Ok so this chapter continues directly right after what happens in chapter 3. Anyway, enjoy

Eli's POV

I know I'm nervous, but I didn't think I was this nervous. "Hey." She turned and looked at me like I had lobsters coming out of my ears, but then she smiled. "Hey." "You ready to go?" I asked. "Uh, yeah, but we're going to need to take your car because I walk home and I don't think you want to walk all the way to my house then all the way back here." It's kind of cute how she babbles every once in a while. "Yeah, that's fine." We walk outside over to Morty. Once she sees Morty, she stops. "Are you ok?" She shakes her thoughts out of her head and looks up at me. "Uh, yeah, I just forgot you drove a hearse." Just when I was starting to think this girl wasn't all that bad, she starts dissing Morty. "Is there a problem?" "No, I've just never been in a hearse before." "Sure…" she rolls her eyes. I smirk. We get in to Morty. I put the keys in the ignition and start the engine. My favorite song starts playing. Clare looks at me and says, "Really?" "What?" I retort. "Can you turn it down?" I rolled my eyes and turned it down. "Thanks," she mumbled. We got to Clare's house and walked inside. "Hello?" She yelled as she was making sure no one was home. "Ok, we can just work in the kitchen." I walked in and set my stuff down. I sat down at the table. Clare grabbed a glass of water and sat down. "Did you want anything?" she asked me. "No thanks, I'm good." "Alright, well, who do you want to do the project on?" "I was thinking we could do it on Edgar Allan Poe." "Dark, tortured and scary. Hmm, ok, but we can't make this project depressing or anything." There's that smile again. "No, promises…" She then glared at me. I smirked, "What? He is a depressing person. Some people even say that's how he died." "Fine, I'll go get some stuff for the poster." She got up and went to get some stuff for the project. When she left, I got a text. I pulled my phone out and saw that it was from Adam. Oh, this should be interesting. I pressed 'view'.

Adam: So, how's it going with Clare? ; )

Eli: You really do have brain damage

Adam: Aw is someone's date not going expected?

Eli: Wow, really?

Adam: so what stage of your plan are you at now?

Eli: Don't you mean your plan?

Adam: My plan, your plan, doesn't matter. So, what are we talking? Flirting, poetry, brushing your hand against hers, or smirking?

Eli: You are really letting this go to your head. Anyway, I gotta go.

Adam: Have fun, but not too much fun ; )

Clare came back with a poster board, markers and her lap top. "So, how do you want to decorate the poster?" she asked. "Uh, how about you decorate and I'll write the essay part?" I threw my charming smile at her. "Aw, look who's being sexist." "Me? Being sexist? No, I'm more of the 'I like to mess with people' kind of person." "Whatever, let's just get this project over with." She turned on her computer and we started writing the essay. Once we finished, we started decorating the poster. I reached out to grab a black marker, when I felt something that wasn't a marker. I looked up to see what I touched. It was Clare's hand. I felt like I was frozen. I looked up at her and we locked eyes with each other. Her eyes were like two sparkling pools of blue. Wait…was I seriously getting lost in her eyes? Was my hand still on hers? I quickly pulled my hand away and accidentally knocked her water over. Luckily, it didn't get on the project, but it did get all over Clare. Clare gasped and stood up. "I know I'm supposed to be that guy that doesn't care about anybody, but I'm so sorry. I honestly didn't mean to do that." She looked down at the mess I made on her. "Uh, it's ok. I'm just going to go change. I'll be right back." Smooth Eli, just smooth. Clare went upstairs. I just sat there, trying to figure out what just happened. Was it what I thought it was? Was I falling for Clare? I can't! I was supposed to hate Clare. At least…. I thought I was supposed to; that was until Clare walked back down stairs. She had changed her shirt into a Dead Hand shirt. Why did she have a Dead Hand shirt? There was no possible way she liked Dead Hand. She most likely liked that Justin Bieber crap. "Eli?" she asked, interrupting my thoughts. "Huh?" "Are you ok?" "Yeah, just thinking about something." There was an awkward pause. It was just Clare and I standing and staring at each other. "So….you like Dead Hand?" I finally asked. She looked down at her shirt and pulled at it. "Yeah, they're like my favorite band." She smiled. "Wait," her head snapped up. "What'd you think I listen to?" she asked. "You know, that Justin Bieber crap." "Wow, talk about judging a book by its cover." "Sorry, it just seemed like it." "No, it's ok. I just don't really consider Bieber real music." All of a sudden, I really like her. "Finally, someone sees the light!" "I know right! Every girl in the world falls over him like he has the voice of an angel. Like his lyrics actually mean anything." That was not what I expected. "It's like if they really wanted to hear a chipmunk sing they might as well listen to Alvin and the Chipmunks." Clare giggled. "I like your laugh." I smiled, which made her blush. She then looked down. Crap! Was that too up front? Why did I care? I can't get too close with her. I looked down,"Sorry." "It's ok. We should probably go upstairs. My parents will be home soon." We picked up our stuff and headed upstairs. When we stepped into Clare's room, it was pretty much exactly how I pictured. Not that I thought about her room or anything… She had gold yellow walls, a Dead Hand poster, a dark wooden desk, some academic trophies, and a queen size bed with dark pink and yellow floral bed spread. "Wow." She turned to face me. "What?" "Seeing your room has just put my view of you in a whole new perspective." I say sarcastically. "And what is this new 'perspective'?" "Two words. Bad. Ass." I smirked. She laughed. "And what made you view innocent me as that? Was it the spelling bee trophy or my perfect attendance award?" "Oh, definitely, the perfect attendance." We laughed. There was an awkward silence. I stood there trying not to make eye contact with her, but I couldn't help myself. Her eyes were like the most beautiful mosaics perfectly placed on her face. I absolutely felt like I lost my mind whenever she was nervous and bit her lip. Man, I really want to kiss those lips, but I can't… "Do you want to just sit on the floor?" she finally said. "What?" "You know, to finish the project?" I looked down at the carpeted floor then back up at her. "Sure….." We both sat down and continued to work on the project. She looked down at the poster and continued to decorate it. I can't believe I'm falling for her. She slowly looked up from her work and looked up at me. I smiled. Wow, I think this is the most I've smiled in long time. A curl fell in front of her face and she blushed. She tried to swipe the curl out of her face, but it snuck its way back in her face, again. I slowly reached over and moved the curl away from her face and started to lean in. I was about to do the last thing I should do, but in this moment, I didn't care. She leaned too. There was about three inches between our faces, when we heard glass shatter down stairs. She closed her eyes and sighed out of frustration. "Really?" she whispered. "What was that?" I was ready to grab the first weapon like object I could find and beat whatever just made that noise. "It's ok. It's just…." She trailed off. "Clare? What is it?" She took a deep breath and sighed. I was now really concerned, which surprised me, since I only met her yesterday. "It's just my parents." "Your parents? Are they fighting or something?" I then realized I probably should have dropped it. She leaned far away from me. "Look, I don't want to talk about it! So can we just drop it, ok?" She really didn't feel the need to hold back on me did she? "Ok." We continued to work on the project, but were interrupted again. We both heard yelling and fighting downstairs. Clare and I both looked up and she looked at her door and rolled her eyes. She stood up and opened the door. She turned back and looked at me, "I'll be right back." Her face was serious. She turned and left to go down stairs. Next thing I know I hear yelling, Clare yelling. She was almost screaming. I couldn't make out what was happening, but her parents obviously did something that pushed her over the edge. I wonder what was happening….

Clare's POV

After I left Eli in my room, I started walking down stairs. I wasn't paying attention and stepped on something sharp. I felt the worst pain in my foot. I lifted my foot and took a shard of glass out of it. I looked down at what I stepped on. Was it what I thought? I crouched down to get a better look, trying not to put too much pressure on my foot. It was a plate I had made and given my parents for Christmas when I was in first grade. I started to feel my eyes fill with tears and anger. I limped around the corner into the kitchen, where my parents were. They were so wrapped up in yelling at each other that they didn't even notice me standing there. Bleeding. "Can someone help me with my foot?" I calmly said. Nothing. They still didn't notice me. "STOP IT!" My parents stopped fighting and looked over at me. I was still holding half of the plate. I looked down at it and felt a tear stream down my face. "You know, I thought you guys would have at least thought or realized what you were throwing until you threw it. Or have you not even realized it yet?" I looked up at their silent faces and set the piece of plate on the counter. "You see this?" I pointed at the plate. "This is my heart. Broken, torn and apparently, not important enough to be cared for, but then again, yelling is more important." I walked over to the cabinets. I opened one of the cabinets and grabbed a box of bandages and a paper towel. I left them stunned. I walked back upstairs and into my room; not caring that I was leaving a trail of blood. Eli was just sitting there with a confused look on his face. I had more tears in my eyes. I was praying that Eli wouldn't say one of his jerky comments. I was on the verge of breaking down and he was the last person I wanted to see me like that. "Uh, so, we just have to finish gluing picture on then we're done," I said and sniffled. "Uh, cool." I hopped on one foot over to where I was sitting and sat on the floor. "What happened to your foot?" Did all the yelling cause me ear damage or did Eli actually sound like he cared? I looked down at my foot, took the paper towel and wiped the blood off. Not that it made a difference; this cut was obviously not going to stop bleeding. "Oh, I stepped on some glass." I took the paper towel and attempted to wipe my cut off again, but there was no use. "That cuts not going to stop bleeding unless you put pressure on it and that paper towel can only do so much." I looked down at the paper towel that was almost covered in my foot blood. He was right, but I didn't have anything upstairs to help and I really did not want to go back down stairs. Eli then looked down at his wrist and took off a black bandana wrapped around his wrist. Then he got up and sat next to my foot. "Here," he said, wrapping my cut in his black bandana. "Let the bandana put pressure on your cut for a while then I'll clean it." "Why are you doing this?" "I'm just trying to help." "Yeah, but do you even care?" Eli took a deep breath. "Believe it or not, but I do. I do care." "Why?" "I don't know. There's just…something about you that takes over me." "Well you had a funny way of showing it yesterday." "I'm really sorry about that. I had no right to treat you like that." "It's fine." "No, it's not. I was a…" "Jerk? Stuck up pig?" "I was going to say ass, but you made your point." "Oh, that works too." "Ok, ok, I get it I was a jerk." I looked deep in his eyes. I couldn't tell you how bad I wanted to run my fingers through his wavy dark brown hair. His hand brushed mine. I started to feel nervous. Did he really just give me butterflies? Then his phone vibrated. He pulled it out and checked it. "Um, I gotta go." "Wait, what time is it?" "It's ten." "Let me see if the coast is clear. I don't want…I'll be right back." I got up and limped out of my room. My parents were in their room. I walked back into my room and waved Eli over. Eli got up and grabbed his stuff. We walked down stairs. "Watch out for the glass," I warned. We walked around it and walked to the front door. I slowly opened the front door and we stepped outside. We stood there in silence. He looked down at his feet. "I guess I won't have a chance to clean your foot." I looked down at the bandana around my foot. He was right. "Oh," I didn't really know what to say. "It's ok. I can clean it." "You sure?" "I think I can clean my cut." "Think?" he smirked. What was up with this guy and smirking? Honestly, there wasn't one second where he wasn't. I rolled my eyes. He spoke again, "Ok…..just try not to hurt yourself, ok?" "Fine….." I smiled. He smiled, "Anyway, I should go." "Yeah." "I'll see you tomorrow." He walked away, climbed into his hearse and drove away. I quietly walked back inside and snuck back upstairs. I went into my bathroom and turned on the faucet of the bathtub. Once the water was perfect temperature, I grabbed a wash cloth and soaked it in the water. I sat on the edge of the tub and lifted my foot. I gently unwrapped my foot. Surprisingly, my foot had stopped bleeding only after a short amount of time with the bandana on it. I placed Eli's bandana by my sink and grabbed the soaked wash cloth. I dabbed my cut with the wash cloth. It stung, a lot. Then after a while, it started to feel better. Once I finished washing my cut, I took a bandage and stuck it over my cut. I then grabbed Eli's bandana and threw it in the washing machine. I had decided that I should give it back to him tomorrow, but should wash it first since it would be really gross if I give it back with my foot blood on it. After I washed it, I hung it out to dry. I put my pajamas on and crawled into bed. What a week! And to think it's not even over yet….