Chapter Ten
“See? I'm not so scary.” Tristan grinned.
I peeked at him through the thick veil of light brown hair that had fallen across the side of my face. I didn't regret following his cue to sit on the bed with him, but now he was really close. All I had to do was reach my hand out a handful of inches and I could touch him. And of course, that distance went both ways.
He didn't seem scary though, not when he was smiling like a little kid on the first day of summer. There was excitement and anticipation there; an excitement that was catching.
“No, you're not,” I mumbled.
“You think we can be friends?”
“Friends,” I grimaced at the word, “probably not.” I had never really had a friend. What did friends do?
“Well,” he shrugged lightly, not put off by my weirdness, “do you at least want to talk?”
I looked over at him more fully, just to see if he was kidding. He seemed sincere. “What would we talk about?”
“I don't know. Whatever you want.” He scooted back further on the bed. “How did you end up at Nine Crosses?”
“My mother tried to kill me when I was six,” I answered without much thought.
“What?”
“She,” I shook my head quickly. What was I thinking, talking about my mother to Tristan? “She hated me.”
“She didn't understand you,” he corrected immediately.
“My father doesn't like me very much either,” I continued in a rare show of confidence. I couldn't explain, even to myself why I trusted Tristan so much, but I felt like I could tell him anything.
“You're better off at Nine Crosses,” he cooed.
“How so?”
“You didn't have to pretend anymore.”
“Pretend I'm not crazy?”
He pursed his lips tightly. “You don't have to listen to Toby either. He doesn't like anyone- never has.”
“Then pretend what?” That I liked people? I had never been much good at fitting in with other people. “Toby's right; I am crazy.”
He shook his head before saying anything. “You don't have to pretend to be normal. You're not like everyone else. You don't have to pretend to love school and all the phony friends that come with it, then pick a college you hate to get you ready for a career you'll eventually hate and a husband you'll learn to hate.” His eyes narrowed as he talked, but widened back out when he turned back to me. “You don't have to pretend the way everyone else does.”
“Are you here to kill me?” I blurted.
His eyes narrowed into two thin slits on his face. “No.”
“No?”
“I'm not here to kill you, Ren. I'm not here to hurt you at all.” He seemed sincere.
“Then why are you here?”
“I... um...” His smile didn't touch his eyes. “I don't really know.”
“You know why I think you're here?” I made the mistake of meeting his eyes when we were only a foot apart as it was.
“Why?”
I pushed my tongue over my cracked lips. “I think you're here because Toby is trying to hide me from you and you want to prove that he can't.”
“Maybe,” he shrugged. His hand was suddenly touching my face, tracing the line of my cheek down to my jaw.
“I thought you were a ghost.”
His smile turned softly into a chuckle. “Maybe I am.”
“Nona told me you wanted to kill me.”
Anger turned Tristan’s eyes dark; his hand stilled against my face. “You talked to Nona?” I nodded mutely. “She shouldn't have...” His words cut off abruptly, as did his anger. “I'm not here to hurt you,” he repeated.
“Toby will be back soon.” I didn't mean for it to come out like a threat.
“Toby is out looking for me,” he chuckled, letting his fingers once again trace the lines of my face.
“Oh.”
“I promise, I won't hurt you,” he swore fervently.
I pulled back to my own side of the bed. Somehow our heads had gotten too close together. How could Tristan make a promise like that?
“Nona said you would kill me,” I reminded him gently.
His jaw tightened briefly, but there was no anger now. “There will always be two sides,” he replied just as gently. “You just have to decide which side you're on.”
“Oh, is that all?” My eyes widened sarcastically.
“I think you already know what you want to do, Ren.”
The sound of my name on his lips was music to my soul. Every word he said made perfect sense, making me wonder how I had ever been afraid of this amazing person.
“I guess so,” I nodded slowly. “If it's a choice between you and Toby...”
“It's not,” he cut me off quickly, “but if it was, it's clear who would come out on top.” He grinned wide, his whole face turning boyish and cute.
“Very clear.” It wasn't though, not very clear at all. Tristan was obviously nicer than Toby, but Toby had been there my whole life. He was comfortable- like an old pair of shoes. And Tristan, even though he was shiny and new, I was afraid he would give me blisters.
“I like you, Ren.” He brushed my hair back over my shoulder. “More than I thought I would.”
“I like you, too, Tristan,” I smiled wide.
“More than Toby?”
“That's not hard.”
“Guess not,” he shrugged.
It was easy to talk to Tristan- too easy. “Toby's supposed to take care of me- keep me safe. Nona said he would.”
“She doesn't know Toby like I do.”
“Toby's a... a... cursed.”
“I know.”
“Are you... one of them too?” It was probably too personal to ask, but the words were already laid out between us. I couldn't take them back now.
“No.”
“What exactly are the Cursed? What makes you different?” I could tell that he was different than the ghost people. He could touch me. “Toby's different, too, though,” I realized out loud, “He's hot.”
“Does he know you feel that way?” he grinned.
My cheeks flamed hot. “I didn't mean like that.”
“You sure?”
“Yes!”
He winked, clearly amused by my discomfort. “I mean, he's a good looking guy.”
“He's... not even real.” And neither was Tristan.
“But this is real,” his voice lowered as he placed his palm against my chest, feeling my heart flying under my ribs. “That feels real to me.”
“I don't understand what you are.”
“I just want to be your friend.”
“Only my friend?”
He shrugged, not committing to anything. “I'll be whatever you need me to be.”
“What about... me?” Did he want me to be someone I wasn't, the way Nona did?
“What about you?”
“What do you want from me?”
“Nothing that you don't want to give me.”
Tristan had a way of talking in circles. He could talk and talk without ever really saying anything at all. I wanted to be frustrated with him, but the sound of his voice calmed me. All I wanted to do was curl up beside him and dream of what life could be like if I was allowed to be with Tristan.
To stop myself from touching him, I pulled my legs up on the bed so I could wrap my arms around my knees and still watch him. He seemed content to just watch me, too.
I wondered briefly why he had come here to find me in my hotel room if it wasn't to kill me, but I let the thought drift away. There were too many other thoughts to take their place.
Like- what would it feel like to run my fingers through Tristan’s honey colored curls? Would his hair be as soft as it looked or would my hands go right through him? I frowned slightly at the thought.
“What are you thinking about?” He poked lightly into my shoulder. “What has you looking so upset?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head quickly. Was I really that trans
parent?
“Thinking about your daring escape?” His eyebrows wriggled dramatically.
Realizing he was giving me the chance to keep my real thoughts to myself, I jumped on the topic with an excitement I didn't feel. “It was so scary.”
“Toby was with you, he wouldn't have let anything happen to you.”
“Toby?” I scoffed. “Toby doesn't care what happens to me.”
“He helped you escape the hospital, he must care a little.” His smile stayed in place, but there was something hidden under his words, something I didn't understand.
“Only because Nona told him to,” I sighed.
His brow furrowed at my words. “Toby spoke to Nona?”
“No, she told me to tell him.”
“Yeah?” He relaxed beside me. “What else did Nona tell you?”
“Just that,” I shrugged nervously, “that you would kill me. Soon. And that...” I let my voice fade. Nona had told me that I would be the one to kill Tristan. It wasn't like I could tell him that, though. I had almost forgotten about that part. It was too easy to forget everything else when I was with Tristan. I smiled down at him- where he was almost laying all the way down.
“And what?”
“And that I needed... to talk to Toby. That I should trust him.”
“I don't think you should.” His fingers slid up my bare leg and back down again, reminding me that I should probably find some pants. What was the etiquette for a girl over eighteen sitting alone in a hotel room with a ghost?
I laughed at my own stupid thoughts.
“What's so funny?” His chin jutted out towards me.
“I was just thinking I should find some pants.”
“Not what I was expecting you to say.” He laughed loudly, startling me, but not unpleasant.
“If you're going to be my friend- you better get used to the unexpected.”
“Do you want me to be?” I held my breath, knowing what he was asking, but waiting for him to finish his thought. “To be your friend?”
“Yeah,” I smiled, “I'd like to be friends.”