"Hey! The pudding needs to be refrigerated," I say as Emily takes the bowl out of my hands. My father and I take off our jackets and put them in the already overflowing closet next to the front door.
The furniture in the living room had been moved aside to fit two tables of ten, in a space that should only fit one. Claire and her mother, are fussing in the kitchen over serving bowls, as everyone tries to manage to find a seat, either at one of the two tables in the living room or the kitchen table. My father is quickly swept away to sit with the grouping of adults in the kitchen. The original pack sit with their imprinted significant others completely filling, all but two chairs at the large tables in the living room. Great. Claire already repeals the supernatural idea of imprinting and now the only two open seats are at the table of people who are madly in love with each other.
Everyone takes their seats, while Emily places the last few bowls of food on the tables. Still standing in the entryway, I move towards an empty chair, greeting Paul and Embry along the way.
"No date Embry?" I mock. He's never been anywhere without a girl on his arm.
He laughs with a little bit of resentment, "Emily said we couldn't fit one more person in here. Obviously she's right." He glances around the room and places his palms upward presenting the obviously over crowded house. I chuckle along with him.
As I turn back to walk towards the empty chair that I had my eye on when Claire slides straight into it and then turns to Embry. "Embry? Do you mind scooting over one so that Quil and I can sit next to each other?"
Embry's face looks completely shocked, and he turns back to stare at me while he slides into the next chair, leaving the one next to Claire unoccupied. She pats the chair next to her, signaling me to take the seat and smiles. My heart jumps. That smile is intoxicating and immediately I can tell I have a goofy love stuck face. She giggles at that.
Like a puppy, I quickly take the seat and control whatever look I had on my face by staring across the table at Seth. He presses his lips together suppressing laughter and then gives me a reassuring smile. I wonder if this is Claire's charade to make everything look all right between her and I. She does have that boyfriend. The problem is everyone knows he exists. Facebook doesn't allow any relationship status to go unknown to all.
Throughout dinner Claire talks to everyone about how school is and what she is interested in. And once in a while her shoulder will brush mine, or her hand will lightly touch mine as we reach for the potatoes or corn, and she'd glance at me like she was longing to say something but couldn't. But it could just be my hopeful imagination, or the possible show she's putting on. The apprehension and the hope, so conflicting, start to cause physical pain in my chest, and at the very end of dinner I excuse myself quickly and walk out the front door.
It's snowing but it's not cold to me. I walk towards the woods, and realize that I'm shaking, my body preparing to phase, but I'm holding it back. I have to keep it together. I don't want to go all the way home and have to grab another set of clothes. Then everyone would know, well to pack would know, what happened when I left out the door and wonder why I was so upset. On the outside at dinner, I'm sure the Claire situation seemed light and hopeful. She was being nice, so why should I be so upset? Because it's probably all a rouse. Because she's acting nice to my face, but the fact that she has a boyfriend says a different thing.
Sitting down on a fallen tree I bury my head in my hands, focusing on breathing in and out. I must not have been paying attention because the next thing I know I hear a bark. Mark is sitting in front of me, in wolf form, with, as far as I can tell, a concerned look on his face.
"Claire," I say ad he seems to nod his head in understanding and tilts his head inclining me to continue. "She's being nice," I chuckle in how stupid it sounds and then exhale before continuing. "I can't tell what it means though. She could just be trying to be my friend, which I don't know if I can handle. I love her. I can't be a friend, a good friend at least, when I love her in that way.
"Or she could be changing her mind? And if it's that I really want to know. But I can't ask her that," I exhale. I shouldn't have said that all out loud, but I figure any member of the pack would have heard it if I was thinking about it anytime I was in form with them. It's weird that over the years I've learned to blurt things out verbally because I know the pack would eventually hear it. I'm used to having no secrets.
Mark bows his hear in a sign of understanding and then turns back in the forest to leave me alone.
"Is that really it?"
I straighten up and look around for the source of the voice but I already know it's Claire. She's standing directly behind me, arms wrapped around her chest, huddling away from the cold. She has no jacket over her thin, light green, long sleeved shirt. The snow lightly collects on her shoulders, and I can tell she's shivering. I stand up quickly, feeling slightly invaded. She had heard everything I said to Mark.
"You can't be my friend?"
Her accusation is true, to a point.
"Emily said you could be my friend, that you would be what ever I needed you to be. She was wrong. You only want me one way don't you?"
It takes all my will power not to run over and shield her from the cold, wrap my arms around her and protect her. But I feel that if I did, she'd probably push me away. She stands there with a hurt look of accusation and betrayal.
"Damn it! Say something Quil!"
I close my eyes and press my eyebrows together. "Claire, I didn't mean for you to hear that. I-ugh-I just am having trouble seeing you, knowing that you won't, you refuse to be with me, but then send mixed signals."
"Mixed signals! I was trying to be friendly. I was trying to not make everything awkward. I was trying to make everything all right. Everyone says you've been a mess. I've been trying so hard to get you to be normal to people," she says her voice elevating in volume every sentence she speaks.
I give in and cross the six feet between us and wrap my warm arms around her and let the snow turn to rain as it hits our bodies. She doesn't resist my warmth or my actions, she actually leans into me, burying her head in my chest. She's shaking, but I realize it's not from the cold. She's crying. I find it all right if I let my hand stroke her wet hair, comforting her.
After a few minutes she breathes, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" I ask confused.
With her cheek still pressed against my chest, her hands clinging to my shit, she explains. "That day. It hurt me too. I never wanted to be tied down to boyfriends in high school, but I thought in college it would be okay, but you weren't coming with me. And I," she pauses to breathe deeply, "I couldn't handle the fact that you're unable to love anyone else and the werewolf thing freaked me out.
"Quil, it hurts me to hurt you."
Slowly my brain tries to input all this information she has given me, but I can only think about that last statement. "Then don't," I say finally, hugging her closer to my body.
We're silent for what seems like an eternity. The snow falls heavier now, but I'm not cold and I can't guess that she is either. She scoots her legs in between mine so that the wind and the snow don't freeze them. We're both soaked though but I don't mind. I could stay forever just holding her here, but I still don't know exactly what she's thinking about us, and that makes the moment sour.
"You didn't faint when you saw me talking to Mark. You were okay with his form," I say in realization after replaying what she heard in my head. She had seen me talking to Mark. She didn't faint like before. She didn't run or scream. Why? Was she over the werewolf thing? It doesn't seem like it from her words.
"I don't know," she finally breathes. "I guess I was so focused on you that I didn't think much about Mark."
"Claire?"
"Yes?"
"What are you thinking?" I ask. Her contemplative silence has lasted too long, and the longer she is silent, the more apprehension I have about any progress we've made tonight. And as much as I think her statements are a sporadic, jumbled mess, I know that's where my thoughs are as well.
"I'm thinking we should go inside before we get sick."
"You though about that for this long?" I ask surprised at her answer. I look down at her and see her biting her lip, probably holding back what she was really thinking.
She sighs pushing slightly away from me so that she can look at my face when she speaks to me probably. "I was thinking about how I hurt people when I try to make everything all right, when I try to make everyone happy. Like Bella. But everything worked out for her in the end. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore."
"I don't understand," I say confusion melting through my voice, in reference to her last statement. She pushes completely away from me but, takes my hand and leans into me away from the cold snow.
"You will," she says dryly and lets go of my hand and runs towards the house. I stand right where she left me, sopping wet. Can she leave me any more confused? She always answers one question but leaves me with another.
I make my way back into the house, quickly so it doesn't look like there was a scene between Claire and I. Inside Emily and Claire's mom hand me towels to dry off with and they're fussing over getting Claire a spare pair of Emily's clothes so that they can dry hers. Sam hands me a set of sweat pants and an old t-shirt and I head to the bathroom to change. When I come out Emily takes my clothes and quickly runs to put them in the dryer.
The adults have all dawned coats and have bags of left over food to take down to the homeless shelter. As they do every year they take the food and work for a few hours and then come back home for a bit of dessert. Within minutes of my arrival back through the door, everyone has left except Mark, in from his shift traded with Leah, Embry, Paul, Rachel, and Jared and Kim who are putting Laker and Trip down for bed. Claire has excused herself to the small office off the hall to make a phone call when finally someone speaks to me.
"So what the hell is going on between you and Claire?" Paul asks sitting down on the couch next to me to watch Embry collapse the two tables in the living room by himself. Mark takes a seat on the floor with a plate of food in his lap and is quiet. I know he wont say anything about what happened in the woods
I turn to him giving him a look that says, what the hell do you think?
"So you have no idea either? Good. Because she's in the office talking to Summer about how she's confused and doesn't know what to do about you and Nick."
"Paul, don't get my hopes up," I say annoyed a little. He's making the situation worse. "Besides how do you know that?"
"I was kinda eavesdropping as I walked back from the bathroom. Well not too much she was kinda saying it pretty loud," he chuckles slightly.
I sigh roughly, annoyed. "Why is everyone eavesdropping these days? Can't anyone get any privacy?"
"Hey man, you get privacy when you stop having everyone in your head. That's the beauty of it. I stopped phasing and I could have secrets again, but that also meant that I couldn't know everyone else's," Paul explains shrugging and leaning back into the couch putting his hands behind his head, and relaxing.
His behavior bothers me, but I know it's because I'm just jealous. For him and everyone else who had imprinted it was so easy. They didn't have to hear the pedophile comments, or get the weird stares. Sam was the only one who had to hurt someone else, and Leah's over that by now. They can al relax because everything has worked out perfect for their relationships, they don't have to struggle to get the girl to like them. Even Jacob had it easy because Nessie loved him from the moment she saw him too. Why can't Claire just give in? Why should I have to try so hard? I know the answer to that…because I want to.
I'm also frustrated and confused by what "you will" means. It seems like her mind is made up from that statement, but then again she's in the other room talking to Summer about it. If she has made up her mind, I wish she would tell me…but then again I don't really want to know her decision.
Still reclined Paul opens his mouth again, "You know, you've adapted one of Claire's classic characteristics. You're quiet and you think too much now. You didn't used to do that."
Great. He's right. I hate that Claire thinks too much. And now I do that to her too.
"Hey guys," Claire says stepping around the corner. She's wearing one of Emily's big t-shirts and old sweat pants. Her appearance has made Paul give me a look that I don't really understand. "I'm going to head out. Summer and I are doing the day after Thanksgiving madness at the mall, and we have to get in line. So I'm heading back and getting my stuff.
"It was nice to see all of you again," she says smiling.
"Do you need a ride?" I ask jumping to my feet as she slips her arms into her coat.
She smiles weakly, "No, Summer's coming to pick me up." She leans around me and waves to everyone one final time. A car horn honks; Summer obviously has no wish to see Embry. And then Claire's out the door.
Somehow tonight did not end up the way I had wanted it to. Actually I don't know what I wanted to happen tonight. All I know is that I still love Claire.
A/N:
ugh. I rewrote this twice. I promise the next chapter will be much better and will actually more the story forward. -c.c