Chapter Three

"Hey Sarah," Quil greeted Claire's mother as he made his way into her cozy home.

"Hello Quil," Sarah said with a smile. He quickly made his way into the kitchen poking his head around, looking for Claire. "She's upstairs with a friend."

Ah. Sarah knew him all too well.

Quil turned around at the sound of an opening oven and his mouth watered at the smell of Sarah's amazing chocolate chip cookies. Nestle had nothing on this woman.

"Okay," he said. "I'll just take some of these up to Claire and her friend." Quickly, he grabbed several hot cookies off the rack and didn't miss Sarah rolling her eyes at him.

"Claire's friend is allergic to chocolate. So don't worry about him."

"What?" Quil shouted with his mouth already full of melting chocolate chips and hot dough. "Allergic to chocolate? What kind of demon kid is this?"

Sarah smirked and shook her head.

"Wait." He hated it when it took his ears a little longer to catch up with his brain. "He?" Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no! "It's not that Derrick kid is it?"

"Oh you mean Claire's boyfriend?" Sarah asked, smiling wickedly. She tossed her long black hair over her shoulder and folded her arms across her chest. She really hadn't expected to have so much fun teasing Quil about it. She might take this whole situation a little bit seriously if her daughter was oh say- ten years older and taking Chemistry and American Literature.

"Don't call him that!" Quil yelled. "He's just a boy who's a friend-"

"That Claire talks about constantly and even refers to him as her boyfriend," she interrupted.

Claire's mother could be so cruel when she wanted to be.

Shoving another whole cookie into his mouth and shooting a glare at Sarah he heard hurried footsteps were making their way down the stairs. Turning his head to see his lips curled into a snarl at the sight of Claire's boyfriend.

"No!" the little brat shouted. "I don't want to!"

"Well then fine!" Claire yelled from the top of the stairs. "I don't want you to anyways! Get out of my house!" She hiccupped and wiped her sleeve at her eyes.

Oh yeah, he was so going to kill this boy.

The door slammed behind him before Quil had time to react.

"Where is he going?" Sarah muttered. "Quil? Will you watch Claire? I have to go drive him home."

"Let him walk."

"Kidnappers. Murders. Bloodsuckers." She reminded him.

"He can run fast, can't he?"

"You're awful, Quil," she told him patting him on the back.

As the front door shut Claire gave out a wail and raced back to her room. Quil's heart almost broke for her. Almost. There was a bright side to this after all. That two-faced little rugrat was never coming around here ever again.

You're evil Quil Ateara, pure evil.

In a flash Quil was up the stairs and at Claire's door.


Thud. Thud.

"Claire?" Quil asked, leaning his head on her pink door. "Are you okay?"


"Claire? What are you doing? Your mom will be really mad if you break something."


"Stupid- buttface- my Barbie- don't care-," were the only words Quil could catch Claire muttering.

"Claire? Can I come in?"

He didn't receive an answer.

"Okay. I'm coming in. Don't throw anything at me. I'd hate to have to retaliate," Quil told her. He was only half-joking.

Turning the knob and tentatively pushing the door open he noticed half dressed barbies strewn about her very tidy room. His Claire was the cleanest person he had ever met. He had no idea how a 6-year-old could keep their room so neat and organized. Which could only mean that the barbies had been used in Claire's attempt to beat the door down.

He quickly spotted Claire sitting on the floor, leaning against her bed with her face pushed up against her bed's comforter.

"Were the barbies trash talking you again?" Quil asked. Leaning down he picked two of Claire's beat up barbies and held them to eye level.

"Barbie," he said sternly. "Theresa. You two know better than to talk smack to my girl. Don't act like we haven't talked about this, because we have. I remember. It was over tea and sugar cookies. Mmhmm. Those were the best sugar cookies I've ever tasted."

Claire giggled.

"Why are you talking to my barbies?" She asked. There were dried tear stains on her cheeks and her brilliant smile revealed the adorable gap she had on the top row of her teeth, right smack dab in the middle.

"Well, I had to explain to them-" Claire interrupted with a louder giggle.

"You're so funny, Quil. They're barbies! They're not real." She picked herself up off her spot on the ground and walked over to him, taking the barbies out of his hands. She threw them to her left and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I don't think Theresa and Barbie appreciated that."

Claire ignored him.

"I hate Derrick," she muttered.

Quil really hoped the happiness that was bursting through his chest wasn't showing on his face.

"Aw, why pumpkin?"


"Because why?"

Claire jutted her bottom lip out and gave a loud sigh that shook her shoulders.

"Because he hates my barbies."

Quil just had to smile at that. He hated her barbies too, but he'd do anything to make Claire happy. If that meant giving Barbie a new hairdo for her hot date with Ken, then so be it.

"Did he say that?"

"Yeah! He said that he didn't want to play with my barbies! He said they were stupid and girlie. And then I said he couldn't be my boyfriend if he didn't play with my barbies! And then he said fine! And then he left like the big baby he is."

"Aw, come here Claire Bear."

Claire stepped closer and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. He wrapped her up in a hug and smoothed his hand in tiny circles over her back, trying to squash the hiccups.

"I hate having a boyfriend," Claire muttered in his ear.

"Yeah, they're too much trouble," he whispered in hers.

"Yeah. They're so not worth it."

"Claire!" Sarah called from downstairs.

"Yes?" Claire yelled back.

"Come down here for a minute!"

"Go ahead," Quil told her, smoothing down her ruffled hair. "I'll pick up your abused barbies. Don't be surprised if they stage a revolt on you."

Claire giggled and ran past him, down the stairs.

If he had known what was going to happen he so would not have stayed to pick up the stupid, half-naked barbies. He would have gone down the stairs and been the little devil in Claire's ear telling her that Derrick was a liar and that she couldn't trust him.

But he wasn't there. And Derrick did apologize and did tell her that he was sorry. And he did tell her that he wanted to play with her barbies because she was just the best girlfriend he had ever had.

How he hated Derrick Hoover.

Quil sulked in the living room reclining chair as he listened to Claire and Derrick playing happily with Barbie and Theresa.

Sarah walked into the living room with a plate of cookies and a huge grin plastered to her face.

"You just couldn't let him leave, could you?" Quil asked scornfully. He glared daggers and death from under his eyelashes.

"Why of course not," Sarah said not letting her grin falter. "What kind of mother would I be if I let my daughter's boyfriend walk out of this house and out of her life and not do anything to stop him? I just had to fix it."

Quil shook his head and another shriek of laughter traveled down the stairs and up to Quil's ears.

"Oh how I hate you."

"Such bitterness. Eat a cookie. The sweetness will water it down."

A/N: Poor, poor Quil. Just when he thinks he's got a break- he's wrong. I hope you guys all liked Chapter 3! Review? Please? On another note, we're coming to the end of Of Peanut Butter & Jelly. Only 2 more chapters left.