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CHAPTER TWELVE — THE BOY WHO RECEIVED A GIFT FROM THE GIRL
AGAINST EVERYTHING THAT WAS EXPECTED, PHILLIP (the same dog she had had since she was nine; the same dog who probably hated her because she had chosen to call him Phillip instead of following the nature laws and use the classic "Beethoven") seemed to like Trevor Forman— No, Phillip totally loved Trevor, just as he had made it clear at the moment that Claire arrived to the beach with his belt on her hand, after Trevor complained that she had apparently forgotten him and demanded to get a space in the busy agenda of Claire Newton.
Nor that it was true that Claire had a busy agenda, of course, but spending most of her holidays at La Push and discovering the whole secret of the magic shapeshifters had made her forgotten not about Trevor, but of all her homework instead. Mr. Stark was going to get really mad if he found out that Claire had left her homework until the last day of vacations, she was sure. So even though she wanted to visit Seth that afternoon and check his "especial condition" as Old Quil Atera (another Elder from the tribe) had called it, she spent the rest of her day working on geometry exercises, trying to erase the image of a sleepy Seth from her head, with a grumpy Phillip laying by her side.
Phillip had always been grumpy and lazy; those were his notorious characteristics, just as the classy way he and Claire threated each other: Phillip hated her, Claire loved him. He ignored her, Claire sought for his attention—they knew the dynamic of their relation. God, they'd worked on it for years. And the dog was supposed to share the same hate for Claire to the rest of the persons. The logic was fair and right.
But then he met nice and flirty Trevor Forman, who laughed when during her encounter with Claire the day before the geometry marathon, Phillip ran towards him and started licking his cheek.
You, traitor dog, Claire thought while they were sitting in the sand. Trevor was petting Phillip in that very moment, muttering sweet things as the dog accepted his gestures. Claire, in the other hand, had the seashells they had recollected together lying in the near sand, placing them in the jar she was preparing. You're not sleeping on my bed tonight.
"I can't believe my dog likes you more than he does to me!" Claire exclaimed in a grin, indignant. "I have been trying that since I was nine. Can you imagine a nine year old girl begging to obtain her dog's affection?"
Trevor smirked. "A lovely image indeed, Claire Newton."
"Tell me your secret" she demanded, frowning. Trevor raised a brow in response. "Come on, there has to be a secret."
He shrugged. "I dunno, but I guess you wouldn't believe me if I told you it's all about natural charming."
