A/N: Hello all you fanfiction readers out there. This is my first fanfiction so there may be a few mistakes so I just want to apologize in advance. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and perhaps maybe leave me a, oh I don't know... a review. ;)

Clare Edwards, working at the bar was like being stuck at home doing a history project while all your friends go out to see the latest Twilight movie with two beautiful guys to drool over. So in other words, working at the bar was terrible.

Of course Clare would try not to complain, but her mumbles and grumbles would always be heard no matter how hard she was trying to stop her voice from forming words which begged her for freedom. Sometimes she'd give in, sometimes she'd go red and shake trying to hold back.

Clare recalled the days when people thought she would go to University of Toronto, persuade her dreams of getting a degree for English and become a famous journalist or writer.

EPIC FAIL!

Nothing like that really happened. Her parents just so "decided to get a divorce" during her final year of high school. Her dad got full custody since her mom wanted to go join Darcy in Kenya. Although Clare's dad was a lawyer, he was just merely a community lawyer. It was hard paying bills for their apartment that Clare couldn't afford to go to a university.

This basically led to no amazing college, or university. With her scholarship money, she decided to go to a local community college. That way, at least she wouldn't have to worry about dorm money and she'd be able to help her dad out financially and emotionally.

Of course Clare was upset, but she learned that life wouldn't always go your way. You'd be damned from happiness and joy if all your plans turned out exactly how you expected them to. And what's the point if you would be damned and fucked up anyway?

So maybe she wasn't upset the whole future thing, but she was upset about working at the bar. The crappy old bar which apparently people said served the best beer. And on Friday evenings, Clare prepared herself for the worst work shift in the history of worst work shifts.

"Clare, you'd better be serving those beers because if I come out there and see you sitting in the banged up old chair, well then, you're fired," Peter scolded. He immediately heard what sounded like a chair was knocked over, a loud gasp and scurrying footsteps. That's better, he thought to himself with a grin.

Clare knew that Peter only joked about firing her to get her to work but she couldn't help but feel like she owed him. After what happened with Darcy and how she left with barely a few words, always made Clare feel guilt. It was guilt which described how sad Peter must've been to watch his girlfriend leave.

Clare knew she was one of the hardest working people at the bar, and Peter only joked about firing her because she felt like family to him. He wouldn't say it to the other servers and although that ticked her off on some level, she tried not to let it get to her.

Suddenly, a chime was heard indicating another customer had arrived. When she looked up, she let out a groan. She had almost forgotten. Friday evenings meant HE was coming. She tried to occupy herself so she wouldn't have to serve him.

Of course, Bianca was known for ruining what Clare hoped would happen. "Edwards, there's another customer!" she shouted.

"I'm just organizing these glasses. The display wouldn't look so good if the wine glass-," she began until she was rudely cut off.

"I don't give a darn about those freaking wine glasses. I'm already serving 3 customers and the least you could do, is serve one," Bianca proceeded in saying.

With and sigh she mumbled out, "Fine."

Clare ran her fingers through her auburn locks and made her way to HIM. With a fake smile she gritted out, "How may I help you, SIR?"

"Well for one, you could start by changing out of those dead ugly clothes and trying to look a bit more presentable before serving me or asking for my order in this case," he responded with an arrogant smirk.

That smirk; she couldn't stand that smirk. And she didn't get how it made girls swoon after him because it wasn't even all that attractive.

"Ugh, can you just freaking order cuz' I don't have all day," she huffed out.

With an angry glare and a more pronounced smirk, he asked, "So tell me, why Peter must let brats incapable of polite conversation work at the bar?"

She frowned at this and closed her eyes trying to count to 10 with deep breaths. Inhale, 1, Exhale, 2, Inhale, 3, Exhale, 4, Inha-

"Okay, cut out your stupid breathing exercises. This isn't yoga class you know," he carried on.

This just made her lose train of thought. Screw calming down, Clare thought to herself. She then used the tactic which would make her be the one in power and this man, no wait, this boy, no wait, this child, no wait, this...this THING cringe.

"Well played ELIJAH," she said with each syllable pronounced. And sure enough, she got to see his expression go from smug to cringing to the wince he tried to keep from coming onto his face.

"Just get me a beer Edwards," Elijah ordered while rolling his eyes.

Clare made her way back to the counter and smiled to herself. She had wiped the smirk right off his face and that felt like an accomplishment itself. Luckily it was time for her shift to end so after giving the THING its drink, Clare grabbed her stuff and went off to give Peter her farewell.

"Take care Clare. I'll see you Monday," he spoke with a wave.

She responded with a, "You too. Have a good weekend."

Clare took off and once she got out of that rusty excuse for a bar, she headed off to her home. Walks home would mean thoughts. She'd have all kinds of thoughts clouding her mind. Sometimes they'd be happy thoughts like those of her and her dad watching scary movies every Saturday night to bond more. Sometimes they'd be angry and sad thoughts like the time her mom said she'd rather go to Kenya than stay in Canada and deal with crap.

Today however, her thoughts went to a particular someone. Elijah Goldworthy. The boy who preferred to be called Eli but Clare liked to tick him off from time to time. Although Clare could not stand Eli, she liked being around him. Arguments with him meant she could use actual vocabulary rather than childish language. She hated to admit this but even she couldn't deny the fact that Eli was an outstanding writer.

His parents worked and both of them were together but they couldn't afford to pay for his education so like Clare, he also went to a community college with his scholarship money. In fact, it was he who suggested what Clare should do with her money. That was probably the only time they had an actual decent conversation which went from useless fighting to helpful advice.

"You know, next time you try to cook, make sure you pay attention to what you're doing," Eli screeched out.

"It was an honest mistake. How was I supposed to know that flames would burst out while I went to get my textbook from my room?" she argued back.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah that's right, you're not analytic at all. I forgot you weren't capable noticing something as crucial as a fire!"

Clare couldn't stand him and she was most certainly not going to just sit back and let him make false assumptions about her.

"I am very analytic. I am also capable of doing all this cooking, taking care of this place when my dad isn't here and being there for him. I'm capable of doing everything you think I can't do!" she fired.

Somehow, his comment made her feel as if she was some brat who had no education. No one had ever thought of Clare as stupid and even though Eli was just trying to strike a nerve, she didn't want him to think of her in that way.

Eli had looked a little shocked by her last statement. He had just come to her apartment which she shared with her father to help get rid of the fire. According to Clare, she had gone to get a book from her room with the stove left on and when she came back, boom, fire.

Her screams had awakened Eli from his nap and he had run out his apartment which was right across from hers and banged on hers. He remembered feeling panicked especially after he smelled the smoke. Although he and Clare didn't get along very well, he didn't want to just ignore her and leave her alone with her problem.

After Clare responded to his knocks by opening the door, Eli poured a jug of cold water to wash out the small flames and everything was okay. But then, he just had to open his mouth and say smart-ass comments to annoy her.

Clare took Eli's silence a moment to calm down and was now breathing shakily. She was looking at the floor but could feel his penetrating gaze on her. This made her feel slightly self conscious. Eli's stares had that affect on her. He'd look at someone as if calculating their personality that it felt important to keep her guard up in from of him.

After what seemed like hours, Eli broke the silence. "So, you're a writer huh?" he asked tentatively as if wondering which way he should approach her.

Clare looked at him with wide eyes in shock. "Well not a writer but I'd like to be one. How did you know?"

Eli chuckled and shrugged. "Most people I argue with usually don't know what "analytic" means so I just assumed...," he trailed off.

"Yeah well, I doubt I'll ever be a writer. I can barely afford a dorm and the only university I applied to was Trent. I can't go there unless I have a place to live," she said softly.

Meeting his gaze, she noticed Eli take a step closer to her. He reached around her to grab a napkin to wipe his hands.

"Why not spend it on community college?" he suggested.

Clare scoffed before even considering his idea. "What good is that going to do?"

"If you're so capable of doing everything, then maybe it wouldn't matter where you studied. If you try your best, maybe you'll go just as far in life as you would've if you went to university. But hey, what do I know? I'm just a guy spending his scholarship money on community college because his parents can't afford to pay for his education," Eli shrugged.

He threw the napkin back on the kitchen counter and made his way towards the door. Just as he was going to step out, "Wait Eli, you're right. I should spend that money on education. So, thank you," Clare admitted.

He turned around and gave her a small smirk. "Whatever Edwards," he said before leaving.

Clare heaved a sigh before as she approached her door. She looked at the apartment door across from hers and immediately smiled. Maybe Eli wasn't such a bad guy after all. She just had to get to know him a bit more first.