Hello! First off I need to thank you guys SO much for all the amazing reviews; you all literally made my stomach do flips! So I was very motivated and excited to start the next chapter, however it's going to be shorter than the first (which, yes, is very, very pathetic, but between freshmen orientation and otherwise, I'm quite limited on time). It is two parts—originally I was just going to put a page break in before adding the next part of the chapter, but didn't get to finish it, so I thought an update, no matter how short, might still be appreciated! So here it is:

Clare awoke with a stomachache. And she had felt nauseated since. It was a curdled creation of excitement, nerves, and inhibitions that bubbled in the pit of her stomach and rose to her throat, coating it like bile after the first retch or pills taken one by one without water to wash it down. It was sickly sweet. Unbridled giddiness she hadn't felt in weeks pulsed through her, keeping time with the beating of her heart and the pounding at the back of her head. She wondered how it was possible to possess such hope and happiness, and yet feel so sick.

Everything was wrong. She was alone; more so than ever before. Her picture-perfect image of a loving all-American Christian family had been shattered, shards of its glass frame going their separate ways; Darcy to Kenya, her mother gratefully burying herself in fundraisers and charities, her father taking refuge in work… and all that was left was the final sliver of what was and what could have been, trying to hold the picture together while at the same time wondering what the hell happened. She had her heart broken. Not only because Eli had rejected her, but because he had taken away the one thing that was keeping her whole: the blissful nothingness of having friends, being accepted when your mother was pushing you aside to forget her own pain, and when your father had declared papers and business meetings more important than his own flesh and blood, and when your sister had left you to deal with it all while she escaped, while she ran away, leaving you with her problems, her image, her reputation.

Yeah, Clare thought bitterly. Everything is wrong? So why do I suddenly feel like something might be going right?

It was true, she felt somewhat good, even if it was accompanied by a bilious disposition she attributed to nerves, at least it was something, a break from the constant numbness she'd been feeling for too long. It had been a dark time. And it was only now with a shred of light upon the horizon that she truly realized how dark it was. She had questioned things: her worth, the reason she was here, God's plan, etc. She had lost faith, and honestly, she could see how it was possible now, though she'd never dare mention it to her parents or any of their friends from church.

Because it was all right. God had given her an angel to restore her faith and save her from herself, her doubts, and Clare couldn't be more relieved. As she got ready for the Saturday service (where she once again expected to see hardly anyone) her legs and hands shook and she felt light-headed. It was over. Over. Overoveroveroverover. She couldn't stop repeating the mantra over and over again, for never had the word tasted so good on her tongue. Her whole life, even when Darcy had been raped, even when her parents first started to fight she had prayed, she had kept faith. She believed that these horrible, horrible things had happened to her because God was trying to strengthen her in her spirit and her soul. What was that saying? 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger'? 'No pain, no gain'? That had all made sense to her, and she had accepted it, though unwilling. And she had gotten Adam and Eli. She stopped Adam from being Gracie and burning himself. That had to count for something right? God was showing her that he had plans for her to help people and to be happy, just like any other teenager. But then, as soon as they had come, her gifts had been taken away, her rewards for sticking it out through thick and thin, revoked. Eli avoided her, and consequently Adam did too, though Clare didn't blame him. He was Eli's friend before hers, now that she thought about it she probably was only tolerated by him because of Eli. So what did that make he so-called friends? A boy who only hung out with her so he could spend time with his best friend, and an English partner that was so used to girls falling all over him, he had tried to let her down gently by pretending to be her friend? Those thoughts swirled about her mind, before she finally calmed down enough to slow her racing ideas.

It doesn't matter, she reminded herself, though the wind seemed to be knocked out of her lungs and her heart seemed to be deciding whether or not beating was worth it anymore. I don't have to try to be their friend again. God's going to show me how it can get better. Clare repeated this to herself several times and the more she said it, the easier it was to convince her it was true. She allowed herself a small smile as she thought about the better things that could be coming, maybe friends that understood her, wanted her for her, not for pity or otherwise. Maybe she'd even get a boyfriend; her own personal Edward Cullen. And it all started with Father Smith.

He seemed to want to know about her, whether it be his job to or not. Isn't it a parent's job to be there to listen to and comfort their kids? Or a sister's job to protect their little sister? Yet Clare didn't see any of those roles being filled. As long as someone cared, as long as someone didn't think she was just a sloppy second… only then could she truly be at peace with herself.

She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and gave a tentative smile. Clare could see herself becoming great. Better than Darcy, better than Jenna, better than any girl Eli would end up with. She wouldn't be alone, and she wouldn't be afraid. She would finally reach the perfection she had been striving for. With that thought in mind, she gave herself a final grin before clasping her cross necklace around the back of her neck, not even needing to look at her reflection for the routine had become so familiar. She slid on her purity ring, fingering the engraved thorned rose vines that were etched across the silver. When she was younger, her parents had given her a purity ring with a little opal in the center and pink jewel hearts surrounding it, but after KC, after Eli, she had developed her own reason for abstinence, especially in the time where God was the last thing on her mind. She smiled feeling the message 'Every rose has its thorns.' brush against her skin from inside of the ring.

Love might seem beautiful, she conceded. But it was really just heartbreak waiting happen. People cheated. People lost interest. People might've been in love, but one day they wake up and realize that they feel nothing for the person lying next to them.

Clare shook away her negative thoughts. All she needed was the love of the church, the love of God, and she would be fine. She would be happy.

Clare just hoped—prayed—no one would take that away from her.

Oh, wouldn't it just be absolutely horrible if that happened? ;) Foreshadowing? Maybe. Just a tiny but. Kind of. For those who reviewed with this question, yes, there is definitely something off with Father Smith. We just don't quite know what yet…. I am trying to hurry up with the Eclare, but I really want to build up a stong emotional bond between Clare and the Father, just to get the desired result when things 'come to a boil', so to speak, so forgive me for that! Thanks so much for reading! BE sure to review if you like it or have anything to say! -Breathe