by M. K. Easley
Tristan shook her head quickly, trying to clear the melancholy that had settled in before someone noticed how quiet she’d fallen. She leaned into Beckett and he gently held her close, rubbing her arm while still in conversation with Tyler. Tristan’s eyes moved to Olivia, who looked back at her knowingly, her own eyes shimmering with sadness for just a moment before they cleared. Tristan knew Olivia was having a hard time with the idea of Tristan deflecting -- for all of the obvious reasons, of course, but also because they would lose the connection that linked them in a way common sisters never had the fortune of experiencing. It made Tristan’s heart hurt to know Olivia was grieving, but she also knew that Olivia would be OK, and so would their relationship; they had much, much more that bound them than their abilities.
When darkness began to fall, Olivia, Tyler, and Evander departed, Olivia wishing Tristan and Beckett luck with the night ahead. Finally alone, Beckett turned to Tristan, slipping his hands around her waist.
“I’ve been waiting for today since Monday.”
“Me too.”
“Did you have a good birthday celebration?”
Tristan nodded, her eyes lingering on Beckett's lips.
“The best one I can ever remember having.”
“Good.” Beckett grinned, noticing her distraction. “What do you want to do now?”
Tristan thought it over for a moment, looking behind her at the remaining s'mores ingredients. “Why don’t we sit by the fire for just a little longer?”
Beckett smiled and followed Tristan back to the stone circle, sitting behind her and scooting up until she rested against him. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned her head back, looking up at him for a few wordless beats.
“What’s on your mind, gorgeous?”
Tristan smiled.
“For once, nothing. I’m just enjoying being here with you.”
“We could stay here. Who needs to graduate, really?”
“Right, and who needs Boston, or a future at all?” Tristan laughed.
“Speaking of Boston, have you thought more about the apartment idea?”
“I have,” Tristan nodded thoughtfully. “I think the first step is breaking the news of my WLU acceptance to my parents, and then going from there. But that aside, I don’t think it sounds like a bad idea.”
“It’s a great idea. You and me, alone together, every day, every night…”
Tristan laughed.
“You don’t have to convince me to want to spend as much time as possible with you, trust me.”
“But?”
“It's just a lot to think about.”
Beckett kissed her temple.
“We've got time.”
Eventually the s'mores disappeared and the fire burned down to cinder, and Tristan and Beckett climbed into their tent for the night. Beckett pulled Tristan close to him before she had a chance to start changing into her pajamas, and she smiled against his mouth, deciding he had a much better plan in mind.
Chapter 34
The following Friday, as Tristan and Beckett sat by the lake putting the finishing touches on their senior project, which had come together earlier and more seamlessly than they had anticipated, Beckett grinned at her, a glimmer in his eye that both amused her and made her feel uneasy.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I have a surprise for you.”
“What’s that?” Tristan hated surprises.
“OK, hear me out. I know you said no. I know you have your family meeting--”
“Beckett--”
“--But you see them every month and we only get one senior prom, and I want nothing more than to take you. I promise we’ll have an amazing night, and we can go into New Orleans afterwards, and we can spend the next day there.”
“Beckett--”
Beckett hopped up off of the bench, oblivious to or ignoring Tristan’s frustration that had her on the verge of tears, and he pulled two tickets out of his back pocket.
“Tristan Wallace, will you please go to prom with me tomorrow night?”
“I can’t.” Tristan looked at him incredulously, and his face fell. “I told you that. Beckett, I’m sorry, but I don’t know how I could have made it any clearer. I cannot get out of my family’s reunion. I’m sorry.”
“You can’t, or you don’t want to? Because I seem to recall you saying you can’t get out of it but also that you don’t want to go to prom.” Beckett crossed his arms, and Tristan stood.
“I can’t. I know you want to go and want me to go with you, so I would if I could... but I can’t.”
“Well then you need to tell me where you really go and what you really do every month, Tristan, because there is no such thing as a family reunion that happens every thirty days and is mandatory.”
“There is in my family.”
“No, there isn’t. Why are you lying to me? Why have you been lying to me? I thought… I...”
Beckett shoved his hands through his hair, looking caught somewhere between angry and exasperated. This was the first time since they’d started dating that they were arguing, the first time Beckett was holding his ground over Tristan’s secrecy and weird family rituals, and while Tristan knew to expect it sooner or later, she had been hoping for much, much later. She had been hoping he'd stick to his word that he'd be patient until graduation.
“I’m not lying. Beckett, please.” Tristan took a step towards him, but Beckett stiffened up and she stopped, pain piercing her heart. “Please.”
“I love you,” Beckett said fiercely, his own hurt written all over his face. “But I also know you, and I know you’re lying to me. I just want to know why. It’s killing me, Tristan; every day it kills me a little bit more that there are all these things about you and your life and your family that you won’t tell me, but I keep waiting because that’s what you’ve asked me to do. And now I’m asking you to do something that’s important to me, like not pressing you for your secrets has been to you, and you won’t?”
Tears streaked down Tristan’s face and she quickly wiped them away.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
“You can say you’ll go to prom with me, or you can tell me why you really can’t.”
“No.”
Beckett looked floored.
“No?”
“No. I’m sorry. You should go, though; I think Tyler is going solo since Olivia can't. You should go with your friends and have a great time, but I...” Tristan felt like her insides were being torn apart, evidenced by her wavering voice, but she held her chin high and firm.
She reached out to Beckett again, but he put his hand out, stopping her, and stepped away.
“Please, Beckett. You said you’d stick by me no matter what happened. You said you'd give me until graduation.” Tristan’s voice was barely above a whisper now, and she knew it wasn’t fair to use his words against him, but she needed him to understand just one more time. One more time and if he ever asked again, she’d tell him everything.
“I know what I said.”
“Then do it!” Tristan cried. An unexpected wave of bitterness surged through her. “Or were you lying?”
“Don’t turn this around on me, Tristan. I love you no matter what happens, and I’m not walking away from you now or giving up on loving you, I’m just asking you for the truth! That’s all I want from you! Stop lying and finally tell me the truth!” Beckett tried to keep his voice down, but the end came out in a shout that destroyed what little restraint Tristan had left.
“I can’t tell you the truth!” Tristan yelled back, on a sob. “OK? There! Fine, I’m lying if that’s what you want to hear! But I can’t tell you the truth yet, Beckett, so you’ll either have to deal with that until graduation like you promised, or we’ll have to break up!”
Tristan knew in that instant that she would curse her eidetic memory for the rest of her days. Beckett’s stunned expression, the absolute heartbreak in his eyes and on every plane of his
face, branded itself into each layer of her brain. As Beckett grabbed his backpack and left without another word, all Tristan could do was bury her face in her hands and weep.
***
At home, Tristan sat numbly on the edge of her bed, staring unseeingly out her window. Every part of her ached; her insides were inflamed and raw. She had made the right decision, somewhere deep down she knew that -- Orion was watching her, and telling Beckett what was going on would immediately expose him, make him a target, and that was a risk Tristan would never take, no matter the cost. That knowledge didn’t make anything better, however. Protecting Beckett by hurting him, even for the greater good, had been brutal for them both. Sure, so it was only their senior prom he’d asked her to attend, and it wouldn’t be the end of the world if neither of them went, but Tristan knew the prom had just been a facade for the months of frustration and bewilderment Beckett was feeling. She knew it had merely been the catalyst for his blow-up, and that while prom probably was important to him, what was most important was knowing why Tristan was lying to him.
Tristan didn’t need to put herself in his shoes to know how he was feeling. She knew perfectly well how it looked, and how it must feel to just want answers and to have someone flat out refuse them, or to offer an adequate apology for the refusal.
Tristan heard the front door open and close, and then footsteps come up the stairs.
“Hey, Trin, do y--” Olivia was saying, but she stopped short. “Trinity?”
Tristan cleared the thickness out of her throat, but still didn’t turn around. She blinked a few times, trying to get herself together.
“Hey, O,” Tristan said flatly.
Olivia eyeballed Tristan from the doorway. Her sister was still in her Jamestown uniform, her braid hanging in a perfect line halfway down her back. Her shoulders were squared, but her vibe was so sorrowful that it had stopped Olivia in her tracks. She bit her lip, popping into Tristan’s thoughts with very little effort, which also meant Tristan was unsealed. None of this pointed to anything good.
As Olivia watched, Tristan’s fight by the lake with Beckett unfolded. Beckett stormed off, and Olivia was filled with all of Tristan’s emotions as he went, which had tears gathering in Olivia’s eyes.
“Oh Trinity, I’m so sorry,” Olivia said quietly.
Tristan said nothing.
“Do you want company?”
“No thank you.”
Olivia nodded.
“Do you think you should--”
“No.”
“But maybe you should just tell him--”
“No.”
Olivia nodded again. She understood Tristan’s motives for keeping Beckett in the dark; it was the only way she knew she could keep him safe. Olivia wanted to point out that Orion was ruthless and it probably wouldn’t matter in the end whether or not Beckett knew anything, if Orion decided to go after him to hurt Tristan, but Olivia didn’t want to add to her sister’s misery.
“If you change your mind about wanting company, I’ll be in my room for a while before I go out tonight.”
Tristan had lapsed back into silence, and Olivia left, softly closing the door behind her. Tristan sat there for a while longer, then stood and changed out of her uniform, into a pair of soft black shorts and a white t-shirt. She laid on her bed, pulling her knees up to her chest, and resumed her blank stare out the window. The sky gradually changed, bright blue to dusky indigo to the same deep navy as the stripes on Beckett’s comforter. Inexplicably, this was what stomped the rest of Tristan’s heart flat, and she pulled her legs in closer to her body, wishing she could keep pulling herself into a ball until she just disappeared with a pop. Could this really be it? Could this really be the end of her and Beckett until their destiny connection brought them back together, if it even did in this lifetime? A lie too big to keep fitting between them, a plea for honesty, a refusal. A departure. Their argument had felt like it had stopped time itself, but it had only lasted a few minutes. Amazing how quickly something could unravel if given just a few minutes.
Tristan closed her eyes, but Beckett’s face was waiting. Betrayed. Heartbroken. Confused. Not a trace of anger, somehow, which made it all the worse. It would be easier if he’d left angry. It would be easier if his love for her had soured into hatred. Tristan squeezed her eyes shut harder, but the memories were coming now and cared not for her pain. Beckett holding her hand at school, watching only her while the rest of the students watched them, still curious as to how their relationship worked. Beckett pushing her hair behind her ears, his fingers warm and sure on the back of her neck as he kissed her. Beckett holding her in his bed the morning after the gathering, putting her back together without knowing how broken she’d been. Beckett pulling her up off of the porch swing and into his arms when she’d told him she loved him. Smiling at her as they’d tubed on the river. Asking her to stay with him when his parents had been arrested, his face so open and vulnerable. Tearing through Emmeline and her friends to rescue her, his entire body shaking with panic and lividity. Beckett kissing her for the first time, quickly as though if he hadn’t, he would have missed his chance. As if he ever would have missed his chance. Beckett, Beckett, Beckett. Tristan had no other memories.
***
Olivia must have filled in the rest of the family about what had happened, for everyone left Tristan alone that night, and even into the next morning. She ate breakfast at the table with them, but she wasn’t there, not really, and Sol and Umbris exchanged more than one worried look while Olivia and Evander filled the gaps in conversation that would have normally been filled by Tristan. Still, they let her be.
Tristan excused herself and no one argued, and she headed upstairs to shower before her shift at Rise and Grind. She left the house earlier than she needed to, weaving her wet hair into a braid, and she sat at a table in the back of the café, nose buried in a book, until it was time to clock in. Even Joe, who was generally oblivious and no master of subtlety by any stretch, could tell something was wrong and left her alone.
Alone. Tristan appreciated that no one was prying or saying things like “you’re so young, there’s plenty of fish in the sea!” or “it’s never love at this age anyway, you’ll be OK” or “at least this happened now, a month before the acceptance ceremony, instead of at the same time” (that last one was an actual thought she’d heard Umbris have), but alone was a hard thing to be when it wasn’t what she wanted, and worse still when the only person who could really make it right didn’t owe it to her to try, and wouldn’t.
Tristan’s face went red at her secret shame. She’d texted Beckett late last night, several times, to say she was sorry and that she wished she could explain but that she couldn’t yet. Desperation had compelled her to add that she loved him and always would, had compelled her to beg him to please understand just one last time and trust her that she would tell him everything as soon as she could.
He’d said nothing, which shocked Tristan and didn’t. She was saying nothing different than what she’d said when they’d argued, so why would he respond? She was begging him for a mile, but wouldn’t give him an inch.
Violetta was the only person who would not handle Tristan with kid gloves.
“I heard you and Beckett broke up,” Violetta said unceremoniously, leaning her hip on the counter next to Tristan, who was staring absentmindedly at the wall.
Tristan’s head whipped around.
“What?”
Violetta nodded, her face not unkind.
“Of course I heard. Everyone has. You know how it goes.”
“Great. I’m so glad he’s telling people,” Tristan muttered.
“Beckett didn’t tell anyone.”
Tristan snorted.
“Well that leaves me and I only told my sister, and I know she’d never throw a scrap to the Jamestown hounds. So sorry, but I don’t buy it.”
“It wasn’t Beckett. It was Dean Ward, from my grade. Apparently you and Beckett were yelling at each other by the lake and
he overheard.”
Tristan’s face burned with embarrassment.
“I didn’t think there was anyone around.”
“You know Jamestown -- there are eyes and ears everywhere.”
“So I guess I can expect the bitch brigade, led by Sergeant Emmeline, to roll in any minute now?”
Violetta shrugged.
“Probably. Hosebeasts gonna hosebeast.”
“Fantastic.”
Violetta observed Tristan for a moment.
“I really am sorry.”
Violetta’s tone was surprisingly soft, and Tristan looked at her, startled. Her eyes began to well up, and Tristan looked away before she started awkwardly crying all over Violetta’s shoulder.
“Thanks.”
“Not that you asked, but I think you guys will get back together.”
“Doubtful.”
“Well, you never know. Anything can happen, right?”
Tristan nodded wryly.
“So they say.”
Chapter 35
It began to rain as Tristan drove home from work. The drab, oyster-colored sky reflected Tristan’s inner turmoil, which was soothing, in a way -- she hated nothing more than a pleasant, sunny day when she was in a state of despair.
In her bedroom, Tristan stared listlessly into her closet. Did it matter what she wore tonight? It seemed like such a waste of time to put any effort at all into her outfit for the gathering -- who was it for? What did it matter? On a sigh, Tristan decided on distressed black jeggings, flat black rain boots that cut off at her ankles, and a sleeveless black shirt. Plain. Boring. Uninspired. She left her hair the way it was, down and wavy from her earlier braid, and skipped her usual light makeup. Turning away from the mirror, she pulled on a thin black raincoat and went downstairs to wait, her phone as silent and heavy as a rock in her back pocket.
Tristan watched mindless TV in the living room until everyone was ready to go, and then got in the car, staring out the window as Umbris began the drive south through the lashing, angry downpour. They passed the entrance of Beckett’s street on the way, and though she told herself not to look, Tristan did anyway, noticing that Beckett’s car was missing from out front of his house. So he’d gone to prom after all. Good for him. Olivia squeezed her hand, looking at her sympathetically, and Tristan gave her a half-hearted squeeze back. She envied how little drama had occurred between Olivia and Tyler around prom, but then, their relationship was much more casual than hers and Beckett’s; Olivia and Tyler clearly cared for each other, but neither of them seemed to give much thought to a future together. Such a nonchalant approach seemed incredibly appealing to Tristan in her current position, though she wouldn’t trade her relationship with Beckett for the world. Wouldn’t have traded, Tristan corrected herself, her heart aching once again. She supposed she had traded it, come to think of it, but she never could have imagined doing so for the community she wasn't even going to join in the end.