A/N: I'm probably not going to apologize about the long wait. I've moved out of my house and all that goes along with it...so I haven't had much time. As a continuation of that thought, I'm at school so school now comes before fanfiction. Don't fret I still will try to finish this story soon...but it may take some time.
About this chapter, I had to do a lot of setting up for the end, so some of this may seem useless...but it's needed. Also, I didn't edit it...so it's very raw. I actually accidentally wrote "shit the door" instead of "shut the door" multiple times...so if you find anything crazy...I know. I just wanted to get it to you that much faster. :]
enjoy
-c.c.
"Quil!" Embry calls bursting into my house without knocking. "Quil!"
"What?" I ask annoyed, sticking my head out of the hall bathroom, toothbrush in my hand and toothpaste in my mouth.
Embry practically skips down the hall and slaps me on the back. "You are the best, best friend that has ever walked this earth."
I turn back into the bathroom and spit out the toothpaste in my mouth into the sink. I flip on the water and cup a handful onto my mouth and rinse, all the while a little confused on why Embry's so excited.
After spitting for a last time I ask, "Why did I earn such a prestigious standing in your mind? A week ago you were pissed for me quitting the pack and now I'm the best person alive?"
"Not the best person," he corrects following me into my kitchen, where I pull out the container of orange juice, twist the lid and take a swig straight from the carton. "Just best friend. Summer and I have been hanging out. Your art work I presume," he says inclining his head suggestively and leaning up against the adjacent counter.
I chuckle. Over the past week, I harassed Summer for updates on how Claire's decision making was going. In return she wanted someone to go to the WWE's Summer Slam with her. She had two tickets, and needed to make sure Embry wasn't with some bimbo at the moment. Information for information, a fair trade.
"Ha, yeah," I confirm, replacing the lid back on the orange juice.
"Do you realize that ring side seats have been sold out for months?" Embry asks excitedly.
"Summer mentioned something about that."
I walk out into my living room, my mind on my conversations with Summer and Claire. Embry follows like an excited puppy. The couch groans when I plop down onto it. Reaching between the cushions I find the controller to the television and flick it on.
Embry promptly walks over and flicks it off. He folds his arms across his chest and taps his foot, jokingly. "Don't you want to know the real reason I came over here?"
I'm a little pissed at this point. Embry's come into my small place of sanctuary and is ruining it. All I've done lately is taken a page from Claire's book and thought. I'm constantly thinking about her and her decision which she seems less and less likely to make as the days pass. I'm trying to be patient though. Let her figure everything out on her own. My mind has also wandered to the night of her welcome home dinner at my house, trying to figure out what I did right, and what I did wrong.
"It's about Claire," Embry clarifies in a tempting tone.
I roll my eyes. "Of course and it would have been nicer if you got to this earlier."
My scolding makes Embry chuckle deeply and rub his chin with his hand, contemplating where to begin.
"So I was running patrol last night. And I was out by the beach and I heard some yelling," Embry says walking over to the other couch and sitting down on the arm of it. "So I ran down towards the commotion to check it out and I ended up at Claire's house."
"She all right?" I ask quickly, sitting up slightly.
"Yeah, yeah she's fine as far as I can tell. Nick an her were fighting real bad. Something about her kissing you more that one and sneaking off to go see you. He was packing up his car with a bunch of shit, a piano and everything. So I figure either he's got an apartment or he's moving back to California. I'm assuming California, because he said he had a long drive ahead of him."
"She told him?" I ask bewildered. "Honestly, I didn't think she'd tell him."
"Well it wasn't like she was pleading for him to go," Embry continues. "She just was yelling that she was trying to be honest with him."
"So, they could have broken up?" I ask hopefully. Every cell in my body was screaming for her to have made up her mind. I'm excited now.
Embry sighs and stares down at the ground. "He told her to call him when she makes a decision for sure about what she wants. And if it was him, he didn't want her working with you next year."
His last information is grim, but there's a little bit of hope still. She told him, which means that she's acknowledging what happened to others than ourselves. I wonder why Summer hasn't called with this information yet. Has Claire told her what happened yet?
"And Quil? I don't know if her parents had some say in it either. They weren't going to let him shack up with Claire at their house forever," Embry added sadly.
"Shack up? What!?" I question back yelling.
Embry's eyes widen like he's said something wrong and suddenly feared getting punched.
"No. No. No. He was sleeping on the couch, I can assure you that. I misspoke.
"Thanks Embry," I say smiling, starting to find good in all this.
"No problem, though I could use a favor," he says looking back up at me.
I sigh closing my eyes. "What is it Embry?"
"Well, you know how I like to take my cars off-roading?" Embry starts. "I did something to my transmission and I'm guessing it's fried, considering I've had it for almost twenty years. And Summer wants me to drive to Summer Slam, so could we use your nice truck?"
"As long as you don't crash it," I agree sourly. "And you put gas in it."
"Deal," Embry agrees.
After watching a preseason football game on my television for three and a half hours, Embry says he's late for a shift. Having crossed a trail last night he was hesitant at leaving Mark alone for extended periods of time.
Once he's out my door I clean around the house. Picking up the empty chip bags and dusting the furniture. I'm running the water in the kitchen and day dreaming, so I don't hear the knock at the door, until it sounds like banging.
Quickly, I shut off the water and dry my hands on a relatively dry towel and run to the door.
"Inside we need to talk," Summer says greeting me without a smile. She marches determined into my living room and waits for me to follow. She's wearing jean shorts and a shirt that reads 'Hogwarts is so last year, I'm going to Starfleet Academy.' In my head, I laugh wondering if I should tell her that Embry is probably the most hard core Star Trek fan that has ever walked. I'm pretty sure he stalked William Shatner for a good five years through middle school.
"Okay, I'm about to make your day right now," she says quickly. "I have to be quick, my mom had to drive me by to get something of Embry's that he left here."
I catch on and run into my bedroom where I grab a grey sweatshirt that could have belonged to anyone in the pack. "Here," I say throwing it back to her.
"Okay. Claire and Nick had a fight last night. He packed his stuff up and drove to a motel where he's going to stay for a few days, then he's going back to California," Summer spits out quickly.
"How long is a few days?" I ask wondering how long until I have the clear of him really being gone.
Summer sighs and folds her arms over her chest, the grey sweatshirt tangling itself between her forearms, and she looks pointedly off to her left before meeting my stare once again. "I know what you're thinking, Quil. Just because he leaves doesn't mean she'll run to you."
I clench and unclench my teeth, suppressing anger. One week and counting, as for phasing.
"Anyways my mom is going to wonder what's taking so long," Summer shrugs and heads towards the door. "If I find out anything more, I'll text."
She lets herself out with a wave.
Somehow being on friendly terms with Summer, or friendlier than we ever were before is odd to me. She's not acting like herself. As walk through my house turning on lights because the dusk has begin to set, a small thought enters my mind. She knows more than she lets on. Summer lied. She cut out quick, glanced sideways, held something back from me. Claire's told her something that Summer has been forbidden to tell me.
Or I'm just working myself up into something, like Bella always used to do. Except for the most part she was right.
I make a small dinner consisting of Ramen noodles and chocolate milk. Somehow I feel like I'm in college again. Except this time I don't get to spend my spare time with Claire. It's not only that she's playing back and forth between what she wants.
I stop chewing, unsatisfied. Shaking my head, disgusted with myself, I sigh, "I'm such a terrible person."
I was so cold to Claire the last time we spoke that I'm not surprised that she didn't come to me right away. How can I be cold to her? How can I hate her for everything that's happened but still love her so much? It's just crap. She's right. This supernatural shit, that's meant to protect, meant to be good, has fucked everything up. It's screwed with my life for so long, and I can't be free of it.
Pushing myself up, I walk to the kitchen garbage and pitch my uneaten dinner into the garbage. I kick the door to the garbage, and it rattles loudly. "Fuck it," I breathe.
What a shitty life I lead.
The door shakes noisily as I shut it. Leaning both hands against the counter, rocking my weight back into my heels, I rest my forehead against the cabinet door in front of me and close my eyes. This is just so ridiculous. Why can't I just be a normal guy? Just move on and mindlessly screw other girls until I'm too old to do that anymore. Then, I would choose a girl to settle down with and have one main squeeze.
But I can't. I'm just not wired to work like that anymore. Fuck you imprinting! Fuck you supernatural shit! Fuck being a Quileute! I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't want to have my entire life changed like this. From the moment I met Claire. I sigh roughly, angered. From the moment I met Claire it made life just so much more complicated.
But it also made it so much better. It made it complete.
A secondary voice, one that has become so familiar to me. It's the voice that I started hearing the second my eyes met Claire. It is my conscience.
As much as I hate who I am. As much as I hate what Claire's done to me. As much as I hate what I've done to her. As much as I hate imprinting. As much as I try to forget and can't. As much as I've given. As much as I've taken…
I love her.
I can't help but love her. I know it sounds corny, but she's the center of my universe.
She knows it and she won't do anything about it.
"Damn it," I say to myself, squinting my eyes tighter together. There's a small amount of heat and anger rippling through my chest, something that I have been trying to repress.
Breathing in and out trying to calm myself, I'm startled when for the third time in this day there's a sign of a visitor. The knock at my door is light the first time I hear it, but then quickly it comes again, this time louder, more sure.
I shake off the rest of my anger, for the most part and head for the door. Pulling it open I see her face. Claire. Any emotion but undying love leaves my body.
Her arms are folded across the center of her body over her red tank top, and she's soaked from head to toe, not just a drizzle, her entire body, including her jeans. Her hair is down clinging to her wet skin around her collar bones. Her lips are parted, her eyes apprehensive and scared.
Without words she pulls open the screen door and practically jumps into me, wrapping her arms around my neck and burying her face into my chest. I pull her into the cold house, picking her up a little, and shut the door with her still clung to my body, and automatically wrap my arms around her.
Then, taking me by complete surprise and I certainly don't question her actions, she begins to place kisses from the base of my neck, to my jaw, and finally to my lips.