"Claire, honey, wake up," the most wonderful voice cooed me as I passed the line from dreaming to fully awake. Quil was on his knees, leaning over me, and shaking my shoulder.

"Hey Quil," I whispered, my voice hoarse. Then, it hit me why I was in the closet. Oh, whoops... I had fallen asleep.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"It's midnight," he answered, still using his coo-ing voice. "Uncle Sam and Aunt Emily left in a hurry, so they told me to take you home."

"Okay," I smiled, and reached my arms out towards him.

He laughed and picked me up gently. "What were you doing in a closet anyways? The bed wasn't comfortable enough?" He asked, a little bit of joking in his voice, but also a lot of worry.

"I will explain later," I yawned. I let my head fall on to Quil's shoulder and I shut my eyes. "I'm tired," I admitted. Though, I wish I weren't, because then Quil and I could do something together. I guess I would have to blame it on my stupid, broken leg.

He didn't say anything for a while after that. Sometimes it barely felt like we were moving, but I looked up every once and a while and saw the forest floor. I'm glad he decided to take this way instead of driving. I liked his arms better than the backseat of a truck.

"What's an imprint?" I asked him suddenly, trying to remember what else I wanted to ask him about the conversation I had heard.

Quil stopped dead in his tracks. I hadn't expected him to be so wary, so I looked up at his brown eyes that were looking down at me.

"Perhaps I will explain it later," he shifted my body weight to one arm and pulled my hair out of my face with his other hand. "But now, you need to sleep. You're tired, my Claire bear."

My heart fluttered and I blushed. I tucked my head to his chest again, hoping to appear just as if I was asleep. When in reality I couldn't rest at all. I was his Claire bear.

Sooner or later I got drowsy again, but then I heard some voices that were a bit loud.

I looked up and we were in my living room. Quil was now passing me over to Uncle Sam. I tried not to show my disappointment.

"You took her through the woods?" Sam asked, through closed teeth.

"Yes, I knew she would be safe with me, otherwise I wouldn't dare. Plus Edward would know if that-- Zachary guy was in the perimeter at all. I know what I'm doing," he said, being very defensive.

"You're putting your life and my niece's life on the trust of bloodsuckers? Quil, our pack is the only people we can trust. The vampires may be helpful in some situation, but you can't always rely on them." He spoke louded. I shuddered.

"Get her to bed, she's tired. I'm sure she doesn't appreciate all this yelling," Quil whispered. I didn't move at all, how did Quil always know exactly what I wanted?

Uncle Sam jerked me around to face another way, "She is my niece, I know what I'm doing." He started walking down the hall, I could feel his enormous footsteps taking place. But, soon enough, I was on my bed.

Then I just let myself fall asleep. I just had to.

"Claire, wake up," the sweet voice of my Aunt chanted, "You've got to get ready for school."

Oh, great. I groaned and pulled my pillow over my head.

"Come on, hun, two more weeks." Then there was an absence of my comforter and sheets. I shivered.

"The only way to get warm is to put some warmer clothes on... and to do that you'll have to get up," she said, too sweetly, and left the room.

I was about to protest, on account of my leg, but as I sat up I saw my crutches leaning up against my wall by my bed. Some one must have got them from the Cullen house, I couldn't remember Quil carrying them along with myself.

I heaved myself out of bed, set my crutches up under my armpits and walked to my closet. I picked out a sweatshirt and some jeans. If it was like any other day (yesterday being an exception) it would be cold and muddy. Somehow I managed to get my clothes on myself without falling down.

Then, I quickly put my hair up in a ponytail and walked out in to the living room. Both of the car's were gone; and I knew Emily and Sam had left for work. But, as usual, there was a gray truck in the driveway. And I saw Quil sitting in it, looking in at me. He smiled and I gestured for him to come in. It didn't take him long.

"You almost ready to go?" He asked me as he closed the front door behind him. His hair was wet and matted down on his forehead.

"Yes, I just want to grab an apple to eat on the way," I told him. Before I could walk a step, he darted in to the kitchen and back out with a big, red apple.

"Enjoy," he told me.

I laughed and took a big bite in it. Man, did I love apples. Quil stared at me as I chomped down a few more bites.

"What?" I asked playfully, "Do you want some?" I reached it out to him.

He laughed and shook his head. "No, I ate a huge breakfast... three deer." He chuckled and I made a grossed out face.

"Ready?" He asked again, though not seeming impatient.

"Yup," I started to walk forward, but again Quil surprised me, and lifted me on to his back. I put my arms around his neck and he walked over to the hall closet. I wasn't really surprised when he grabbed out an umbrella.

He then stepped outside on the porch and opened up the umbrella and held it directly over my head. I laughed as he got drenched and kept shaking his hair.

He set me in the passenger seat of his truck, slammed the door, and went inside to get the crutches. Then he shoved them in the back and climbed in himself.

"Aw, I don't get to drive?" I asked, though I knew why he wouldn't. Now that I was fifteen, he always let me drive. I could tell he got very nervous sometimes, though, and wouldn't let me drive in town or on the highways.

"Don't think so, little Claire," he said and started the truck up. "Now buckle up, I think I would get murdered by Sam if I did anything more to hurt you."

I rolled my eyes but put my seat belt on.

He drove and I finished my apple. Most of the time I was too tired in the morning to do anything but mumble. But today, Quil was driving me nuts. I didn't know why, either.

"Will you tell me what an imprint is now?" I asked, approaching the conversation since we still had a good fifteen minute drive.

He looked over at me, "Later?" He asked. "It's—well, it's sort of hard to get a grasp on. It might take a while to explain everything..."

I shrugged, "Then what about tonight? When I get home from school and finish my homework we can go down to First Beach and talk about it." I was surprised at myself on how easy that plan had been.

"No more First Beach, Claire. But, maybe at home... before your aunt and uncle get home."

"You're agreeing that easily? Usually you're more stubborn than a mule," I added in lightly.

He didn't pick up my tone, his voice was hard now. "You deserve to know, Claire."

My heart sped up. "Oh... is it bad?"

He didn't smile, "Most of the time, it's not. It's a pretty fantastic thing... but, as for now, it's—well, you'll figure out soon enough."

I shook a little without him noticing and faced out the window. I just couldn't decipher what an imprint was, even with the little information he had given me. Whoever an imprint was, it was a bad thing to be right now. And I knew that from the conversation last night that it meant the imprints were on a hit list of the Zachary guy. I also knew Quil had an imprint himself, and I couldn't figure out whether to be happy or sad about it. He must have been going through hell right now.

Before long, we arrived in front of the little high school of La Push. It had around eight-hundred students and a good swim/dive team. And that was about it. It wasn't anything extraordinary, just a brown-red brick building with windows and doors. Cars of people I had known for years all parked in the front area.

Quil drove up to the drop-off area (how lame, right?) and got out to help me out of the truck. Many people were looking at me, and I wish I had decided to wear my hair down; to hide my blushed face. He put my backpack handles around my arms (I left it in his truck every night since he always, always, always drove me to school). Then, just like a mother or father would, he placed the crutches under my arms and kissed my cheek. "Have a good day, Claire bear."

I then strode in to the school, ignoring the looks directed at me. Whispers fled, of course. Stupid broken leg!

One of my "friends", Ashley, came up to me and started to act all freaked out. "Oh my god! What the hell happened, C?"

"Uh- I fell... on First Beach," I told her, since that was partly true. She glared at me weirdly.

"Oh, that's it? You just fell?"

I had some sort of incentive that she was hoping it to be some cool story on how I had broken my leg.

I shrugged, "Basically, Ash." I used her nickname, since I knew she appreciated it much.

"That's too bad," she fake pouted, and then turned around to go another way. "Later, Cuh-laire."

Sometimes it was very easy to loathe people. Like today. It felt like the entire world was against me. And, tonight couldn't go any better.

There was a part of me that wanted to know what an imprint was... but, another part didn't want to make Quil suffer by bringing up the topic of what it was. Since he had one himself, he probably got sad when he thought about Zachary.

My poor Quil.