Shouldn't let you torture me so sweetly

I ring the doorbell of Claire's house. Claire's mother enlisted me to take Claire to her kindergarten class, which starts today, a month after Claire turned five. I was more than willing, of course. Mrs. Young pulls open the door and sighs in relief. "Oh, I have never been so happy to see you here, Quil," she breathes. "Thanks so much for doing this. I'm already ten minutes late, and I wouldn't have been able to take Claire to school, so..."

"Go ahead, Mrs. Young," I encourage. "I've got Claire." And speak of the devil, I hear Claire come running in, her plastic flip-flops slap-slapping against the hardwood floor.

"Quil!" Claire squeals. She launches herself into my arms, and she's not too big yet for me to swing her around in a big circle. I place her on the ground and she zooms down the hall, calling, "Look at my backpack, Quil! Look!"

"Thanks again, Quil," Mrs. Young says earnestly. "I don't think there's anyone I would trust Claire more with." And with that, she picks up her black leather briefcase and climbs into her silver sedan. My beat up old Buick looks like scrap metal compared to it, but it runs just fine.

I chase down the way Claire headed, and I find her excitedly standing in the kitchen. "Quil, look at my brand-new backpack!" She's clutching a Hannah Montana bag and thrusts it at me. I take it and pretend to inspect it thoroughly, muttering, "Hmmmm," as I looked. Claire bounces in place, grinning.

"Wow, Hannah Montana!" I gush, grimacing internally. Miley Cyrus's nasal, immensely irritating voice pops into my head: "Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has those days," and I don't see the appeal with little girls. But, hey, Claire likes it, and I won't shoot her down. "Do you like her?"

"Yeah!" Claire cheers. "And look at my lunch box!" I put down the Hannah Montana bag just to have another thrust into my hands. Claire's lunch box is bright pink with a picture of Hannah looking like she'd been electrocuted, and the words Part Time Pop Star.

"Whoa, two Hannah Montana bags?" I demand in mock jealousy. "You're so lucky!" Claire giggles, pleased. "What time does your school begin, Claire-bear?"

"I don't know," Claire says, unfazed. I shrug and give her her bags.

"C'mon, I'll take you now," I tell her.

I strap her in the backseat, with the car seat Mrs. Young had given me. Her Hannah Montana bags sit close beside her. I drive carefully, following the instructions from Mrs. Young. When we pull up at the little brick building, there are no cars in the lot.

"Shoot," I mutter. I'd long ago learned to watch my language around Claire and her little friends. I turn back to Claire. "It looks like we're a little early. Do you want to go home, or sit in the car and wait?"

"Let's wait," Claire decides.

So we sit and wait. It's not long, maybe ten or fifteen minutes, before people start to show. The first to arrive is a red pickup that reminds me of Bella Cullen's old truck. A girl gets out of the driver's seat, but I don't get a good look at her until she turns around, clutching a little boy's hand.

She's really pretty. She has long, long jet-black hair that falls in a straight, shiny curtain to her waist, contrastingly pale ivory-colored skin, and insanely blue eyes. I quickly look away, pretending to tend to one of Claire's needs. Claire giggles quietly. "What is it?" I ask her curiously.

"That's Henry de Lune," Claire confides. "He has a crush on me."

I laugh a little too, and try not to let the protective edge completely seize me. I look back to the girl and the little boy. "Do you want to go say hi to him?" I suggest.

"Okay," Claire agrees, and I unstrap her from the seat. She grabs her Hannah Montana bags, and together we walk toward the school. Henry sees us coming and stops, waiting to meet Claire. The girl stops, too, turning to see what Henry is waiting for. She catches my eye, and I smile a little. Henry tugs on her hand, and she releases him. He runs up to Claire with a smile on his little face.

"Hi, Claire," he says with a winning smile.

"Hi, Henry," Claire responds, smiling back, though not as widely.

As Henry and Claire converse about whatever five-year-olds talk about, the girl approaches me. She smiles at me apologetically. "Sorry about Henry. He has the biggest crush on Claire, and he comes on just a little too strong sometimes," she laughs. "I'm Jacqueline, by the way. Jacqueline de Lune." She holds out her hand for me to shake.

"Quil Ateara," I introduce with another grin. Unthinkingly, I shake her hand. She pulls it away quickly.

"Jeez, your hand is hot!" Jacqueline comments.

"Um, it's the, uh, temperature of the car," I stammer, that being my only excuse. Jacqueline eyes me strangely, but shrugs it off, not caring enough to ask.

"So, how are you related to Claire?" Jacqueline asks conversationally.

"She's my niece," I tell her. That's what Emily, Sam, and I came up with.

"Oh. Henry's my little brother," explains Jacqueline. I can see the resemblance; they both have the same colored eyes.

"He's a cute kid," I compliment as we watch his attempts at premature flirting. Claire doesn't seem to be affected by his attempts, poor kid.

Jacqueline laughs. "He's a little charmer, all right," she says sarcastically.

I look at her, really look. I see this really pretty girl with a sense of humor, who obviously cares for her little brother. And then I look to Claire. My other half, my imprint. Even though she's only five years old, I knew from the second I saw her that she completed me. I look back to Jacqueline, and her blue eyes are looking curiously at me. "You okay?" she asks tentatively.

It takes me a while to answer, because I honestly don't know what will come out of my mouth. "Yeah, I'm fine," I tell her. She holds her gaze for a minute, then looks away. Now what do I do? Do I ask her out? I have no idea what to do. I'm torn between my Claire, and this girl Jacqueline, who I'm sure could keep up with me.

"Henry!" Jacqueline calls. "Come on! We have to get you to school!" Henry trots obediently to her, and she looks at me, smiling slightly. "Nice talking to you, Quil. I'll see you around, I guess."

Now's my chance. If I want to say something, now's my chance. I open my mouth, but all that comes out is, "See you around." I can't make myself do it. I can't turn my back on Claire and just ask Jacqueline out. I don't seem to be physically capable here. So I let her go, and fetch Claire.

It's something I never grow to regret, letting go of Jacqueline.

did y'all notice that if Claire and Henry ever got married, her name would be Claire de Lune? i thought that was hilarious, so i had to make their last name de Lune. sorry the last one was short, but i liked it. thanks to chocoholic4eva (the girl who never fails to have something to say!) and CallMeEmbrys for reviewing. i heart you! no ghostreaders please. if you're gonna favorite/alert me, review me. i'd rather have reviews than favorites, ya know. thanks for reading! now go review! lovelovelove, m