Once again, I am soooo sorry for my poor updating skills. It's just school is very stressful and I had like five projects/essays to finish and I just had no time to write. But on the bright side, this chapter is very much Eclare! And writing this chapter, I fell in love with Eli all over again. I really love him in this scene. And Clare's dad is in it, but not quite as you would think.

Okay, who saw the promo for next week? And who almost died when Clare goes, "I'm losing everything I love!" And Eli says, "Not me." I'm just like, that's the sweetest thing I've ever heard in my entire life! But I can't believe she says "I want to spend the night with you." Eli's face is priceless. And Fadam? I think they could work. Fiona is pretty screwed up, so she shouldn't judge Adam. But if they do get together in the show...that must be one awkward kissing scene...

My stomach clenches the second I hear the front door rattle open. My pen slips between my fingers and hits the ground with a thud. I wait, I wait and wait for the moment I look into his eyes and know if I'm going to be spending the night in a shaky sleep, or wiping blood off the floor.

The clock ticks, synchronizing its rhythm with the beating of my heart, and a moment that goes by this slowly never moved so fast.

"Clare," I hear him say, and he comes into my view. He's holding his briefcase on his left side, which is good. His shoes are already off. Good. The look in his eyes, one of unconditional love and devotion makes me forget, just for a moment, what I'm resisting in the first place. Good. I'm just thankful everything is actually going good.

Bad.

"Hey sweetie," he strides on over to me, placing his briefcase against the counter- the counter he slammed me into- and kisses my forehead. His tie brushes across my face, along with his breath, which contains the scents of mint and leather. "I ordered pizza on the way home. It should be here in about ten minutes. I'm going to head upstairs and take a quick shower, okay?"

I nod my head, bending down to pick up my pen. I almost hallucinate a black leather arm swooping down in front of mine, and when I reach my head up the air feels cool without his warm breath.

The running of warm water roaming along the pipes in my house begins the second I finish my history homework. Grabbing my "To Do" list, I cross the phrase out and notice a group of sloppily written words hiding underneath.

begin writing again

I used to write all the time. There was this journal I would carry around school. It was dark night blue with yellow stars painted all over it. Words covered almost every page of that little notebook, some of them making sense, others nothing but a clutter of emotions I couldn't stand to hold inside myself anymore. It wasn't a novel, or fanfictions, or even useful information I could use later on in my life. It was just me, and my life and my secrets, devouring the paper until it weighed a thousand pounds.

Throwing away that notebook felt like shooting someone I love. It took all the will power, all the dread and fear inside me to release it into the garbage can. Maybe I should have kept it, since it was really the only thing in this screwed up world that kept me sane, but the fear of someone opening it and staring my soul in the face was so fierce it forced me to give up my everything.

A knock at the door awakens me from whatever it was I was just in. The pizza guy is a pimple faced college student who spelt like grease and smoke, and I feel so bad for the poor kid I give him double tip.

I carry the pizza inside, balancing the cardboard box in my palm like it's worth a billion dollars. The water has shut off and I can hear my dad pacing around his room above me.

He comes downstairs a few minutes later, his dirty blonde hair looking brown from being wet. He places himself in the chair beside me, ripping off a piece of pizza from the pie and blowing on it before putting it in his mouth.

I try to eat it. I really do. I stick the food into my mouth, and I chew, crushing the crust and cheese and sauce between my teeth. But every now and then, when I get to the most complicated stage of swallowing, something closes up inside of me, and the food is left to rest inside my lungs. I'm waiting for the moment I begin to choke, and maybe a small part of me is hoping, but every time I open my mouth to suck in a breath, oxygen races down my throat and swerves around the food, crushing through the barrier for one, unwanted moment.

My dad wipes pizza sauce off his chin with a napkin. He places it on his lap and looks at me, "How was school?"

I rip a piece of cheese hanging by a thread off of my pizza and put it on the opposite side of the plate. "School was fine," I say. "I finally got that history report finished."

"Do you think you did well?"

Of course. Of course I do. No, I'm not lying. I always do well in school. I'm just perfect. But don't be proud of me, dad. Don't think I'm super smart or an over achiever or anything like that. Don't you dare shove that crap into your head. People who are perfect don't have to try to be perfect. I work my butt off everyday just to please you. I hold so much weight on my shoulders sometimes I think I might break just so you won't throw me into my nightstand again.

"Yes."

"Well good, then," he slides his chair out and stands up, readjusting his hair so it lays behind his forehead. When he rests his hand on my shoulder I stop breathing, and I don't even attempt to try to breath because I know the task will be impossible. Anxiety is creeping up my spine and I use all my force to defend against it.

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart," he tells me, and for one quick second I actually believe him, actually let my guard down and allow myself to feel accepted. But then reality shows up in my view and the wall is back.

He lets go of me and I feel as though I've woken up from a nightmare. There's sweat underneath my knees and on the back of my neck. Sweats easy to deal with, though. You wipe it away and it's gone. It's the reason for it that's so terrifying.

I grab plastic wrap from the drawer and begin tossing the left over pizza in it. At the same time my dad is standing next to me, his shoulder touching mine as we washes our plates. It should feel natural doing this, working together to reach a common goal, even if that goal may be small, but something so normal keeps my heart thudding against my chest so much it actually hurts.

He tells me he's going to go upstairs and read for a while and that I should finish whatever homework isn't done. I tell him all my homework is finished and he rolls his eyes, saying attitude is never necessary.

He dries off the dishes.

I stick the last of the pizza in the fridge.

He throws out the box.

I lean against the counter.

He gives me a smile and jogs upstairs.

I breathe.

I wake up the next morning to the sound of my phone ringing. When I look at the caller ID and see Alli's name plastered on the screen, I almost don't answer. Her perkiness is way too much for me to handle at- I look at the clock- 11:45 in the morning.

"Hello?" My voice is groggily. The world is still a vision coming into complete view and I can't contemplate everything all at once.

"Wakey, wakey, sleepy head. I've tried calling you like twenty times. I almost thought you were dead."

"Well I'm alive," I say, "What do you want?"

"Wow, someone's not a morning person.

I roll my eyes and make my bed while clutching my phone between my ear and shoulder. They make it look so easy on TV, but there is about five times where I must frantically save my phone from a disastrous fall of shoulder to floor.

Alli and I agree to meet at The Dot for a brunch in twenty minutes. I don't pay much attention to the clothes I'm wearing. All I know is that they cover up the skin that needs to be covered and none of my bruises are showing.

When I arrive at The Dot Alli isn't there yet. She texts me saying that her parents need help with something so she'll be a few minutes late. I tell her it's fine, the usual procedure whenever she shows up late for anything

I sit down at a table in the corner and watch people pass by until a waiter asks what I want to eat. I order the first thing on the menu- an egg, bacon, cheese croissant- and continue watching people as they travel along the street. So far the most interesting thing I've seen is two guys almost get into a full out fist fight, and a little boy being screamed at by his mother for running in the middle of the street.

Someone sits down next to me, and when I turn around I expect to see Alli. But I'm faced with olive eyes and an annoying smirk.

"Waiting for a hot date?"

I roll my eyes. "Don't you have something better to do than follow me around?"

Eli twirls a skull ring on his finger, and it takes me a minute to realize I'm mimicking him with my purity ring. I quickly pull my hand away.

"Not really," he laughs when some guy trips on his own feet and almost falls while trying to impress a cute girl. "But just for record, I'm not following you."

"Oh really," I raise my eyebrows at him, "Then why do you always show up wherever I am?"

He mocks me by raising his eyebrows as well, only the way he does it is much more impressive. "Small town."

"Oh?"

"Yep," he leans in closer, so his dark hair is fanning over my face. His breath is hot and moist and makes my skin feel like fire. "Or maybe it's just fate."

I try my best to conceal my nervousness by leaning away from him, but ultimately fail when I realize the rapid pace of my breathing.

We sit in silence, both our eyes ghosting over the restaurant and absorbing every face, every table, and every smell as though we had nothing left. I'm not sure why I don't tell him to leave, but I think it may be because I'm lonely and silent is sanctuary, especially when you're with someone else.

The waiter arrives with my food and places it on the table. The croissant is too thick for my liking, but I decide to keep my mouth shut and just give him a thankful smile. He glances over in Eli's direction, and he looks aggravated. I guess waiters don't like doing double takes.

"Can I get you anything?" Yep, he's definitely angry.

Eli smirks again. He doesn't stop looking at me until he's finished speaking. "I'll have the same thing she's having," he puts one of his fingers, the one with the shiny skull ring, up in the air so the tip of it is facing the ceiling, "But lay off the egg."

Our waiter is wearing the exact same expression Mrs. Dawes wore when Eli first arrived in English class. Anger, frustration, but most of all, bewilderment. The way Eli acts around people, it's as though he's the poster boy for the slogan "what you see is what you get".

When Tad- I finally figured out what the sloppy writing on his nametag was- walks away, I throw a baffled expression at Eli. "I never said you could stay."

He shrugs, making himself comfortable in the chair, "You never said I couldn't stay, either."

"Okay," I state, "You can't stay."

"Too late," he chuckles to himself and checks his watch, "Two minutes is the max amount of time you have to kick me out. Looks like you're half a minute over due. Poor you."

"Poor me," I agree, "But when Alli gets here, I want you out. Got it?"

His eyes fall to floor and he shakes his head with an emotion I can't quite read. "But what if my food isn't ready?"

"I'll tell them to deliver it to you."

I notice Alli standing on the side of the road, staring down at her phone and texting intently.

"I see Alli," I take my finger and point to the door, "Looks like it's time for you to go."

"Damn," he mumbles, and I almost think he means it. He grabs his wallet and pulls out a couple of dollars.

"Seven dollars for the food," he puts down two bills, "One for tip," and another, "And this," he holds a quarter up and grabs my hand, placing it in my palm, "Is for your lovely company," he closes my fingers around the quarter and stands up to leave.

I bite my lip to suppress a smile. It's nearly impossible, so I decide to mask it with words, "Twenty-five cents? That's all I'm worth?"

He smiles. It's that real smile that I rarely ever see. "I would have given you more," he shoves his hands in his pockets, "But that's all I had left."

He leaves the moment Alli enters. She turns back to look at him a second time with wide eyes. And when she strides over to me, and notices all the money and a cheesy grin played on my face, she grows curious.

"What did I miss?" She asks, whipping her head back and fourth a few times from me to the door where Eli just was.

I place my hand in my lap, clutching the quarter for dear life. "Nothing," I say, still holding my smile, "Nothing at all."

You know the drill. Review. Tell me what you think. Your thoughts on Eli? Don't worry, it will be sad. Right now is kind of a happy phase, because honestly, poor Clare is just being bashed on on the show! I mean my god, how much torture can they put one character through on the show? I just want to give that adorable little girl a hug =) And I also just want to give that sexy bad boy a kiss ;)