A/N: okay let's just recap on how amazing I am. Two chapters in two days...and this one's extra long too!
Read, enjoy, leave love...because I'm on a roll.
inspiration has been very good lately ;]
"Quil!" Emily calls from the kitchen. I turn away and walk into the kitchen to see what she wants. "I hope you don't mind, but I invited a few extra guests for a welcome home party."
And then from behind Emily, I hear her voice. "Hey mom? Where did you set the pasta salad?"
She's standing at the counter facing away from me, talking to her mom who's in the dining room setting the table. Her black hair is back in that sporty pony tail, but it's cut really short. I'm guessing when it's down her hair just reaches her shoulders. On her neck in directly below her pony is something new. A tattoo? Four symbols of the changing moon.
"Claire?" I ask dumbfounded.
***
She turns towards the sound of my voice. When I see her face, I actually realize how much she's grown up during the last four years. All her resemblance of a child has gone in the past few years. She's still thin, wearing a red tank top that hugs to her body and jean shorts that could almost be considered underwear. Her skin is so much darker than I remember. Probably from the sun in L.A. Overall, she looks much more like a woman than she did before. And still just as heartbreakingly beautiful.
"Hey, Quil!" It's been so long!" she says and maneuvers through the small kitchen to give me a friendly hug. I love the way it feels when she touches me in any way. It seems as if imprinting is permanent, and is like a fine wine, getting better with age.
She pulls away and I manage to say, "It's good to see you, too."
"Quil," Sam calls from my front door.
Reluctantly I look over my shoulder towards him and he signals me outside, probably to help him with the grill. It's far too old and the only one who knows how to actually light it is me. I give Claire an apologetic smile and she grins back and then turns to help Emily with the food preparations.
Quickly I head outside to see Sam, shutting the front door behind me so that the cool air is kept inside. Out by the grill Sam stands trying to get the burners to light.
"Here," I say jiggling the switches a few times.
"Thanks," Sam says confidently. "Quil, I called you out here for more than you to simply light the grill. Did you see the guy on the couch next to Summer?"
"Briefly," I respond trying to remember him. "Emily called me into the kitchen before I could actually talk to him."
Sam folds his arms across his chest and exhales audibly. "Do you know who that is?"
I shake my head.
"Mind you Emily had no idea he would be coming when she invited Claire and her parents over tonight. She wanted it to be like a Welcome Back Home party for Claire. And Claire asked if she could bring two people, and of course Emily said yes. And we would have had it at our house but Emily had already promised that we'd be here for dinner and we didn't want to have you try to bring Melody all the way to our house, so we though it's be all right with you if we had the party here," he says obviously withholding something.
"Really, Sam I don't mind at all. I don't care if you guys invite people over here. In fact this is the most use I've actually gotten out of this house since it became mine," I say reassuringly, try ingot edge him on to get to the point because I know it's something other than apologizing for bringing people over to my house. I turn to the grill and take the hamburgers from the plate on the side panel of it and slowly place each piece of meat onto the flames.
"That guy," Sam pauses. "Quil, that guy is Nick."
I accidentally let my right hand slap down on the burning flame. "Shit!" I scream out of pain from the burn, and somewhat out of the fact that Claire's boyfriend is sitting on my couch. I clench the wrist of my right hand gasping at the sudden pain.
Sam waits patiently. We both know that this will heal almost instantly. The red has already turned pink, and now glossy scarred white. "You okay," he asks.
"Yeah, Perfect," I respond sarcastically. I'm pissed and shaking a little at the thought of Nick even being within a ten mile radius of me, let alone my house.
Sam puts his hand on my shoulder and advises, "Quil calm down. Remember phasing while you're that angry isn't safe."
I try to breathe in and out but I growl a little at Sam.
"Hey I didn't know he was coming back here with her. Emily and I didn't know he was here until they pulled up at your house," Sam says apologetically. "Listen, from the little interaction I've had with him, I'm not sure I like him. But Claire apparently does, so as long as he's not doing anything I can't obviously object to I can't say anything to her. And her parents seem to like him, so there's no point in starting a family fight."
"He's in my house," I growl at him. I shake both of my hands, the pain gone from the burned one now, and exhale trying to calm myself. I walk towards the side of the house, thankful that there are no windows on this specific wall of my house and put my arms straight out in front of me and lean up against it, annoyed and at a loss of what to do with myself.
Sam just nods and says, "I'm not sure Claire knew that we were coming here to your house tonight. I think she thought we were going to be at Emily's. And she didn't know that it's your house now." Sam pauses. "Quil, you didn't tell her that you father died?"
It's not really a question it's an accusation. I simply shake my head, still facing the wall.
"Quil, I'll never understand how or why you gave her space the past four years. You two seemed to be making progress at Thanksgiving that one year."
"She didn't want to change anything. It was all just a show," I say dryly. "She said that she didn't want to hurt me. I think she achieved that, or wanted to achieve that, by staying away."
I can hear Sam checking the burgers on the grill. I can tell in his momentary silence he's contemplating what advice to give me. I'm thankful that Sam's always tried to make the best out of this odd situation. I take a step towards the wall, concluding that my anger should be under control, and take the side of my left fist and punch the wall, releasing some form of my hostility.
"Fine," I say. "I have to go check on Melody."
I turn and walk inside, more out of hope to see Claire. Once inside I can see that Emily has Melody in her arms feeding her near the door where I've come in. Embry and Paul are playing rock band with the sound on mute, probably because Emily told them not to make Mel cry. Claire's parents are talking with Summer about her upcoming trip to Spain in the kitchen. Nick and Claire are sitting at the dining room table talking.
"Quil!" Claire calls. Although I like the fact that she's calling my name, I'm a little resentful. I'd like to snap this guys neck. I make my way over into the dining room, but no one else pays attention to her call or our exchange. They're all too busy within their own worlds.
"Quil, this is Nick," Claire says.
Nick reaches his hand out to shake mine and I make sure I give him a nice firm grip, not realizing how hot I must feel to him. He looks a little shocked as we shake hands but tried to act unimpressed. Obviously, Claire's informed him of who I am. "Nice to meet you," he says, trying to be nice; something Claire probably advised.
"So Claire tells me you teach at the school she's going to be teaching at this fall," he says trying to pick up a conversation.
"Yeah," I respond, taking a seat on the other side of the table. "I'm a math teacher. Mostly Calculus. What are you doing. I know you just graduated, got any offers yet?"
"Um, I'm actually just doing musical composition. I'm a composer, so I don't really have any offers because it's more of a develop yourself type industry. I want to write scores for movie etc. I'm from L.A., so my parents are in the industry and I think I'm going to work with my dad for a little while," he says.
"He plays the piano really well," Claire boasts for him, placing her hand gently on his shoulder.
"That's cool," I say. "I'm pretty good at guitar hero."
Claire laughs, "Oh you can't play as well as him."
"Really?" I counter.
"Wanna bet?" she asks leaning into the table.
"Paul! Embry! Your turn is over. I gotta kick some ass on that thing!" I yell into the living room.
Nick laughs and we all get up from the table and head into the living room. Nick leads the way and Claire follows but stops short and turns back to me. I stop, facing her, she checks behind her towards Nick who's already watching Paul and Embry, waiting for us to follow, and then turns back to me.
"I'm sorry," she says. "I thought we were going to Aunt Emily's. I would have never brought him here if I'd known."
"It's all right," I say even though it's a lie. Shrugging, brushing it off like nothing is the most I can come up with when I'm face to face with her. I know that if I actually expressed what I'd like to do to him, she would be unhappy and I didn't want that to be the case.
She looks down and shakes her head up and down a little and then returns her stare to mine. "Quil, why didn't you tell me your father was sick?"
Her eyes plea for a response, like she's sorry that she wasn't there for me. "I didn't want to bother you anymore," I say looking own at my feet, regretting my decision of not calling her.
She exhales audibly. "Well I would have been there for you, even if I was on the other side of the world. I'm sorry about your dad, Quil."
She steps forward and wraps a single arm around me. I enjoy her touch once more, but she pulls away too quickly. Before I can recover from our small conversation, she's in the other room cheering on Embry and Paul as they finish the song they are playing. I follow behind.
Once their finished, Paul hands me his guitar and Embry hands his to Nick, wishing him luck.
"Quil plays expert perfectly, just to let you know Nick," Embry teases as he sits down on the couch, betting for me to slaughter him.
"Oh, I'm ready for that!" he replies edging on the competition.
The song starts, though it's still on low because Emily is taking care of Melody, playing with her in the kitchen, talking to Claire's parents. Everyone else comes into the living room to watch us battle. Throughout the entire song there are cheers, unfortunately all causing Melody to cry. But the competitive banter fuels my score and when the song ends and the scores pop up, I'm shocked.
"What the fuck! Two perfect scores?" Embry cries out.
Everyone laughs, talking about how that's nearly impossible. Nick turns to me shakes my hand and says, "A worthy opponent."
"Equal," Claire says laughing, and then she takes his hand to lead him to the kitchen. After that the commotion disperses in search of the food, I stand there in my living room still staring at the score. There's no way we can be equal.
Suddenly not hungry, I take Melody from Emily so that she can eat. We go into my old bedroom, the one with her crib and where I put the rest of her things, and I sit down on the floor with Mel. She's just beginning to sit up on her own, so I sit so that one of my legs is bent, my outer thigh laying flat against the floor, and the other on slightly bent, knee towards the ceiling so that my body creates a little cave for her to sit. I set her there and she just chills, taking her small hand and trying to wrap it around my pointer finger.
Melody reminds me so much of Claire, and it's saddening to see how much time has passed. I wonder if our relationship will be in the same place as it is now when Melody is Claire's age. Leaning my head up against the wall, I close my eyes. She's making it nearly impossible to be in my own house.
How can we be equal in her eyes? I know I'm taking her comment out of context, but we are not equal in anyway. I can't imagine any love that he has for her being as strong as mine. He could try to refute this, but it's true. Sam loved Leah, but that didn't mean a thing when Emily came around. And although Leah was hurt, she moved on.
At least we're equal though. That's better than being less than him. Although I am. I mean less to her that he does.
Melody whimpers, and I know that I'll have to talk to her. I didn't realize how much my voice sounded like Jared until now.
"Hey, Mel. Don't cry," I say, opening my eyes. "Mel, why do you feel like I have to talk to you? I would sing, but that shouldn't be allowed. Though I'm sure Nick the dick could play you a real nice lullaby.
"I should be nice. Wouldn't want Emily to hear me teaching you names like 'Nick the dick.' What can I tell you that no one would mind me telling you," I ponder. "Equal," I scoff mockingly. but as I'm finishing the sentence there's a knock at the door frame.
"Not hungry?" Claire asks.
I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. I wonder if she heard the 'Nick the dick' comment.
"Mind if I join you?" she asks coming in and shutting the door behind her. I shrug in response and she sits down on the floor cross-legged, facing me. "Quil, I wanted to talk to you."
Melody chokes out a small cry, and I say, "Shh, Mel. This is Claire. I've told you about Claire." I don't really mean to say the last part out loud. Mel quiets at the sound of my voice. I think she's fussy because Emily put her though a lot of activity during the last three hours she's been up. Mel's tired. Trying to seize the time with Claire, I pick Mel up and lay her down in her crib, and then I return to my spot on the floor against the wall. "What's up?" I ask her trying to gain some sort conscious being in myself at the moment.
"I tried to earlier- to have a conversation with you about us," she begins. I focus on the word us. "Um- sorry I'm having a little incoherency with words right now," she laughs uncomfortably.
"Just say it. At this point I don't think I want to do this little dance around what we both want anymore and I'm sure you don't either. Really, I think both of us can handle that," I encourage her. I think I'm able to see through her feeble attempts at giving me hope.
She smiles weakly. "I wanted to let you know that I'm sorry. The last time we talked I guess I was too immature to handle anything. I think that's changed now," she responds to my encouragement. She leans forward resting her elbows on her knees. I can practically smell her scent strengthen as she gets closer to me even by the smallest centimeter. "I know we're going to be working together and I don't want there to be any weirdness."
"Yeah, I'd like for us to be able to at least not have everyone judging what's going on between us," I let slip out. It's just so natural to talk with her.
"Yeah," she agrees smiling. My heart almost cannot take it. Suddenly it's like I'm whole again when she's around.
Melody hums from the crib and I know she's deeply asleep.
"So why are you really in here and not eating with the rest of us?" she asks.
I lean forward matching her position on the floor and softly reply, "I don't know. Someone had to keep an eye on Mel."
"You know I know that's not really it right? I know I always do this, or more so I walk in on it and never mean to actually overhear it, but you're jealous," she accuses. "Quil, that's understandable. I mean I know how you work, with me that is. But it's hardly fair to hold it against me. You can be honest with me. You don't have to hide. I hate that, because everyone knows what's going on, they're just turning a blind eye to it, to let us work it out."
She has grown up a lot over these past few years. She's logical, smart, confident. She says what she's thinking. She doesn't over think. She's not the Claire I was in love with. She's a new Claire. One that is far more attractive, physically and mentally. A new Claire to be in love with.
I exhale roughly, "So I'm that obvious." My statement is true, but also lightens the conversation.
"Yeah," she laughs. "I said the scores were equal, not you two. You are two very different people."
"Fine, apparently I was over thinking it."
"Yes, you were. Come on Quil, I know you too well," she says standing up.
I get up as well, and check the baby monitor to make sure it's on. She watches me and says, "You were always the best babysitter. Part of me thinks that's why my parents moved onto the reservation. So that the babysitter was closer," she says laughing then turns serious. "I think it was good though."
"What?" I ask puzzled. We're standing in the middle of my old room, facing each other, mirroring each other's positions; arms downs by our sides, weight mainly resting back on our right legs.
"Staying away. I mean I got a chance to actually find out my own beliefs in life. That only comes from college and living on my own. But I didn't totally escape. I was in Italy and learned all about their vampire legends. I actually had to write a paper on it," she says raising her eyebrows. "And I really wanted to call you for help on it but I figured it was better to stay away- to let you heal. I was only hurting you by coming around."
"You were staying away from me? And I was staying away from you," I say laying all the facts on the figurative table.
The corners of her mouth draw into a small frown. "That's what I meant by 'you will.' I meant that I'd leave you alone and not bother you so that I couldn't hurt you. And the second I come back home I do it again," she explains. "I'm sorry. I really didn't know that we were coming over here. Or that you'd even be here. I thought you'd probably avoid the party and come talk to me on you own time without anyone watching."
"I forgive you Claire. You know I can't stay mad at you. It's pretty much impossible," I remind her. I don't like seeing her trying to seek my approval. That's my job.
"So are we good? Like friends and whatnot?" Claire asks tilting her head like she's pleading for the honest answer.
"Of course," I say and take two step toward her to hug her.
She wraps her arms around my waist and hugs me back, and I feel that jolt of electricity when we touch again. And as we both pull away, reluctantly for me, I don't realize what I'm actually doing. My right hand come up and lightly brushes over her hair and then slides to her neck. My left falls from her mid-back down to her right hip. I lean down bridging the gap between our two heights and gently press my lips to hers.
But I don't stop there. Her lips begin to move with mine. I'm not only kissing her, she's kissing me back. I pull her hips closer to mine and she comes in willingly. Her hands arrive at my chest, where they grip my shirt and pull me in closer to her.
And as quickly as I let this happen, she suddenly turns her face away from mine, and we're both breathless. She leans back slightly, though from the waist down we're still touching. Her expression as she turns to stare back at me. She's shocked at what I just did, and probably more at how easily she went along with it.
For a few more moments we catch our breaths together, and then she pushes away from me and says, "I'm sorry. I have to go."
A/N: (pt 2)
Now where else did she say that?
See I won't make him suffer for too long :]
-c.c