thinking about you."

"What?"

Adam pushed himself up from the locker, "Uh-uh," he smirked, "you figure this one out on your own, Clare."

"Adam!" Clare whined, "Help me!"

Adam held his hands up, "Why don't you start by admitting it to yourself that you aren't over him."

"But I am!"

He hooked the cross pendant hanging from her neck with a finger and said mischievously, "Lying in a sin, St. Clare."

Clare spent the rest of the day avoiding Jake so she could concentrate on what Adam had said to her. She didn't still like Eli of all people, did she? Eli was obnoxious and cynical and snarky and a pain in the butt. Why would she ever like someone like him?

But she had liked him – she had even loved him at one point.

She had even loved him. Clare shook the thought from her head as she pretended to pour over her newest vampire novel in the library. She didn't want to think about that. She didn't want to think about loving Eli. Loving Eli had stopped a long time ago.

She realized the librarian was staring at her oddly, and quickly, Clare turned the page of her book.

She began to wonder if fate enjoyed toying with her. As if to answer her question, Eli walked through the doors of the library and marched right over to the table she was sitting at. He grabbed the book out of her hands.

"The Prince of Night," Eli scoffed at the title, and turned the book over to read the summary, "Callie Young just moved to live with her father in New York City. It is there she discovers an underground world of vampires, and discovers that the Prince of Night…what the hell is this?"

"It's a good book," Clare went to snatch it back, but Eli held it out of her reach.

"What happened to good literature?" Eli rolled his eyes, "E.E Cummings and C.S Lewis?"

"Vampire fiction is merely a guilty pleasure of mine," Clare gave up on trying to get her book back, "It's better than secretly loving Notting Hill and watching it over and over again…"

"Shut up!" Eli hissed, "It's not the same thing."

"Guilty pleasures are fun and innocent," Clare rolled her eyes, "And mine happens to be vampire fiction. I am sorry you don't approve."

Eli tossed her book back, "I just found out that they're showing one of my favorite movies at The Screen this evening," he shrugged.

"The Screen? That theater that plays cult-classics?"

"The very one," Eli nudged her with his elbow, "You could come."

Clare didn't know why those darn butterflies were back in her stomach, "What are they showing?"

"The Boondock Saints."

"You made me watch it with you once," Clare nodded, remembering.

"And, if I recall correctly," Eli smirked, "you really enjoyed it."

"I-I might not have hated it as much as I had anticipated."

"So what do you say?" Eli nudged her again, "Be my date? Shit! Sorry," he blushed, and looked very much like a kicked puppy.

Clare couldn't help but laugh at his expression, "I know what you mean," she patted his arm, "it's fine. I'll be your date."

"I'll pick you up at six. Should I bring a bouquet of flowers?"

"A dozen red roses," Clare teased, "And I expect you to hold the doors open for me."

"Undoubtedly. Should I wear my finest cologne?"

"Of course. But I don't kiss on the first date."

They looked at each other, fighting the urge to smile before breaking out laughing.