Anew

by Chelsea Fine

  “Why are you here?” Tristan looked around the porch, like he expected someone to be with her.

  “Um…my boyfriend lives here. So, I came here for him.”

  “Why didn’t you text first?” Tristan looked at her accusingly.

  Scarlet raised her eyebrows incredulously. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t know the rules. So, I need to text you before showing up on Gabriel’s doorstep? What else? Do I need to call for your approval before I kiss him?”

  Tristan rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

  “Um…I want to see Gabriel. Is that okay? Or are visiting hours over?” Scarlet took a step forward.

  Her brain wanted to smack Tristan out of the way and march into the cabin and wait for Gabriel to return.

  But her body wanted to permanently adhere itself to Tristan’s chest and run her fingers down his back.

  Scarlet took a step back.

  “Gabriel’s not here.” Tristan narrowed his eyes.

  “Oh, okay. You could have just said that. You didn’t need to bark at me like a disgruntled guard dog.”

  Tristan exhaled. “Are we done here?”

  Scarlet felt like she’d been kicked in the gut. Did Tristan hate her so much he couldn’t stand her on his front porch?

  “Oh, yes,” Scarlet quipped, mustering all the attitude she could. “We’re done.” And with that, she spun on her heel and walked away.

  She heard the cabin door slam shut behind her and waited until she was back in the safety of her car before she allowed her hands to shake.

  Not because she was angry.

  But because she was trying to hold back tears.

  Why did he affect her so much?

  Just then, her phone beeped. Scarlet looked down to find a text from Gabriel.

  I’m at your house. Where are you?

  Scarlet sighed. Gabriel probably wanted to surprise her, just like she’d wanted to surprise him.

  Because he was sweet.

  His twin? Not so sweet.

  I’m on my way.

  Scarlet sent her text and pulled out of woods, her heart pounding all the way home.

  40

  The next few weeks passed by easily. Scarlet got back into the groove of her “normal” life and started adjusting to her “I’m going to die” life. She and Gabriel had been diligently searching for any new information on the fountain’s whereabouts, and Heather had almost completely forgiven Gabriel for lying to Scarlet.

  Things were going well.

  Which was always a sure sign that something bad was about to happen.

  It was a cold Friday in October and pumpkins decorated the entire town of Avalon.

  Halloween was close and Heather was concerned about her costume.

  “Do you think evil girl zombies wear jewelry? Because, without earrings on, I look like a boy. Maybe I should just be Cleopatra.”

  They were at The Millhouse along with, what seemed like, everybody else in town. The chill of autumn had arrived and everyone wanted a cup of hot coffee.

  “Weren’t you Cleopatra last year?” Scarlet looked out the window, waiting for Gabriel. He and Scarlet had plans to go to the movies.

  “Yes.” Heather nodded. “And I was super sexy.” She tapped her chin, “I’m not sure how to make myself sexy as a dead girl.”

  “Perplexing.” Scarlet nodded.

  “Angie’s Halloween party is going to be so much fun! What are you going to be?”

  “I’m going to be sleeping. Or eating ice cream. But definitely not dressed up at a Halloween party.”

  Heather pouted. “Come on, Scarlet. You have to go.”

  “No, I don’t.” Scarlet smiled. “Are you excited about your trip tomorrow?”

  There was no school next week because of fall break and Heather had been looking forward to her family vacation all year.

  Heather smiled. “Totally. I really need a beach vacation. What are you and Laura doing for fall break?”

  Scarlet sighed. “Laura’s got a business trip in Europe or something all week. She left this morning.”

  Heather nodded. “Laura travels a lot.”

  “It’s what she does.”

  Heather glanced out the window. “Look, there’s Marge the Bag Lady.”

  “Don’t call her that, Heather. It’s mean.” Scarlet looked out the coffee house window at the homeless woman Heather was referring to.

  “Okay, how about Marge the crazy lady who talks to shoes?” Heather said.

  “She’s not crazy, she’s just…homeless…and probably…lonely.”

  Scarlet’s heart squeezed in sympathy, and then began to beat wildly.

  “And there’s Gabriel.” Heather nodded.

  Looking outside Scarlet spied Gabriel walking down the street.

  He walked a few steps past Marge, hesitated, and slowly turned around.

  The girls watched as he said something to Marge, making her smile.

  They talked for a minute before Marge laughed pleasantly. Scarlet had never seen Marge laugh before. Gabriel smiled.

  Scarlet blinked.

  It wasn’t Gabriel talking to a homeless woman on an icy day in downtown Avalon.

  It was Tristan.

  She’d never seen Tristan smile before. His dimples were deep and warm, and his eyes lit up. His smile was…beautiful.

  The same Tristan who didn’t want Scarlet around and was unfriendly to her whenever she was at his cabin, was standing in the cold and making a homeless woman laugh.

  Scarlet was happy and sad…and completely confused. “That’s Gabriel’s brother.”

  Heather, who’d just taken a heavy gulp of hot tea, swallowed loudly. “That’s…Tristan?”

  Scarlet nodded, her eyes still glued to the interaction outside the coffee shop window.

  Heather set her cup down and examined him more closely. “How can you tell?”

  Scarlet honestly didn’t know how she knew it was Tristan. She just…felt it. “I don’t know…but that’s definitely Tristan.”

  She must be connected to him in some way…right?

  Heather parted her lips, “Well, Tristan is hot.”

  Scarlet pulled her eyes away from the window and looked at Heather with a jutted chin.

  She shrugged. “What? He is.”

  Scarlet shook her head.

  “Get up.” Heather started cleaning up their small table and began gathering her things.

  “What? Why?” Scarlet said, panic in her voice. She knew exactly why Heather was bustling. And she had no intention of cooperating.

  “Because. I want to meet the mystery brother.”

  Scarlet shook her head. “No way. Tristan hates me, Heather.”

  She scrunched her face. “He doesn’t hate you, he’s just…rude to you. That’s all. He’s probably just a mean person by nature or something.”

  Both girls looked out the window where Tristan was still talking to Marge.

  “Or,” Heather said, still looking out the window, “he’s just a really sweet guy with a big heart who happens to…somewhat dislike you.”

  Scarlet shook her head again, confused. How could Tristan be so warm to a stranger on the street, but so cold and distant to his own brother’s girlfriend? “We’re not going to meet Tristan, Heather. I don’t want to talk to him.”

  Heather bit her lip for a second. “Okay,” she said, then moved toward the front door.

  “Wh-where are you going?” Scarlet called out.

  Heather shrugged. “I want to meet the mystery twin. So, you can either stay there like a cowardly schoolgirl, or you can come along and keep me from saying inappropriate things to the newest hunk in town.” Heather wagged her eyebrows.

  “Come on, Heather.”

  “What’s it gonna be, Scarlet?”

  Scarlet hesitated, frustrated with her boy-crazy friend. She didn’t want to talk to Tristan.

  But she also didn’t want her best friend to meet Tristan and start prying. Who knew what Tristan would reve
al about Scarlet? Or Gabriel.

  “You’re such a bully,” Scarlet said with a sigh as she rose to meet Heather. “You’re lucky I love you.”

  Heather’s smile grew. “I know. Now, let’s go chat with Tristan, the hot twin.”

  Scarlet’s heart kicked a beat as they left the coffee shop and walked toward Tristan.

  Actually, her heart pounded harder and harder as she neared him.

  She tried not to over-analyze that too much.

  “Tristan!” Heather called out, as if she and Tristan were old pals from grade school or something.

  Tristan turned around and looked at Heather curiously. His eyes saw Scarlet, and immediate darkness crossed his face.

  Great.

  Heather bounced over to Tristan and Marge. “Hi. Marge.” Heather said, waving to the lady who’d lived on Main Street for as long as Scarlet could remember.

  Marge gave a toothless smile and nodded as Scarlet slowly walked up beside Heather.

  “Hi Marge,” Scarlet said softly.

  “Sweet girls,” Marge said, clapping her hands together and cooing. “Sweet girls!” She looked at Tristan. “You, dear boy, are kind. But my boots have been misbehaving. I must get back to them.” Marge stood up from the ground and shuffled away, cackling as she went.

  Tristan, Heather, and Scarlet watched as she left, her cackling turning into an off-pitch song as she disappeared around a corner.

  Tristan turned to look at Scarlet, holding her eyes with his for a brief moment before looking at Heather.

  “I’m Heather.” Heather stuck her hand out.

  Tristan took her hand. “Tristan.”

  “I know. You’re Gabriel’s secret twin brother.” Heather batted her lashes.

  Scarlet rolled her eyes.

  “I’m Scarlet’s B-F-F,” Heather explained as their handshake ended. She looked at his eyes. “Wow. You have really green eyes. How is that possible? Gabriel has brown eyes. Aren’t you two supposed to be, like, identical twins?”

  Tristan gave a small smile and said with mock seriousness, “Would you believe some crazy woman shot me with a magical arrow and forever altered my eye color?”

  Heather’s eyes grew wide as Scarlet looked at Tristan with her mouth falling open.

  What was he doing?

  Tristan glanced at Scarlet, but made no expression.

  Heather nodded and mimicked his sarcastic tone, “I would believe that. And would you believe that I saw you in the warehouse district hanging out with a shady dude a few weeks ago?” She raised a challenging eyebrow.

  Tristan’s smile tightened.

  “I would believe that.”

  “Well, this looks friendly,” Gabriel said, appearing at Scarlet’s side and putting a halt to the very uncomfortable tension filling up between Heather and Tristan. “What’s going on?” He looked at Tristan and cocked his head to the side.

  Tristan looked at his twin. “Nothing.”

  “Well, in that case,” Gabriel gave Scarlet a kiss on the cheek. “We need to get going if we want to get to the movie on time.”

  Scarlet looked at him and smiled.

  Movies. Right.

  “Okay, well, this has been fun.” Not. Scarlet turned to Heather, deliberately not looking at Tristan. “See you later?”

  She gave Heather a quick hug goodbye and watched as Tristan turned and walked away without a word during their embrace.

  Yep. He hates me.

  As he walked away, Scarlet’s pounding heart began to subside.

  41

  Late that evening, Scarlet was in a dead and peaceful sleep when she heard a noise downstairs. Her eyes flew open as she sat up in bed, listening.

  Someone was in the house.

  She heard a faint shuffle and a creak on the downstairs floor.

  Of course something totally freaky would happen while Laura was a million miles away.

  Slowly and quietly, Scarlet crept out of bed.

  She looked around her room for her cell phone and wanted to groan. She’d left it downstairs on the kitchen table. How was she going to call the police?

  Okay, don’t panic.

  She heard a second creak on the staircase and realized the intruder was making his way upstairs.

  Scarlet panicked.

  Should I fight?

  Nope.

  Should I hide?

  Maybe.

  Should I run?

  Definitely.

  Frozen in the darkness of her bedroom, Scarlet formulated a plan to exit her house without tipping off the intruder.

  She tiptoed to her cracked bedroom door and peeked into the black hallway. If she could slink out of her room and hide in the hall bathroom at the top of the stairs until the intruder passed by, then she could run downstairs and out the front door, screaming like a crazy person.

  Yes. That was a good plan.

  She pulled open her bedroom door just wide enough to fit her slim body through.

  Creak.

  The stranger was higher up on the stairs—she had to hurry.

  Slipping through her doorway, Scarlet snuck along the dark hallway wall and into the bathroom. She hid behind the open bathroom door and peeked out between the door hinges, her eyes fixed on the stairs.

  Her breath was shaky as she waited in silence.

  All the lights were off in the house, making it impossible to see anything clearly. Moonlight spilling in from the windows was the only illumination.

  A silhouetted figure appeared at the top of the stairs and paused.

  It was a male form—a figure and body type she’d never seen before.

  A stranger.

  Scarlet began to shake, cursing herself for leaving her phone downstairs.

  The figure, whose features were indiscernible in the darkness, cocked his head to the side like he was listening for something.

  Scarlet held her breath.

  Slowly, he moved down the hallway. When he walked passed the bathroom, Scarlet was sure her pounding heart would give her away.

  But it didn’t.

  The stranger crept along. Past the bathroom. Past Laura’s room. But stopped at Scarlet’s bedroom, and stood outside her door.

  Scarlet wanted to cry.

  He thought she was in there.

  He thought she was sleeping in her bed. Alone. Vulnerable.

  This was more than just an intruder. This was someone after Scarlet personally.

  She watched him silently enter her dark bedroom.

  Without another thought, Scarlet scooted from behind the bathroom door and tiptoed into the hallway. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream.

  But, mostly, she wanted to live.

  As quietly as she could, Scarlet turned her back on her bedroom and hurried to the staircase.

  She’d just reached the top of the stairs, when a strong, male hand covered her mouth and pulled her back up against a strong body.

  I’m going to die.

  42

  Tristan could barely control his fear when he whispered into Scarlet’s ear, “Get out of here!”

  There was a strange man in Scarlet’s bedroom.

  In the middle of the night.

  When no one else was home.

  Tristan had watched him enter Scarlet’s house a few minutes ago and immediately followed him inside. He’d seen the stranger head straight for Scarlet’s bedroom and nearly lost his mind.

  Tristan didn’t know what the intruder was after, but he didn’t care.

  He was a threat to Scarlet.

  And he would die.

  43

  Scarlet calmed down as soon as she registered Tristan’s voice in her ear.

  If Tristan was here, she was safe.

  How she knew that, Scarlet didn’t know. But she believed it with all her heart.

  Still wrapped in his arms, Scarlet let her body sink into him as she exhaled.

  She stopped shaking, but her heart started thudding like it was under attack.

  And, without war
ning, her eyes went blind went a memory.

  She was in the forest. With Tristan.

  They were standing the same way, his arms wrapped around her body as she rested her back against his chest.

  But they weren’t in danger.

  In was nighttime, and there were a million stars winking at them from the heavens. The dark forest trees softly danced in the warm wind and his voice was close to her ear when he said, “I promise.”

  The memory slipped away, and Scarlet was again at the top of her staircase. In Tristan’s arms. He released her and, for the first time since he’d grabbed her, Scarlet realized Tristan wasn’t the intruder.

  Which meant the bad guy was still in her bedroom….

  For brief moment, Scarlet didn’t move.

  Tristan’s voice was full-volume and stern when he yelled, “Run!”

  Scarlet blinked one time, before doing exactly that.

  She ran.

  She’d almost reached the bottom of the stairs when she heard a rustling followed by a series of thumps and groans.

  Alarm shot through her as she looked back up at the top of the staircase.

  From the light of the moon she could see Tristan wrestling with the stranger, arms and legs flailing in the darkness. Moonlight glinted off the blade of a knife in the stranger’s hand—a knife he was stabbing Tristan with.

  A surge of adrenaline rushed through Scarlet’s veins as she reached the main floor. She hurried to the kitchen table and found her cell phone.

  She had just dialed 9-1- when she glanced back up and saw Tristan pull something from his back pocket and thrust it into the stranger’s abdomen, weakening his opponent greatly.

  The stranger yelped and fell backward, his large body tumbling down the staircase and into the entryway.

  Scarlet froze, paralyzed by fear.

  She watched in horror as the stranger, gripping his midsection, stood from his fall, looked once at Scarlet, and fled out front door.

  With the phone still in her hands, Scarlet smacked at the wall beside her until she found the light switch. Flicking it on, she saw Tristan hurry to the base of the stairs and look at her with wild eyes. “Scarlet, get out of here!”

  She noticed a deep gash on his forehead bleeding down the side of his face. Several gashes marked up his arms and chest, coating his shirt in blood. He needed stitches. Or a doctor.