And why did she put up with the twins calling her a freak in history class when they thought I couldn't hear them?
By the end of halftime, it had all combined into a heated ball in my stomach.... Anger at myself for taking Dylan's bait and getting pulled off the football team during the playoffs. Rage at the Clann for brainwashing all the descendants' kids into thinking a nice, innocent girl like Savannah was somehow a freak who should be avoided at all costs. And fury at Savannah herself for putting up with it and settling for being just a head manager.
So much stupidity and unfairness. And for what? Why?
I didn't get up when everyone else did for the third-quarter break. I was so mad I couldn't pry my hands from my bouncing knees. I didn't care that staying in the empty Charmers section practically guaranteed that my parents would see me here since they came to every JHS Indians football game to see Emily lead the cheerleading squad on the sidelines near the bleachers. Let them see that I was a Charmers escort. They'd pushed me into this.
I'd had enough of their controlling ways. Because I understood now. I was just like Savannah, wasn't I? I always did what my parents wanted, never stood up for anything I wanted for myself. My parents ran every part of my life. And I let them.
I hated to admit it, but maybe Dylan did have one thing right...some of the Clann's rules were just flat-out wrong.
At some point toward the end of the third quarter, everyone returned to the bleachers. Savannah came back to her seat beside me but didn't sit down. I could feel her looking at me, though I didn't look at her. I couldn't. If I did, I might yell or go hit a brick wall or something. I was already having a tough time controlling my energy level without seeing that sweet, patient expression I knew I'd find on her face.
"Tristan, did you want to go grab something to eat or drink? There's still enough time left in the quarter."
Once again, Savannah was thinking of someone other than herself. Bitter acid rose up in my throat. "No, thanks."
"Would you like me to bring you something instead?"
As if my legs were broken? Did she fetch for the dancers so much that she'd become everyone's servant? Gritting my teeth, I pushed out the words, "I don't need a slave, Savannah. If I want something, I'll get it myself."
"What?" she said, so quietly it was almost a whisper.
"You heard me. I said I can get it myself."
I never looked at her directly, but out of the corner of my eye I saw her body tense up. A few seconds later, she sat down, her back stiff.
Regret shot through me. I pushed it away. I wasn't going to apologize. Maybe I could have said it better, but I was still right. She did need to stop slaving for others all the time. Apparently I was the only person in her life who cared enough to tell her the truth.
She didn't speak to me for the rest of the game. Which was probably a good thing, because unlike her, I wasn't that nice. I couldn't just swallow my real thoughts and not spit out something that would show how ticked off I was by it all.
My foul mood carried me home, where Mom and Dad waited in the dimly lit kitchen. Dad was already in his favorite green house robe and matching slippers. Mom hadn't changed out of her designer jeans and Cheer Mom shirt yet.
Mom began, her arms tightly crossed. "So just when were you going to tell us about becoming a Charmers escort?"
I shrugged. They knew now. "What else was there? I'm barely passing Spanish and I suck at chess. You took away football. This is all I've got left."
"But, son, you know the Clann rules about staying clear of that Colbert girl," Dad said.
"She's not in charge of the escorts. And helping the Charmers is no different than having the same history class with her," I said, working to keep my returning fury in check.
Mom threw her hands in the air with a loud huff. "Why must you be so difficult? Why can't you just go to school, come home and do your magic training? You're already so far behind. How do you ever expect to lead the Clann if you keep wasting your time like this? And what is the Clann going to think about you working with that Colbert girl?"
"It's always about what the Clann thinks. What the Clann wants. What about what I want? You already took football away from me. What else are you going to take?" Blowing out a long breath, I turned and braced my hands against the cold granite surface of the island. "Maybe I should just leave the Clann."
Mom gasped.
"I get how important it is to you that I follow in your footsteps and become the next Clann leader," I said. "But that's what you guys want. It's not what I want."
Dad stepped closer to me. I turned my head to look at him. His face was twisted with hurt and confusion. "I thought you were enjoying the training. Do you really hate magic that much? Do you hate the Clann? Do you hate what I stand for as the Clann leader?"
My anger deflated a little. "No, Dad. Training with you has been fun. I love the time that we spend together working on spells and charms and stuff. But it's not what I want to do with my life. Magic is cool, but it's like a hobby."
"I thought football was your hobby," Dad muttered. "Something you would eventually grow out of. Just a passing phase."
"Yeah, well, it's not." I dropped my head and stared at the chaos of the mottled black-and-tan granite. "Look, I get it. I know I screwed up, and maybe I deserved to be taken off the football team for a while. I was stupid and I lost control. But my life can't be just about school and magic for the rest of the year. I need something else to do, or I'm gonna go crazy here."
Silence filled the kitchen for a long moment.
Finally Dad sighed and said, "All right, son. Let your mother and I talk this over tonight, and we'll all discuss it over breakfast. In the meantime, why don't you go do a little grounding and then get some rest."
They wanted me out of the house so they could talk. Fine, whatever. I nodded and headed out the patio door, sitting on the grass for a couple minutes. But for a change, I was already drained. I'd never spoken to my parents like that. All I wanted to do now was sleep. So I went back inside, up the stairs and down the hall toward my room.
At my doorway, I heard my parents' voices coming through their closed bedroom door. I hesitated, then eased closer until I could make out their words.
"Now, Nancy, you can't keep pushing him so hard," Dad said. "He's going to rebel, just like I did. Then he'll end up taking off, and we won't see him for years."