It was two weeks before I could articulate how I felt about the run in with my father.

Clare and I were in the park waiting for Adam. She was leaning back against a tree, her blue tunic bright against the sorrel bark. I had my head in her lap, long legs stretched out in front of us as I flipped through an antique issue of Heavy Metal Magazine. Clare ran her hands through my hair, looking down at me with a coy smile. I had become accustomed to this. She seemed to have a fetish for smoothing her fingers through my shaggy locks. Not that I was complaining- it felt damn good. She had a gentle touch...though, whenever I got snarky she'd yank a piece of hair in playful reproach.

And it sent a shot of pure desire right into my gut.

I grinned to myself. Oh, who am I kididng? Anything she does makes me feel that way.

Clare cleared her throat, breaking me from my abject thoughts. I glanced up at her- she looked like she wanted to say something but seemed to be holding back.

I raised an eyebrow. "Something on your mind, Edwards?"

She cocked her head back and forth in thought. "Sort of," she said.

"Well, spit it out..." I pressed.

Looking away, she bit her lip. "Um," she tugged at a blade of grass to her right, "I was just wondering how things have been at home."

I smirked up at her. Typical Clare, always worried about me...

"They're..." I trailed off, trying to come up with a word to describe the odd synergy in the Goldsworthy household, "...a little strange."

Panic flashed over her face and I scrambled to clarify. "It's just...my dad and I haven't really spoken much- a word or two here and there- but I can tell there's a difference." I pulled my brows together. "Does that make any sense?"

Clare nodded, a tiny smile playing on her lips. "Yes, actually," she replied. "You might not be openly communicating- as in words- but the action is there."

I gazed at her in admiration. She always knew just the right thing to say. I had a tendency to let my mouth get ahead of my thoughts- what I said wasn't always what I meant- but Clare was very controlled. There were times that I wished I had the ability but, then again, I happened to enjoy being a spur of the moment kind of guy. Besides, she seemed to like it just as much as I did.

Even if she wouldn't admit it.

"Exactly," I said. "You really put the wallop on him, you know?"

Clare flushed. "He was just so...awful," she muttered. "I couldn't help myself!"

I shot her a wicked grin. "Now who's the one saving the day?"

Clare chuckled and shook her head. "Touche."

Throwing my magazine aside, I sat up and faced her. She looked prettier than usual today- there was a nip in the air and her cheeks had a rosy hue, making her look more like a cherub than a teenaged girl. Her turqouise tunic and jeans were complimentary, making her eyes seem almost magnetic and I found myself completely at their mercy. Nibbling her lower lip, Clare's expression was expectant- she always gave me the same shy look- and a familiar lurch in my stomach reconfirmed my intentions.

I wanted her.

I wanted to feel her lips against mine, to smooth my hands over her soft skin, to hear the tiny gasp she made whenever I kissed that spot below her ear. I leaned forward and Clare blinked in recognition, tilting her head as she met my lips.

Christ I love kissing this girl... Clare was pretty damn talented on all fronts but, when it came to kissing, she was masterful. At first, she'd been a little shy- hesitant, modest even- but, as time went on, she had gotten more comfortable with me...and that was when I'd made a marvelous discovery.

Clare was a Siren.

Beneath all that sweet innocence there was a temptress just waiting to be unleashed. I knew it sounded cliche- the typical 'it's always the quiet ones'- but where Clare was concerned, I actually understood what it meant. It wasn't that she got overly racey- this was Clare, after all- but there was this deep seeded passion that seemed to explode everytime we were even remotely intimate. Electricity, charge, spark- call it what you will- Clare's kisses were fucking wired.

We broke apart, both gasping for breath. She was flushed, her hair was a mess, and her lips were swollen. She looked like she had just taken a tumble in a nice big bed. I ignored the stiffening below my belt and ran my hand along her cheek.

"Such a little vamp," I breathed, my tone affectionate but playful.

She swatted my arm, her face growing more red. "I thought I was an ingenue!"

I chuckled at her jab. She absolutely hated the original character I'd come up with for one of our English assignments.

Clara Edwin.

Now there was a vixen. I really couldn't help myself- writing about Clare had turned into some dark, sordid fantasy. Gangsters, flappers, and prohibition- Ms. Edwin was a demure but slightly tainted cigarette girl who worked in a speak easy owned by her on again, off again lover, Kingston C. Flowers (Boss K.C. for short). Naturally, she falls in love with the cunning and devilishly handsome, E. Linus, an undercover agent for the FBI. I'll admit, I may have gone a little too far with the whole K.C. thing but it had been more to tease her than anything else. If I had known that he had hurt her, I never would have put him in the story to begin with.

But she was over him now and I was lucky to be part of the reason.

Peeking at her from beneath my lashes, I wondered how anyone could give up someone so amazing. Clare was the most perfect girl I had ever known. Jenna Middleton couldn't even compare to her classic beauty...or her stimulating intellect.

I slipped my hand into her tiny one and smiled at the ideal fit- it was almost as if Clare had been made for me. Everything about us was aligned- our bodies, our personalities- we were two sides to one entity. I found it slightly disorienting. The girl had turned my life upside down in a matter of months...and it was all for the better. I sighed in contentment, thoughts of a lifetime with Clare pivoting through my head. Mrs. Clare Goldsworthy...

I blinked as I caught that last thought and nearly smacked myself in the forehead. What the hell is happening to me?

Clare was the most adorable girl I'd ever known, but the more time I spent with her the more I began to notice a change in my inner monologue. I was turning into a goddamn, walking Hallmark card! This would not do. I loved Clare but I was not about to trade in my skulls and gothic apparel for a rainbow cardigan and fuzzy, pink bunny slippers.

I shuddered- the thought made me more than a little squeamish.

When I met Clare she knew exactly what I was into and she didn't bat an eye. I wanted to continue this upward spiral, this journey in self-healing, but I didn't want to change who I was at heart. Although a relationship was about being a unit, it was also about being individual. It was balance. A person couldn't lose themselves just because they were in love. Retaining individual spirit was just as important because that's what the other person fell for to begin with!

And I was Eli...a sweet yet snarky guy who liked poetry, punk, and pretty eyes.

That said, I found myself wanting to do something edgy, maybe even a little illegal. Not something that would hurt anyone, of course, but something to harden the drippy, sentimental nancy boy I was turning into.

Biting my lip, I pondered the possibilities. Alexisonfire would be at The Drake this weekend- I could take Adam with me, blow off some steam. It'd be like rebooting my hard drive- nothing like a little punk rock to wet my whistle...and brew, of course. I reached down, fingering my wallet absently. When considering a night out with friends, having a fake ID really came in handy.

"Eli, are you okay?" Clare's sweet voice grated against my rebellious thoughts.

I looked up. "I'm fine," I assured her.

She raised a brow. "Mm-hmm, I've seen that look before."

"What look?" I deadpanned.

"The look that says 'I'm scheming now leave me alone'," she rejoined with a knowing grin.

I lifted my chin. "I've know idea what you're talking about..."

"Planning a night of harmless pranks with our dear Adam, are we?"

My mouth fell open and Clare gave me a smug smile. I narrowed my eyes- the girl was too smart for her own good.

"Just promise me one thing," she said. Her amusement ebbed and she gave me a serious look.

"What's that?"

"Promise you won't drive if you've been drinking," she pleaded.

I blinked. That was it? No third degree? No fretting over what we'd be doing? I couldn't believe it- I had the coolest girlfriend known to man! I gazed at her, a smile tugging at my lips. It was surprising...so surprising, in fact, that I completely forgot that Clare was expecting an answer.

She frowned. "Is that so much to ask?"

I shook my head quickly. "No...no, sorry," I stammered, sounding like a fool, "I promise."

Clare bit her lip in amusement. "Were you expecting something else?" she asked.

I flushed at her ability to nail me in one. "Er, well...kind of, yeah..." I admitted.

She smirked- and it looked scarily like my signature expression. "Probably thought I was going to pester you with questions, didn't you Eli?"

I crossed my arms over my chest in a pout. "Did not."

Clare giggled and then leaned forward. "Looks like you're the one caught with your pants down this time," she whispered, sliding a hand up over my knee.

My eyes widened. I looked down at her hand and then back up at her. That's when she burst into laughter.

"You should see the look on your face!" she cried, rolling onto her side.

"You little tease!" I cried and began to tickle her mercilessly.

I set out to get my payback and, boy did I. By the time I was through with her, Clare could hardly breathe she was laughing so hard. In the end, she submitted to me- as I knew she would- and I got another kiss out of the deal. I stole it, of course, but Clare had just begun to reciprocate when...

"Don't you two ever worry about mono?"

Pulling away from Clare I looked up at Adam and shook my head. She was right- the kid had a knack for interrupting at the most inopportune times.

"Hey man," I said, scooting next to my girlfirend, who was blushing furiously.

Ever since Simpson had caught us making out after school she'd been leary about kissing in public- this had likely just reaffirmed her reservations. I threw an arm around her shoulder and gave her a little squeeze. She smiled up at me in appreciation.

Adam flopped down in the grass and put his chin in his hand. "Sup?"

Clare chuckled, like she always did when Adam greeted us. "Not much, what took you so long?" she asked.

"I didn't want to intrude on your private time," he replied, scratching up under his beanie. "Clearly that was a bust."

I snorted at his sarcasm. "Listen, what do you say we have a Guy's Night tomorrow? Alexisonfire is at-"

"The Drake!" Adam popped up onto his knees, excitement clear on his face.

"Yeah," I rejoined with a smirk. "What do you think?"

"I think hell yes!" he cried and then frowned. Turning to Clare he gave her a sheepish look. "Um...are you..."

Clare held up a hand. "Have a great time," she replied.

Adam launched himself at her and they toppled over backwards, laughing. I raised my brows as I watched my girlfriend and my best friend hug. Hug over me. The concept was hard to wrap my head around. Just six months ago my life had been a hollow shell- no friends, no family- nothing at all. And now, here I was- in love with a gorgeous girl, friends with a loyal guy, and filling in the gaping hole between me and my father. A wide smile split my face as I realized...

Life couldn't be better.