Chapter 14: Claire- Making the Japanese Blush
I woke up sweating and sore, but happy! Quil had slept with me that night, and I watched him now in the morning hours, his beautiful tan skin glowing in the sunlight from my window. I basked in his loveliness, his bare chest rose and fell like a timed dance, and I slowly got up, stretching out of the uncomfortable position I had fallen asleep in.
He wore only his boxers and I was shocked when I realized I was in a similar state of undress, wearing only a pair of black boy shorts. I must have undressed in the middle of the night when his body heat was stifling, because (unfortunately for me) last night was only sleeping! No passionate kissing, no heavy petting, not even any dry humping, which I knew from the sage advice of my sister Lana, never stays dry for long.
I hopped off the bed, searching for a shirt before Quil woke up. I didn't want him to have any reason for not staying over again and I was pretty sure a massive headache in the morning would not be pleasant. I covered my itty-bitties with my left arm and turned to face the bed looking for the shirt I fell asleep in, when I saw Quil rolled on his side watching me.
"Sorry," I blushed, dashing into my closet, grabbing the first shirt I could find and forcing it over my head.
I looked down to see I was donning an ancient t-shirt that belonged to Lana circa second grade. So, I hopped out of the closet, clad in a hideous pink shirt with Japanese children's cartoons. Not at all sexy, so I guess it fulfilled its purpose but there was something unsavory about wearing a children's shirt depicting the shows that had invaded the West during my childhood, thus creating a generation of Japanophiles who had unrealistic standards of normal human interactions. Japan had fascinated me at that age and fueled a summer long google-searching obsession, resulting in an onslaught of porn that scarred me for life. I blushed at the mere memory of it, though I doubted he would make the connection between tentacle porn and Pokemon like I did.
"It's okay, don't apologize… I was just enjoying the view," Quil said smiling his giant white smile that gave him the most perfect one-sided dimple. The same dimple that made me want to jump him and do all sorts of pornographic things that I was sure would make even the Japanese blush.
"I thought my body gave you enchanted migraines," I said climbing on top of him as seductively as possible. Although I was 100% sure I wanted nothing more than to have sex with him, I was feeling far from sexy with my unbrushed hair and teeth.
"I thought so too, but… I feel fine now. Better than fine," he said as I reached his face, kissing him lightly. my sexual desire for him was far beyond normal teenage hormone-y influence or whatever, I needed him. I begged my body to stay cool and calm, but there were only two very thin pieces of material between us now and my body's overwhelming need for him forced me to conspire on how best to remove those two pieces.
I crawled to his ear, breathing hotly whispering. "Quil baby, can we at least… try can't we?"
He pulled me closer, I noticed his breathing change as his hand slid down my back and over my derrière—down to my thighs, pulling them up so I was straddling him.
He licked my bottom lip before kissing me full on, and taking my breath away, literally. I always hated those expressions, "breathtaking", "takes your breath away" they seemed so insincere. Also, the stupid song "Take My Breath Away" and its consequent 20 million remakes did not help the cause.
When he kissed me though, it actually happened (as if he punched me hard in the gut) all the oxygen I didn't know I had stored in my lungs escaped.
One of his hands trailed up my thigh, past my waist and under the child sized pink shirt which I couldn't help but think was kinky. When his fingertips grazed my rib cage I trembled embarrassingly; I continued to shake lightly as I smiled down encouragingly at him. He looked me in the eyes the whole time, while mutant-steroid-monster-butterflies tangoed in my stomach. He inched his hand up slowly until his middle finger traced the bottom of my breast.
The excitement, the danger, the raw emotions of it all was unexplainable, but the want way outweighed the rest. I wanted him more than anything in my entire life. When I felt as if I were about to beg for his mercy, his body stiffened below me... not just one part of his body, but the entire body.
"Nope sorry, sorry, sorry! I really tried," he howled frantically rubbing his temples and grimacing. My mom burst in the room then and for the second time today I dove into the closet.
"Are you okay?" I heard her ask him, her voice returning to that husky MILF drawl she adopted in the presence of all attractive men. I came out, pulling on a pair of yoga pants and stumbling. She looked at me with a mix of jealousy, curiosity and motherliness, before saying, "How nice of you to join us my beautiful minor."
"Mom, come on. I'm seventeen, we all know what Lana was doing when she was seventeen."
My mom had Lana when she was just a year older than me, and she was always open and straightforward with us about sex.
"You're not Lana, and the situation is different," she said casting a look back at Quil who was trying to find his shorts.
"Yeah, I'm not, Lana. Lana told me, and I quote, *sex is great, have as much of it as possible before you have to settle with one man and ruin your body with children," I said crossing my arms defiantly.
"Yes, well -she was quoting me- but," she started, clearing her throat, "she didn't have your father calling lawyers."
"Lawyers," I gulped.
"He also called the tribal council, asking for your immediate removal until legal matters are resolved. They're coming over at two to talk to us before they make a decision."
"What? What kind of decision? They can't take me out of my home if I don't want to right?" I asked, standing and pacing to Quil's side.
"Well, it's complicated, Claire. The reservation is governed by tribal law, you can never really be sure what those guys will do... Also, Miss Claire, you've put me in an awkward position. I can't in good conscious defend your chastity when I find naked Quileutes in your bed," she said sounding tired, yet amused.
"Half naked," Quil corrected, finally managing to cover himself completely. My mother appraised him comically and turned to me. I was still frozen in place, my mind doing full laps, around and around. Custody of a seventeen year old, was that even possible?
"We're getting married," I blurted it out in some sort of defense, and smiled when I saw the goofy glow on Quil's face. My mom's body went rigid then; the fun, light, youthful, MILF was quickly replaced with a surprisingly scary real mom.
"YOU'RE PREGNANT? CLAIRE! I thought I taught you guys better!" She bellowed.
"Whoa, whoa! It's not like that Joanna, we haven't even done that," Quil assured her.
"Yet," I added under my breath.
When Quil had promised her that his bits had never gone anywhere near my nether regions -his words not mine- she lightened up again.
"Well, that nice kiddos," she said dismissively. "But let's not mention that when they get here, kay?"
The Makah tribal council arrived just before 1:45 and I wasn't ready. I hurried to put on the most grown up clothing I could find, a green sundress Lana left behind. Quil was pushed out of my window by my mom and we ran down to greet them. The Makah reservation, population- not enough to attract a Starbucks- is governed by four super-old wrinkle bags who spend most of their energy on drug and alcohol prevention. So, I wasn't exactly sure how they were going to handle a custody battle over an "over-sexed" minor.
Ron Venske, his slightly less wrinkley son Jeremy Venske, Neah Branch and Tony Grant sat in my living room glancing at me occasionally as I fiddled with the eyelet flowers along the rim of my dress. After my father arrived, coffee, pleasantries and snacks were distributed, and Ron, the oldest member got to business.
"It has been many years since the divorce, we didn't expect to be dealing with the custody of your daughters, especially considering their ages," he directed this at my father.
"And I wouldn't have dreamed of bothering you with it if Joanna wasn't allowing my daughter to have a physical relationship with a thirty year old man," my father responded glaring at my mother.
My parents had met at the Northwest Museum of Arts & Culture where my grandfather curated the Native American exhibit. They were very young when they fell in love but they used to be very happy… it made me sad to think of how quickly they turned on each other.
"Ugh! Dad, Quil and I haven't even—"
My mother cut me off, "They aren't having a physical relationship, I can assure you of that elder Venske," she said bowing her head a bit. I wasn't one for this whole curtsying to your elders thing, so I just kept quiet.
"Who is it she's supposedly having the inappropriate relationship with? Quil Ateara?" Neah spoke up, I eyed her quickly. I don't really know what she knew about him, if she knew the Quileute legends were true, but most people in town knew about our friendship at least.
"Yes, ma'am," my father confirmed.
"Well, this is an interesting situation," Ron sighed, then continued. "Well, I would like to meet the man," he said, gesturing for Tony to call. I waited another thirty tense minutes, trying not to notice the death glares my parents were shooting at each other, before Quil came followed by Sue Clearwater.
Sue sat on my right, leaving my left open for Quil. His heat radiated, sending out waves that calmed me. He sat entirely too far away for my liking, but his shoe touched mine, the only contact that was safe at that moment.
Sue spoke first which surprised me and Ron Venske. Sue, my great aunt is a Makah (like me), but after marrying a Quileute man and moving to La Push she became very involved in the community. She was now one of the highest members of the tribe and also the best choice for this particular meeting, seeing as Jeremy Venske was her high school sweetheart. "Ron, Jeremy, this is ridiculous. Quil is a great boy, a 'Tribe Protector', owner of a local market that hires and supports—"
"I don't care if he volunteers at the orphanage!" My father bellowed. "He's thirty plus years old, and trying to date my daughter," my father continued.
"He's 24," Sue said quietly.
"For like ten years!" My father was turning red in the face.
"Dad, chill," I whispered.
"Yes, well," Ron started, giving Sue a knowing glance, "twenty-four or fourty-six it doesn't change the situation much," he finished.
"Yeah it does! She's seventeen," my dad argued.
"And sixteen in the age of consent in our good state of Washington. I'm sorry George, you're a great guy, but you don't have a case," Jeremy spoke up, Quil moving almost indecipherably closer.
And with that was everything settled but I still felt uneasy. Quil and I headed to Emily's to tell them the good news, both about our engagement and him not going to jail. It was getting near dinner time when we arrived, but Emily wasn't cooking. The house was empty and Quil stopped dead in his tracks when we walked half way through the door. He lifted his head, taking in a deep breath before picking me up and rushing me back to the car