I just realized I made a MAJOR (okay it's not that major, but whatever) mistake in Chapter 2... I wrote something along the lines of "the spot where her jacked had hung"... Which is total crap since Jamie's family just moved to La Push, so there's no friggin way Lindsey's jacket hung ANYWHERE in that house. Let's just say that the house has some similarities to their old one, like they hang up their jackets at the same place or whatever. Yeah, that's me making lame excuses. LOL

Dedicated to ALL my friends because I just love you guys. 3

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, not me. *sniffles* Song credit goes out to Kaene!

You're aching, you're breaking
And I can see the pain in your eyes

Seth was officially the nicest person I'd ever met. For the rest of the day he insisted on carrying my bag and always walked me to class, asking me the most random questions all the time. By the end of the school day he knew absolutely everything about me --- except what happened two months ago. I wasn't ready to talk about it, not yet, and to my relief he didn't push it when he noticed I was uncomfortable with him asking certain questions.
"We've been talking about me all day," I complained lightly as we walked out of school, Seth still carrying my stuff.
He shrugged, a grin stretching over his face. "You're much more interesting than I am."
"I highly doubt that," I muttered, somewhat embarrassed by his comment, and turned my face away so he didn't see the blush on my cheeks.
"Yes-", he began, but cut off by his cell phone ringing. He sighed exasperatedly and pulled it out. "Yeah?"
I couldn't hear what the person on the other end said, but judging of Seth's face it wasn't good news. "Do I really have to?"
Apparently he had to because once he snapped the phone shut -almost breaking it in the process, I might add- he said goodbye to me with a quick hug that left me paralyzed for a short moment -in a good way, of course- and all but ran into the woods, leaving me behind.
I sighed and made my way towards my car, cringing away from some random dude who came dangerously close to me with his football.
Just as I was about to get into the car, a soft sniffle alerted me of someone's presence. Claire was sitting on the floor, just around the corner, her back against the wall and her head in her hands.
"Claire?", I asked quietly, walking over to her and crouching down next to her trembling body.
She jumped and hectically wiped away the tears, as if she hoped I wouldn't have noticed. "Oh, hey, Jamie," she said in a thick voice, pretending to be happy, a fake smile on her face, while her cheeks were still damp.
My forehead creased in concern as I looked at her. Her eyes were red and puffy from all the crying and her make-up was smeared all over her face, but the worst part was the bruise that covered half her cheek. I wondered why I hadn't noticed before. My voice was barely more than a shocked whisper as I spoke. "What happened to you?"
"Nothing."
"Claire, your face tells a completely different story."
"Well, maybe it's lying?", she said lamely and we both burst out laughing at the absurdity of the sentence. The laughter didn't last long though and soon Claire broke down crying again, taking me with her. We sat on the ground for a long time, me whispering soothing words into her ear and rubbing her back while she cried into my shoulder.
"Do you want to talk about it?", I asked once the sobs had subsided.
Against my expectations she nodded against my shoulder and began to speak in a shaky voice. "I'm scared to go home," she confessed quietly.
When I was about to ask why, she kept talking. "My Mom... She-she's an alcoholic and she gets so violent when she's drunk. And today she's probably especially drunk because my Dad left us exactly five years ago. I'm so scared, Jamie."
"Your mother did this to you?"
"I don't think she meant to do it, she's out of control when she's drunk," Claire mumbled, defending the woman who hit her.
I was shocked, to say the least. How could someone do that to sweet, bubbly Claire? Squeezing my eyelids shut tightly, I forced back the tears of sympathy that threatened to spill over. I knew how much I had hated it when people back in Texas had looked at me with all the pity, and I wanted to spare Claire from that.
"Please don't tell anyone," Claire whispered as she sat up straight and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "They'd freak out so badly."
"Of course not," I replied softly and reached out to wipe away a smudge of make up under her eye.
Claire silently got up, brushing the dirt off her clothes, and pulled me up, too.
The fear was evident in her eyes as she slowly made her way around the corner and onto the parking lot.
"You can come home with me, if you want," I offered, not knowing whether that was such a good idea, yet hoping it was. Maybe it helped her to see other families had problems as well.
"If you don't mind, then yes, I'd love to." Her face was lit up like a Christmas tree as she hopped into my car, electing a soft smile from myself.

When we reached my house, I uncomfortably cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment. "I have to warn you... My Mom doesn't talk."
Instead of asking why, Claire just gave me a reassuring smile and got out of the car, waiting for me to lead the way. She was such a strange kid...
I couldn't believe I was really doing this. This would surely end in a catastrophe, most likely with my Dad coming home earlier than expected and yelling at me. Shaking that train of thought off, I slowly opened the door and motioned for Claire to walk in first.
"You have a really pretty house," she said admiringly as she looked around in the hallway. It had changed a lot since I'd left this morning and I could see that pretty much everything was already in it's place, even including my shoes and jackets. Weird.
"Thanks," I muttered, taking her jacket and hanging it up for her, my face heating up. Even though I knew it was a stupid reaction to a compliment that wasn't even directed at me, but I just couldn't help it. It was my usual reaction to anything compliment-like that was even close to being directed at me or something I owned.
Suddenly my Mom appeared in the hallway, a lost look on her face, as if she'd been aimlessly wandering around in the house for the past hours. Which was probably the case. When she saw me her face seemed to light up a little bit, but maybe I just started imagining things. Mom's face never lit up anymore.
Then she noticed Claire beside me, who hadn't even noticed my Mom, and her eyes went wide in shock. She clearly hadn't expected me to make any friends, let alone bring someone home already. Well, actually, neither had I, but here I was, having found three amazing friends already, one of them home with me.
Which seemed like the worst mistake I could've made as I saw tears form in my mother's eyes before she ran out of the hallway and into her room, slamming the door shut behind her.
Claire turned to me, a shocked expression on her face. I didn't know what to do, or to say, so I just stared back, my eyes wide as well.
After a while I simply lead Claire into the kitchen, still silent, and began to make us two mugs of hot chocolate.
"I'm sorry," I finally said as I placed the cup in front of Claire. "My family has been through a lot lately and Mom just can't handle it..." I trailed off then, knowing that me talking more would only lead to Claire asking more and more questions. Little did I know Claire would ask them anyway.
"What happened?", she asked softly, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.
I turned my head away, not wanting to answer, but did it anyway. I felt as though I had to because Claire had told me her story as well, no matter how much it would hurt me. Besides, maybe it was good to finally talk to someone about it?
"My sister died two months ago." My voice sounded shaky and raw, as if I was on the verge of crying. Which was exactly the case. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat back down and told Claire everything. While the tears streamed down my face, she wordlessly sat in front of me, and listened to my story. When I was done, she simply got up and gave me a big, comforting hug. I suddenly realized I had missed this. For the past two months I'd had to deal with the situation alone, without any help from my parents. Not once had they pulled me into a hug, saying stupid things like "It'll be okay", even though deep down they knew things would never be okay anymore. Not after what had happened. But it still would've felt good to know someone was there to help me.
"Everything will be alright," Claire whispered into my ear and squeezed me tightly before letting go and sitting back down onto her chair.
"Please don't tell anyone," I sniffled while wiping my cheeks with the sleeve of my shirt. I might've been able to tell her, but that didn't mean I wanted to go through it again. Plus, I was pretty sure not everyone would act like Claire and look at me without pity. It seemed like I was still the same girl to Claire, no one to pity, just a normal girl with problems. It was nice to feel normal. At home things usually were so strange and in Texas they had been just as strange, maybe even stranger than here.
As time went on, Claire grew tenser by the minute. She told me she had to go home soon.
"You're not going home tonight," I replied simply. At her puzzled look I added, "You're staying here. Mom won't mind, I think."
Claire frowned as she considered that option, her head tilted to one side.
"I have to call my Mom, though," she said, a grimace stretching over her face.
"Sure." I got up and searched for it, walking back into the kitchen after finding it in the living room.
I decided to give her some privacy and went looking for my mother. She was locked up in her room and I had to knock several times to make her let me in. When she opened the door, the first thing I noticed were her red and puffy eyes. It seemed as if today was the day of crying for everyone.
"Mom, Claire's staying here tonight," I declared, knowing she wouldn't object anyway, or hoping she wouldn't. To my relief, she didn't, simply nodding and shutting the door again. After I heard the quiet click of the lock, I sighed and walked down the stairs again and into the kitchen. There I found Claire sitting at the table, staring at the phone in her hand as if it smelled bad, her nose scrunched up in obvious disdain. When she heard me enter the room, she looked up, a small smile forming on her face.
"Everything okay?", I asked, jerking my chin towards the phone that now sat in front of her on the table.
"It was the answering machine, so I left a message. I don't think she'll listen to it anyway."

The evening ended really calm, much to my surprise, as Dad hadn't come home. He was probably staying at work all night, like he did so often. You'd never hear me complain about that, though. Somtimes it's nice to have a calm and uneventful evening.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid chapter, I know. I just lost inspiration, I really don't know why. :(

Please review anyway, even if it's just to say that chapter was crap.