Chapter 35 Green

Claire had the flu. Not such a big deal, right? I mean, she was a kid, sure, but healthy, over all. Her parents had taken her to the doctor and gotten a perscription. Her mom was staying off from work and was caring for her in the best of their ability. I asked Cathryn about it, and she hadn't seemed especially concerned. Which was saying something, as Cat was every bit as protective of her as her parents. However, Cathryn, nor Claire's parents, could not hold a candle to Quil Ateara. The guy had gone bananas. He was missing work, spending even more time with her than her mother, and was constantly worrying about her. Jacob and I hadn't seen him around the house in a while, as he was caring for Claire in the day and sleeping outside her window at night. Not something I could really blame him for, as I had done the same thing recently, when Cathryn had decided she hated werewolves. I mean, it wasn't like I could be without her. Or stalk her or force myself upon her or whatever. I couldn't scare her. And that left me very limited options.

What I could blame Quil for, however, was the fact that he was shirking responsibilities when it came to patrol. The guy hadn't even had to stay human to do it, as Jacob refused to alpha-command anyone unless it was an emergency, and Sam didn't have the heart to keep him away from Claire. Something I could grumble about, but I wouldn't have been able to do it, either. I was capable of empathy, and if Cathryn was in Claire's situation I'd be just as bad. But the problem with this little arangement was that Jacob and I, as the wolves he had patrol with, had to work overtime. Now, I realize that sleep isn't exactly essential for me, not being entirely human and all, but it is very easy to forget tiny details like that when it is five o'clock in the morning and, for the past seven hours, you have done nothing but jog around not only La Push, but the Cullen turf-the new treaty had no boundaries-being forced to smell the burning stench of vampire and listen to the thoughts of the same person.

Wait. Scratch that. That could occasionally be useful. You know, when that person is thinking thoughts full of malice about the sole reason for your existence, it can actually be useful. Jacob hadn't meant to think of Cathryn, I could tell. he'd been careful to avoid her all night. But now, he had slipped up. Not in a huge way, just in passing, but I could feel the undercurrent of hurt and betrayel at her name. What about Cat? I demanded.

Ugh. Jacob seethed in silence as I read his memory. Renesmee, all in a tizzy about something Cathryn had done. I waitied, listening, as Nessie relayed the story of her sleepover. Cat, it seemed, had a new boyfriend. I concentrated very carefully on my breathing.

Its that Ethan guy. The one she said was cute that one time at Emily's restauraunt. Remember? Jacob asked me.

Not really. It didn't matter to me who was ripping out my heart and squashing it into a pulp, only that someone was doing it. And anyway, how was I supposed to remember all the guys Cat had mentioned to me and I had been irrationally jealous of?

I stumbled as something nerw occurred to me. Why hadn't she said anything? Accoding to Jacob-Nessie-whichever- She was supposed to have gone out with him tonight. I'd seen her plently in the time since he'd asked her out. Chances were, she hadn't said anything because she knew exactly how I would react. I would be angry. Overprotective. An all around duesh. Still, if she just planned on it being one date, she wouldn't have cared. She must really like this guy. I groaned internally as a knot the size of a beach ball settled itself in the pit of my stomach, making itself comfortable for its duration there. Which would last until they broke up.

God. I had barely survived her last relationship, how was I supposed to make it through another one?

Chapter 36 Bilingual

Cathryn's POV

Ethan had told me that there was a new restauraunt that he wanted to check out. What he hadn't told me was that the place was quite possibly the world's fanciest Chinese place. It had two levels, the staircase made of deep, heavy oak, just like the tables and booths. It was dark and spacious, the only lights coming from small lamps covered by some sort of red fabric, causing the place to have a romantic, rosy hue to it. I felt distictly out of place in my shorts and green v-neck. It seemed that evry one else that was there was dressed impecably, in just the sorts of outfits that I would relinquish my ipod to Cocoa before wearing. Okay, no. I woudn't do that. But close, anyway. However, if the tiny, asian woman that lead us to our both-in the very back corner of the room, otherwise known as the 'makeout table'-noticed my inapropriate attire, she didn't let on. She just placed our menues in front of us and scurried away, her steps being made smaller by the black kimono she, along with the rest of the waitresses, was wearing.

"Cool place," I said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I like to let people think I'm at least a little nice when they first meet me. Especially when that person is my future boyfriend.

Ethan, however, raised an eyebrow. "It seems a bit much," He confessed. "I didn't think it would be like this."

"Don't worry," I told him. "Its cool."

And with that, we looked down at our menues. Which was when we noticed this: that the menues? Yeah, they were in Chinese. I stared at it for a full minute, trying to make sence of the unfamiliar squiggles and dashes that made up my supper. "Ah...Ethan?"

"Don't ask." Ethan said flatly. "I can't read it either."

"Wonderful." This time, I let the sarcasm seep into my tone.

We spent the next ten minutes turning the menues inside out, trying to find something in english., or at least some pictures of their best dishes. But of course, their weren't any. So we put the miniskule amount of chinese writing we knerw to good use, carfully combing the pages for any symballs we recognised. It was really too bad that there weren't many dishes that involved the words rain, love, and light. After discovering that we desperately needed to broaden our foreign vocabularies, we ditched the place for the more familiar Mickey D's across the street for Big Macs.

Then Ethan called his brother-he wasn't old enough for a drivers licence, like me- and he drove us home. We didn't say a whole lot, he just turned the radio on and let the music fill the car up. It wasn't my favorite staion, or even a familiar one, as Embry wasn't entirely fond of Ethan's brand of music either, but it was sound. Better than the thick silence which I was sure would have eveloped the car had the radio been turned off. Not that Ethan and I weren't getting along. We were. But we didn't really have mutual friend ships, or even remotely know the same people, so after making fun of the Chinse restauraunt and discussing what we thought high school would be like, we pretty much didn't have a whole lot to talk about. But that was cool. I think both of us expected as much. We'd have more to talk about as we dated more, got to know each other better.

Ethan's brother pulled up to my driveway and Ethan got out. He opened the door for me. I was still for a moment, shocked, before smiling and getting out. Hart had never been polite around me. I had never really expected him to, to be honest. He had never been rude, so it had never been an issue. Still, although I didn't expect the act of chivalry, it was nice, all the same.

He walked me up the steps to my door. This time, I knew what to expect. We turned to face each other. "I...had a really good time tonight." Ethan said shyly.

"Me, too." I said, smiling because it was expected of me in this situation. But on the inside I was projectile vomiting at how cliche the words sounded. How many times had I heard that line delivered in movies?

He leaned in slowly, and his lips brushed mine. It was a slow kiss, and very gentle. The total opposite of Hart's kisses, during which he basically mashed his face up against mine and chomped on my lips. I smiled and closed my eyes, enjoying the moment. When it was over, I opened my front door and escaped inside, permitting myself a quick fist-pump. Aside from his kiss, which could have been a bit stronger and more original, the date had gone perfectly. Just like a date should be. And I'd teach him to get rougher.