A/N: So has it really been almost two months? Uhhh, awkward. End of the year exams, vacations, and the fact that I re-wrote this chapter three times is why it took so long to get it to you and I can't apologize enough. Warning, it's really, reaaaaaally long. That's all I will say for now… Enjoy!
Claire
"What are you going to wear tonight?" Eliza inquired, leaning against my doorframe.
"Red. 'Tis the season, right?" She smirked at my response.
It was Christmas Eve, four days after ah… the Accident. After nearly passing out on the way to the hospital, mostly everything was a blur. I remembered the awful white of a hospital room, several blood transfusions, my father, Sam, and Emily arriving. Apparently I'd suffered a mild concussion on top of the serious blood loss. And then of course there was my collarbone, which now bore the scar of a vampire bite. That was the worst part.
I guess the pack showed up at some point but none of them were allowed in my room. One of the nurses tried to tell Quil he couldn't be in there either, but he'd glared at her so hard that she'd left the issue alone. Then at some point—maybe it was Sunday morning by then—Carlisle Cullen came in and checked on me personally. I was released from the hospital that afternoon and spent the rest of the day at the Cullens'. Apparently The Doctor was just as baffled by my apparent immunity to venom as the rest of us. Was Lilah not venomous for some reason? Or was I a freak of nature?
Monday and Tuesday I was on bed rest. No visitors other than Quil, and even that was after lots of protesting. I wanted to say that Dad was massively over-reacting… that everyone was over-reacting… but I couldn't blame them. I suppose I did nearly die.
If there was one positive thing that came from the experience, it was the strengthened relationship between Eliza and I. Near death experiences just had the power to bring sisters together.
"I was going to wear green, but you know I really don't think I like that color anymore. I'll probably wear this one gold sparkly shirt I have instead," Eliza shared, though I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or thinking aloud.
I sighed, "Eliza, the only people we'll be seeing tonight are Sam, Emily, Amelia, and Quil. Brady isn't even going to be here, you don't need to worry about dressing in colors he likes or doesn't like or whatever it is that goes through your head when you get ready in the mornings."
"Bitch," Eliza huffed.
Okay, I'll admit mine and Eliza's newfound friendship still had some slight rough patches…
"Well speaking of love lives, when are you planning on talking to Mason?"
I narrowed my eyes at her reflection in the mirror. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you know that now that your life isn't in danger there is no way Quil is going to let him come around the house so much. Not when it's so clear how Mason feels about you," Eliza stated like it was the most obvious fact in the world.
"First of all, Mason and I are just friends. He knows that. Second of all, I don't tell Quil who he can and cannot see, so he has no right to tell me, either. Mason can come over whenever he wants. That's what friends do."
"And when the friendship means more to him than it does to you? Or does it? I've noticed something these past few months…" She mentioned casually, letting her words drop off.
"And what would that be?" I asked impatiently.
"You look at Mason a lot. Not the way you look at Quil, obviously, but not the way you look at Embry or Seth or Jake either. I think you're attracted to Mason."
If I was drinking anything I would have surely choked on it. "Attracted to Mason? Eliza, you really are crazy, do you know that? I love Quil, my boyfriend, soul mate, imprint… ring any bells?"
"I'm not saying you don't love Quil, idiot. I'm just saying that there is a little part of you that you aren't acknowledging that has it bad for the bad boy."
"Do not talk to me about feelings Eliza or so help me God I will bring up Brady."
"Yeesh, someone isn't feeling the holiday spirit," Eliza muttered, hopping up from my bed. "Anyway, I originally came in here to tell you that our company will be here within minutes. Be sure you're ready.
"Okay," I told her, focusing on detangling my hair and nothing else. She left the room.
So maybe our new friendship wasn't all roses… so what? It's hard to always be cordial with a sister who didn't have any kind of filter when she spoke.
But what did she mean I looked at Mason a lot? And so what if I did? We were friends. Friends look at each other sometimes. That didn't mean I was attracted to Mason. Being attracted to anyone other than Quil was unfathomable.
Instead of dwelling on that, I turned to the positive. Tonight was Christmas Eve, one of my favorite nights of the entire year. Soon I would get to see Quil again for the first time since breakfast and spend time with my immediate family. It was even supposed to snow. Yes, tonight would be a good night.
I hoped.
Eliza
Why couldn't I just go an hour where Brady wasn't at the front of my mind? I already felt sick to my stomach at the thought of seeing him next week at the New Years' Eve beach party, the last thing I needed was Claire bringing him up every chance she got. I was trying to do the right thing by both of us! Why did no one understand why I couldn't date Brady? Have they never heard the saying that if you love something you have to set it free? The selfless part of me did it to save him from what would surely be a horrible relationship with a bitchy broken girl, but the selfish part was just too afraid of being hurt by someone else. I would rather hurt myself than let someone else hurt me. That would never happen again. I was not going to let another Thaeo into my life.
But I also sure as hell wasn't going to explain that to the world! My deepest insecurities and greatest fears are my own damn business thank you very much. However, I did need to say something to Brady. Something to turn him off of my course before it was too late for the both of us. And I was running out of time. I was falling harder for him with every passing day.
Well, that was another day's mess to deal with. Tonight I would not waste another minute fretting over Brady, I would enjoy Christmas Eve and put off everything till a later date. Much later.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and turned to it. The girl reflected there was lovely at a first glance, with soft pale blond hair framing a delicate and pale face dominated by two mysterious green eyes. But then after a second look you could see the only half-hidden shadows under her eyes resulted from too many sleepless nights, the slight discoloring on her cheek where a bruise was being concealed under layers of makeup, the mixture of fear and pain that lived in those big green pools of her eyes. Her skin, which had always been pale, looked almost sickly so. No amount of makeup and hair styling and clothes could hide the fact that I was not really Eliza. I was an imposter. The real Eliza was the girl I had spent the last four years of my life constructing. The girl who didn't know what pain felt like, the girl who didn't care about anyone or anything, the girl who always had a witty remark to make and gossip to be shared, the girl who knew everything, the girl who was friends with bitches like Camille, the girl who was a bitch herself.
That was the real Eliza. The girl with the mask on. I didn't know who this girl was, the one who would barely contain her emotions and always seemed to be on the verge of crying, the one who felt too much, the one whose face always betrayed her, clearly displaying her true feelings. I hated this girl. And soon, very soon, she was going to die.
I turned away from the glass, scrunching my eyes closed as to not see the new Eliza anymore. I couldn't believe that was me. That was just the girl in the mirror. I am Eliza Young and I know everything. I am Eliza Young and I feel nothing. I am Eliza Young and the world is mine. I repeated these words over and over, like my own special mantra.
Downstairs, the door opened. "Eliza! Dad!" Claire hollered, "They're here!"
"Be normal, Eliza. You can do this," I muttered under my breath before flinging open the door to my room and making my way toward the stairs.
When I made it down to the front entry, hugs were going all around. I hugged Sam, Emily, and Amelia all in turn and bid each of them a Merry Christmas. My motions felt forced, though, practically robotic. How was I supposed to feel Christmas cheer with all of these knots in my stomach?
"Let's go sit in the living room before dinner, shall we?" Dad suggested. At least he looked happy. With Lilah dead he no longer had to worry about Claire's safety as much. However, this meant he would likely go back to hassling Quil any day now.
Sam, Emily, Dad, and Claire all floated into the living room, maintaining a lively conversation. Amelia remained by the door, peeking out the front windows.
"What are you doing, Melia?" I asked, taking a step closer to her.
"It's supposed to snow tonight. I want to see the first snowflake as it touches the ground," she replied with determination. "Hey Eliza, did you know Santa isn't real?" She added as an afterthought.
"What?"I asked with mock surprise. "Of course Santa is real! Where else could all of the presents come from?"
"Mom and Dad. You know, Liza, I am a big kid, now. I don't believe in silly things like Santa anymore. Magic isn't real."
"Why don't you tell that to all of your werewolf friends like Quil and Embry and Seth," I challenged. She tore her eyes away from the window long enough to stick her tongue out at me and then went back to watching the stillness of the night.
"We have windows in the living room, you know…"
"But what if the first snowflake falls when I'm walking there!" Amelia screeched.
"What if the weather man was wrong and you're standing there all night?" I replied.
"Oh, come on sis, where's your Christmas spirit?" Claire questioned light-heartedly. I turned to find that she had come back to the entryway and was now leaning against the wooden railing of the staircase.
"When have I ever had Christmas spirit? You know I could care less about holidays," I gave a bored shrug.
"Really? Because I have a distinct memory of us when we were kids wrapping Quil up in tree garland and calling him a Christmas tree. You even wanted to put presents under him."
I feel my eyes roll, "I was a child."
"And now you are too grown up to ever be happy?" Claire challenged.
I opened my mouth to respond, closed it, and stormed past her, deeply irritated. The other Eliza, the real one, would never let herself get bested in any argument. This pathetic creature clearly had no idea what she was doing. This Eliza was the night to the other one's day.
For the real me, the old me, everything was clear and visible, like the ocean reflecting the summer afternoon sun. But this other side of me—the new one—was constantly in the dark, never knowing what was just two feet in front of her. It was terribly frustrating.
As I stepped past my sister, her hand whipped out and took hold of my wrist. I froze in surprise as she leaned in and whispered harshly at me, "Look, you're not the only one who is growing through stuff, you're just the only one who doesn't understand the meaning of subtle. Pretend to be happy and maybe you won't constantly feel interrogated."
I raised an eyebrow at her and said nothing. After a moment she dropped her hand, smiled, and joined Amelia by the window. I tried to smile, too, and headed into the living room to visit.
Claire
When Quil finally arrived, I should have been relieved. I should have been absolutely overjoyed. Giddy.
Instead, I felt a new knot form in my stomach. A wretched mixture of nerves and… guilt? But what was I guilty for? No, it couldn't have been that.
Okay, that didn't come out right. I was thrilled to see Quil of course, but the feeling was tainted… somehow.
"Merry Christmas," Quil said. From his pocket he pulled out a mistletoe and dangled it above our heads, "Don't leave me in suspense," he added with a chuckle.
I smiled and got on my toes to kiss him, earning a grossed out squeal from Amelia, who promptly escaped to the living room to watch those windows instead. Quil didn't notice, dropping the mistletoe and using both of his arms to hold me close. I wanted to melt completely into him, to relish in the feel of our lips moving together, but one corner of my brain prevented that. One errant thought.
How can Eliza think I am attracted to Mason?
"Merry Christmas to you, too," I told him, pulling away from the kiss but staying in the same position, so his exhales became my inhales.
"I brought presents for everyone, they're in the truck."
"You're so sweet. I love you." I did. I did love Quil. Wholeheartedly. There was no room for any other guy. So why would Eliza say that? Why? I was going to drive myself crazy.
"Love you too, silly," Quil smirked and, after checking over his shoulder for my father, kissed me once more.
"You should hang that mistletoe over the door," I told him as he pulled away, "It'll add to the atmosphere." And give me more excuses to kiss you.
"Whatever you say," Quil ran his fingers through my hair once before heading back out the door to retrieve presents.
The evening was basically perfect. Dad wasn't exactly nice to Quil at dinner, but he wasn't openly hostile either. Sam and Emily kept everyone in high spirits. And I even caught Eliza smiling for half a second… Which was as happy as I figured she was going to get. The highlight of my night was when it started to snow. Never in my life had I seen Amelia so incredibly happy. Quil and I ventured outside with her and played in the snow, engaging in a snow war while Eliza helped Emily clean up. Dad and Sam talked without the awkward tension that usually existed between them. Everything was wonderful.
But all the while there was that nagging feeling lingering inside of me. Each time I looked at Quil, I thought of Mason, and then felt ashamed for doing it. But I wasn't going to worry about that. Mason saved my life. We were friends. It was okay to think about him.
I was supposed to feel gratitude, not guilt.
Around ten thirty, after the Uleys had already left, Dad regrettably kicked Quil out. "I'll miss you so much, baby," I whispered to him, very aware of my father's watch like a needle in my spine. I figured that with my nosey dad around we would have to settle for a simple hug goodnight, but Quil had other ideas. He cupped my face gently in his hands covered my lips with his. I leaned into him and shut my eyes tightly, hoping that if I focused hard enough my dad would disappear.
"Goodnight, Quil," Dad said impatiently. Quil got the hint, pulling away remorsefully and saying his final goodbyes. "Call me later," he whispered in my ear.
After Quil left I retreated to my room, shedding off my fancy clothes and slipping into sweatpants. I still felt weird and decided that I would wait for Quil to arrive home—which would be any minute—and then go ahead and call him. Maybe he would come over once my dad was asleep and lay beside me all night like he had for the past few nights. As far as I knew, tomorrow he was spending Christmas with Old Quil and Joy at Joy's house forty minutes away. If it were up to me we would spend Christmas just the two of us, as far away from La Push as possible.
The news was still running the story of the unexplained house fire in Forks, and every time I saw it I felt like I may throw up, or worse. I felt like my brain would liquidate and spill out from my ears. Dad only watched the news stories when he thought I was upstairs napping… but I knew they were on. I knew the police and media alike were still discussing possible causes for the house fire.
They didn't know that I had done that.
Lilah's shredded corpse had been incinerated inside those walls. And even though she was dead, things would never be the same. I would never go back to normal, at least, not the normal I was before. A new normal... A new Claire.
Maybe that's why I felt so weird. The girl I was had disappeared. She had burned to death in that house, too. The naïve teenage girl who thought that everything would always be okay because love conquered all seemed so ridiculous now. Love hadn't saved the poor family who used to live in that house. Love didn't save Nora Gomez, who just months ago had been strung from the tree outside my window. Why did I get to live while they did not? I had been Lilah's target, not them. So why did I survive? Why was I more worthy of sitting and breathing and celebrating another Christmas Eve?
A gentle but insistent knocking broke me from my reverie.
"Claire," my father open the door slightly and peeked his head in, "There's someone who'd like to talk to you."
On Christmas Eve at ten o'clock? "Who?" I asked.
"Hey, Claire." Mason stepped into the room. Anxiety twisted painfully in the pit of my stomach. For some reason, I felt the urge to turn to the mirror and fix my hair. To shoo Mason out of the room so I could put my nice clothes back on. I was suddenly hyperaware of my appearance. And panicked. Utterly terror stricken.
What the hell? It was just Mason, so why was I reacting this way? Mason and I were friends. For crying out loud, last week I would have considered him one of my closest and most trustworthy friends. And to back that up, he had saved my frickin' life! If he wouldn't have been there, Lilah would have reached me before Quil could. Without Mason, I could have been a goner. So why was I so nervous to see him? Painfully nervous.
Even though I'll admit it was strange, I couldn't very well send him away. Clearly he came here to talk to me about something. I just had to stop acting like a stupid girl and listen.
"Hey," I replied, hating how unsteady my voice sounded. What the actual hell?
"I'll be downstairs in my office, if you need me," Dad assured me, closing the door behind him as he left. Wait, my dad was leaving us alone? Behind a closed door? What kind of a father was he, leaving his daughter alone with a boy?
It. Is. Just. Mason. You're alone with him in your room all the time, remember?
"You look good," Mason observed, a little smile working its way onto his face.
"I do?" I inquired, feeling my body tense. What was he doing?
"Calm down, Claire. I'm not flirting with you. I meant you look good considering a few days ago you were almost a vampire's dinner."
I relaxed partially, scolding myself for reacting how I was. But I couldn't fight off the nerves building inside of me. My palms gathered moisture.
"Oh, yeah, right. Thanks, I almost forgot about my near death experience."
Mason chuckled and crossed the room, finding his way to the rocking chair in the corner by the window. "I must admit that I've been going kind of crazy worrying about you. The entire pack is. We haven't been able to see you. Other than Quil, of course."
For once, he didn't make a face while saying Quil's name. That counted as progress, right?
"Yeah, my dad is very strict about the no visitors thing. He doesn't want me to tire myself out or something. Which is stupid, people get concussions all the time. But I should have known that he'd let you in. He's always liked you."
"He's a great judge of character then," Mason concluded, but the smile on his face made clear that he was just joking around. "But really Claire, how are you? I can't imagine what this has been like."
"I guess I'm fine… considering," I mumbled, watching the snow fall outside my window instead of making eye contact with him.
"Okay, now tell the truth," he suggested. I tried not to look guilty. Physically, I felt about as good as someone could feel after being attacked by an undead killing machine. My head hurt, my scar on my collarbone still hurt when I moved my neck too much, my body had bruises in random places. But at least all of that was logical. I could deal with that. Emotionally—
Without meaning to, I flashed back to what Eliza had mentioned earlier. There is a little part of you that you aren't acknowledging that has it bad for the bad boy. Where had that come from, and how long had she been thinking it? Questions whizzed by so fast I felt dizzy, though maybe that was the concussion's fault. Either way, I couldn't get over the most dizzying question of all. What if Eliza was right?
"I don't know, Mason. Everything is sort of horrible, is that what you want to hear? I feel… different. Like I'm not even myself anymore. Everything is just so… alien." At least this part of me wasn't different, I still trusted Mason enough to tell him anything.
He got up from the rocking chair and started over to me. Slowly, as if to give me a warning, he laid a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off, and threw my arms around him instead. I'd never really hugged Mason before, but it was nice. His arms were warm and comforting like Quil's, but different at the same time. He held me a little tighter—Quil always worried that he was going to literally crush me. At this point I didn't care if Mason ended up crushing me, I just needed the comfort of his embrace.
Neither of us said anything for a minute, we just stood there. Mason ran his fingers through my hair. I thought that it would get awkward after a certain amount of time, but it didn't. Being around Mason was easy. For someone who gave off the persona of being a huge asshole, he really was a good guy. Why he didn't let anyone else see that was a mystery.
"Hey, I never really thanked you… for the other night. You saved my life," I spoke softly into his shoulder. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, though he clearly didn't need it with his body heat to keep him warm. Still, it showed off the definition in his arms and—
Wait! Am I thinking about his arms? What the fuck?
Mason's body shook with gentle laughter, and slowly built into laughter so hysterical that he had to release me.
"Why are you laughing? I'm serious," I frowned, smacking his arm.
"It's just," he said in between bouts of laughter, "our lives are so fucked up. Most sixteen years olds are like 'Hey! Your remembered what I wanted for Christmas, thanks!' and then there is us 'You stopped me from being the main course to a bloodsucker, thank you.'"
I smiled just a little bit, in spite of myself, and plopped down on my bed. "Well of course you can joke about it, you didn't almost die."
"I could have died, too. Maybe. Probably not, cause I'm a tough werewolf and all," Mason boasted.
"Oh, will you shut up?" I teased, rolling my eyes.
"Have I ever shut up? Ever?" He sat down on the bed beside me and pulled my legs into his lap. "Now, are you going to tell me why you've been feeling so weird?"
I chewed on my lip momentarily, going over the question again in my head. "If I understood it myself, I would tell you. Everything that used to feel right just feels wrong these days. And the idea of celebrating the holidays and pretending like I'm a normal girl seems kind of ridiculous," I confessed.
"Claire, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I'm pretty sure you've never been a normal girl. That's why I like you."
"Why you like like me?" I blurted suddenly. Then, just as suddenly, I slapped my hand over my mouth. Did I really just say that? Shit. Shit. Shit!
Mason glanced sideways at me. "I thought we ignored that topic, remember?"
"Why did you save me, Mason? Because Quil is in love with me… or because you are?" I kept my eyes trained on the ground.
Warm fingers gripped my chin and gently turned me to look at them. Mason studied my face carefully. I still couldn't make eye contact. "I saved you for you, Claire. Because you're a person and you're my friend and it was the thing to do under those circumstances. Where is all this coming from?"
I couldn't answer him, because I myself didn't know. "Nevermind. It's nothing, it was stupid. Forget I asked," I mumbled, feeling suddenly mortified.
"Claire," Mason lectured, "friends don't keep secrets."
I looked up at him. Really looked at him, unlike before when I stared at him without actually seeing. In fact, I saw him for what felt like the first time ever. There was a little glint in his eyes that I had never noticed before, but one that was very familiar to me. Quil had that look in his eyes a lot, when he would kiss me or hold me or tell me he loved me.
How had I never noticed it sooner? Was my imprint bond with Quil really so intense that other guys' faces were that invisible to me? What everyone said about Mason's feelings were true. There was no denying it now… not when the evidence was plainly before my eyes.
"But… you don't want to be just my friend, do you? You want…"
"You?" Mason smirked. "Naturally. Is that why you can't face me?"
I yanked my feet off of his lap, feeling suddenly horribly ill. Why did I have to go there? I'd ruined everything. The old Claire was happy to live in denial and act like Mason couldn't actually be in love with me… but now I knew better. And Mason and I could never go back to the way we used to be.
Because I loved Quil. I loved Quil. Not Mason. Mason was my friend and Quil was my soul mate. I couldn't be friends with the guy who was in love with me. That wouldn't be fair to him or Quil. Had I really been that selfish before, that I would drag Mason along and make him witness me so hopelessly in love with another guy? If so, then I deserved to die back in that house. But I hadn't, so this was my chance to set things straight.
"I think you should leave," I said quietly, my back to him.
"Claire, come on. Please don't shut me out. Nothing has changed, okay? Do I wish you felt the same way? Of course. But you don't and I know that. I've known that since the first time I met you, but that didn't stop me from being your friend. I'd rather be your friend than nothing at all."
"I don't think that would be appropriate." My voice sounded harsh, even to my own ears.
"No Claire," Mason protested. Suddenly, I felt his fingers lock on my wrist, "I'm not losing you. I've lost everyone else in my life who means something to me. I can't lose you, too. String me along, I don't care. If I cared I would have left your side a long time ago. The only time I feel normal—the only time I'm happy is when I'm with you. Yeah, I love you, so what? It doesn't matter."
I sucked in a breath. Everything was on the table now. There was no denying that Mason loved me anymore. And I should have cried, or screamed, or punched something, but I didn't. Instead, I turned and finally met Mason's eyes. He looked more human than I'd ever seen him. His eyes flashed with all kinds of feelings: nervousness, desperation, love. I exhaled in a deep sigh.
"This is never going to work, you know. We can't be friends if you're in—if you feel how you do."
"It's worked so far… mostly. And besides, aren't you the one who's always annoyingly optimistic about everything?"
"That was the old me," I informed him desolately.
"I don't believe that, Claire. You're still you, you're still the same quirky, feisty, and frustratingly stubborn girl you were before, you just have a fucking awesome looking scar now."
Even though I knew I shouldn't, I smiled. A syrupy sweet liquid warmth pulsed through my veins. "Whatever you say, Mason. Whatever you say."
"So… are we cool?"
I honestly didn't know the answer to that. I couldn't imagine being friends with Mason while knowing he was in love with me any more than I could handle not being friends with him at all.
"I need time to think about all of this. Alone time."
"That's fine, I'm patient. But not that patient so if you could figure it out soon that would be fantastic," he laughed uncomfortably.
"Let me walk you out," I muttered, crossing the room to the door. Mason got up and followed suit. All was quiet downstairs. Eliza must have been holed up in her room listening to music and Dad's light was on in his office just like he had said.
"So, I'm dying to ask. Are you experiencing any… leech-like symptoms?" Mason asked as we came to a stop at the door.
I rolled my eyes, "Now that you mention it, I ate the mailman this morning. You think that's a sign?"
"Ha ha. I'll take that as a no."
As he opened the front door, I watched with a strange fascination while his muscles tightened and then relaxed. He was very attractive, if I was being honest. Not to say I didn't also find Quil extremely attractive. The fact that I kept comparing Mason to Quil was becoming downright alarming.
"Merry Christmas, Mason," I smiled awkwardly. I wanted to give him another hug but that wouldn't be appropriate, so instead I hung back under the doorframe like an awkward weirdo.
Mason grinned like a little boy, "Look," he indicated above my head, where lo and behond, "Mistletoe, you know what that means, Claire. I guess you'll have to kiss me." For a second I panicked, and then he laughed and it subsided. He was only joking, thank God.
And yet…
Okay, I'm not very proud of myself here. I didn't even understand why I did it, other than momentary insanity. Or maybe the cold was giving me some intense hypothermia that caused people to be utterly delusional.
But I put my hands on either side of Mason's head, got up on the tips of my toes, and kissed him right on the lips.
Mason
She kissed me. At a quarter to eleven or so on December 24th of 2019, Claire Young kissed me. I didn't know why—I'd been only joking of course. Anyone and everyone who knew Claire knew she was head over heels for Quil, the world's biggest and luckiest idiot. But Claire kissed me.
At first I had been too surprised to even understand what was happening. And then, when I realized that Claire, the girl I was completely and unrequitedly in love with, was actually kissing me everything turned a wonderful rosy color. After that it didn't really matter why she had done it, I was going to take what she was offering me. Which in this case were her perfect lips.
My hand found its way to the small of Claire's back, coaxing her closer to me. Her scent dominated my senses, making me unreasonably happy. I placed my other hand on the non-injured part of Claire's collarbone, keeping her in my presence as I deepened the kiss. I guess I expected Claire to push away from me at that point, and then run for the hills. (Isn't that what Eliza always did to Brady?) She didn't.
She opened her mouth to me, and I was in Claire Heaven. I had always thought kissing was completely overrated. What was so great about two people's lips connecting and tongues touching? But of course, I had never kissed Claire before. Now I understood that kissing really was as wonderful as everyone else said. I could kiss Claire forever and never get tired of her soft, sweet lips. When the kiss came to an end, I followed it up with several other short kisses on her lips. I was terrified that whatever had just happened between us would be over the second I stopped kissing her, so I was prolonging the inevitable as long as I could.
"Oh my God, what am I doing?" Claire yelped, shoving away from me in horror.
"Uhh, kissing me?" I told her, sounding way more unsure than I wanted to. I knew she wasn't going to leave me for Quil, I wasn't stupid. I was probably going to get kicked out of the house though, after Quil kicked my ass fifty different ways. Worth it? Probably.
She flinched, and I knew that whatever the hell just happened was not intended."You should go now," she breathed, looking despondently at the ground.
"Maybe we should talk about this?" I suggested, feeling really fucking awkward. Maybe I shouldn't have let her kiss me. Or liked it so much. But I also wouldn't take it back if I could. Well, unless Claire decided she never wanted to have anything to do with me ever again.
"No, I think you should leave. Now. Please. And don't come back around," she turned back into the house and shut the door. And for the next minute and a half, I stood there completely dumbfounded.
Claire
What the fuck had I just done?
Once the door was closed behind me, I took the stairs up two and three at a time, not caring if I tripped as long as I got away from Mason as fast as I could.
When I reached my bedroom I calmly pulled the door closed behind me. Then I crossed the room to get the wooden chair that went along with my desk and dragged it over to the door to use as a lock. Almost robotically, I pulled my curtains shut and then dropped onto my bed.
And then I rolled over onto my pillow and finally did what I'd been dying to do since the second I shut the front door.
I screamed. And then I sobbed.
It didn't matter why I did it.
Only that I had done it.
I kissed Mason. I had even liked it for a minute, before I realized just how wrong it was.
Before I realized that I was going to ruin everything.
Because I didn't love Mason, I didn't want to be with Mason. Clearly, I was a little attracted to him, but I was very, very, passionately in love with Quil. I needed Quil.
When Quil found out… he would hate me. Then I would have nothing. Nothing.
He would never forgive me.
I would never forgive me.
What a fucking mess you've made for yourself, Claire.
Eliza
"Yeah so my grandparents are here and Mom and Keith of course and last night Travis came over and met them all. Well, Mom already knew him but, it was so awkward, I swear!" Lilly chattered excitedly. I held the phone between my cheek and shoulder while applying a top coat on my freshly painted nails.
"He's just Travis, I'm sure it went fine. It's not like you're dating a thug," I replied, examining my nails for any flaws.
"Yeah but I've never had a boyfriend before!" Lilly replied.
"So are you and Travis official then? Like really official?"
There was a pause on her end of the line. "I—I guess so. He called me his girlfriend the other day. Yeah, I guess he is my boyfriend," she stated, sounding less energetic than she had just a minute ago.
"Something wrong?" I asked her.
"Nah, I'm fine. Speaking of fine, how're you doing? I've been dying to see you!"
"I'm great. I mean, still a bruise on my cheek, but Emily got me this awesome concealer from the store Monday so no one can even see it. You couldn't even tell it was there when we had family Christmas Eve tonight.
"I hope you told everyone I said hi. I miss you guys. I'll try and come down to La Push on Friday!"
"Okay, great."
"Oh, and Liza?" Lilly added.
"Yeah?"
"I know you won't talk about it, but after Saturday night… and the dance… well… Just don't break Brady's heart—okay? Merry Christmas!" She hung up quickly. My hand clenched, causing my not-yet-dry nails to smudge black polish all over the palm of my hand.
"Damn it!" I chucked my phone onto the bed and started off toward the bathroom for polish remover. I had called Lilly to take my mind off of Brady—not to think about him even more.
Since Saturday night I'd received phone calls, had messages written in the frost on my window, and listened to the light clinking of pebbles against the side of the house. I knew Brady was trying to get a hold of me, desperately trying even, but I was too much of a coward to face him yet.
Despite what Lilly said, I would have to hurt Brady. And in order to do that I'd have to basically torture myself. But there was no other option. Either I took the pain now and cut things off before anything too major happened… Or I let this relationship go even further down the road and face a heartbreak so horrible I would never recover. I couldn't afford to let this little love connection go any further.
Almost as if willed into existence just by thinking, my father peeped his head through the door. "Eliza, that Brady kid is here to see you, he claims it is important."
"Don't let him in. Tell him we'll talk later," I informed him, feeling my chest tighten painfully. I was a mess of nervous energy.
"Too late," came a devastatingly familiar voice. And then… Brady. He appeared almost from nowhere, materializing behind my father and promptly scooting around him. "Thank you sir, I'll only be a few minutes," he expressed, smiling politely at my dad. Dad made a hmph sort of sound and stalked off, muttering something about how many teenage boys were going to come to the house to talk to his daughters tonight and why they couldn't just spend time with their own damn families. I squirmed uncomfortably.
But Brady clearly didn't notice my discomfort. He smiled warmly, in that contagious way that he does. For a second, I wanted to smile with him, but then I remembered why I shouldn't. Why I couldn't. And I realized this would probably be the last time Brady flashed that beautiful smile in my direction ever. Not if I did what I needed to do.
"Hey, I've been trying to call you for days," he said, making his way across the room with a sort of skip in his step and then leaning in to kiss me quickly on the lips, "How've you been? I've been going out of my mind. I mean, I know that Quil said you were doing fine but… still."
I swallowed and took a small step back. "Brady, I think we need to talk."
He didn't sense my mood clearly, because he was still lit up like a Christmas tree, "I know. I haven't really talked to the rest of the pack about what happened between us Saturday night, what are we supposed to tell them about us?"
Here goes nothing… "Us? What us?" I inquired.
Brady's grin faltered momentarily and came back only half as bright. "Well, I mean, you kissed me?" He sounded confused, almost like he was asking me.
"Yeah, so? You kind of saved my life. And then there was the matter of persuading you to go back in there and save my sister…" I felt disgusted with myself as I giggled. "Wait, you didn't think that I actually… Did you think that I had feelings for you? Brady we've been over this."
The smile was dead now—the light gone. I wanted to punch myself in my bruised face… it would probably hurt less.
"Don't do this, Angel. No more hiding from me. Why is it that every time you and I have a moment you shut me out? Why are you lying to both of us?" His face reflected disappointment, but his voice revealed long buried anger.
"I'm not lying," I told him gently, turning to the mirror and fluffing my hair. The more bored I looked and the less I had to meet his eyes the more convincingly I could pull this off. "When I'm kissing you, dancing with you, acting like maybe I could feel something for you, that is the real lie, Brady. Here's a lesson for you, I'm not a nice girl. I don't care if I have to step on a few people to get to where I need to go. I've already tried to teach you this lesson, or don't you remember what happened in the forest last July?" The memory washed over me, flooding even the most remote corners of my mind.
How I had wrapped my arms around him, leaned in close so our foreheads touched and our noses just barely brushed each other. How I had dangled myself in front of him while our lips hung just inches apart and then laughed, telling him to never talk to me again. Had I been in love with Brady even back then, unknowingly? Come to think of it, all of this pain in my life had started right around the time Brady decided to kiss me on the beach. Brady caused me more pain than happiness… I was doing the right thing here.
So why did I feel so horrible and twisted inside?
"I remember every time I am with you, Angel. Every minute of every hour… even the minutes that I don't want to remember. Your name is branded into my brain. Into my heart. Stop resisting me." His anger slowly dissipated into pleading. I chewed so violently on my lip that the rusty taste of blood danced over my tongue.
Better… I would have to lie better.
"There's someone else!" I blurted before I could even really consider what I was saying.
Brady's head snapped up, searching my eyes to see if this was the truth. I tried to maintain a perfect poker face. "It's true," I added.
"Who?" Brady's voice was so low I couldn't tell if he was devastated or raging mad. He wasn't looking at me anymore, but staring intently at the wall.
This was my only chance to convince him. I had to make Brady hate me so much that he would never want to speak to me again. "Thaeo," I muttered, despising the rotten taste his name left in my mouth. The idea was preposterous of course, I loathed Thaeo with all of my heart and always would, but Brady didn't need to know that.
"What?" He demanded, and suddenly his hands gripped my shoulders and his face hung just inches from mine. His hold on me was not painful—quite the opposite in fact—but the lividness in his eyes terrified me. "You're kidding, right?"
"After our date last month, Thaeo called me. He got my number from some girl at the Valley School. He apologized for what happened when we were kids and begged me to forgive him. He was young and dumb, he didn't realize what he had until it was gone. I mean, that's not so uncommon, we were little kids practically. I was only eleven. He said he's thought about me constantly for the last four years, that he wasn't able to stop thinking about me. But I'm not a total idiot, you know. I made him work to win my forgiveness. That's why I asked Collin to the dance, and then agreed to go with you when Collin ducked out. I needed him to think he had competition." Brady said nothing, so I continued, having no idea where these wild lies were coming from. It didn't matter at this point if Brady hated me or not, I hated myself more than he ever could. "It all worked out nicely. I saw him yesterday. We got back together, Brady. He's always been the only one for me. All this time. No offense, but you really didn't have a chance. It's nothing personal."
Brady appeared to be torn between crying and punching holes in the wall. I hoped it would be the latter, though. At least anger I could handle.
"I don't believe you, you know."
"Yes you do, Brady. You're just hurt… and acting like a child about it."
"No, you've been lying through your teeth since I got here! You. Care. About. Me. I can't think of any clearer way to say it. And I don't need to! We both know it!"
"You're delusional, you know," I informed him.
"Okay, say you are telling the truth? You really think that douche bag kid Thaeo is the one for you? Did you forget the emotional trauma he put you through? Why is he so much better than me?"
"He's human, for one," I snapped, feeling my chest tighten with pain. "Normal. He's not a few years away from being middle aged but trapped in the body of a teenager."
"That didn't seem to matter to you when you kissed me. Or have you forgotten what happened on the lawn?"
"Damn it, we've been over this wolf boy! Get this through your brain! I was overwhelmed from nearly dying and I needed you to go save my sister. I had to distract you and kiss you or else I would never have convinced you to go back in and rejoin the fight. It's not because I was overcome by some weird passion"—except yeah, I totally was—"and just threw myself at you."
"Stop lying, Angel," Brady begged, "Please stop. You knew exactly what you were doing when you kissed me."
"I am fifteen years old! I don't know anything!" I shouted.
Brady released me from his hold and laughed bitterly. "Oh yeah? What happened to 'I'm Eliza and I know everything' hmm?"
"I know what I can say to manipulate people, I know how to earn forgiveness no matter what I do, I know how to fit in, I know when someone is lying to me, I know how to get what I want, I know when my dad is in a good mood… I don't know a damn thing about love. I am an immature teenager! You are a grown fucking man. You don't want someone like me. I know we would never work. So give up on us already!" How dare Brady throw my words back at me!
Brady perked up, only slightly, and took one of my hands. "You know when someone is lying to you?" He inquired curiously. "Then you will know that I am speaking the truth when I say that I am in love with you, Eliza. Sure, you can be a real bitch sometimes, and I wish that I could just get over you, but I can't. It doesn't matter if you're difficult, if you're damaged and insecure and afraid. I don't care that everyone thinks you're crazy. I love you and I don't care if my friends think that I am even crazier than you. You're all I can think about. Your big green eyes and your curly blonde hair. You're so beautiful, more beautiful than I think you even realize. And smart, you crack me up without even trying. You make me smile like no one else can, and you make me angry like no one else can. But hey, that's love. I know you think you're weak, but you're so strong. You've been through so much and I know you think it has left you broken and unable to love and be loved but that isn't true. I love you so much. I need you to believe that. And yes, I'm a werewolf but that isn't all I am. I have never loved a girl like I love you, and I don't care what you think. I don't care if you decide to hate me later, because I am going to love you either way."
And there it was. The words that no one could ever go back on. The words that I didn't think anyone would ever waste the time using on someone as horrible as me. I love you.
It was the most beautiful thing my ears had ever heard. The most wonderful things I could ever imagine being said to me, from the guy I loved more desperately than I ever thought possible… and none of it mattered.
It didn't matter that Brady had made his feelings crystal clear. It didn't matter that everything he said was more than I had ever dreamed of hearing. It didn't matter. In fact, it made things worse.
Because I still had to break his heart.
"Damn you, Brady," I muttered, feeling the tears as they gathered in the corners of my eyes. The lump in my throat felt equivalent to a baseball. "Why did you do that?" I wanted nothing more than to throw a fit. I wanted to kick and scream and sob and punch things until there was no more pain left and I was totally numb.
Brady didn't respond, leaving me no choice but to painfully continue. "Why did you just make such a huge fool out of yourself? Why make yourself sound so pathetic and desperate when you know that you're more like an overprotective brother to me."
"Do you kiss your brother?" He was sounding more and more hysterical with each passing minute, and I knew he was trying his hardest not to listen to what I was saying to him. But he looked absolutely deflated.
"Look, I don't want to say this, okay. I don't want to do this. Why are you going to make me say it Brady? You really want to know that every time we get close, each moment you believed that maybe, just maybe, I was falling for you was all fake? I use people to get what I want, Brady! It's who I am and what I do! I only look out for myself! I'm selfish! Just get over me!"
"What part of 'I am in love with you' is so hard for you to grasp, Liza?"
"All of it! I treat you like shit. The fact that you think you love me is pathetic. You, Brady, are pathetic! Thaeo would never make such an idiot out of himself."
"Thaeo is not your soul mate and you know it, Angel," Brady told me, taking my face in his hands and holding me with gentle firmness. "I love you more in a day than he can in a lifetime."
If I heard Brady tell me he loved me one more time I was literally going to strangle him. Anything to make the pain stop.
"Has it ever occurred to you that we're not soul mates? If we were wouldn't you have imprinted on me? But you didn't—so there! Case closed!"
Brady's face changed so suddenly he almost seemed to be laughing. Shit, I shouldn't have mentioned imprinting. "Is that what this is about? You won't give me a chance because I didn't imprint on you and you're afraid of turning into Leah. Who says that has to happen? Not every wolf imprints, Eliza! Look at Seth! And almost the entire pack! Imprinting is the exception, not the rule. It doesn't mean I love you any less."
Okay, that's it!
I tore myself out of his hands and slapped him away. "Just shut up, Brady! Stop trying to put words in my mouth! Shut up! Shut up!" How the hell could he see right through me? I didn't know what else I could say to make him hate me. "I. Don't. Want. To. Love. You. Okay? I don't want a werewolf. I hate werewolves even more than I hate vampires! All you do is hurt the people you are trying to protect! They're the ones to get hurt! Not you! Why would any girl want to date someone like that?" At least this part wasn't a complete lie. I hated that Brady was magical. I hated his werewolf side. I hated the fact that as long as he was a werewolf, he could imprint. He could forget that he ever felt this way about me… but I would never get over him. There was no way out of this for me. I was so screwed. The tears were on the brink of spilling over.
"I'll stop phasing! I'll stop being a werewolf!" Brady's eyes started to look a little wet themselves. It was too much for me to handle.
"Leave," I commanded, shoving at him with my arms. I couldn't cry with him watching! He could not see me cry over him.
"But Eliza—"
"Please leave," I pleaded softly.
"Eli—"
"LEAVE!" I yelled with all of the anger I could muster. "Get the fuck out of my house and do not come back. Leave me alone. Stay the hell away from me, I'm serious. And see a counselor, cause you're a stalker."
For a second he looked like he was going to try to protest again, but he didn't. Instead, Brady exhaled slowly and walked toward the door, his face completely blank. He yanked the door open and then turned back to face me one last time. "Have it your way, Eliza. Enjoy the rest of your miserable life."
Then he was gone… and the floodgates opened up. I let them fall as silently as I could manage until I heard the front door shut downstairs (or slam, rather). Then I let it all out, and by the time I hit my mattress my body was already racked with pained ugly sobs.
I wasn't sure if it was a few seconds or a few minutes when I noticed Claire standing over me. I didn't say anything, and neither did she, but with one look I knew we understood each other perfectly. With that, she sat down and pulled me into her arms. She did not ask what had happened, and I did not ask if she had overheard. Instead I sat and cried all of my makeup from my face onto her shirt while she quietly reassured me that everything was going to be okay.
"Just let it out, Eliza, just let it out." Her voice sounded slightly off, and when I looked up it seemed like maybe she was crying herself—but my eyes were too blurred with tears to be sure.
"I hate myself, Claire. I really do," I choked out, surprised that I was allowing this to happen. I shouldn't be crying on my sister any more than she should have been crying on me. I definitely shouldn't be showing so much vulnerability around her… yet here we were.
"Me too, Liza," Claire choked, and I was sure she was crying now, although I had no idea why. "Me too," her last words came out as only a strangled whisper.
"You want to talk about it?" I asked softly.
"Not at all," she murmured.
"Me either."
"Oh, and Liza, one more thing," Claire said, stroking my hair.
"Yeah?"
"Merry Christmas," she told me. I snorted in spite of myself. The alarm clock beside my bed read 12:01. December 25th.
"Merry fucking Christmas, sis."
A/N Pt. 2 aka "Don't Kill Me!": So I know things look rough right now, but have a little faith. Things aren't always as bad as they seem. Oh, except sometimes they are. (I know I'm trolling, sorry! Okay, well not really sorry because if I were I wouldn't be trolling in the first place but…) Anyway, I would love to hear everyone's thoughts on this chapter so—REVIEW!
