Author's Note – I've had this chapter pretty much done for a few months now, but could never finish it. Not updating is like the worst way to build readers, but I can only update when I feel the inspiration. Kind of a sad story of my life hah. Nevertheless, I do hope you enjoy this latest installment. For those of you wondering, I do know where this story is going for at least the next five chapters if not more. So in my mind I have every intention to continue this. My take on the Quil and Claire world is still a story that interests me, a story I'd love to tell properly.
Chapter Four
By midday Saturday, I was losing it.
The entire contents of my closet had been scattered haphazardly over my dresser, desk, bed and floor. It felt like I had tried on every possible item of clothing I owned in an attempt to find the perfect outfit for my job interview at the Forks Diner today. I slid down to the floor and sat miserably amongst my scattered garments. I dejectedly picked up a long purple peasant skirt and wrapped it around my shoulders in an attempt to create some seemingly effortless new fashion statement. My eyes flashed over to the full-length mirror to my right, appraising my disillusioned attempt at dressing myself. This was pointless. I had never before understood the age-old dilemma of "I have nothing to wear," until now. It felt as though nothing I owned would work. I breathed out a heavy sigh as I heard the whirring engine of Quil's truck pull up in my driveway.
"Lily!" I yelled out to my older sister who was hopefully still at home.
"What Claire?" she called back from the kitchen.
"Can you come up here, please!?"
A speedy Quil bounded into my room almost immediately, with a familiar look of concern etched into his face. "What's wrong Claire?" he demanded.
My sister walked in after him and assessed the site before her, her eyes scanning the room and then eventually resting on my face.
"Claire-" she began.
"Lily, I can't figure out anything! This is futile! Nothing I wear seems right. Maybe this is a sign? Maybe I shouldn't go to the interview?"
"This is what I've been saying all al-" Quil started.
"QUIL!" cried Lily, cutting him off. "She's going to this interview, I don't care what you say." Lily glared at Quil, a fierce determination in her eyes and her arms crossed in front of her chest as if to say "if you want to stop Claire, you'll have to go through me first." Quil was used to this occurrence, and simply smiled at Lily, probably taking in the ridiculousness of the situation. Lily was probably 110lbs and 5 feet tall, even shorter than me at 5'5", and had no chance in the world of physically stopping the towering Quil from doing anything.
"Someone, please, just help me choose something to wear!" I pleaded desperately with them. Lily looked over to me and relaxed her arms as she walked over to my dresser to inspect the clothes I had strewn across the open drawers. She held up a jade coloured shirt and said "How about this one? You can wear it with your black pants? This is easy, and you'll look professional."
"But do I want to look professional? Come on, this isn't some office job, it's a diner." Quil sat quietly on my bed, taking in the conversation before him.
"What do you think Quil?" I continued.
"Uhmm…" he began awkwardly, glancing over to my sister who looked as if she was ready to kill if he said the wrong thing, "I think you look beautiful just the way you are." I smiled. Trust Quil to melt my heart when I least expect it. I sighed as I watched my sister roll her eyes. She always found it funny that Quil was always hanging around me, and was always in on teasing Quil with Jacob and Embry when he pretty much always gave in to my demands. However, on the other hand, she did appreciate his presence in my life. She knew Quil was fiercely overprotective, a trait Lily and Quil shared to some extent. She understood he had my best interests at heart, but couldn't fully comprehend why. I couldn't fully comprehend why either. I guess the most logical reason would be that Quil is really loyal. For as long as I've known him, he's had the same friends - friends he treats like his own family. That made it easy to understand why he'd stick for so long, but never really explained why he chose me. He had known my sister as for as long as he'd known me and yet he was never as close to her. I guess it was just another one of Quil's mysteries that I didn't know why I accepted.
Lily left the room and quickly returned with one of her own dresses. It was a light champagne coloured A-line dress that looked as though it would reach the top of my knees. She held it up for my approval as I ran up to hug her and pulled the dress out of her hands. "Thank you!" I exclaimed, immediately pulling my sweater off, revealing my white singlet underneath. Quil turned his head to the floor as my gaze met his for a split second. He was obviously embarrassed that I was undressing in front of him, even though I wasn't being indecent. I half wanted him to look at me.
I unzipped the back of the dress and pulled it roughly over my head in haste. Lily was on hand to zip me back up and tied the ribbon around my waist. Taking off my old jeans from underneath, I looked into the mirror and assessed the outfit. Lily pressed nude-coloured tights into my hands and I tried to multitask as I inexpertly pulled tights up my legs and watched myself in the mirror. I liked how the sleeves reached my elbows, and the dress didn't expose too much cleavage. As hard as it was to admit it to myself, I looked somewhat elegant. After slipping on some tan leather flat shoes, I quickly grabbed my bag with my resume inside and slipped a coat over my shoulders. "Are we ready to go?" Quil asked, as we walked out of my room and down the stairs.
"Yes," I replied happily, opening the front door.
"Good luck," Lily called after me as Quil opened the truck door for me to get in.
The drive to Forks seemed to go faster than I expected. A blur of greenery and asphalt passed by my eyes as I was starting to feel uncertain about what I was doing. Quil started asking me questions to help me prepare for my interview.
"Ok, so what if they ask you why you want to work there, what will you say?" he asked. I squirmed and sunk lower into my seat, resting my forehead on the clammy palm of my hand. "Claire?" Quil asked, still looking at the road. After a brief moment of silence, he glanced over to me and noticed that something was definitely wrong. With one hand on the steering wheel he reached out to touch my face with his warm hand, "Claire! You're so cold and your face looks so pale. What's wrong?" he asked urgently.
"Ugh…pull over Quil," I muttered, with my stomach aching and churning.
He immediately swerved onto the grass next to the road as I unlocked the door and pushed my way out of his truck. Within seconds he was outside with me, a frantic look on his face telling me he had no idea what was going on. I hunched over and vomited. Quil held my long dark hair as I continued to disgustingly heave the entire contents of my stomach on the side of the road.
"Yuck," I said, turning my face away from him and trying to wipe my mouth. "I'm sorry you had to see that, that was just gross," I said, embarrassed. Within seconds he held out his t-shirt under my face. I looked up to him; the look of concern had faded away into a look of empathy. "Here, take this to clean your face, you shouldn't mess up your coat."
"Are you sure? I don't want to ruin your clothes. It's so cold out too, you'll freeze."
"It's nothing that can't be washed out, Claire. And you know how warm I am. I don't even need clothes really. Just take it!" he said smiling at me.
I gingerly took his white t-shirt into my hands and properly wiped away the mess still on my face.
"I'm so sorry Quil, I just got so nervous. This has never happened before, even I'm surprised," I said, getting back into the truck. I started chewing a piece of gum to take the disgusting taste out of my mouth.
"Don't worry Claire-bear, you'll be fine," he said reassuringly.
"I will be fine," I repeated slowly, as we pulled into the parking lot of the Forks Diner.
Quil waited for me in his truck as I made my way into the diner. I glanced back at him as I reached to push the door open and he gave me a reassuring look. A bell jangled as I pressed the door open, and I scanned the room. Customers were packed into booths around the restaurant, hastily enjoying their Saturday lunches as waitresses bustled around them, taking orders, serving food and cleaning tables. I hesitated for a moment as I clutched my resume in my hands and evaluated the room. Seemingly out of nowhere, a perky middle-aged woman sprung out from beside me. "You must be Claire?" she said happily, shaking my hand. She looked anything but demure. Her bright red hair was somewhat tamed into a frizzy bun at the back of her head, her long nails were laquered with a bright shade of pink and her emerald green dress was only toned down by the black apron she wore over it, embroidered with a Forks Diner logo on the top left.
"How did you know?" I asked.
"Oh, you just have that scared job interview look about you," she replied smiling.
I inwardly groaned, but tried to appear more confident.
"I'm Kelly, the store manager here. Anyways, it's so busy in here, you better come back with me into my office and we can do your interview there," she said, as she set off towards a door next to the kitchen.
**********
"I got the job!" I exclaimed as I threw myself into the cab of Quil's truck and slammed the door with excited vigour. "See, see," I said, holding up my very own Forks Diner apron.
"Congratulations Claire-bear!" he said, pulling me in for a hug.
"Thanks Quil. It means a lot to me that you've come to accept this," I replied into his shoulder. We pulled apart but he held onto me at arms length and said, "Well, I still would rather if you didn't...but I can't stop you, so I might as well support you."
"Haha, thanks Quil. I promise I will keep on top of my school work and not get into trouble if that makes you any happier," I said.
"Oh, I'd like to see how long this lasts, " he added sarcastically, starting the car and driving back home to La Push.