I could sure hope so. Otherwise, they would find out about Tristan, and my feelings for him, in no time. "So if being around Dad was so peaceful and all, and you were in love, why did you ever break up?"
She sighed, relaxing back in her chair. That made me relax and my hands were again reaching for pizza. "Because I grew up, and breaking the rules got old. Especially after you were born. The idea of constantly being on the run from not one but two international societies of witches and vampires with a baby on board was just too much. We started fighting all the time, over little things at first, then bigger issues, until it got to the point where I couldn't remember why being on the run with him was even worth it anymore. That's when we both realized it was over. Going against the flow might seem adventurous at first, but eventually you get worn-out. The river always wins."
Something in her words, or maybe the softness in her voice, made my chest ache, like a heavy weight had just been dropped onto me. My eyes burned, and I had to blink sudden tears away.
"Oh, hon, don't be sad." She leaned forward and covered my hands on the table with one of hers. "I had some good times with your dad, too. And, hey, I got you out of the deal. What more could I ask for?" She grinned.
But I wasn't really feeling sad for her, so much as for myself and Tristan. Because Tristan was asking me to do the exact same thing my father had once asked of my mother...to go against the flow. To break the rules. To be adventurous.
Except I had a feeling Mom might be right. How could we ever win against both the vampire council and the Clann, if they found out about us?
The river always wins....
But even that didn't change how much I wanted him.
"Have dinner with me?"
Tristan had added something new to our morning and afternoon routine. Telling him no should have gotten easier, considering he was now asking me twice a day. But nothing about fighting the attraction between us was getting any easier.
Probably because deep down I didn't want to fight it.
By the end of a solid week of his new routine, I thought I really might go nuts. Five days of telling him no, I could not go out with him, twice a day, and every time he asked, all I wanted to do was shout yes. By Friday morning, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed a break from him. He was trying to wear me down with temptation. But he didn't understand; this wasn't about what I wanted. Mom and Nanna trusted me to follow the rules. I absolutely could not go out with him.
Still, I couldn't get the memory of our kiss out of my mind, and he seemed to find a thousand different reasons to be close to me or accidentally touch me. Every time I looked at him after yet another casual brush or bump, he seemed unaware of the contact. But no way did he not know what he was doing.
I wanted to scream.
The situation had started to affect my memory, too.
Tristan stunned both me and Mrs. Daniels at the start of Friday morning's practice by interrupting our pre-practice chat for the first time.
"You forgot this," he said to me, handing me the director's headset for the MegaVox.
Oh, crap. I'd never forgotten her headset before. But why didn't he just hand it directly to Mrs. Daniels? I accepted the headset from him, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. His fingers brushed mine. Oh, of course. If he'd given the headset directly to Mrs. Daniels, then he couldn't touch my fingers and drive me even more crazy.
My temper shooting up, I snapped, "Thanks."
I finished the conversation with the amused director, then stomped down the metal bleachers, my footsteps ringing clear as bells despite the fact that the captain was yelling out instructions for the team.
"Miss Savannah," one of the freshmen managers said as I returned to the sound system. "Are you ready for us to go put out the game-day locker notes?"
"Yes," I replied out of habit without looking up. We switched out this duty every other week with the cheerleaders and had it down to a science. Then I had an idea. "On second thought, wait. Let's change things up. Tristan needs to know how to do that, too. So one of you stay with me, and one of you go with him to put up the notes." It was pure genius. Why hadn't I thought of this before?
"Which one-"
"Either, I don't care." I was snapping at the poor freshmen now. Great. I took a deep breath, made myself smile a little and said in a softer tone, "You two decide."
My forced smile turned into a real one when the girls had to resort to a quick game of rock-paper-scissors to decide who would go. The victor gave a short squeal of delight.
Tristan scowled at me before walking off with the winner toward the school buildings.
Once he was gone from sight, I sighed and rolled the tension out of my shoulders. Carrying the sound system back to the office this morning wouldn't be fun, but I'd done it most of last summer without his help. I'd carry the heavier MegaVox so my manager could have the much lighter jam box. It would be worth it just to have a break from the relentless need I felt when around him. Plus, he wouldn't have a chance this morning to ask me out, since he always asked right after we locked up the sound system at the end of every practice.
Once we reached Mrs. Daniels's office, I had another brilliant idea. I also had my manager help me load all the Secret Sis gifts into my truck so Tristan wouldn't need to help me later.
Unfortunately, a quick stop by my locker before lunch proved I hadn't totally thwarted him. He hadn't just put out good-luck notes on the football players' lockers. He'd also left me a little note, handwritten across the back of a blue Charmers game-day note and stuffed between the slats of my locker. Usually the game-day notes said something like "Good luck at tonight's game!" This note said something different.
Please have dinner with me.
That night, I went through the first half of the game on autopilot, too lost in thought to see any of the action on the field.
I wished I could ask someone what to do about Tristan. Then again, I knew all my friends and family well enough to guess what each one would say if asked.
Michelle kept an eye on social status like some people memorized sports stats. For her, my dating Tristan would be an easy and ecstatic yes! After all, Tristan was rock-star hot in every way. And as Michelle and many other girls at JHS would see it, dating Tristan would mean an instant rise in social status, making a girl immediately worthy of notice. The longer a girl could hold his attention, the more noteworthy she became.