"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.