"Man, the ladies don't want to see your two puny inches," someone joked from the other side of the lockers.
"You're a jackass," I muttered to Dylan. Why did I still call him my best friend? Right now, I was seriously considering hitting him upside the head.
Hmm. I couldn't hit him, but I could...
The twisted wet towel hit Dylan's bare butt with a loud crack, followed by his even louder howl.
Yeah, that would do for now.
Savannah
I ignored Dylan's leer as I entered the tiny portable building for yet another fun-filled history class. Talk about a grade A jerk. Dylan probably thought he was a real stud, flashing me this morning. Usually Head Manager Amber sent Vicki or Keisha out to the field house for bags of ice at the end of Charmers practice. But this weekend, Mrs. Daniels had dropped a bomb on us. Head Manager Amber was moving away; her mother had gotten a new job in Dallas. Vicki and Keisha were filling in as alternate dancers for two Charmers who had gotten hurt last week in a stunt that had gone wrong. Since I was still reluctantly keeping my promise to the vampire council about not dancing anymore, that left me as the new head manager who had to lead around two silly freshmen office aides temporarily on loan from the front office.
I hadn't trusted the new managers not to get lost or distracted at the field house, so they had been given the job of stowing the music system while I fetched ice bags and wrapped injuries at the end of the morning practices. After this morning, though, I might have to change that job assignment around.
Not because of Dylan. Dylan's immature display this morning had made me blush, but he was just an annoying moron, like most of the Clann kids who tried to bully me. I could ignore him.
The football player and descendant whom I couldn't manage to ignore, despite my every effort to, was Tristan. Four weeks had only made me see more clearly how dangerously strong my feelings were for him. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, those same four weeks had totally killed his sudden feelings for me. If he'd ever really felt anything in the first place.
Like now. Here I was, unable to stop thinking about the guy stretched out in his desk just inches away from me. And he obviously couldn't care less in return. Not an eye flicker my way. No reaction if I moved or dropped a pen. Nothing. Four weeks ago, it was all hearts and roses and promises of undying love outside the cafeteria after beating up my ex-boyfriend. Now I didn't exist at all. Exactly as I should have expected all along from him, given our history together.
Part of me-the logical part-said I was extremely lucky that my gaze daze had worn off both him and Greg right after their fight. And yet my heart still stupidly ached over the fact that they were both avoiding me now. Tristan was a player; of course he would blow hot and cold, and I was just an idiot for hoping otherwise. But Greg had never seemed the type of guy to act like that. His other ex-girlfriends were still friends with him. Why couldn't we stay friends, too?
I found myself missing Greg at the weirdest times now. Like last Saturday on my sixteenth birthday when I should have been nothing but happy, I ended up spending most of the slumber party with my friends wondering whether Greg might remember my birthday and call or text or something. If we had still been together, he probably would have taken me out somewhere to celebrate.
And then last Wednesday when I passed my driver's exam and got my license, one of the Charmers teased me about how the blue backdrop in my photo made my hair look the exact same color as carrots. I couldn't tell my friends about that; they would have seen it as proof that all Charmers were evil, when in fact the girl had only been joking around with me. But I could have told Greg. If we were still friends. If he wasn't avoiding me like the plague.
Maybe it was better that both boys were ignoring me now. That way, there was no danger of Greg getting accidentally gaze dazed again. And I wouldn't have to argue with Tristan about why we shouldn't break the rules and date each other.
I just wished I could forget as easily as they did. Then I wouldn't be constantly tormented with the memories.
Memories of dancing with Greg at the homecoming dance...
Tristan whispering my name, looking down at me as we stood so close together...
Greg hissing my name over and over as his mouth pressed bruising kisses along my cheeks and neck...
The look in Tristan's eyes as he'd thrown Greg to the ground...
Sighing, I rested my forehead in my hand, using my forearm to block my peripheral view of Tristan. Lord, how I hated this class. Everywhere else, I could stay busy, find ways to think about something else. But in here, with Tristan just inches away, it was impossible to think about anything but the past.
A past I wanted to forget. Needed to forget, if I ever hoped to like myself again.
Because in that moment when I'd found myself pressed against Tristan outside the cafeteria, my fingertips touching the blood on his lip, when I'd realized I was staring right into his eyes...
I'd wanted my gaze to affect him.
Worse yet, while part of me was happy to see him clear eyed now and able to focus on Mr. Smythe's lecture, a darker part of me wished he hadn't recovered at all.
I should be locked up. I was a menace to the male half of society. And a scary freak to the other half.
Since no one had locked me up yet, the next best thing I could do was aim for nunhood. Which wasn't a hardship, since the only guy I wanted was a notorious player who was off-limits anyway. Mom might have been exaggerating when she said my dating someone in the Clann could start a war between them and the vampires. But just in case she wasn't, I planned to avoid Tristan as much as possible from now on.
If only I could stop myself from craving him every waking minute of the day!
One of my many mistakes with him was ever allowing him to see that I still cared about him. But I wouldn't be repeating that mistake again. I would just have to get better at hiding my emotions around him.
Starting now.
With a sigh, I rested my chin in my hand and tried to ignore Tristan's long, muscled body stretched out in the desk beside me. And his soft, curly hair as he bent over to gather up his stuff from under his desk...
"What, the view this morning wasn't enough for you, princess?" Dylan's too-close drawl yanked me from my thoughts.
He was standing in front of me, planting his crotch in my direct line of sight. I'd been too lost in thought to notice the bell had rung and everyone was getting up to leave. Great.
Don't react, I told myself. That's what he wants, to see you look embarrassed.