A/N: Y'all ought to love me for writing this chapter after all the trouble I've been through tonight. :( Noisy neighbors, trips home, trips back to school (I live in a dorm,) trips back home again… my goodness. And you know, because this is on my dad's computer, I'm going to have to e-mail this to myself so I can save it to my laptop, just 'cause I like having all the chapters together. -sigh-

Hmm. And, as a side note: The last time I had a broken bone, I was two, so the memory is… well, pretty much non-existent. ;) The closest I've come since then was when I sprained my finger playing football in gym class back in high school. Well, okay, I guess it serves me right for playing anything in gym.

Chapter 4

3 months later…

Claire POV

"How's your leg feel?" Matt asked as he turned the car out of the school parking lot.

I shrugged. It was the end of my first week without my cast and crutches. I'd finally been liberated from the monstrosity—that's what Audrey liked to call it—after a too long, but mostly—keyword being "mostly"—uneventful, recovery. "It feels all right."

"No pain?" When I shook my head, Matt smiled. "Good."

I met Matt about a year and a half ago. He was a junior then, a year ahead of me—which, really, made him closer to two years older than me, since my parents made me start school younger than normal—almost five instead of almost six—but I'd seen him around a lot because he did a lot of work for my Chemistry teacher. Somehow, after awhile, helping me out on labs and stuff—which I was hopeless at—turned into talking about more personal stuff, which turned into hanging out after school as friends. And, when he asked me on a date a little under four months after it all started, I told him yes.

He was a good boyfriend. He was good guy in general. He was nice, he was smart, he was funny but not too goofy, he respected my boundaries, and, despite the (very embarrassing) speech Quil gave me before our first date, apparently not only interested in "getting in my pants." Or if he was, he had more patience than anyone I'd ever met, if my continued virgin status was anything to speak of. That, and my family liked him. Even Audrey, though she thought I was settling.

And, most importantly, he wasn't Quil.

I wasn't blind. I knew how Quil felt about me. And, if I wasn't careful and let my mind wander to places it shouldn't go—let myself imagine how things could be if I just let them happen that way—I'd end up feeling the same way. I'd end up wanting things I can't possibly have. Not now, not with so many questions left unanswered. As it was, I cared about Quil too much to let our relationship, such as it was, fall apart completely.

But maybe that's just me being selfish.

Anyway. In truth, I was pretty lucky to have found Matt. I don't know anyone else who would be able to take the living arrangements—and the need for the secrecy about them around my parents—so well. Or anyone who could handle Quil's botched attempts at polite conversation, for that matter. If nothing else, I was grateful, at least, that Quil was making an effort.

If there was any problem with my relationship with Matt, it was that, come the end of summer, he'd off to Columbia, clear across the country, and I'd still be stuck here. In La Push.

Three thousand miles was an awful long way for a relationship that was, let's face it, only semi-serious. But I wasn't quite ready to cross that bridge yet.

Most of the ride to my house quiet. Matt didn't like to play the radio that much, so the only sound in the car was the gentle hum of the engine. But it wasn't an awkward silence, at least. More of a gentle lull between topics than anything.

When Matt finally pulled up in front my house, I glanced over at him. "You want to come in for a bit?"

Matt started to answer, but then looked back at Quil's "new"—well, new to us, anyway, it was really about five years old—truck in the driveway. "Maybe not today." He gave me a wry smile, knowing I'd understand.

I did. "Sure." I leaned over and gave a quick peck before unbuckling my seatbelt. "See you tomorrow?"

He nodded. I grabbed my backpack from the backseat and hopped out of the car, heading toward the house. I turned to wave back at him, knowing he'd still be in the same spot, waiting till he saw I was safely inside the house before he left, just like always.

Calm. Easy. Predictable. Just the way I liked having my life.

There was a note waiting for me when I got inside, tacked up on the refrigerator where he knew I'd find it and written in Quil's usual chicken scratch.

Claire, it read.

Went to Sam and Emily's. I'll be back around 6. If you get hungry, start dinner without me & call if you need anything.

Love, Quil

I smiled, crumpling up the note. Typical Quil. He didn't go so many places that it would be hard to guess where he was, even without a note, but still he always felt the need to leave one.

I grabbed a quick snack in the kitchen before heading to my bedroom to start on homework.

However, when I got there, I found a note of a very different nature, tacked this time to my pillow.

A/N: I'm going to let you guys in on a little secret: alerts are lovely, but you know what I really love? Reviews. Mmm. They're pretty much the best thing ever. They make me insanely happy. And, you know, if I'm happy…