Just to make for better, easier, more enjoyable reading...

I'm not going to write about her going there each night; each separate journal entry signifies a new day.

If he writes more than once during a day, I'll simply write 'Later' in between the two passages. I don't want to interrupt the flow of things by describing Claire's reaction every time she reads, so I'll try and keep most of her appearances at the beginning or the end of a chapter.

If that isn't clear, please PM me or leave a review.

Enjoy! I'll try to keep A/N's shorter from now on!

Vibrate. Vibrate. Vibrate.

1 New Text Message. Read now?

I clicked yes, wondering who I was expecting to hear from. I'd been keeping pretty low-key recently...

Hey C. It's Winry. Snuck my phone. Camp sux! No cute boys. Ttly not wrth it. Lucky u, getting 2 stay home w/ Mr. Hunk!

Ugh.

Hey Win, I typed quickly. Sry bout camp. 'Mr. Hunk' is officially off my radar. Call me wen u can and I'll fill u in.

Well, to the best of my ability, anyway. Obviously, no matter how pissed I was, I wouldn't friggin tell the world about wolves... or vampires... or (I shuddered even thinking about it) imprinting...

Okay. Maybe, after I calmed down and thought about it and... read Quil's journal... I decided that imprinting wasn't so bad. Maybe I *slightly* overreacted when I told Quil to go shove the whole phenomenon up a place where the sun don't shine. But come on now. Put yourself in my shoes for like, a split second.

The guy you've been in love with since practically forever finally, finally tells you that against every logical reason in the universe, he's in love with you too.

And proceeds to tell you he's done something called imprinted. Oh, you don't know about imprinting? I'll explain real quick. Werewolves- or shape shifters, more accurately- want to keep the doggy blood a flowin'. To ensure that happens, they form a bond- against their will, I may add- with a chick so that no matter what, a poor girl with some badass wolf genes is pretty much the only thing that matters to them anymore.

Translation: The guy's free will is taken away, and the girl knows that he only loves her 'cause he has to.

Romantic, right?

Bleh. Story of my life.

Anyway. Now on to some things that are actually interesting and not just me whining about a super hot werewolf dude that would practically die to save me.

Now, Quil 's patrol schedule always seemed strange to me. He told Jacob he'd work whenever- days, nights, and any time in between- as long as he was free from three in the afternoon til seven p.m. on weekdays. And on weekends, he always had no problem taking the shifts that the other guys hated- which was usually in the 6:00 - 11:00 zone, because they all had dates. Except him.

I always thought he was weird, and only hung out with me all the time because I was free whenever he wasn't working. How was I supposed to know it was because he had planned it that way? During summer, I always wondered how he could spend the entire day with me and still make time for work. He never told me he was usually getting about four hours sleep because he had to patrol half the night.

Yup, he seriously just told me that when I called him the other day to yell at him some more. How am I supposed to stay angry at a guy who would do that for me? He wasn't even trying to make me feel guilty. I had forced it out of him.

And that brings me to where I am now. Walking to Quil's, going to apologize.

And no, I'm NOT doing it just so I can read about it in his journal later on tonight. Geez, what kinda girl do you take me for?

***Later on That Night***

Shut up.

I opened the journal and began reading the new passage....s? He'd written right after I snuck out yesterday?

August 10th

I miss you.

So, so much my Claire. Can I still call you my Claire? Even though you don't want me anymore?

It would probably be accurate to call me completely useless at the moment. I know you visited just now- I heard the rhythm of your heart beating from outside, so I ran in to see you for the first time in seven days...

But I was too late. I can still smell you in the air. It's torture, sitting in here. But sweet torture. Ah, such sweet torture, indeed...

I'm assuming you came to pick up your phone; it's gone from the table. I was waiting for the perfect moment to call your house and tell you to come pick it up so I could see you, but I guess I was too late for that, too. So I'll just wait right here until you tell me you want to see me again...

Later

I was sent home during patrol after Jacob referred to me as a 'lovesick puppy'- how cute of him.

I wish I had something to fill my mind with. Thinking of you hurts too much.

I blinked a few times. When I saw him a few hours ago, he had been fine...

I flipped the page to begin reading what he'd written after I left today.

August 11th

I'm alive!

I hadn't known how dead I really was until I saw you today. You apologized.

You apologized. Did you honestly think it was your fault? I was the one who told you something you weren't ready for. I shouldn't have told you. I knew I shouldn't have...

I still couldn't explain it right, even when you gave me a second chance to. Imprinting isn't a curse, it's a blessing. For me, anyway. I know you feel differently, but no matter what I do, I can't seem to change that. Maybe I shouldn't be trying, though. I don't want to force you into anything, especially when you believe that's exactly what you're doing to me.

Thinking about that makes me start to shake. Forced, forced, forced. That's not right! I love you, Claire. I love you with every fibre of my being. Without you, there would be nothing to live for, and I want you and I need you and

Broke my pen. Had to clean up the mess.

Claire, if there were words to describe how I feel about you- which there aren't, by the way, because nothing can- 'Forced' wouldn't even be near the list. If you want me to give up being a wolf and just live my life with you right now, I would do it with no regrets. The gravitational pull I feel towards you wouldn't go away. I love you. Nothing will ever change that.

August 12th

You came over today, again. Things might just be going back to normal between us. Well, maybe. I don't dislike being your friend; it's just difficult to be only that. But it's what you want, so of course it's okay.

I set some rules- well, your Uncle Sam did, but he didn't want to seem like the bad guy and he made me tell you. First of all, we have to keep our physical relationship to a minimum. You reacted strangely to that...

'Pfft. Physical? Puh-leez, Quil. You think I can't keep my hands off you? Yeah... right... pfft... whatever...'

And you seemed somewhat nervous, embarrassed even. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I understand that you don't want me. I'm just telling you what Sam said.

Rule Number Two: No more spending the night.

Your parents, surprisingly, didn't think that was fair. They told me it was because it would be hard for you to adjust. But really, it was probably because now that your sister is in university, when you stay here they get the house to themselves.

Not to be rude, but a six foot eight werewolf is a little more likely to hurt me than your parents, which is the only reason I'm listening to Sam. Though your mother does frighten me more.

The third rule was easy; think of your needs first and mine second. I thought that was a given, but he felt it was necessary to add in. It was probably just an over-protective uncle thing.

I didn't tell you this, but Jake, my alpha, the supposed-leader and responsible one, gave me some advice that I will not write because it makes me sick to think about. Let's just say he's not putting any orders down to keep my paws off you.

August 13th

Another beautiful day in La Push. Not because of the weather; in fact, a storm appears to be on its way. It's beautiful because we spent the day at your house, not doing much of anything. You laid next to me on the couch and painted the impending storm clouds making their way over from the horizon.

I always seem to forget just how cute you are when you're painting, and each time it fascinates me. A little wrinkle of frustration becomes visible in between your eyebrows, you bite the inside of your lip, and when you need a break, you start twirling your hair around your fingers. That's when I suggest we make Taquitos or Pogo Sticks or Pizza Pops, and you always tell me no, but then I start cooking it and you make your way into the kitchen and we eat lunch together.

Food tastes better when I'm with you. Actually, pretty much everything is always better.

It began to drizzle, and you told me I should go home before it began really raining and I had to drive home in a downpour. I told you not to worry, I ran there, but it reminded me that since you were sixteen...

I'm going to teach you how to drive tomorrow, Claire! Surprise, surprise!

August 14th

It almost seemed as though you knew I was coming, because not only were you awake before noon, you were showered and ready to face the day. How odd.

Driving was... interesting. Lots of lurching and speeding. I will admit that I, Quil Ateara, screamed like a little girl today. Even though I'll face a deadly vampire head on, a little sixteen year old girl's driving style is enough to make me flinch and cover my eyes.

I just decided to jot this down before I have to head out for patrol, but you told me you'll come over to my house after.

August 15th

We broke Rule Number Two- no sleepovers- after two days. But it's not my fault, really!

Last night, the storm finally hit. We were just watching some random sitcom when a light flashed, the power went out, and a second later a loud boom echoed through my little house.

It's a well-known rule in La Push that no one was allowed to go outdoors during a lightning storm, because of all the huge trees, so we had no choice... unless Sam wanted you to risk your life just to make sure we didn't do anything risky.

Your parents sure didn't mind.

Unfortunately, we both fell asleep in my bed. And when I woke up, you were draped over me, my shirt was off (it got too hot, okay?) and Emily was standing at the foot of my bed, gaping like a fish.

"Uhh..." she stammered, "I, uh, just wanted to see... you weren't answering your... uh, glad to see you two finally made up." She's on her way back home to tattle on me, and you're in the shower.

I have prayed to every God that I will live to see the end of the day.

August 16th

Uh... I think I'm grounded.

I haven't been grounded in about fifteen years. It's strange to be under house arrest again.

Basically, I'm not supposed to be doing much unless I'm going patrolling or you are in absolute mortal danger.

Oh. You're wondering how I got grounded? Don't worry. Emily never ended up telling Sam.

Nope, she called my mother instead.

Who promptly made her way over to La Push, barged into my house, and gave me an earful on 'maturity' and 'responsibility' and 'after being on this earth for thirty years I should probably stop acting like a hormone-driven dog'. And she's staying here until further notice.

Ah, joy to the world.

August 20th

Finally, further notice has arrived!

We can go do something with the last few weeks of summer!

August 21st

While I've been on lockdown, apparently you've been busy!

It not like I'd forgotten that you had friends other than me and you were just going to sit by yourself all day till I was free; I've just never heard so many stories about them. Winry's dating so and so, Elisha wants to date so and so, the three of you set up a plan to ambush Ruby McPherson during her Sweet Sixteen party, you already went back to school shopping in Olympia with them, and you've been going out to parties.

Just the kind of stuff a normal 16 year old girl should be doing.

Uh...

August 22nd

It definitely wasn't my mother's intent to make me decide I was no good for you anymore. She told me staying away from you was supposed to be my punishment and not yours. I explained to her what you've been up to while I was 'hanging out with my mom' (being held hostage), and she said you were just killing time until I was back. I highly doubt that.

My job is to make your life the best it can be, Claire. If that means making myself a little more distant for a year or two while you enjoy being a teenager, that's fine by me. More than fine. It's what I want.

.

The date today was August 29th.

I hadn't seen Quil in an entire week. When I read that last entry seven days ago, I was sure he had been bluffing. You know, just letting out some thoughts into his journal. I had no idea he was serious.

I figured, you know, I'd let him come to me. Just like his mother said, I had just been killing time while he was 'grounded'- I could do it for another week. Right?

Wrong.

He hadn't even been writing since he'd made his little 'decision'- I hadn't been checking daily, but I came to take a look tonight and that was still the last entry. No matter what I did, I couldn't find a way to keep myself close to him. And now I was here, standing in his tiny living room, clenching my fists in fury. Imprinting. I thought it meant he would be tied to me forever- or was that a lie, too? Was all this just a huge joke? I didn't know if I was wanted to love him, hate him, be with him, or push him off the closest building possible.

I grabbed the recently ignored journal furiously, slammed it down on the floor as hard as I could, and stormed out into the woods where I knew he was patrolling.

If he wouldn't come to me...

Well, then I would go to him.