I was very pleased with the reaction of the crowd, but mostly with Tristan’s response. He was truly upset. Good. It meant that, underneath his cool, uncaring demeanor, he still felt something, even if his eyes didn’t show it to me any more.
He got an A plus on the song that day, and he wasn’t even there to hear about it.
For the next few weeks, Tristan avoided us, though Seth tried to talk to him numerous times. He just shot him down at every attempt. I still had a few short conversations late at night with him, but it always ended the same way. With him telling me I needed to accept his decision. That he was happy with Caroline now, and it was time for me to move on and forget about him.
But I was used to fighting for what I wanted. Every time I thought about giving up, profound anger burst through me. I alternated between this and a deep melancholic numbness. Fire and cold. It made me think of Harry’s tattoo. Fierce waves crashing over burning melting fire. Two forces that seemed to want to consume me until there was nothing left.
Then one day I was about to exit one of the stalls in the girls’ bathroom, when I overheard Caroline and one of her cheerleader friends coming in. I retreated back inside, eavesdropping on their conversation.
“I can’t believe you, Caroline!” her friend giggled obnoxiously. “So, you two finally did it? It’s been a month already and you haven’t got into his pants all this time! That’s a record!” Another friend giggled from the other side of the bathroom.
“Well, you know Tristy, he’s so shy and polite! He wanted to show me some respect, which I truly appreciate! But enough of respecting already, right? His kisses alone were making me go crazy!” Caroline said, while I bit my lips in disgust.
“So, how was it?” her friend asked. I wanted to be deaf right about now. I clenched my hands over my ears, but I still could hear their high-pitched voices.
“He’s the best I’ve ever had!” Caroline shrieked.
“Tell me everything!?” the other shrieked back.
I wanted to die. I really wanted to die right there and then, while Caroline described in excruciating detail to her friend everything Tristan had done to her. How incredible he looked naked. How amazing sex with him was. When they left the bathroom, I stayed there for a few hours, trying to regain what was left of my sanity. It was the final blow for me. I was officially giving up on him.
He was with Caroline now. He was having sex with her. He really had moved on. We were not meant to be together.
That day I passed by my room and gathered a bunch of clothes and stuffed them all inside my backpack. Tristan walked into the room and looked startled. He saw the look on my face and stopped dead in his tracks.
“Joe? Are you okay? Something happened?” he asked, and his eyes flashed with worry.
I was beyond despair now. I must’ve looked like a deranged, crazy, lost girl.
“You wanted me to leave you alone, didn’t you?” I shouted at him. “So I’m leaving you alone. I’m moving on, like you wanted me to! And I’m moving out! You don’t need to ever talk to me again! I hope you have a nice life!” I stormed out of the room with my backpack clutched in my hands, leaving an awestruck Tristan behind.
I went straight to Tiffany’s room and asked if I could move in with her, and I breathed a sigh of relief when she said she had already offered me like a hundred times already and I had never said anything back. I guess I hadn’t been listening when she asked. I spent the rest of the month living with Tiff. I couldn’t thank her enough for being there for me. For helping me get through this. She made me feel loved and cared for, and helped me get back on my feet again. I was truly blessed to have her friendship.
The other Lost Boys also noticed something was wrong with me, but they didn’t press to know what was happening. Seth was always present, always watchful and alert to see if I needed anything, if there was anything he could do to make me feel better. Sam healed my heart, making me laugh and raising my spirit with his positive energy. Josh was my steady arm in a wavering storm. Always firm, strong and calm; we talked a lot about all kinds of things, about life, heartache, friendship. And then there was my Harry.
How can I describe what Harry did for me? He was so unique, and kind and sweet. His hugs made me feel warm inside, and his presence made me feel at peace. I don’t know how he did it, but whenever he was with me, I just felt happy, like he could cast all my pain away with his comforting embrace. I loved all my Lost Boys with all my heart. With them at my side, I could face anything. My friends were all that mattered to me now.
Then it was Friday again and classes were over. I was glad I hadn’t bumped into Tristan for some time now. I walked through the hallways, considering going to visit my mom that weekend. We had band practice on Saturday, but I was planning to skip that, because I hadn’t seen my mom in ages. I needed to grab my bag and some last remaining clothes from my old room first. And I sure could do with some time away from Tristan and Caroline too.
I bumped into a panicky Seth on the way to our room. He looked at me, frowning, sweat pouring over his forehead. He was really worried and scared.
“Seth! What’s the matter? What happened?” I asked apprehensively.
He shuffled his feet, and ran his hands through his hair. It must really be serious for him to mess his hair and not care.
“I’m on my way to the infirmary, Joey! I don’t know what else to do any more!” he said in despair.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s … Tristan,” he said, and paused, looking worriedly at me. “I know you two aren’t speaking … and he made me promise not to call you, or to tell you anything! But he’s been really sick since this morning … and he’s getting worse! He has a fever and he’s started hallucinating, babbling nonsense about ghosts and gray cloaks and death. I’m freaking out here – and he won’t let me call anyone!”
I looked over at my cell phone to see the date. The first of April. Crap. I’d completely forgotten about it! I had been so depressed, lately, that I hadn’t equated my own extra tiredness with the spell bond.
“Everything is going to be okay, Seth!” I said putting my hands on his shoulders. “You don’t need to go to the infirmary, trust me. Tristan will be fine. I need to see him now. Come with me.” He followed me reluctantly. I ran to our room and stumbled inside. Tristan and I had spent almost a month apart. I didn’t know how badly that could have affected his condition. And the stupid idiot wouldn’t let Seth call me!
He was lying on his bed, trembling and deathly pale, sweat pouring over his face. He looked as bad as he had on New Year’s Day. His eyes were closed and his jaw was clenched tight in pain. I looked over to Seth. He was watching us with scared, wide eyes. This was the second time Seth had witnessed Tris getting sick, and I needed to think fast how to explain it now to him to stop him calling the nurse.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Plan
“Okay. Seth. Everything is going to be all right, okay? Tristan just forgot to take his medication. He doesn’t want anyone to know about his illness,” I said, making up the lie out of the blue. It probably had a lot of loose ends, but I didn’t have time to think things through right now. “I’ll get it now and he’ll be fine, okay?”
I faked grabbing something inside Tristan’s chest of drawers, took a glass of water from his night-stand, and sat on his bed. I pushed his bedclothes down to the waistline, revealing his bare chest. He didn’t have any clothes on. Then I remembered Seth telling me he’d had to give him a cold shower to lower his temperature. I extended my hand and put my palm on his chest. A violent jolt of stabbing energy pierced through my hand to his chest. He grunted in pain, his jaw clenched.
I remained there a few minutes like that, and then I cupped his chin in my hand, tilting it slightly up so he could take a sip from the glass of water. I pretended to give him a pill and made him drink the water. Seth was walking back and forth in the room, too freaked out to notice much anyway.
“Seth, listen. He took his
medicine and he’ll be fine now. You should have called me earlier!” I said, frowning at him, disappointment showing all over my face.
“I’m so sorry, Joey! He made me swear!” Seth said guiltily.
Stupid idiot! He would have been dead – again – if I hadn’t come by our room! What was he thinking?
“I’m going to stay with him now. Look, he already looks better, see?” I said, sitting on the bed really close to him, with my hands still over his chest. The energy continued flowing between my hand and his skin. He had stopped trembling, but sweat still poured off his forehead.
“Listen, can you go to Tiffany’s room and tell her I’m staying here tonight? “I asked Seth.
“Sure. No problem. I’ll go right now.” He paused as he looked at Tristan. “Incredible. He does really look better. That is some magic pill you gave him. Text me if you need me, okay?” he said, leaving us alone.
I smiled, thinking about Seth’s chosen words. Magic pill indeed.
Tristan turned his head and mumbled something incoherent, his eyes still shut tight. I put my other hand over his forehead. God! He was still burning up! We needed to lower his temperature, or he would start convulsing soon. I took off his blankets, leaving him with only a thin blue sheet covering him below the waistline. He grunted and recoiled, turning on to his side, shivering.
“I’m so sorry but I need to lower your temperature,” I whispered, lying down by his side and putting my arm around his head, and my other hand over his chest.
He continued shivering and mumbling things I couldn’t quite discern. I glanced quickly at his naked torso, his ribcage showing behind his muscles, his strong arms contracting and relaxing spasmodically. I remember Caroline’s words, describing how amazing he looked naked, and she was right. I shook my head, dismissing this thought. I shouldn’t be remembering this; I shouldn’t be looking at him like this now.
And I knew I should be mad at him, but I didn’t even care about our fight any more, or that he was with Caroline now. He was sick and needed my help. That’s all I needed to focus on.
A few hours passed, and Seth didn’t return. I remained at Tristan’s side, making as much skin contact with him as I possibly could. The pinpricks of energy continued in a steady sharp beat, the intensity of the flow never fading. Which got me worried. It had never been this way. Usually, it was a stronger jolt, and then it gradually subsided. But now it felt strong and sharp all the time. Maybe it was because he needed more of it? Because this was the fourth time it had happened? Why didn’t he bloody call me? Stupid idiot, I thought again.
He stirred and clenched his fists, mumbling something weakly. “Sorry … no … don’t tell her …”
“What’s that, Tris?” I whispered, leaning in to hear him better.
“Don’t tell Joe!” he mumbled again, a little more audible now. “She can’t help … She can’t help me at New Year’s …” he mumbled.
“Because at New Year …” I said, feeding him a line to see if he continued speaking.
“She won’t stop him any more …” he mumbled. This was becoming very interesting. My head was racing. Was this what he had been hiding?
“At New Year’s she won’t be able to stop Vigil?” I guessed cautiously.
“She can’t … The bond won’t work any more,” he said, tossing his head again. He was getting really agitated now. “New Year’s … I die.”
My heart was in my mouth at that point. Why would he keep this a secret?
“Miss Violet told you that?” I whispered. He’d told me Miss Violet had said there was nothing she could do to help my nightmares, but clearly she had told Tristan so much more than that. Tristan continued mumbling in his half-conscious state. “She can’t help … No one can …”
I frowned at him, even though he had his eyes closed and couldn’t see me doing it. “Well, that’s just … stupid. You give up way too easily, Tristan.” I scowled.
Then his words came back to me, the ones he’d said at the terrace on the night of the Spring Ball. He had said we cannot be together. He never said he didn’t want to be with me! He never said it was his choice. He asked me to look in his eyes to see if he really meant it, and he did. He really thought we could not be together, because he was going to die at the end of the year!
He’d wanted us to get back to the way we used to be, just being friends. Why? He thought it was the best thing for me, and that I would see that some day …
God! How could I not see what he’d been saying to me that night? It was right in front of me! He had said he loved me that night. But love wasn’t enough. Because this was going to happen to us whether we wanted it to or not, because it was beyond him to prevent it, and love wasn’t enough!
“Tris … you are trying to make Joey forget about you, to move on with her life, without you. And then she won’t hurt too much when you’re gone. Is that what are you trying to do?” I asked, watching his reaction closely.
He grimaced and tossed his head on the pillow, struggling with some inner fight. He seemed in serious pain. It broke my heart seeing this.
“I don’t want her hurting … because of me. She hates me now … I made her hate me,” he whispered in a heartbreaking voice. “We were … going too fast … too much … pain, in the end …” His voice choked and he couldn’t continue talking. He was breathing heavily, his eyelids shut tight, but still a tear escaped his eyes, trailing slowly down at the side of his face.
Did he really think he could make me forget about him like that? There was no way I was going to let him die! There was always a way. And we were going to find it!
I leaned really close to him, wiping the tear from his cheek and clasping both of my hands around his face. “Shhhh, Tris, it’s all right. Everything will be all right. You don’t need to worry about this any more, okay? You need to relax and rest now,” I said, pressing my lips softly to his forehead. “And Joey doesn’t hate you. She could never hate you. New Year is ages away, but you have to remember: life is full of possibilities,” I whispered in his ear.
I saw a single drop splashing on to his chest and I realized it was a tear. Mine. I was crying over him. Tears of relief and happiness. I rested my head on his chest and smiled. I could hear his fast heartbeat, drumming loudly against my ear. It was the most amazing sound I have ever heard. He put his hand softly over my neck and I felt a faint tingling sensation on my skin because of the contact.
The heartache of the past month melted at the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his skin against my face and the touch of his hand on my neck. All this time he’d only been trying to protect me. He was trying to save me from hurting in the end. In the most unbelievably stupid possible way, I might add. Idiot! A flash of him kissing Caroline passed through my mind, and I lifted my face slowly and looked at him.
“Tristan … do you … love Caroline?” I whispered. I had to know. I had to be sure. What better time than right now when he was deliriously honest?
He had his eyes still closed, and I watched as he made a disgusted frown, like he was tasting the worst lemon in the world. I smiled widely. That was a good enough answer for me.
He seemed to get calmer after that. His breathing slowed down and he drifted into sleep. Sometimes he would wake up, mumbling incoherent nonsense, and then he’d drift back to sleep again. One time he awoke, tossing his head from side to side, and grabbed the sheets with his clenched fists. “No, no, not the clowns!” he kept muttering under his breath.
I raised my eyebrows and smiled. Was he still feverish?
“Don’t worry about the clowns, Tris,” I said passing my hand over his head. He was slightly less feverish now.
“But … but they’ll get here! It’s so … unnatural …” he continued rambling. Unnatural clowns. I chuckled. Teasing him about this later was going to be so much fun!
I stifled a laugh. He seemed to be getting seriously agitated over this. Was he really freaking out over clowns? Everybody has an irrational fear, I guess …
>
“Don’t worry, Tris. I’ll take care of those clowns for you. You don’t have to worry about them any more,” I said reassuringly.
“Okay,” he mumbled, turning over.
He had his eyes still closed, but there was a small smile on his lips now. He looked so beautiful. So … sweet. I gave in to an impulse, and kissed him lightly. When I broke the kiss, he sighed softly and whispered so quietly I wouldn’t have heard if I hadn’t been so close to him.
“… love you, Joe,” I heard him say. I realized this was the second time he had said he loved me. Only the first time he’d done so, he’d broken my heart. And now he was kind of delirious. But still … twice it was. Maybe the third time would be for real, with no lies, no subterfuge, no fever, no hallucinations. Third time’s the charm, wasn’t that what people said? I needed to make the third time happen.
But first things first. To begin with, I needed to make him confess all when he was himself again. I’d make him buckle and cave and confess he loved me. I already had the most brilliant plan. I almost didn’t get any sleep that night, thinking about my evil plot to make Tristan crack. His fever vanished in the middle of the night, and he slept like a rock after that. When morning came, I was already up and about, rummaging in my bag. Tristan stirred in his bed and woke up sluggishly, leaning on his elbows and blinking at me, truly confused. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, without saying anything.
“Hey! You’re up,” I greeted, and walked over him, sitting on his bed. He continued blinking at me. “How do you feel? Better now?” I asked.
He tried to lean away from me and flinched, grimacing in pain. I guess he was still paying the price for our separation.
“Well, I guess not that better, huh?” I teased him. “Good, that serves you right for not calling me earlier!” I said, putting the palm of my hands to his face. I couldn’t feel any pinpricks any more. I guessed that whatever needed to be recharged was fully charged now.