Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or any recognizable characters.
A/N: OK, so Fanfiction is a bitch, and wouldn't let me put the little 'dash' thingy between Risk and Taker. So... yeah. You'll get to see two sides of Claire in this chapter; her unexistent maternal side, and her generic teenage side. But still, thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted or whatever. Here's chapter 2.
Rawr.
Average Risk-Taker:
Chapter 2.
"Miss Young, are you even paying the slightest bit of attention to my lesson?"
This time, it was my Math teacher's voice that woke me from my dreams, and I've got to say I was more than a little annoyed. I was inclined to reply 'no' to his question, but I held my tongue for once in my life and saved myself a detention. I met Mr. Strokes' strict gaze, and shifted awkwardly in my seat.
The girl next to me, who I was fairly acquainted with, snorted at my displeasure, and I was about that close to decking her when Strokes' deep, reprimanding voice boomed again.
"I believe I asked you a question, Miss Young. It's simply rude to ignore someone - by sleeping, and by impertinence." OK, so I'll admit I had no clue what the fuck 'impertinence' meant, but still, he was being more rude by wasting my time than I was by ignoring his lectures. He just continued to stare at me, firm and expectant. I scowled back, not in the least bit happy about being confronted for the hundredth time this month.
"Sorry," I mumbled, not really feeling apologetic at all, then turned to face the window.
I heard Strokes sigh, and then he went back to trying to teach his merciless (and pointless) lesson. I just gazed out the dirty window, willing school to end quicker than probably possible. It was the first reasonably sunny day in Washington, and I was stuck in the worst lesson of all time.
I couldn't help but wonder what the guys (well, the guys who no longer attended prison) were doing at the moment, whether they were at Emily's just eating lunch... or playing XBox again... or if they'd picked up a scent... or... God, I was bored. I looked down at my textbook, still bored, and I came to the conclusion that I'd never be able to understand any of the work that the book held - with or without the help of Summer Fucking school.
Exhaling slowly, I began to become lost in my thoughts.
I wondered if Mom got that job yesterday. I wondered what Kim would call her second child, whom she was currently pregnant with. I wondered what Emily would be cooking for dinner tonight. I wondered if Embry had managed to win the baseball tickets he'd entered a competition for three weeks ago. I wondered if I'd ever develop breasts. I wondered if my undeveloped breasts would ever be as big as Aunt Rachel's. I wondered if I'd ever meet The Cullens again.
Sometimes, I even wondered if awkward humans like me have mortal enemies, like the pack have The Cullens. If I do, then it's probably Math, or at least something to do with school or Summer school or whatever. Maybe I was born to destroy giant calculators, like Quil was born to destroy leeches.
It took me a moment to realize that I'd actually giggled out loud about my theory. The girl next to me, whose name I still couldn't remember, snorted again, and this time I actually did punch her.
Five minutes later and I was outside Principal Strom's office...
Friday.
The first day of my 3 day suspension.
I actually think that I might die from deprivation of a social life, or at least from lack of creative things to do. Now, it might sound alright to have be able to sleep in till noon, laze around the house for the rest of the day, then go back to sleep not that long after I awoke, but honestly it's the closest thing I've ever experienced to Hell.
Sleeping in till noon is not an option, thanks to my Mother and the rest of my God-forsaken family. Nor is lazing around the house. Emily and Rachel have gone shopping in Seattle, and have left me with their kids. Well, Rachel's son is at school, and Emily's two other kids are there, too. Thankfully for me. Right now, I'm actually sitting in my kitchen, glaring at the four year old twins which sadly belong to Aunt Emily and Uncle Sam. It's hard to believe that such a kind women could have such unkind, annoying, stupidly evil offspring. They wanted to bake a cake, I said OK, and now I've only just finished scraping it off of the kitchen ceiling.
How stupid is it to trust a girl who can't even make herself toast with the charge of two kids? How pathetic is it that my only companions still watch Barney? How crazy is it that I'm actually mumbling aggressive-sounding Quileute words I don't even know the meanings of under my breath as I try to think of something safe for the pups to do? Was this really a fair punishment for hitting someone I didn't even like? Unfortunately for me, it probably was.
"Can we do that again!" Ellen asked in a high-pitched squeal that made me visibly wince.
"Yeah! Pwease!" Chimed in Ellen's almost identically annoying brother, Alex. I groaned inwardly, forcing myself not to throw the sponge I was currently clenching a fist around at their small heads. I'll say it now, I'm not a child person. I seriously don't know how anyone can stay sane after raising children.
"No," I said, gritting my teeth.
"Pwease?" Alex repeated, trying to play the all too ironic puppy-dog-eyes.
"Alexander Uley, I said no," I replied quietly, putting the sponge back in the cabinet under the sink. I turned to face them, where they were seated at my cluttered, wooden table. Ellen was four minutes older than Alex, and had Emily's warm hazel eyes, and the common Quileute dark hair. Alex's hair was curly though, and his eyes were almost as dark as his Father's. He was also slightly smaller than his sister, with a dimple on his chin.
"What're we gonna do then?" Ellen sighed, resting her little head in her proportionally tiny hands.
"How about you two go sit on the couch, and watch TV quietly?" I offered, hoping desperately that they might actually listen to me for once. And surprisingly, they did - for about a whole two seconds, anyway.
I banged my head against the south wall of my kitchen as I listened to them bouncing on the couch cushions, screaming as they did so. I felt like screaming, too.
Two hours passed and I managed to calm them down enough to watch television in a kinda of quiet way. Shouting quietly was kinda quiet, wasn't it? Oh well. My head was throbbing, and by the sixth episode of Scooby-Doo I had to go back into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I got a cup from the cupboard, filled it from the tap and then sighed deeply. I could still hear Alex and Ellen chatting contently from the the other room, and I sighed again, leaning on the draining board.
"Not much of a babysitter, are you?" As soon as I registered that the question had been spoken from quite close behind me, I gasped and turned around on my heel to face the intruder. "Hey!" Was all I heard next as I hit the person as hard as I could in the crotch. Then, slowly, I realized who it was, and once again I gasped.
"Quil!" I went on tiptoes so that I could hug him, not sure how I could apologize at all.
His hot arms closed around me tightly in response to the embrace, and I felt myself smile involuntarily. Then I felt his torso rack with laughter, and I heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet behind us. I slowly released him, and he slowly let me go - a smile now on his face. Alex frowned up at us, then he turned and whispered something to his sister, who giggled. I knew Quil probably heard what they said, but I really couldn't care to ask him. I was too embarrassed about attacking him to even speak at the moment.
"Awe you coming to play with us, too, Qwilly?" Alex stammered, grinning up at his Uncle. Quil grinned back, then bent down to pick Alex up onto his shoulders. Sometimes I wondered how the members of La Push's wolf packs could be at peace with each other's blood relations when they sometimes weren't even at peace with each other. I was just grateful that my best friend knew how to handle the future werewolves.
That was another plus on Quil, I guess. He was good with kids, as well as being funny, friendly, playful, and reasonably cocky. But then again, he was also irritating at times, he was occasionally too cocky, he was a soar-loser, too, and he never stopped eating when he was playing video-games (which actually did kinda amaze me. If anyone said boys couldn't multitask, then they obviously hadn't met the boys on the Rez'). So, with all of those things in mind, I couldn't help but love him. I just dreaded the day that he found out.
I watched him as he lifted Ellen onto his other shoulder, so that the tyke's heads were just brushing the finally clean ceiling. They screamed with joy, running their hands above their heads happily. I was happy, too, even if they were making stupidly loud noises. I was happy that someone who could kind of control them was here. I was happy that Quil Ateara was here.
"What's on the agenda then, Clairy-Fairy?" He turned to me, meeting my gaze. I smiled even wider in recognition to his use of my old nickname.
"Yeah!" Ellen squealed, patting his buzzed head.
I shrugged, tucking my bangs behind my right ear. "How about we watch a film?"
"Sounds good!" Alex was pulling Quil's ears outwards so that he looked like Shrek. I couldn't help but laugh.
I let them go into the living room first, then I went in and sat down between Ellen and Quil. The four-year old curled into my side, and oddly enough I found myself playing with her hair. I had come to the decision that I would never myself have kids, unless they were very quiet and well-behaved kids. But it was still nice to spend time with usually badly-behaved children when they were being quiet.
"Was I troublesome as child?" I asked Quil, who had until then been consumed by The Jungle Book.
"Hell yeah," He breathed in an answer, and I leant my head against him, still twirling Ellen's black hair.
It was strange to feel so suddenly content. I was sitting on a couch with Quil and two little children, and I couldn't be happier. God, I sounded sappy, didn't I?
I woke up in the middle of the night, some time between Saturday and Sunday.
I don't know why I woke up, whether it was the loudness of the rain beating on my window, or some nightmare I couldn't remember, I don't know. I was awake though, and I knew I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep straight away. Sighing, I just rolled over to face my bedroom wall.
It was cold in my room, but that was usual. I missed the heat of my werewolves. I missed the rare sunlight that touched our small reservation. I missed the idea of any warmth or light at all, and especially at this time of night the bleakness of Washington was getting to me. Maybe I could move away, somewhere where it isn't rainy or freezing, but instead sunny all year round. However, that somewhere had to have a forest. Because I had to have the packs in my life.
I actually felt myself wince to just imagine life without them. It would be worse than having to babysit the future werewolves. It would be worse than having to babysit any kinds of kids. It would be worse than Math, for God's sakes.
At that moment I realized that even if Quil never fell in love with me, I would still be in love with the fact that he would still be friends with me. I would be in love with him for as long as I could. And if that meant staying in this Hellhole then I would.
I sighed again.
"Would you rather... eat a moldy jar of peanut-butter that's sell by date ran out before you were even born, or wear Seth's underwear for a month?" I'm embarrassed to announce that these were the type of questions that made up the majority of my Sunday afternoon.
I was perched on the edge of an upturned tree, with Quil, Uncle Embry, Owen and Uncle Collin gathered around me on the forest floor. Owen was one of the newest members of Sam's pack, and to make him feel welcome we'd dragged him out to one of our favorite and most secretive clearings to mess with his head. And so far the whole 'messing with his head' part hadn't been taken into action. Instead, we were actually playing Would You Rather and Truth or Dare. Fun. Fun. Fucking fun.
"Peanut-butter," Embry answered, smirking confidently. "Seth's draws would be way too small for me."
Quil barked out the first laugh, and we all joined in instantly. This may not have been the most productive thing they could have done in-between shifts, but it was probably the funniest, and I was enjoying the games so far anyway.
"So..." Embry looked around the make-shift circle we had formed and then his black eyes fell upon me. As I said, I'd been enjoying the games so far. Depending on whatever Em came up with, I would either hate this game to heck, or I would still be content with joining in with the hooligans that made up my family. Wait... did I seriously just use the word 'hooligans'? Worrying.
"Claire," He finally announced that he'd be torturing me, and continued. Quil's large, boiling hand was in mine, and I felt myself grip it tighter. "Would you rather climb up the tree over there, right to top - and you'd have to stay up there for at least five hours," He gestured to one of the insanely tall evergreens that surrounded us, then continued with the second option. "Or would you rather go up to some air-head tourists, crying your eyes out whilst claiming that you found out you were a actually a boy - it's just that you had always had too small a dick to realize?"
Embry's goal was to torture me, wasn't it.
Not only was I scared of heights (thus the reason I never, ever complied to going tomb-stoning with them), but I actually had enough self-control to not even think about doing something so stupid. I looked up at the damned tree, and thanked God that these scenarios were only hypothetical at the present.
"Tree," I said finally, squeezing Quil's hand so hard that I would probably obtain bruises on my own palm.
"Ooh. Such a daredevil," Owen mocked, wiggling his fuzzy eyebrows at me.
"Such an ass-wipe..." I breathed, knowing that they'd be able to hear me no matter how quiet I said it. I still said it, earning raucous laughter from my companions.
It was true that in Sam's pack everyone knew everything about everyone, and in Jake's pack it was the same, however that didn't mean that I knew anything about the guys I spent nearly all of my time with. Sometimes I actually wondered why they allowed me to spend time with them, why they let me know what they really were, why they even bothered with me at all. Aunt Emily had a reason to know, she was an imprint. Kim had a reason to know, she was an imprint. Aunt Rachel had a reason, she was even an imprint. But who was I? No one had imprinted on me, had they?
Something strange suddenly occurred to me, and I automatically looked at Quil. He was laughing along with the others still, his face lit up by his current happiness. He always had been so beautiful to me, always so important and prominent. What was I to him though? Just his little best friend. Just a measly little freshman. Even with the fact that him imprinting on me was near impossible in mind, I still said what I said next with as much determination that I could muster.
"Lets play Truth or Dare. Now."