"Damn, you're good," I said from my spot jammed against the door in Quil's car. Claire sent me a blinding smile from where she sat in between Quil and I, crushed in the front seat because she insisted that it would be awkward if one of us took the back. So, like trained puppies, we did whatever Claire told us to do without complaint.
I still can't figure out how she tricked me into coming.
Quil grinned over at his imprint. "She's definitely devious."
"Am not." She rolled her eyes. "I'm just charmingly clever."
"Shut up and listen to my iPod," I told her, flicking on a song and putting on earbud in my ear as she took the other. It was so routine we didn't even have to think about it, and I didn't have to think about which music to pick. The thing about being best friends since near childhood means that we knew everything about each other, and I didn't need to ask to know if she liked the White Tie Affair. Sure, from a band formed in 2006, it was something of an oldie now, but we still enjoyed it.
And, when you're best friends, you don't judge one another's outfits. Unless you're Quil. Because he's just an ass.
"What are you wearing?" he had guffawed as I slipped through the door of my house, my mother waving to Quil and Claire in their familiarity. I gave him a look before glancing down at my outfit, which consisted of skinny jeans tucked into my Converse boots, which were pretty much Chuck Taylors that went up to my knees, a black and white striped shirt, and my usual gold oval locket with a shooting star etched into the metal dangling from my neck. I had given him a look.
"What your girlfriend is wearing," I countered, and that had ended that.
And I was right. Claire was wearing a blue and white striped shirt, black skinny jeans, with the same Converse boots. She had glared at him as effectively as I had until he apologized for laughing and kissed her forehead. Then, as usual, all was forgiven.
Claire turned to give me a look when I began to cease to recognize anything, and I had a feeling that we were nearing La Push. She rolled her eyes at my squirming and threw her arm around my shoulder, saying, "Relax, Chris. They don't bite. We're not going to a vampire lair."
Quil snorted.
"Not funny," he replied. "The Cullens weren't that bad."
"They're vampires," Claire argued, looking back at me as if he hadn't spoken. "You're just like me, they'll love you. Emily wants to see you again. She says you sound like me."
My eyes narrowed. "How much have you been talking about me around these people?"
"I let things slip every once in a while," she said as Quil replied, "A lot."
"Quil Ateara!" she moaned in annoyance, scowling over at him, which immediately made him roll his eyes at her. He might move the sun and the moon for her, but they are still the same-they love to roll their eyes when all else fails and sometimes they don't find it necessary to apologize. As you see.
"Claire Young!" he mocked.
"Quil!"
"Claire!"
"Chris!" I beamed.
They scoffed as Quil pulled to the side of the road beside another car, which must have been from his party because he hardly even paid it attention. A group of people could be seen milling around by a cliff, a small fire burning, but their attention was caught on our car for now. Quil slipped out as I did. You could tell they assumed that I was Claire because when Claire popped out of the car beside me they looked a little confused. We continued listening to my iPod and talking about how much Mrs. Smith's assignment sucked instead of paying them much attention, Quil lagging behind.
Right when we were about to reach the group, we spun around and chorused, "Like the view?"
A bunch of guys burst into laughter as Quil spared a grin, looking to his imprint just to make sure she was just joking, and relaxing considerably to see that she was grinning along with me.
There were a bunch of people gathered around the bonfire all of varying ages, it seemed-there were a couple old, a couple adults, some teenagers, and some small children-and I saw what Claire was talking about when she said that some of the wolves were still phasing. I saw one of the sixteen year old or so boys grinning and joking around with an adult that had a small girl balanced on his hip. Another girl was pregnant and throwing ketchup packets at another sixteen year old, who was yelling at her and laughing. A girl who looked one hundred percent perfect was sitting next to him and smiling, and I assumed that was who Claire called Renesmee. Nessie. The half vampire.
I shivered. It's kind of creepy.
"As you can tell," Quil called once we reached them, flopping down next to an adult male, "we're here."
The woman sitting next to the man jumped up, smiling, and I recognized her from the scars on her face. She ran forward to embrace Claire and turned to me and said, "Chris McClain, what a surprise! How are you doing?"
"I'm becoming a miserably pessimistic anarchist with a taste for 1960s furniture."
She laughed and the man joined her. "Just the same, I see. Chris, this is my husband, Sam, and over there-" she pointed to two twin girls at about six years of age chasing each other around the site "-are our girls, Jillian and Jane."
"Nice to meet you," I told Sam, pocketing my iPod. I had a feeling tonight was going to be a night full of introductions.
It was. I learned a lot of names and a lot of faces and I couldn't quite remember them all but I was always good with names, so the next time I saw them I would probably be able to recognize them.
I scoffed to myself. I was already thinking about coming back.
"Hey Jake," Quil greeted as the guy who was recently bombarded with ketchup packets courtesy of his older sister popped over, wearing a grin.
"Quil." He grinned over at Claire. "Princess Claire." He looked at me. "I don't know you."
"Chris," I said.
"My best friend," Claire contributed.
"Claire convinced her to come," Quil explained as he scooped Claire up bridal style, and I immediately jumped onto his back. He rolled his eyes. "They're a package deal."
"Jacob, I see you've met Chris," Emily replied as she wandered by. "She's a miserably pessimistic anarchist with a taste for 1960s furniture."
"My words, not hers," I told him.
The other wolf and the half bloodsucker looked amused.
Another figure stumbled up to the bonfire, shirtless and total eye-candy, and the others cheered as if he was late. The boy rolled his eyes and caught sight of Quil with Claire in his arms and me on his back and his eyebrows shot up. He started to grin as he called out, "Two better than one, Quilly?"
"You're an a-hole, Embryo," my best friend's soul mate shouted back as I jumped down from his back, Claire finally cursing him out enough to land back on her feet as he let her down. She came back to me and grabbed my wrist, immediately tugging me over to the boy. I rolled my eyes. I had this drill down-spot a wolf that hasn't imprinted yet, introduce seemingly-unsuspecting best friend to wolf, and see what happens next. I didn't have to heart to tell her that she was just going to be let down.
"Embry, this is Chris McClain, the friend I always talk about," she said, pushing me in front of her. "Chris, this is Embry Call, one of Quil's friends. Say hi, Chris."
"What am I, four?" I asked before turning to look at a politely-smiling Embry. "Hi."
"Hello-" he started, but he did what I expected him too-he accidently looked in my eyes-and he suddenly sounded like he was punched in the gut. His eyes widened. Let's just say I wasn't stupid. Or deaf.
"I KNEW IT!" Claire screamed, clapping her hands together and laughing hysterically as Embry blushed. Everyone turned to look at us. "I TOLD YOU SO!"
I resisted the urge to punch her in the nose.
