Hello Team Tucker Fans. I want to apologize for the long wait. School comes first but I feel bad for not posting this chapter earlier. I'll be able to post more during Christmas break, so bear with me. Thanks for reading and I hope you really enjoy this chapter. :D

Three days have passed since I last saw her. Since I had kissed her. I haven't called and neither has she. I trust her with my life but I'm not sure if anything I know about her is real. What if it was all a lie? No. I refuse to believe that. I won't let myself.

Every moment away from her is agonizing, like my heart is clawing itself inside out. She's all I've ever think about now. I remember the smell of her hair and how soft her lips were on mine before she started glowing. I remember the laughs we shared over the summer and the secret glances I would steal of her when she wasn't looking. I love her. I love Clara Gardner with all my heart.

I woke up with another blank expression. I pretend to act like myself but all I feel is hollow. That's understandable, isn't it? It's not every lifetime you discover that the girl you would die for is a supernatural being.

My mind tells me to dress, eat the toast, and get the day going. I feel nothing.

I head over to the Crazy River Rafting Company and get the work. I always loved the outdoors so the river brings a slight smile to my lips. I enjoy working with the Crazy River Rafting Company.

I see her hair blowing around. We bump into a rock and water splashes everywhere. She laughs out loud when one of the tourists gives a startled yelp. I give a chuckle and catch her eye. She smiles at me and I can't help but smile back.

No, now isn't the time to think about her. I put on a bright smile. Let's get this day over with.

The waters were especially harsh today. My raft overturned but it was nothing serious. The tourists seemed excited about it actually. Luckily Murphy had a set of spare clothing.

"Hey, Tuck," Murphy yells from his truck as I drag my raft out of the water. "Need a lift?"

"Sure," I call back. In minutes we have the rafts loaded in the open trailer attached to the truck. Murphy's a great guy. He fills the ride with cheesy jokes and laughter. The distraction is welcoming.

I didn't see her right away when I arrived to the main building. I was telling Murphy about the prank the seniors pulled my freshman year. They had taken all the desks and chairs out of the school and placed them behind the building in a stack of firewood that the seniors threatened to burn if anyone took a chair from the pile. Murphy laughs and we hop out and start unfastening the rafts.

"Tuck," Murphy says slowly. "I think this girl's here for you."

I freeze. Why is she here? She misses you. She cares about you, too. My emotions are a jumbled mess of surprise, longing, panic, and anger. I want to take her in my arms and kiss her breathless but another part of me wants to confront her and demand the truth. I settle on anger. After all the time we spent together, she wasn't honest with me. I see her cringe a little under my glare and it takes all my power not to falter from the pang of regret I feel.

"You need a minute?" Murphy asks. I almost forgot he was there.

"No," I say in a voice that even I wouldn't be able to recognize. "Let's get this done." I know what I'm doing. I'm stalling for time. Do I really want to hear the truth? Secrets are hidden for reasons.

I can feel her eyes on my back as Murphy and I make sure everything is organized. When we lock the garage, Murphy hurries over to his truck.

"See ya," he says and jumps into Jeep to get out of here as quickly as possible. I don't blame him.

I finally turn to face Carrots. I lock eyes with her and my heart stops. She's so beautiful. Her golden hair blowing in the light breeze glitters and she's biting her lip, a habit she has when she's nervous. Her eyes look slightly watery and I have the urge to walk up to her and gather in my arms, reassuring her that everything was alright. But I don't.

I sigh. "What do you want, Clara?" I ask. I mentally flinch at how harsh I sound. She looks down at her folded hands before answering.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," she says with a slight quiver in her voice. "You don't know how much I wanted to tell you the truth."

"So why didn't you?" I ask.

"Because it's against the rules," Clara mutters.

"What rules? What truth?"

"I'll tell you everything now, if you'll hear me out," she says, almost pleading.

"Why?" I ask sharply. I don't understand anything and it's frustrating. "Why would you tell me now, if it's against the rules?"

"Because I love you," she answers and she looks back at me. I suck in a breathe. She loves me. She never said so, but here she is now telling me straight in the eye that she loves me. I swallow suddenly nervous. Now that I know this, will it make the truth harder to hear? I see her eyes flash a look of pain but it quickly disappears.

"Can we go somewhere?" she asks, shuffling on her feet. "Let's go somewhere off in the woods, and I'll show you."

I hesitate. That doesn't sound suspicious at all.

"I won't hurt you," she tells me. I'm angry at myself for even doubting her for a second.

"Okay," I say, my jaw still tense. "But I drive."

"Of course," she says and we head off.

I drive for about an hour to Idaho into the mountains above Palisades Reservoir. To the place that I come out to think and clear my head. The ride wasn't the most comfortable. The tension between Carrots and I was almost tangible. I'm surprised neither of us has spontaneously combusted yet. We were also both trying to look at each other without getting caught looking at each other which would've been funny before but now not so much.

I turn down a dirt road that's marked as a private property and head past the log cabins up to the mountainside until we come to a big wire fence. I fumble with my keys as I realize in moments I will finally get the truth. I'm not sure what I think about it now.

I unlock the rusty padlock that holds the gates together, jump back into Bluebell and drive through until I reach a broad, empty clearing and put the truck into park. I finally look at her.

"Where are we?" she asks, being the first to speak since we were at the rafting building.

"My land," I answer.

"Yours?"

I shrug. "My grandpa was going to build a cabin here but then he got cancer. He left the land to me. It's about eight acres. It's where I'd come if I ever had to bury a dead body or something." I don't why I add the last part. Maybe I wanted to liven the mood or I'm used to having light conversations with her. Either way, it doesn't loosen anything.

"So tell me," I say in order to avoid another awkward silence.

She takes a deep breathe and looks at her hands once again. "I don't even known where to start."

"How you start with the part about you being some kind of supernatural being made of light," I say. That would be very nice to know.

Her breathe catches and I'm met with her gray-blue eyes once again.

"You think I'm made of light?" she asks.

"That's what I saw," I say. I try to swallow the bitter taste of fear the comes up when I think of her bathed in the ethereal light the night of my birthday. She looks away and shifts slightly to put more space between us. Still need to work on that poker face...

"I don't think I'm made of light," she says. "What you saw was glory. It's kind of hard to explain, but it's a way of communicating, being connected to each other."

"Communicating," I repeat. "You were trying to communicate with me?"

"Not intentionally," she responds, blushing. "I didn't mean for it to happen. I'd never done it before, actually. Mom said that sometimes strong emotions can trigger it." Strong emotions like love. She blushes even more.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't mean to freak you out. Glory tends to have that effect on humans."

"And you're not human," I say flatly, mostly for myself as I process all of it.

"I'm mostly human," she says.

I lean back in my seat and sigh in frustration. What if these are another series of lies? There's no way she's supernatural. But you say her glowing with your own eyes.

"Is this a joke, Clara? Is this some kind of trick?"

"I'm Nephilim," she babbles, her eyes are still downcast. "We don't usually use that term, because it means 'fallen' in Hebrew and we don't like to think of ourselves as fallen, you know, but that's we're called in the Bible. We prefer the term angel-blood."

"Angel-blood," I repeat again.

"My mom is half angel. Her father was an angel and her mother was human. And that makes me a quarter angel, since my dad's an average Joe," she explains, tumbling out fast so she doesn't have room to change her mind. I stare at her in disbelief.

"So you're part angel," I say. It makes sense. She's perfect and graceful in a way that's beyond human. But I'm still not fully convinced. How is it possible for supernaturals to exist?

"Yes," she says. "Let's get out of the truck."

My eyes widen and my palms get sweaty. "Why?"

"Because you won't believe me until I show you."

"What does that mean?" I ask, fear laced in the question and I feel slightly light-headed. "You'll do that light thing again?"

"No. I won't do that again," she tells me and my shoulders sag slightly in relief. She puts her hand lightly on my arm and I feel sparks from her touch. Not the best time. I get out of the truck quickly and she does the same.

"Now, don't be afraid," she tells me.

"Right," I say, slightly nervously. "Because you're not going to show me that you're an angel."

"Part angel," she corrects. At that she closes her eyes and white sudden appears behind her back. She opens her eyes and I see more clearly that they're wings.

"Holy crap," I say and take a step back.

"I know," she says with a half smile.

"This isn't a joke. This isn't some head game or magic trick" I say breathlessly. "You really have wings."

"Yeah," she says and walks toward me slowly. I'm not sure if I want to stay or run. She turns her back toward me so I can see her wings better. They're beautiful. As white as fresh fallen snow in Jackson Hole's winter and they look as smooth as velvet. Mesmerized, I lift my hand up to touch them but immediately pull back, not sure if I should.

"Can you fly?" I ask, but my voice comes out strangled.

"Yes," she says and my eyes widen again. "But I'm mostly a normal girl." She turns back to look at me and my heart wretches at the sad look in her eyes.

"And what else?" I ask. "What else can you do?"

"Not much, really. I'm only a quarter angel. I don't even know all that the half angels can do," she responds as calmly as possible. "I can speak any language. I guess that comes in handy for angels when they're delivering messages."

"That's how you understood the Korean lady at Canyon," I say, connecting more unexplained experiences. "And how you talked to the grizzly bear?"

"Yes," she says and glances back down at her feet, unable to take my intense gaze.

"I'm sorry," she eventually chokes out. Her shoulders are shaking and tears come. My heart breaks into millions of pieces. No, don't cry. It's alright, Clara. I still love you.

"Don't cry," I say. "That's not fair." She laughs and sobs at the same time. I walk up to her. I can't take the distance between us any longer.

"It's okay," I whisper. I lift her chin up and see the pools of streaming from her crystal eyes and brush her gently brush her tears away with my callused fingertips. "Don't cry."

I hug her, wings and all. How could I have ever thought that the truth could possibly make me not love her anymore? I want to be near her, human or not. She's still the same Clara that I met in January, the same girl that sat in my British History class, the same girl I spent the best weeks of summer with. I couldn't ask for anyone more perfect and beautiful to be with. Our eyes meet once again and I'm kissing her. I taste her salty tears of her lips.

I pull back suddenly as a thought comes.

"Okay wait," I say. She blinks as if she were in a days and puts on a guarded and worried expression. Did she think that I was changing my mind about us two? Not a chance, Clara.

"Is it okay to kiss you?" I ask.

"What?" she asks, drawing her eyebrows together in confusion, making me want to kiss the crease away.

"I won't get struck by lightning?" I clarify. She laughs and then leans in to brush her lips against my own. My hands tighten on her waist.

"No lightning," she says and I feel her smile on my own. She traces my dimple and I lift a strand of her now golden hair.

"Not red," she says with a shrug.

"I always felt like there was something off about your hair," I say.

"So you thought you'd torture me by calling me Carrots?" she asks, smirking just slightly.

"I still thought I'd never seen anyone as beautiful as you," I tell her. I drop my head and rub the back of my neck. Wow, that away a really cheesy thing to say. My cheeks feel warm from embarrassment.

"You're a real Romeo," she says, but I can see she's blushing too. I put my arms around her again and run my hands over her white velvet wings. They're as soft as they look and cool to the touch. She leans into me and presses her cheek to my shoulder as I stroke her wings.

"So you're an angel, that's all," I murmur. She kissed my should.

"Part angel," she murmurs back.

"Say something in the angel language," I say. She looks back up at me.

"What should I say?"

"Something simple," I tell her. "Something true."

Her whispers sound like the caress of the summer wind the light that makes the night sky bright. The purest form of music and somehow I knew what she said. My arms tighten around me as she gazes up into my face.

"What did you say?" I ask, but I know my faces tells her I heard her.

"Oh, you know," she says with cheeky grin. "I just kinda like you."

"Huh," I say with a wide smile of my own. I kiss the corner of her mouth and push a strand of her hair away from her face. "I really, really like you, too." The biggest understatement of the generation.