Author's Note:

I am literally peeing my pants right now! Why, you ask? The Hunger Games came out today, and I watched it. Yes, you heard me. I absolutely loved it. And I thought I would share that with you guys because I'm sure many of you have read the books, and are avid fans like me. I refuse to give any spoilers to you, but just wanted to reccomend it to anyone. I honestly don't think I will be able to survive until the next one comes out. I'll probably shrivel up and die.

Okay, the Hunger Games were epic, but we all know why your here. Quil and Claire. Moving on...

I'm back with a new chapter, and I want more reviews! I love to read them, and it keeps me motivated to write more. Please review! As always, thanks for the reviews I have been getting... I love you guys. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Happy Reading!

I apparently do not own anything related to Twilight. Such a shame.

Cuz I am giving up on making passes

And I am giving up on half empty glasses

And I am giving up on greener grasses

I am giving up

-Ingrid Michaelson, Giving Up

Ch.5 Giving Up

His eyes were glossy pools of chocolate, welling up with the salty tears. His full lips were frowning, sending depressive shock waves through me. He had an innocent look to his face, almost as if he were a child, rather than a six-foot-plus colossal werewolf.

And the worst part was, I actually felt bad for getting engaged. I was sorry that I had done anything to hurt this man from my childhood. And I had no clue why.

I glanced around at everyone's russet faces, unsure of what exactly was going on and what to say to anyone. Their heads were all facing the ground now, their expressions dismal, as if my being engaged was the worst news they'd ever received. Why was everyone acting this way? What did I say wrong?

I was about to ask him, utterly confused to the reactions I was getting, but as I looked over to his face, the sad tears were nowhere to be seen. His eyes were now cold and nearly black, and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Suddenly, he pushed himself off the log forcefully with a livid growl, leaving it shaking under me violently. I jumped at the sudden outburst, and finally looked over to find him. But all I caught was a glimpse of copper skin darting away from me into the black darkness of the night, headed in the direction of the woods outlying the boundaries of the yard.

What should I say? Why were they acting this way? Why was he acting this way? Aren't weddings supposed to be joyous occasions? Aren't relatives supposed to be cheering and gossiping with me right now?

The loud silence lasted for a good five minutes, allowing me plenty of time to sort through any possible theories relating to the cause of the responses I was receiving. Not many of my considered possibilities made much sense though. Actually, none of them did.

Finally, Sam stood up, his broad shoulders giving off an strong air of leadership as he forced a phony smile on his face, most likely for my benefit. Everyone's down-turned heads gradually rose to look in his direction, obediently following his dominating voice. Even I found myself listening intently.

"Thank you all for coming. I'll see everyone bright and early tomorrow morning." He gave a tiny nod then, signaling that the remaining wolves had permission to departure.

All of the boys responded, giving quick nods and acknowledgments in return, before heading out into the depths of the forest. It may have been me, but they seemed to clear out of there faster than I'd ever remembered them moving before. Sam slipped away speedily too, but in the direction of Quil's route. It was just Emily and I now, peering at each others faces across the wavy orange flames. She didn't meet my eyes.

"What just happened?" I asked, breaking the painful silence.

She sighed, indicating that was a question she didn't precisely want to be the one to answer.

"Your engaged." Duh, that's kind of what I just said...

"And..." I urged her on. She winced.

"It just took us by... surprise, I guess. You don't even have a ring." She glanced down at my ring finger, and I reflexively covered it with my other hand.

"He just got it finished yesterday", I defended with a scowl, but she didn't seem to notice my snappiness.

"I see." Her almond-shaped eyes were distant now, like her mind was somewhere else other than directly in front of me. What was with these people and weddings?

"Why did he storm off?" I demanded suddenly, remembering the enraged Quil stomping off towards the trees. Her eyes immediately snapped back to me, and I could tell by her face that she knew exactly who I was talking about. She let out an exasperated sigh.

"It's complicated. Your...engagement shocked him a bit."

I was gathering that. I had always thought announcing your engagement was a celebratory and blissful occasion, but apparently it was one in which people get bug-eyed and leave the first chance they get. Who would have thought? Not me, that's for sure.

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm engaged. What else do you want me to say?" I felt the sting of tears flooding to my eyes, now. I rapidly rubbed my eyes, wishing to stop them from letting the humiliating tears slide. I hated crying, it made me feel too vulnerable.

"Oh, Claire, I'm so sorry! We didn't mean to make you cry. We all just remember you as a little girl, and I think it just shook us up a bit to picture you already engaged. Our Claire-bear all grown up, you know? Please, honey, don't cry." She rushed over to me, her thin arms gripping me into a tight hug, while lightly brushing my hair with her slender fingers, as I let the final strings holding me together loose.

I sat there, with Emily, crying like a whiny child in her arms, for hours, probably. As much as I wanted to stop, wipe my eyes, and get over it, I couldn't. It was like I had no control over my feelings or emotions anymore. I eventually fell asleep apparently, at who knows what time.

Sam must have carried me to my bedroom, because the next morning I awoke to the wood-paneled walls, spotted with intricate needle point art and cheesy family photography. There was no sun in the gray, sullen sky today, and pounding rain poured down endlessly, the weather matching my mood. My eyes were swollen and red-rimmed, a product of all the immature crying. I felt ashamed now, thinking back to my childish sobbing.

Emily was around the house all day, finding odd things to entertain the kids that were too young to go to school yet. I mostly alternated between laying on the couch, and sleeping in my bed. Any other activities seemed near to impossible. But, doing absolutely nothing physically all day did give me time to think. A lot.

I thought about how easy it would be to just get on a plane right now and fly back to Boston. I would be able to see Dylan's face in less than ten hours, and feel his comforting arms around me. I could go home and sleep in my California King bed, undisturbed by children's squeals and laughs. I could sip expensive red wine from a crystal wine glass, letting the cool liquid bring me to a state of tranquility. I could gaze out at my breathtaking skyline view of the city night lights. It was all too tempting.

I thought about the wolves and Emily, and how much their bitter reactions had hurt me. I had never imagined that their opinions would matter to me either way, let alone their mere reactions to my news. But they had crushed me more than I could explain.

I also thought about Quil, and his two-sided reaction to my announcement. First, he was crying like a baby, and the sympathy I had felt for him was overly intense, especially for a friend you hadn't seen in thirteen years. I replayed his angered outburst in my head again, trying to connect the dots between the two peculiar reactions. Everyone else had just looked sullen and shocked.

But he had gotten tortured tears in his puppy-dog eyes, and they soon quickly turned to angry fury as he tore off for the forest looking like he was ready to literally tear someones head off. Why? Why was he so upset over my engagement? I couldn't come up with one good reason for his actions.

Then I fumed to myself. What gave him the right to make me cry? And over my own wedding? He was selfish, he was rude, and he was a terrible best friend. Well, ex-best friend.

In fact, what gave any of them a right to an opinion on my engagment. I hadn't seen any of them in thirteen years. They're lucky I even came here to invite them.

I went to sleep that night with a million different thoughts running through my head, and a million different feelings pulling me different directions. I could only be sure of one thing, and that was that I had no clue what I was going to do.

By the next morning, my fourth morning in La Push, I had come to my well-thought-out decision. It had took me all night to process it, and weigh the cons and pros, but I had ultimately reached it. I was leaving. Today.

I called the airport in Seattle first thing after waking up, and purchased the earliest one-way ticket back to Boston I could get. Then I called the taxi service, paying the extra amount for the taxi to come all the way to La Push to pick me up.

I knew that if I had asked, Sam or Emily would be glad to drive me, even if it was to the airport, but I really was not up for the talking in the car part. Emily would surely come up with every reason under the sun for me to stay, and finally guilt me into staying. Sam would keep apologizing over and over, and then eventually resort to complaining about how sad it would make Emily if I left, and then I would stay out of pity. And I wasn't planning on staying, so I would take the taxi. I just wanted to get out of this place, and free my mind of all the madness before I exploded.

Then, after packing up my suitcase and throwing on some clean clothes, I hobbled out into the main part of the house, preparing myself for the sure-to-be-sappy goodbyes. The final ones.

I had made an oath to myself the previous night, that I would never come back to this place again. Ever.

"Good morning Claire", Emily said, busy with constructing the kid's sack lunches. I watched silently as she scraped the peanut butter unto the fluffy white bread. Then she cut the sandwiches into little shapes, like stars and hearts. So Emily.

When she finally looked up at me, her smile faded away, "Your leaving." It wasn't a question, because she could probably read the expression on my face clearly. I wouldn't be swayed.

I nodded, and she bustled over like a true aunt and squeezed me in for a bone-crunching hug. I just waited patiently for her to finish squeezing me to death, rather than pretending I was going to miss all this. I loved Emily and all, but I could only take so much of her gooey-ooeyness before it became too much. Just like chocolate. It's great, but only in moderation. After awhile, it looses its appeal.

When she pulled out of the tight hug, tears were dripping down her defined cheekbones and her brown eyes were grief-stricken. My hands started twitching, so I squeezed them into fists by my sides.

"Claire, don't leave over our reactions, please", she pleaded with me, half-halfheartedly. She probably knew she was fighting a losing battle. She was right. A car horn honked out front.

"Taxi's here." She didn't looked surprised by my planning ahead. She gave me a final soft peck on the cheek and waved goodbye as I made my way through the downpour and into the backseat of the vehicle. I heard her yell something, but I couldn't make out the words through her whimpering sobs and the loud droplets smacking the muddy ground.

I didn't look back as the driver pulled away from Emily's house. We drove through the small town, past some of the landmarks of my childhood.

David's Diner, the place I lost my first tooth, in an apple. Quil had practically had a heart attack when he saw the blood, if I remembered correctly. He wouldn't let me eat an apple for months after that.

Wagner's Park, the playground that Quil always took me to when I was good. He would hide under the wooden bridge and pretend to be the troll. I would race across it as fast as I could, but he would never fail to catch me and tickle me to the point that I was out of breath.

And First Beach. The mother load of memories were centered here. Quil would always take me here to swim. We would have water fights, skip rocks across the waves, and on occasion scavenge for seashells. I had gone to my first bonfire here, when I was six. That was the day I first saw all the wolves phased. Quil's coat was the prettiest chocolate brown I'd ever seen.

But looking back on these memories didn't sting, at all. It felt more along the lines of closure. These places had shaped my childhood, but they weren't meant to mold my adulthood. They were meant to stay back in the past, where they belonged.

La Push may have been tough to leave thirteen years ago, but leaving now was completely painless. Off in the distance, I heard a wolf howl.