Crave

CHAPTER 12

Tristan
I knew things were off track as soon as I saw Savannah headed my way Monday morning. She wasn't carrying her thermos cup of tea. And she was wearing the Ice Princess mask, her face cold and remote.
I tried to reassure myself that she was just having a rough morning. "Good morning, Savannah."
"Good morning."
No tea today meant no chance to hold her mug for her and touch her fingers in the process.
She opened the doors and headed upstairs, her steps brisker than usual. She didn't glance back at me on the way up, didn't pause once she reached the hallway.
She was silent as always during her morning routine of unlocking doors and grabbing equipment. But her silence was somehow different today, cooler, as if she were all business and the real Savannah wasn't even here.
"Rough morning?" I asked as we exited the building and the silence became too heavy.
"No, not really." Her lips formed a smile that looked suspiciously like the same one she'd given Dylan in history after he'd knocked her books to the floor.
Okay, obviously I'd screwed up at the game Friday night.
We entered the practice field and drew closer to the gathering dancers. But I didn't care that we'd run out of time for private talk. If I didn't apologize now, she might not give me a chance to later.
"Listen, Sav, about what I said-"
"Mister Tristan, while we are on team time, I'll have to ask you to please call me Miss Savannah. As I clearly stated before, it's the team rules, and how we show respect for one another." She didn't look at me as she spoke, her brisk stride never hesitating until she reached the edge of the fifty yard line where we always set up the sound system. "Okay, Miss Savannah." The formal address felt all wrong coming out of my mouth now. Another barrier between us. "I'm-"
She held up a hand. "We need to get to work. Let's discuss this later please."
And then she walked away to do her early-morning meeting with the team director.
Oh, yeah. I'd screwed up big-time.
I thought I'd at least get to apologize at the end of practice. But she was sneakier than I'd expected. She had one of the freshmen managers walk with me to put up the trainer bag and sound system instead. The next morning, she got to the school before me and already had the sound system set up on the field by the time I arrived. Even that wouldn't have been an obstacle, except she had the sophomore managers there with her, too.
Tuesday through Thursday's practices were more of the same, with her constantly hiding behind her managers or sending me on office errands so she could avoid being alone with me. But then Keisha told me what time Savannah had been getting there at the school each morning.
So Friday morning, I made sure to get there even earlier.
Savannah
As soon as I saw him waiting outside the foyer doors, my shoulders stiffened. I pressed my lips together. If I opened my mouth right now, this could turn ugly. I might start talking and be unable to stop. There were too many things I wanted to say to him, questions I yearned to ask. Like why couldn't he just leave me alone? Why did he have to keep on breaking my heart?
Did he feel even the slightest bit sorry for all the years he'd refused to speak to me and pretended I didn't exist?
I unlocked the doors in silence, the clicking of the lock's release echoing in the foyer. He held the door open for me, and I tried my best to squeeze past without touching him. Even as my entire body begged for the exact opposite to happen.
Anne had tried to warn me and everyone else that he was a heartless, spoiled player. I should have listened to her instead of thinking he'd changed.
My eyes burned as we crossed the shiny linoleum floor and entered the staircase, my hands shaking as I gripped the metal rail and climbed the winding stairs.
Was it some kind of game to him, messing with my heart and my mind? Was it a big joke, getting me to open up and talk to him so he could turn around and treat me like crap again? And in front of others, too. At the end of the game, no less than five Charmers had asked me what I'd said to make Tristan act like that.
What I'd said! When all I had done was try to be nice to him.
He waited until we were halfway up the stairs before speaking. "Now can we talk?"
I swallowed hard as tears filled my vision. Praying my voice wouldn't shake and give me away, I mumbled, "What about?"
"I want to apologize to you."
I froze at the third-floor landing, sure I'd heard him wrong. After a few seconds, I found the strength to push the hallway door open. Maybe this was a new part of his game.
I unlocked Mrs. Daniels's office.
He followed me inside. "Sav, I'm sorry I was rude to you. It was...hard to see my team playing without me."
Part of me melted a little at that and wanted nothing more than to turn and hug him.
But then I really thought about his words, and fury replaced the ache in my chest. Even if he'd been upset, he shouldn't have taken it out on me. He acted like he was the only person in the entire world who had ever lost something that mattered to them. Like I wasn't in his exact same position at every Charmers practice and performance, watching others do what I would give anything to be able to do, too.
Not to mention the lovely experience he'd given me twice now of making me think we were friends only to toss me aside yet again like the worthless trash he apparently thought I was.
The anger gave me the courage to swallow back the tears, turn and face him.
"You say it was hard to see your team play without you." Just talking hurt my throat, it was so tight. Still, I somehow pushed out the rest of the words. "But what do you know about what's hard? All your life you've had it so easy. Jacksonville's golden prince, the rich boy all the girls want to date. The Clann's future high Pooh-Bah witch leader." I waggled my fingers in the air, the years' worth of hurt and anger all boiling up to push me close to the edge. It was all I could do not to yell at him right now.
He froze, those achingly gorgeous eyes of his widening. "What are you talking-"
A laugh escaped me, sounding hollow and empty even to my ears. He truly thought I was clueless, didn't he? "I know all about the Clann and your magic. My family are descendants, too-they were Clann until they weren't perfect enough, pure enough, for your kind anymore." I closed the distance between us until only inches separated us. He wanted to talk? Maybe it was time we really talked. About everything. "You want to know what's hard? Try having your best friend suddenly refuse to speak to you. Try not knowing what you did wrong, and begging your former friends to forgive you, and them just pretending you don't even exist anymore. For seven years. I must have been out of my mind to think you and I could be friends again. All you're going to do is treat me like crap, just like you did Friday night. And all I was trying to do was be nice to you!"
He dragged a hand through his hair, making a mess of it. "Look, you're right. I was a jerk all those years, and an even bigger jerk last week at the game. I mean, yeah, my parents told me to stay away from you, and I was trying to be a good kid and follow the rules. But I shouldn't have. And I'm not anymore." He cupped my shoulders, his hands burning me right through my sweater. "Please believe me, I never wanted to hurt you like that. And I'm more sorry about it than I can ever tell you."
His voice poured over me like ice on a burn, his words everything I'd wanted to hear for years.
But it still didn't quite explain his acting like an ass at the game. "I get why you were upset Friday night. But why take it out on me? Are you sure this isn't a Clann thing? They didn't put you up to this, did they?"
"What? Hell, no! I had to fight with my parents just to get to stay on as a manager."
That stunned me into silence for a few seconds. "What? Why would you do that?"
His entire body froze, and I wondered if he was even still breathing. After a long hesitation, the muscles in his neck worked as he swallowed hard. His hands, shaky now, slid down to cup my elbows, bringing my hands up to rest on his forearms. "Because I miss hanging out with you. We were best friends once. I miss that. I miss you."
All my anger drained out of me, leaving this strange sense of lightness and returning warmth inside. Tears of a different kind burned my eyes now. "Really?"
He grinned. "Yeah, really."
I couldn't stop an answering smile from forming. "Okay. But no more acting like an ass. I'm the head manager. I've got a rep to maintain here. How am I supposed to boss those Charmers around when I can't even keep my own managers in line?"
He laughed and faked a salute. "Aye, aye, captain."
"And you get to carry the sound system and the trainer bag. For at least a week, for your rudeness to the team head manager." My lips twitched with the effort not to laugh.
"Yes, ma'am, Miss Savannah." He grabbed the bag's strap and slung it over his shoulder.
As I followed him down the stairs, he looked back at me and grinned.
And that's when I realized how hard just being friends with him was going to be.
Tristan
At the end of practice, I hung around Mrs. Daniels's office with Savannah.
"Hey, I was thinking...you should keep an extra hat or two in your truck," I said. "You know, in case anyone forgets theirs at the game tonight."
"Hmm, good idea. I'll have to remember to grab a couple this afternoon."
"Why not grab them now while you're here?"
She shut and locked the closet door. "Because I have to come back up here this afternoon anyways."
"I thought we didn't have practice the afternoon before a game?"
"We don't. But I do have to load all the Secret Sis gifts into my truck for the game." She waved a hand at the dance room.
I peeked through the doorway. A cabinet ran down the length of the back wall opposite the mirrors. Its counter was covered with blue-and-gold gifts of all shapes and styles. I gave a low whistle. That was one heck of a gift pile. With forty girls on the team, even if she put the presents into big boxes, she'd still have to make several trips.
"Do the other managers usually help you?"
"No. But they're not heavy, and I like the exercise."
"Yeah, as if you need that. Okay, I'll see you this afternoon, then."
"No!" Sheer panic erupted in her voice and across her face.
I looked at her, eyebrows raised.
"I mean, it's fine," she added. "I really don't need your help. I'll see you at the game, okay?"
Her cheeks were pink, and she was looking everywhere but at me. Oh, yeah, she was definitely hiding something.
I'd just have to swing by the dance room after school and see what she was up to.
Savannah
I kept thinking the more time I spent around Tristan at Charmers practice, the easier it would become to ignore him in history class. But the only people I could successfully ignore in there were Dylan and the Brat Twins. In fact, I'd gotten so good at tuning them out in class that the twins actually seemed to think I was deaf now. Which was pretty amusing, considering my already batlike hearing seemed to be growing more sensitive every month. Thankfully Dylan had decided to leave all the bullying attempts to the girls for a while.
Unfortunately, even my supposed deafness didn't stop the twins from trying to bait me before the start of every history class in increasingly louder voices.
Today, the conversation was about who in the school was worth taking a bullet for. A stupid question, in my opinion, but the twins seemed to consider it a deep, debate-worthy topic.
"Hey, Tristan," Vanessa said. "Who would you take a bullet for?"
"Uh, anybody in the school, I guess," he muttered without turning to face them.
That's my Tristan. Smiling to myself, I pretended to focus on reading a book for an English assignment and prayed Mr. Smythe would hurry up and get to class.
"Oh, surely not just anybody," Vanessa whined. "I mean, you wouldn't take a bullet for the freaks, would you?"
"Such as?" Tristan sounded like he was warning the blondes about something, his voice dropping to a near growl.
"Well, like Freaky Eyes there," Vanessa stage-whispered.
Three guesses who that was. It took everything I had not to snort with laughter. The Brat Twins were so transparent they were pathetic. They were just trying to make me mad. But they kept using old material in their attempts. And then they were dumb enough to wonder why being called a freak no longer bothered me much. I turned the page in my book and continued reading, confident that my Ice Princess mask was in no danger of cracking today.
"Sure," Tristan replied. "Why wouldn't I take a bullet for her?"
"Because she goes around putting these horrible love spells on the guys," Hope answered, not even bothering to fake a whisper. Half the class had to have heard her. "Probably because she's so ugly. It's the only way she could ever get a guy to like her!"
The twins erupted in high-pitched giggles.
Now that was going too far, even for them. Fury tried to warm up my stomach, and my eyes stung. Oh, no, no way was I going to cry. I quickly imagined my anger turning into ice water running through my veins. Ice Princess, I reminded myself. You are surrounded by ice and untouchable. My heart rate slowed down, and I felt that coldness within spread to my face.
Sometimes, like now, my ability to embrace the emotionless cold within me was almost frightening. It had to be from the vampire side of my genes. It even made me feel like a vampire. But it was a heck of a lot better than breaking down into pathetic tears in class.
I was so lost in thought, I almost didn't notice how my skin broke out in prickly goose bumps. Probably another sign warning me not to slip too deep into Ice Princess mode.
"Girls, should you really be talking about this sort of stuff?" Tristan was definitely growling at them now.
"Oh, you're right," Hope whispered. "I didn't think..."
"You never do," he muttered.
Nice comeback. It almost made me feel better. But not quite. The coldness inside me wasn't appeased much. It wanted revenge. The chilling fury grew, spreading like poison, settling in my chest and stomach and making the muscles stiffen then cramp. Oh ow. Okay, that actually hurt.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tristan glance my direction with a frown.
As soon as I thought about him, a new sensation took over, a pure and seemingly endless need that crowded out all other thoughts from my mind. Need for him. This was worse than simply wanting something, worse even than the usual yearning I felt around him. This was like being trapped in the desert for days and stumbling across a jug of ice-cold water. I craved him. My body screamed at me that I would feel so much better if I just leaned across the aisle toward him and...
Oh, no. Was this the bloodlust my family had warned me about?
I had to get out of here. Now!
I managed to stand up then stagger down the aisle to the teacher's desk. But Mr. Smythe wasn't there yet.
I kept going, changing direction toward the door. I was outside and a few yards from the building when I met the teacher.
I gasped out the first thing that came to mind. "Going to be sick."
"Do you need to see the nurse or-"
"No. Bathroom. I'll be right back." I kept going until I reached the nearest girls' restroom at the top of the hill and around the corner to the left.
But I wasn't really nauseous. Just...thirsty, or hungry, or something. It was as if my body had become this foreign thing I was trapped inside, and my mind didn't know how to communicate with it anymore. I didn't know what it needed. But at least I was pretty sure it wasn't blood. Hopefully.
I leaned against the edge of the sink, which felt warmer than me at the moment. I focused on my breathing, willing the pace to slow and deepen. Okay, that was one area I was still in control of, at least.
Then I looked up at my reflection. My eyes...they were nearly white. I'd never seen them that color before. They didn't even look like my own eyes anymore.
Closing them, I made myself calm down. Then I noticed my hands were freezing. I turned the hot water on and stuck my hands under the stream until I could feel my fingers again. The heat felt so nice, I pushed up my sleeves and scooped the water over my forearms, too. Gradually, the coldness inside faded away, leaving me exhausted. But normal again, thankfully.
I really had to get a grip on my temper. This was ridiculous.
When I returned to the classroom, the Brat Twins started giggling again just as the usual ache from being near Tristan spread through my chest and stomach like another muscle cramp.
"Quiet, girls," Mr. Smythe said.
The twins fell silent.
I ignored them as I returned to my seat and tried to listen to the day's lecture.
But deep inside me, I could feel that alien coldness waiting for the next time I lost control.
Tristan
Maybe Savannah was hiding the fact that she was seriously sick.
She'd shot out of history class today like a rocket and stayed gone for half an hour. When she'd returned, she had been white as a sheet and shaking, and she hadn't taken any notes during Mr. Smythe's lecture like she normally did.
And I never had heard a good explanation for why she had been so sick last spring. Maybe she hadn't made the Charmers team as a dancer because she had a medical condition. Though that still wouldn't explain why she didn't want me near the dance room this afternoon.
The rest of the day took too long to get through, but finally the last bell rang. I waited a few minutes at my locker to give Savannah time to get to the dance room. Then I headed that way, walking up the sports and art building's second-floor stairs as quietly as I could.
I could hear music, something sad and moody. Easing the door open at the third-floor landing, I entered the hallway and jerked to a stop.
I'd always known that Savannah was beautiful. But this...this was something else. I'd had no idea she could even move like that.
She'd turned off the dance-room lights and shut the room's double doors. But I could still see her through the long, narrow windows at either side of the entrance. In the faint sunlight slanting in through the exterior windows, with her red hair down and flowing around her pale skin...
She didn't look real. She looked like something I'd dreamed up.
Suddenly, she froze, her back to me, her body tense. When she turned toward the doors, she had one hand pressed to the center of her chest, her fingers spread wide just below her collarbone. Her other hand spread over her stomach below her rib cage.
I knew it. She was sick. I yanked the doors open. "Sav, what's wrong?"
"What are you doing here? I told you I didn't need your help."
"Just tell me what's going on. Are you okay?"
"Of course I'm okay. Why?"
"You look like you're in pain." I nodded at her hands.
She dropped them to her sides, where they clenched into fists. "No, I'm fine. I was just-"
"Then why aren't you a dancer with the Charmers?" The question blurted out before I could reconsider asking it. But if she was sick, I had to know.
She flinched as if I'd hit her and took too long to reply. "I wasn't good enough apparently."
"That's bull. You just danced better than their current captain does." Not that I was an expert, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to see how she'd been practically defying gravity in there.
One small shoulder rose and fell as she stomped over to the stereo and snapped it off. "That's how things work sometimes. I'd better get going."
I knew when someone was lying to my face. But why would she lie about this? I followed her into the uniform closet. "Why aren't you at least filling in as an alternate dancer this year with Keisha and Vicki?"
She stopped before a step stool, keeping her back to me. "That's a long story."
"I've got all night."
She hesitated, then sighed and reached for the stool, her movements suddenly jerky. "My father's...family didn't like me dancing last year. So I promised them I wouldn't anymore."
Must be some religious thing.
She dragged the stool a few feet to the left.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Hats." She pointed at a long row of square white boxes on the shelf above the uniforms, then stepped onto the stool. She was taking my advice, after all. Good. Except I was tall enough to get the boxes for her without needing a stool.
I stepped up beside her and reached over her head for a box.
She froze and drew in a long breath, then suddenly gasped and wobbled on the stool. Forgetting the hats, I grabbed her waist before she could fall.
Her entire body tensed like a string stretched to the breaking point. Gripping my shoulders with surprising strength, she met my gaze head-on.
Her irises were a gray so light they looked almost silver as she stared at me, the stool making her nearly my height now. The only other time I'd seen her eyes this color was after my fight with Greg. The last time we'd stood this close together.
"Tristan..." she whispered.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded, leaning closer to me. Then there was only one thought. Forget the plan. I lowered my head and kissed her.
I'd kissed other girls. Lots of them. Nothing had ever felt like this, though.
She kissed me back, her arms wrapped around my neck so our whole bodies lined up. My head swam, and my knees shook.
Too quickly, the burn in my lungs forced me to lift my head and take a long gulp of air. I kept holding her in case she felt as light-headed and weak as I did.
"I... We..." she gasped.
"Yeah," I agreed, still breathless. "Wow."
The dazed look left her face, replaced by horror. She pushed away from me and stepped down from the stool as all the color drained from her cheeks. "You kissed me!"
"You kissed me back." How had she recovered so fast? She had to have felt the world slam to a halt during that kiss, too.
"I did not. I got a little...light-headed. And you took advantage of my confusion."
"I can tell when a girl is kissing me back."
She pressed a hand to her stomach and another to her chest like before.
"Why do you keep doing that? And why are you feeling light-headed? Are you sick? Tell me the truth."
"No, I'm not sick. I just..." Frowning, she pressed a hand to her forehead. "I didn't eat much at lunch. And don't change the subject. This is not okay. You and I can't-"
"Have dinner with me." I cringed at my total, sudden lack of self-control. Good job, Tristan. So much for being her friend first.
"Okay."
"Okay?" My pulse shot up through my skull. Yes!
"No! Wait. No. I can't. We can't."
"Is that your final answer?" I joked even as my heart dropped down somewhere near my gut. I should have known getting her to date me wouldn't be so easy.
"I-I'm the head manager. You're one of my managers. I can't date you."
It sounded like she was reaching for excuses on the fly. "Did Mrs. Daniels say that?"
"No. But-"
"Then I'm allowed to date anyone I want to on the team?"
She frowned. "Yes. But it's-"
"Okay, then. I want to date you, Savannah." I crossed my arms over my chest, bracing myself for the argument I knew she'd need to convince her. "Obviously you feel something between us, too. Why not have dinner together?"
"Because I can't." She ducked out of the closet faster than I could move to block her.
I followed her to the hallway, hoping the shakiness in my knees didn't show. "Can't? Or don't want to?"
She froze just inside the dance room, her back to me as she gripped the doorjamb hard enough to make her knuckles turn white. I thought she wouldn't answer, or maybe she'd lie. "I wish I could. But I can't. I'm sorry."
"Can you at least tell me why?"
"You know why. Clann rules." Moving to the back of the room, she grabbed a box from inside the cabinet and started filling it up with gifts from the countertop, her movements jerky with not a single hint of that ghostlike grace she'd shown while dancing just a few minutes ago. "Will you grab two hatboxes, please? That is, if you're still insisting on helping."
Frustrated, I stayed where I was for the moment. "So you won't date me because the Clann forbids it."
She sighed loudly. "That's right. We're not even supposed to be friends, much less date. You know that."
"But their rules don't make any sense. They're stupid. Just because you're not in the Clann anymore shouldn't stop us from dating. Descendants can date regular humans. What's the difference?"
Her frown deepened. "They have their reasons. Hats?"
I stood there, rubbing the stubble starting to form on my chin. I'd need to shave again before the game tonight. "What reasons? It doesn't make any sense."
"It makes sense to them, and that's all that matters. A promise is a promise."
"You promised not to be friends with me, or not to date me?"
"Uh, both. It was sort of an all-inclusive kind of promise."
"You actually said the words 'I promise'?" When we were kids, she used to get so hung up on making me say those words and pinky swearing when I promised her something. Otherwise, she seemed to think I might wriggle out of the deal, whatever it was at the time.
And she remembered that, judging by how she had to duck her head to hide a grin now. "Well, not in so many words. It was more like an understood thing. They said to stay away from you."
"Ah, but you never actually promised, did you?" I said, stepping closer to her.
She quickly grabbed the now-full box of gifts. "They made sure I understood the rules, and that's all it should take." Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Look, maybe you don't care about following the rules. But I do. I made a promise to my family, and they trust me to keep it. So that's what I'm going to do. Okay? It doesn't matter what I want, or what you want." She started out the door.
"Hang on," I growled, ducking into the uniform closet to grab two hatboxes before joining her in the hallway.
She looked tired as we walked down the stairs and out the building, her shoulders slumping as we made our way down the cement ramp then cut across the grassy hill between the math building and cafeteria.
"Is that too heavy?" I tucked the hatboxes under one arm, reaching out for her box with the other. "I can carry-"
"No, it's fine." She jerked the box out of my reach and walked faster toward the front parking lot.
It was my turn to sigh in frustration. Man, she was hardheaded.
We filled up the seat of her truck. On the way back, as we passed my grounding tree outside the cafeteria, I said, "Go ahead, I'll catch up."
I pretended to tie my shoe until she was out of sight inside the sports and art building again. Then I pressed a hand to the dirt and pulled up some energy from the earth. The boost of energy helped clear me of the lingering weakness and light-headed effects from our kiss. Feeling better, I stood and jogged to catch up with her inside the foyer.
We made one more trip, both of us loaded down with the last of the gifts. The entire time, her cheeks and ears stayed a bright pink. Then she opened her truck's driver-side door and slid in. But I couldn't let her go yet. Not till I knew where we stood now that we'd crossed the line beyond friendship.
I held on to the open door. And noticed her hands were shaking on the steering wheel. "You know this thing between us isn't gonna go away, even if you ignore it. Clann rules or not. It's not about them. It's about us."
Staring at the dashboard of her truck, she whispered, "It doesn't matter. We can be friends, but that's all. I can't date you."
"And if I keep asking?"
One corner of her mouth tightened. "Anne's right. You are spoiled."
"No, just determined." I shut her door for her. Then she started the engine and pulled out of her parking space.
At least look back at me, I thought. Come on, just one little sign.
As she left, I caught her looking at me in her rearview mirror. Yes!
Maybe I hadn't totally blown my chances with her. I just needed to find some way to get past this whole family-rules hang-up of hers. After all, some rules really were made to be broken.
Savannah
The glow singing through my body faded as soon as Tristan was no longer visible in my rearview mirror. I couldn't believe I'd kissed him. I hadn't even been that stupid in my dreams about him. What had I been thinking?
Oh, that's right, I hadn't. I'd gotten caught up in my emotions. Again.
I always got emotional during the few stolen minutes each week when I could safely have the dance room all to myself. Maybe it was the fact that I had to keep my dancing ability a secret that made it that much more of a pure pleasure.
Whatever the reason, I'd been lost in the moment and the flood of emotions as I moved. And then I'd felt him there. But the usual ache from his nearness had been intensified to the point of pain, as if magnified through the lens of my other emotions.
The pain might have gone away eventually, if he hadn't kept poking at my feelings about things. I'd tried to push on, to ignore the pain and focus on getting back to work.
But then Tristan had moved to stand so close to me, his warmth at my side, his crisp cologne like a pile of autumn leaves I just had to dive into. The ache in my chest and stomach had exploded, and I'd lost all common sense. Something had driven me to stare into his eyes, to put my hands on his shoulders. Only one thought, one need had pounded through my veins. I'd wanted him to kiss me.
I'd used my gaze on him again.
I groaned and slapped the steering wheel. "Idiot, idiot, idiot! Sav, how could you? Twice on the same guy?"
I really should be locked up.
How long would it take for the gaze-daze effects to wear off him this time? Would repeated exposure make it take longer, or less time? Probably more. I hadn't been brave enough today to check his eyes for that possessed-stalker look after ward. I would have to find the courage and check tonight at the game.
Crap. This time I'd used my gaze on a guy I worked with almost every day. And was frequently alone with. How could I do that to Tristan? And just when things seemed to be clicking between us again.
If he-no, when he did, because they always did-when Tristan went into stalker mode, I might have to ask Mrs. Daniels to take him off the team.
No. I couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair to him, especially since I was the one who had messed up and used the freaky vampire gaze on him.
I'd have to be the one to leave the team. It was only right. My throat closed up at the idea.
That night at the game, I got to lead the pre-drill girls in their first bleacher routine. It was fun, it took my mind off the afternoon's disastrous events...
And it got me away from Tristan.
I couldn't understand why he affected me the way he did. Even last week, before everything had gone haywire between us again, sitting beside him in the bleachers had been excruciating. Tonight was way worse. Though frequent glances at his profile showed that he didn't seem bothered at all. At least my standing at the head of the pre-drill section put several yards and people between us so I could breathe easier.
And the ache in my chest and stomach wasn't as bad as it had been this afternoon.
Though if he kept staring at me while I danced in place with the pre-drill girls, it would be. I didn't even have to look his way; I could feel his stare. And because of it, tonight's game was very long and tense.
As the fourth quarter began, my phone beeped to let me know I'd received a text message. But who in the world would text me? Team rules forbade cell-phone usage of any kind during a game, except when we took our third-quarter break. Feeling conspicuous, I nudged my already unzipped bag open farther so I could see my phone's lit display inside.
Want 2 grab some pizza after the game?
It was from Tristan.
I nearly squeaked. Without lifting my head, I peeked at him through my eyelashes. He was staring at the field as if watching the game. But I noticed a cell phone barely visible in his hands.
While pretending to search for something in my bag, I quickly text messaged back, Sorry, we can't. Then I turned off my phone and zipped up the bag so I wouldn't give in to the urge to check it again.
Sitting beside him now was excruciating. I only stayed in my seat a couple minutes longer, my cheeks burning the entire time, before I retreated to the pre-drill section and worked on teaching the freshmen a new bleacher routine. Mrs. Daniels's idea to give them something to do. When the game ended, I tried not to notice how his denim "escort" shirt accentuated his wide shoulders and narrow waist.
When I got home, I was surprised to find Mom in the kitchen, just removing a pizza from the oven. "Hey, hon! How was the game?"
"Oh, you're home! And to what do we owe this honor?" I joked as I gave her a quick hug.
"I know, I haven't been home much lately. What can I say? I've got demanding customers." She slid the pizza onto a plate then took it to the table.
I grabbed us two sodas from the fridge and sat down with her. "Where's Nanna?"
"She already ate, and since she's got an early get-together with her crochet club in the morning, she went to bed already. It's just you and me, kiddo."
We chewed in silence for a while. Nanna's snoring traveled through her closed bedroom door and echoed faintly up the hall to us, making my lips twitch with the urge to laugh. Then I looked at Mom and saw she was trying not to laugh, too. We both burst out in laughter at the same time.
"Lord, that woman snores like a freight train," she gasped when the giggles died down.
"Definitely."
She sighed, still smiling. "You know, I really miss hanging out with you."
My throat tightened. "I miss you, too." I took a careful sip of my drink then found myself asking her, "Mom, why did you ever start to date my dad? I mean, weren't you scared to, since he was a vampire and all that?"
She surprised me by laughing. "Why does anyone ever break the rules? I thought they were stupid. Growing up, I heard so many stories about how terrible vampires were. Then I met your dad, and he was the complete opposite of everything I'd expected. He was kind, and funny, and charming. He made me laugh. And of course there was that whole mystery element to it, since I couldn't read his mind. Being with him was peaceful, a break from the constant chatter of the rest of the world. I thought the Clann was just unfairly prejudiced against vampires, especially after I fell in love with him."
"You couldn't read his mind at all?"
"Nope. And it was such an unbelievable blessing! See, we witches can read the minds of fellow witches and humans. And vampires can read the minds of vampires and humans. But witches and vampires can't read each others' minds. It's probably a safety mechanism that developed over the years after warring with each other for centuries."
Then another thought made it even harder to swallow or breathe. "Does that mean...you and Nanna can read my thoughts?" Just saying the words made my heartbeat race like crazy. I clenched my hands into fists under the table so she wouldn't see them start to shake.
"No, we can't. Trying to read your thoughts is like trying to read your father's. It's like hitting a wall, even for a fairly powerful witch like your nanna."
"So if you can't read my mind, does that mean I'm turning into a vampire for sure?"
"Not necessarily. It could just be that you have some vampire genes. Your father wasn't able to read your mind, either, last time you saw him. Who knows? Maybe the mix of genes will make you permanently immune to both sides' abilities."
I could sure hope so. Otherwise, they would find out about Tristan, and my feelings for him, in no time. "So if being around Dad was so peaceful and all, and you were in love, why did you ever break up?"
She sighed, relaxing back in her chair. That made me relax and my hands were again reaching for pizza. "Because I grew up, and breaking the rules got old. Especially after you were born. The idea of constantly being on the run from not one but two international societies of witches and vampires with a baby on board was just too much. We started fighting all the time, over little things at first, then bigger issues, until it got to the point where I couldn't remember why being on the run with him was even worth it anymore. That's when we both realized it was over. Going against the flow might seem adventurous at first, but eventually you get worn-out. The river always wins."
Something in her words, or maybe the softness in her voice, made my chest ache, like a heavy weight had just been dropped onto me. My eyes burned, and I had to blink sudden tears away.
"Oh, hon, don't be sad." She leaned forward and covered my hands on the table with one of hers. "I had some good times with your dad, too. And, hey, I got you out of the deal. What more could I ask for?" She grinned.
But I wasn't really feeling sad for her, so much as for myself and Tristan. Because Tristan was asking me to do the exact same thing my father had once asked of my mother...to go against the flow. To break the rules. To be adventurous.
Except I had a feeling Mom might be right. How could we ever win against both the vampire council and the Clann, if they found out about us?
The river always wins....
But even that didn't change how much I wanted him.
"Have dinner with me?"
Tristan had added something new to our morning and afternoon routine. Telling him no should have gotten easier, considering he was now asking me twice a day. But nothing about fighting the attraction between us was getting any easier.
Probably because deep down I didn't want to fight it.
By the end of a solid week of his new routine, I thought I really might go nuts. Five days of telling him no, I could not go out with him, twice a day, and every time he asked, all I wanted to do was shout yes. By Friday morning, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed a break from him. He was trying to wear me down with temptation. But he didn't understand; this wasn't about what I wanted. Mom and Nanna trusted me to follow the rules. I absolutely could not go out with him.
Still, I couldn't get the memory of our kiss out of my mind, and he seemed to find a thousand different reasons to be close to me or accidentally touch me. Every time I looked at him after yet another casual brush or bump, he seemed unaware of the contact. But no way did he not know what he was doing.
I wanted to scream.
The situation had started to affect my memory, too.
Tristan stunned both me and Mrs. Daniels at the start of Friday morning's practice by interrupting our pre-practice chat for the first time.
"You forgot this," he said to me, handing me the director's headset for the MegaVox.
Oh, crap. I'd never forgotten her headset before. But why didn't he just hand it directly to Mrs. Daniels? I accepted the headset from him, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. His fingers brushed mine. Oh, of course. If he'd given the headset directly to Mrs. Daniels, then he couldn't touch my fingers and drive me even more crazy.
My temper shooting up, I snapped, "Thanks."
I finished the conversation with the amused director, then stomped down the metal bleachers, my footsteps ringing clear as bells despite the fact that the captain was yelling out instructions for the team.
"Miss Savannah," one of the freshmen managers said as I returned to the sound system. "Are you ready for us to go put out the game-day locker notes?"
"Yes," I replied out of habit without looking up. We switched out this duty every other week with the cheerleaders and had it down to a science. Then I had an idea. "On second thought, wait. Let's change things up. Tristan needs to know how to do that, too. So one of you stay with me, and one of you go with him to put up the notes." It was pure genius. Why hadn't I thought of this before?
"Which one-"
"Either, I don't care." I was snapping at the poor freshmen now. Great. I took a deep breath, made myself smile a little and said in a softer tone, "You two decide."
My forced smile turned into a real one when the girls had to resort to a quick game of rock-paper-scissors to decide who would go. The victor gave a short squeal of delight.
Tristan scowled at me before walking off with the winner toward the school buildings.
Once he was gone from sight, I sighed and rolled the tension out of my shoulders. Carrying the sound system back to the office this morning wouldn't be fun, but I'd done it most of last summer without his help. I'd carry the heavier MegaVox so my manager could have the much lighter jam box. It would be worth it just to have a break from the relentless need I felt when around him. Plus, he wouldn't have a chance this morning to ask me out, since he always asked right after we locked up the sound system at the end of every practice.
Once we reached Mrs. Daniels's office, I had another brilliant idea. I also had my manager help me load all the Secret Sis gifts into my truck so Tristan wouldn't need to help me later.
Unfortunately, a quick stop by my locker before lunch proved I hadn't totally thwarted him. He hadn't just put out good-luck notes on the football players' lockers. He'd also left me a little note, handwritten across the back of a blue Charmers game-day note and stuffed between the slats of my locker. Usually the game-day notes said something like "Good luck at tonight's game!" This note said something different.
Please have dinner with me.
That night, I went through the first half of the game on autopilot, too lost in thought to see any of the action on the field.
I wished I could ask someone what to do about Tristan. Then again, I knew all my friends and family well enough to guess what each one would say if asked.
Michelle kept an eye on social status like some people memorized sports stats. For her, my dating Tristan would be an easy and ecstatic yes! After all, Tristan was rock-star hot in every way. And as Michelle and many other girls at JHS would see it, dating Tristan would mean an instant rise in social status, making a girl immediately worthy of notice. The longer a girl could hold his attention, the more noteworthy she became.
How many girls used Tristan for status points alone, and not because they cared about him as a person?
I sighed.
Then there was Anne's take. She would be quick to point out how notoriously short Tristan's attention span was when it came to girls. No girl had lasted longer than two months on Tristan's arm before he moved to the next.
Did I really want to fall for someone who would break my heart in a matter of weeks?
Carrie also wouldn't hesitate with her answer. Boys were a waste of time. Focus on getting into a good college.
"Miss Savannah?" someone whispered. "Do you have an extra bobby pin?"
Without even looking, I grabbed a few from my bag and handed them over.
Nanna would scowl and threaten to throttle me for even asking. You know the rules! she would say while shaking a gnarled finger at me.
And my mother-
The referee blew his whistle, signaling the end of the second quarter and the start of halftime. And time for me to get back to work.
For a while, I was too busy to think about anything other than helping the dancers get warmed up and stretched out before their performance on the field. Afterward, when we were all back in the bleachers and I had finished rewrapping dancers' strained knees, shins and ankles, I returned to my seat beside Tristan. He looked worried about something tonight, his eyebrows drawn into a constant frown as he stared out across the field. I yearned to ask him what was wrong, if he was upset about having to watch his former football team playing without him again. He looked so frustrated and miserable; I wanted to hug him, to tell him it would be okay.
What would Mom say, if I asked her for advice?
If I could go back in time and ask her when she was a teen, her answer would obviously be to go for it. What would one date hurt? her teenage self might say. Live a little. Or as Tristan would say, Some rules were meant to be broken.
One date. One glimpse of what it would be like to be with Tristan. Just for a few hours, I could pretend that we were someone else. He wouldn't be in the Clann. I wouldn't be a half-blood outcast. We could just be Tristan and Savannah, two people on a date together.
All I had to do was say yes. One word. Three little letters.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Tristan's hands gripping his knees. I visually traced those fingers, imagined them reaching out to hold mine. To be able to hold his hand for a while...
My gaze slowly slid up to his mouth. I remembered how those lips had felt against mine, the warmth and light that had flooded me, filling me up from the inside out. To be able to kiss him again...
The world around us grew fuzzy and out of focus. But that was okay, because inside my mind everything was crystal clear now, every thought zipping like lightning.
The Clann and the council were only worried that I would try to bite and drain him, right? But I wouldn't do that. I would never, ever hurt Tristan. And, yeah, my body was acting a little weird lately. But only when I lost control over my emotions. I could work harder to keep them under control. I could control myself around him.
I looked down at my duffel bag, still open. Lying right on top was his note, which I had been unable to throw away. And beside it...my phone.
One date couldn't hurt.
Before I could change my mind, I reached down and grabbed my phone. Breathing fast, my heart racing, my thumbs leaped across the keys with a will of their own as if possessed, sending just one text message to Tristan.
Yes.
Then I dropped the phone back into my bag.
I didn't look directly at him, didn't need to. I could still see him out of the corner of my eye as his cell phone buzzed in the left pocket of his slacks. He pulled the phone out, looked at it, and his entire body tensed up.
His thumbs practically flew over the keys as he text messaged me back.
I peeked through the opening of my bag at my phone's lit display. It read, Tonight?
Feeling his gaze on me I gave the tiniest of nods. It had to be tonight. I might come to my senses if we waited any longer than that.
He sent me another message. Meet me back at the school after the game?
I dipped my head half an inch in agreement, my heart pounding against my chest wall.
He put away his phone with a grin. Then his knees began to jiggle, just like they used to do in the fourth grade when he'd been nervous. They didn't stop for the rest of the game.
When the third-quarter buzzer sounded, he got up and disappeared into the crowd at the concession-stand area. I swear it felt like a rope had been tied around the both of us and was trying to drag me after him. The rest of the team soon followed, but I ignored the urge to go and stayed behind instead. After a few minutes, I received a text message from him.
Do you like pizza?
I smiled and typed, Doesn't everyone?
Favorite kind?
Cheese.
He took a while to reply. Someone must have interrupted him. Favorite drink?
Playing 20 questions?
I'm thinking picnic.
Another thrill raced through me, making me shiver. A picnic. At night. Just the two of us. Orange soda, I replied.
OK. Meet you at the school.
I couldn't help it. I sighed. Maybe tonight would be our one and only date. Maybe tomorrow I'd wake up and find that this had only been a crazy dream.
But I would definitely enjoy it while it lasted.