Hey smurf buddies. Hope all is good. Thank you for the reviews, you guys are awesomeness concentrated.
School is suckish. And sticky back plastic is evil.
If anyone watched 'A Walk To Remember', please tell me what you thought in a review!
So, I'm going to do something that I've never tried before, and say that I won't update until I get 50 reviews (for the entire story, not the chapter). It really bugs me when authors do this, but I'm trying so hard to keep the review count up! So please review if you want quick updates. Sorry.
I have a plot line for this, very dramatic, but I hope you'll like it. Things start to heat up in the next few chapters, so I'm quite excited.
I have two bands for you guys to listen to, 'The Last Goodnight' and 'Parachute'. They're V. good.
MUSE'S NEW ALBUM'S OUT NEXT WEEK! YAY FOR MUSE!
Oh, and a few of you have been asking, Claire's seventeen, but her birthday's coming up soon. Originally it was sixteen, but I realized I had to change it, sorry for the blunder.
Love love love.
Enjoy...
It's like that lame 80's crappy pop song.
Oh yeah.
'Heaven is a Place on Earth'.
Well obviously it is.
As long as she's involved.
"Living with Quil?" Maggie screeches in the school canteen the next Monday, causing all eyes in the room to turn to us. Being on the cool table, everything you say has to be major gossip. "Like, in the same house and everything?" She whispers, noticing everyone staring.
"Well, technically it's an apartment, but, yeah."
"And you're, what, seventeen still?"
"Yes."
"And you're living with a thirty something year old who you're in stupidly in love with?"
"Oh for God's sake, I'm not in love with him!"
"Babe, I don't think you've ever lasted an hour without mentioning him. Ever."
"So?"
"So it proves you're obsessed."
"We're best friends Mag, of course I'm gonna mention him sometimes."
"All the time."
"Only sometimes!"
"Stu'll vouch for me," she says, gesturing towards her boyfriend, who's sitting at the other end of the table discussing touch downs with Trevor and Smithy.
I roll my eyes. "Stu doesn't count. He'll agree with you as long as it means he can get laid."
She narrows her eyes at me. "You really are a huge cynic."
"No, I'm just logical."
"Logic isn't being depressing."
"Yeah, it's being realistic."
"Anyway, back to you and Quil. What'd your folks say?"
I grimaced. "They don't exactly know about it."
"What?!" She screams.
"Shhhhhhh," I hush, turning to see the entire population of the rez school staring at us.
"What?!" She repeats, this time whispering.
"We haven't told them, they think I'm staying with Aunt Em."
"You really think you can pull this off?"
"Yup. I've got some clothes at her house and whenever the parentals are in town, if they ever come visit, which I really doubt, I'll go round there."
"Seems a bit ambitious to me."
"Well, Aunt Em and Uncle Sam don't have room for me and there's no way I'm living with my Dad or moving to England!" I hiss.
"Fine, fine, sorry. Hey, you want to do a double sometime?" She asks.
"Huh?"
"You know, a double date. You and Trev, me and Stu?"
"Ew, no."
"I thought the date went well?"
"Who told you that?"
She looks sheepish. "Trevor..."
"Uhuh. Well, he got me drunk."
"Who doesn't?"
"What? Just because a girl likes a bit of drink!"
"A little bit?"
"Whatever. I have to go, I've got two free periods and Q said he'd pick me up in five."
"'Kay, see you."
"Bye." I air-kiss her cheek and stride out of the canteen. I'm not a typical 'popular' girl, I don't wear mini-skirts or heels, my wardrobe consists mainly of skinny jeans and sweaters, but Mag's insanely popular and we've been hanging out since second grade, so I just sort of got labelled as being cool because Mag decided I was.
Teenagers these days have no minds of their own. We really are clones.
I shuffle down the corridor leading to the main entrance, pulling on my hoodie and jacket. It's still raining, despite the fact that it's summer holidays in two weeks.
Which means finals in one week.
Oh unending joy.
I haul open the door and step outside, cursing at the cold. Is it too much to ask for a warm day? Just this once?
I look at the clock on my phone, which tells me Q's late.
Q's never late.
Not ever.
Weird.
I go and sit on the wooden bench to wait, rubbing my hands together to try and warm them up. I look around aimlessly, trying to pass the time. The writing on the bench catches my eye. A poem is carved into the head, reading:
My love, my soul, my heart, my wife,
You are my dearest, you are my life.
And when you left, you took me too,
For I am nothing, when I'm not with you.
I swear that's one of the cutest things I've ever read. I love it when benches are dedicated to people, it's so sweet that someone's gone to that much effort to make sure their loved one isn't forgotten.
It would be nice to have someone like that one day. To dedicate a bench to me when I die. I'd like a bench, I decide. A bench would be cool. A person to dedicate it to me would be cooler. I don't believe I'm a cynic, I'm a ridiculous romantic. Mag doesn't know me all that well, I don't like letting people in too deep. They only disappoint. The only person who I'd ever confess that to is Q, because he's the only person it doesn't apply to.
I can't imagine him letting me down.
Yet, as I think this, I realize he' still not here.
I pull out my book and Ipod and settle down into the bench.
***
"Claire?" I look up to see Trevor standing in front of me. "Maggie said you'd left."
"Um, yeah," I answered, searching for Q's truck. Damn, it wasn't there. I stuffed my book into my bad and shoved my Ipod into my pocket. "I'm going now actually." I begin towards the gate.
"Well then why would Maggie say you left earlier?" Trevor persists, following me.
"Because I was waiting for my ride, which was meant to be here two hours ago?"
"Was it that guy who was round yours last week?"
"Yes."
"Bit of a douche bag then, isn't he?"
Is he trying to piss me off?
"I'm sorry?"
"Well, bailing on you? And he seemed a bit clingy and pathetic last time, didn't he?"
No, the pissing off is a talent.
"I'm sure he has a good excuse. And we're friends, so he was round my house."
"Fine," he said, sounding insulted. We walk in awkward silence, him humming.
"Is there something you want?" I finally ask, finding his terrible attempt at music making irritating.
"Yeah," he says, looking up at me, "I wanted to ask you out on another date."
When I don't say anything he, like an indignant child, adds, "Unless you're too busy making out with your 'friend'."
I roll my eyes. "Oh please just go away," I snap, fed up with his Quil trashing.
Trevor is not the type of boy used to being told to go away. Even if I didn't know this, it would soon become apparent by his reaction to his rejection. He narrows his eyes. "Maybe I should give you some more beer - that seemed to lighten you up last time."
I begin walking quicker. "Go away."
"Why?" He asks, keeping pace. "Worried your boyfriend might see us."
"Seriously, shut up."
"Make me."
"God, you're such a jerk."
"And you're a whore."
"Excuse me?"
"You've gone out with virtually every guy in school. You get smashed on every date. And, you're two timing me."
"Yes, you are right Trevor. I apologise. Now piss off."
"Why? Your boyfriend gonna be mad?"
"Probably, yes," I sigh.
"Arrgh, I'm so scared!"
"What's your problem?"
"What's yours?"
"Just go away!"
"No."
"Why not?!"
"You didn't say please." He smirks, looking arrogant.
"I don't say please unless I have to."
"Well you have to now."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I'm not going nowhere."
"Uhuh."
"Not until you give me a second date."
"Why would I go out with you?"
"You tell me."
"I wouldn't!"
"But you did," he replies smugly, a smirk gracing his face.
"Before I realized what an arsehole you were."
"Maybe you'd change your mind if you let me kiss you."
I halt abruptly. "What?"
"Yup. I'm an expert kisser."
"You're a pervert."
He grabs my arm and pulls me towards him. "You're rude." He twists me so I'm facing him, using his free hand to turn my face towards him.
"Get off!" I screech, seriously freaked out.
"No."
I will admit, I'm quite an angry person, with a lot of rage to express. I have also taken self defense classes, and am quite strong for a girl. Which is why, when I raise my knee to collide with Trevor's groin, he releases me immediately and squeals like a girl. "What the fuck?!"
"Sexual assault is illegal," I yell at him, slapping him hard across the cheek. "And you chose the wrong girl to mess with."
"You're insane!" He wails, clutching his cheek and crossing his legs, one infront of the other.
"Maybe, but at least I'm not reduced to name calling. We're seventeen. And you just got your arse kicked by a girl."
"I'm impressed," a ragged voice comes up behind me. Trevor's eyes widen as he takes in Q's size and he starts to edge away, his hands in the air. "But I've got this." He cracks his knuckles, grinning slightly.
"Woah," Trevor stutters nervously, "No need for violence. I was just messing 's'all." His voice is at a ridiculously high pitch. "So, I'm just, going to go back and get my pencil I left in... algebra earlier." He turns and sprints away, glancing behind him to make sure Q isn't chasing behind.
I feel Q's warm arms around my waist. "You alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. He was only trying to kiss me anyway, but he had a chilli dog for lunch, so it wasn't all that appealing, if you know what I mean..." Whenever I get nervous I have a tendency to make lame jokes.
Though I'm not sure exactly why I'm nervous.
I've noticed that Q seems to have had that effect on me regularly recently.
"Wanna go home?" Q asks, chuckling lightly.
"Sure."
We saunter over to his car, and drive away from the school. "Hey, why were you so late?" I asked.
He frowns. "Oh, you know, work stuff."
"What kind of work stuff?"
"Had to stop something dangerous getting out in the rez," he says teasingly.
"What, a car?"
"Something like that."
"Oh."
I know there's something he's not telling me, but I don't pry. There's this weird atmosphere, I don't really know what to say to him right now. And I've never not had anything to say ever before.
His, our, apartment is only a short journey away, but it seems like one of the longest drives of my life.
She beat up a guy.
My Claire.
Jackass deserved it.
She beat up a guy.
I love her more and more every day.