The Wanderers Beginning: The Wanderers, Reborn, & Unforgiven

by Jessica Miller

  “She was more of a cops and robbers type girl.”

  “Please, spare me the details,” I begged, not wanting to hear the orientation of his so called intimacies with Skylar.

  He smiled slightly and shifted closer to me. His hand touched mine and I flinched, pulling it away, and sticking it in my pocket. His hand was warm and inviting, but I wasn't going to let him know he was getting to me.

  We didn't speak the rest of the way to the Art studio. When we arrived the professor was still there. “Good evening Ella, Tristan,” she said looking at her watch. “I expected you two an hour ago.”

  “Sorry, I got caught up with something,” Tristan explained. The professor just pushed up her glasses and went back to her paperwork.

  Tristan took my coat and hung it up while I grabbed our supplies. We immediately went to work. Tristan explained to me everything he felt I was doing wrong and showed me how to correct it. I listened carefully to each suggestion. When he thought I got it, he let me try it on my own. “You know Tristan, for someone with your precision, skill, and knowledge, you would make a great teacher,” the professor praised. “It would be a shame to not put those talents to good use.”

  “That's just because I have a good student,” he said, smiling at me. “I find my talents are better used for party planning.”

  The professor just shook her head and walked back to her desk. “I'm heading home for the night. Feel free to stay as late as you need. Just remember to please lock up when you're done.”

  “Thank you professor,” I replied as she left.

  Tristan worked on a new painting while I finished mine. An hour later, it was complete. “Done,” I said proudly.

  Tristan put his paintbrush down so he could inspect it. He stood up and stared at it. He rubbed his chin with his paint stained hand trying to act serious. After a few minutes of him not saying anything, I got impatient with his act. “Tristan!”

  He laughed. “It's good, but it's missing something,” he said, tapping his finger on his chin.

  “What?” I asked, looking at my painting and wondering where he was going with this.

  He picked up my paintbrush. “It needs a little something right, here.” He turned to face me and painted a blue line down my nose. I just looked at him, smiling, thinking he was slick.

  I decided to play along.

  “You know what, I think you're right. It needs a little more red.” I picked up a paintbrush and drew a big squiggly line across Tristan's face. I put my brush down and tried not to laugh.

  “I think you could use some green,” he said, painting both sides of my cheeks.

  I took a breath and picked up the yellow. “I think it needs a touch of yellow yet.” I grabbed a bigger brush and slapped two big lines on his shirt.

  “Okay, now you've done it,” he said, moving away. I couldn't help it anymore. I started to crack up laughing. “Oh you think that's funny do you?” He picked up the yellow paint. “I think you’re in need of some hi-lights.”

  “Don't you dare,” I warned, getting up from my seat and grabbing a bottle of paint.

  He crept closer and with each step he took toward me, I took one back. “Tristan, I'm warning you. You try it and I will dump this whole bottle on you,” I threatened.

  “No you won't. You don't have the guts,” he taunted.

  “Really,” I said with a big smile on my face. He took another step closer and I threw the entire contents of the paint bottle on him.

  He stood back, shocked.

  I covered my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. He was covered from the neck down in blue paint. “That's it,” he said, coming after me.

  “No,” I squealed and tried to run in the opposite direction, but he caught me and dumped yellow paint all over my head. I reached for the next closest color and fired away. It turned into an all-out war.

  We were chasing each other around the room with different colored paints trying to dowse one another. He got a hold of my arm and tried to dump more paint on me, but we both slipped and crashed to the floor laughing hysterically.

  He lay flat on his back. “Okay, I give up,” he said.

  “Truce,” I said, extending my hand and offering to help him up.

  “Truce,” he accepted and sat up.

  I looked around the now paint covered room. “We have a big mess to clean up,” I said, turning back to Tristan. He was resting with his arms on his knees, closer to me than he was before.

  “What?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable under his stare.

  He looked into my eyes and reached up with his hand, gently brushing his thumb across my cheek and inching his way closer. I closed my eyes and held my breath. I could feel the slow exhale of his breath on my lips. It was warm and welcoming. I moved closer allowing his lips to graze mine.

  “Ella!” I heard Jack calling my name. I pulled back and sighed. Tristan dropped his hand and turned away from me. “Ella, hey...um...what happened?” Jack asked, looking at us covered head to toe in paint.

  “We had a disagreement on colors,” I said, giving Tristan a coy smile which he returned while helping me up. “What's up Jack?”

  “I stopped by your room to see if you were okay and Josie said you were here. I thought it was kind of late to be here all by yourself so I came to check on you and make sure you get back safely.”

  “Thanks Jack, I appreciate your concern. As you can see Tristan's here with me and I'm sure he'll make sure I get back safely.”

  “Yeah, I'm here. And I'm perfectly capable of keeping her safe,” Tristan said defensively.

  “Really, where were you earlier today? When she had to defend herself against Skylar,” Jack spat back.

  “Where were you?” Tristan growled, puffing up his chest.

  “Stop,” I yelled, looking between the both of them. The sudden increase of testosterone in the room was making me anxious. I turned to Jack. “Jack, thank you for your concern, but I'll be fine. I'll see you back at the dorms, okay?”

  He paused, unsure if he really wanted to leave me alone with Tristan. I begged him with my eyes to leave. He nodded understanding, but made sure he gave Tristan one more foul look before he left. “What's his problem?” Tristan asked.

  “I don't know,” I admitted honestly. “Let's just clean this up and go.”

  We spent the next hour cleaning up the Art room in silence. Neither of us knew what to say. Tristan had almost kissed me and if Jack hadn't of walked in I would have let him. Now that 'what if' was lingering in the air as if we were on a bad first date. There were so many things I wanted to say, but couldn't figure out how to form the words.

  When we were finished, Tristan handed me my coat and locked up. “I guess I'm going to have to get a new jacket now since this one is covered in paint,” I joked, trying to break some of the tension. Tristan didn't respond. He just walked quietly beside me. I wondered why he suddenly had a sour attitude. Was it because of Jack? Or was it because he felt I was leading him on with no intention of ever being with him?

  I tilted my head slightly to peek at his face. He wouldn't even look at me. He just kept that same stone face as we walked down the hall. When we got outside, the campus was crawling with cop cars and ambulances everywhere. “Oh my God, what happened?” I asked.

  “I don't know. There's Josie, let's go ask her,” he said, pulling me along.

  “Josie!” I called out to her.

  She came running over to us. “Ella, oh God, it's so horrible,” Josie said crying.

  “Josie what happened?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but then took one look at Tristan and I covered in paint. “What the hell happened to you two?”

  “Never mind that, what's going on?”

  “Oh right,” she said, trying to refocus. “It's Skylar, they found her body.”

  “What?” I gasped.

  “Oh Ella, it's so horrible. They found her tied to a tree, stripped down to her underwear with the words slut and bitch carved into her.�
�

  “Is she?” Josie shook her head choking on a sob. I felt Tristan's hand graze mine. This time I didn't pull away. I let him twist his fingers in mine for a silent comfort.

  “They're calling an emergency meeting at the sorority house. We have to be there in an hour.”

  “You should go, get cleaned up. I'm going to see if I can find out more information,” Tristan said. I eyed him warily. “Go, I'll see you at the house later.” Tristan dropped my hand and I felt like a piece of me was ripped away. I watched him walk off and get lost in the swarm of police.

  “Come on, we should hurry,” Josie said, taking my hand.

  When we got back to the dorm I quickly hopped in the shower and scrubbed all the paint off of me. Most of it came off easily, except for the paint in my hair. I had to wash it three times and I still didn't think I got it all. I threw on anything I could find and then remembered the inside of my coat was covered in paint. I grabbed a hooded sweatshirt instead. That was the best I could do for now. I threw my wet hair into a messy bun on top of my head as Josie and I rushed out the door.

  “Ella,” Jack stopped me.

  “Jack, I'm sorry, but I can't talk right now.”

  “I just wanted to apologize for earlier,” Jack said.

  “Ella we have to go,” Josie pushed.

  “Jack it's fine. We'll talk about it later, but I really have to go.”

  “Skylar, I heard. It's so horrible what he did,” he said, bowing his head.

  I stopped. “He? You know who it was?”

  “No. I just assumed it was a guy. Someone who really hated her, maybe an ex-boyfriend?” he suggested.

  “What are you implying Jack?”

  “I just think whoever this was had to be a heartless monster. The way they mutilated her body with those words slut and bitch. Sounds personal to me. I heard the cops say they wanted to question Tristan.”

  “What for?” I asked angrily.

  “They say the last time she was seen was when she was arguing with him.”

  I stood silent, unable to speak.

  “Ella, we have to go now!” Josie yelled, pulling me away.

  I was so appalled by Jack's accusations that I just let Josie pull me to the car. I couldn't believe what Jack was implying, that he would believe Tristan was even capable of such a horrific thing. I wiped the thought from my mind. Jack was probably just acting out of jealousy. Of course the cops would want to talk to Tristan, they were...I don't know what you would call them but they were close and...

  “Shit!”

  “What is it?” Josie asked.

  “Me.”

  “Huh?” she said confused.

  “The cops are going to want to talk to me,” I said, anxiously gripping the door handle.

  “Of course they are Ella. They're going to want to talk to all of us.”

  “No Josie, the fight,” I bit my nails nervously. “What if I'm a suspect?”

  “Oh don't be silly Ella, there's no...” she turned to look at me. “Your dad used to be a lawyer right?”

  “Thanks, that's not helping.”

  “You have nothing to worry about. Really Ella, it's fine,” she said, smiling at me reassuringly.

  Walking into the sorority house felt like entering a funeral home. Girls were consoling each other and handing out boxes of tissues. The fraternity brothers were spread out amongst the house. Their expressions ranging from sadness to pity and anger.

  Josie and I were some of the last to arrive, so we stood in the back. Cadence took her position up front with the president of the fraternity. “This is a very sad and tragic event. One of our fellow sisters has been brutally murdered, mutilated, and hung on display for all to see...”

  I felt a familiar hand slip into mine. I turned to see Tristan was now standing next to me; stripped clean of all evidence from earlier. He gave me a small smile and I squeezed his hand back gently for comfort.

  “Rest assured, we will find the person who did this,” Cadence bellowed, rousing the brothers.

  Bailey turned around and got in my face. “You did this!” she screamed, pointing at me. I instantly dropped Tristan's hand. “You did this. This is all your fault!”

  I stepped back, stunned at her accusation.

  “Please, she did us all a favor,” Cassidy said, causing a sudden outburst amongst the crowd. Chaos started and Cadence tried to calm everyone down but had no such luck. To make matters worse, the cops had now arrived. They walked right through the door and straight to me.

  I froze, panicked. Josie grabbed my hand and pulled me back slightly. “Ella don't worry. I'll call your dad and this will all be over before you know it,” she whispered.

  “Tristan McKinnon?” An officer addressed. His eyes darted around the room looking for the person in question.

  Tristan stepped forward turning himself over. “That's me,” he said.

  The officer gripped his arm and turned it behind his back. “You're under arrest for the murder of Skylar Hawkyns,” he started to put the hand cuffs on Tristan. “You have the right to remain silent...”

  “Wait! He didn't do this!” I yelled, jumping in front of them. “You can't take him. You have the wrong person.”

  The cop ignored me and continued to read him his rights. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law...”

  “Wait!” I pleaded.

  “If you can't afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”

  “Don't worry Ella. Deputy douche bag over here can't hold me long,” he smirked.

  “Watch it smart ass,” the officer warned, pulling tighter on the cuffs.

  “I'll be there five minutes tops. They know I didn't do it. They just need somebody to blame and I am the easiest target. Trust me Ella, they have nothing to hold me on,” he said, trying to reassure me.

  “We’ll see about that,” the cop said, indicating he had something up his sleeve.

  Tristan laughed at him and threw me his cocky smile. I watched as the police escorted Tristan out of the house. Cadence approached me from behind. “Don't worry Ella. No one blames you.”

  Not able to see Tristan anymore I turned around to address her. “I wouldn't be so sure of that,” I nodded in the direction of Bailey.

  “She's just upset. She blamed Cassidy earlier too. Why don't you and Josie head back to the dorms. It's been a rough night for everyone and we all need a good night's rest.” I nodded in agreement and went to find Josie.

  The whole house was in disarray. The brothers were flipping out on the cops for arresting Tristan while others were busy mourning the loss of a sister. A few of the girls agreed with what Cassidy said. I heard the whispers as I worked my way through the masses. “She got what she deserved,” “She was a bitch and a slut.”

  So much for sisterhood.

  I found Josie talking to Bailey, trying to calm her down. I was afraid to approach, thinking Bailey might have another outburst. But to my surprise she apologized to me. “Ella I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted that way, I'm just devastated.”

  “I understand,” I said, giving her a hug. Then Josie and I headed back to our dorm.

  Jack came running out of his room. “Ella did they find anything else out?” Are you okay?”

  “No, there are no leads and I'm fine, just tired.” I didn’t want to tell him they arrested Tristan. I felt that would only feed his suspicion and I believed Tristan was innocent. “I'm going to go to bed. You should too, it's late,” I told him and continued on my way to my room.

  Jack stood outside his door until I was inside. “He's really clingy,” Josie complained.

  “He just worries.”

  “Yeah, well, he's starting to creep me out.”

  I sat on my bed and took off my shoes. “Ella, are you scared?” Josie asked nervously.

  “Of what?”

  “That maybe there's some crazy killer on campus?”

  “I don't even want to think about that, but I doubt it. We all know ho
w Skylar was. Maybe she finally pissed off the wrong person.”

  “She didn't deserve to die though...and not that way,” she said, pulling the covers up to her chin.

  I let out a breath. “No she didn't. No one does.” I went over to my dresser and pulled out my pajamas. I changed my clothes and climbed into bed.

  I couldn't sleep. I was too worried about Tristan. Every time I would close my eyes I would begin to have the dream. I haven't had the dreams since I left home and was confused as to why they would start up again. Maybe it was the recent trauma that brought it on or maybe because it's my punishment to relive this nightmare over and over at any given time.

  Not being able to keep my eyes open anymore, I gave in to exhaustion. The dream started as it always had, but something was different this time. I could feel it. I wasn't smiling, happy, like normal. Instead I had a bad feeling, a gut instinct that something was wrong. I looked over at Kyle and he smiled back at me like he always did.

  Except this time when we crashed, I saw him, the man with the glowing yellow eyes.

  It was Tristan.

  This time I didn't scream. I just closed my eyes. When I opened them I couldn't see his face anymore. This time I also saw my rescuer, and he too, was Tristan. When I looked into his eyes, I saw they were different. They weren't the deep, dark blue I knew. They were something else, something evil.

  “Tristan?” I managed to get out.

  His eyes glowed bright gold and within seconds his hands were around my throat.

  I sat up in bed gasping. I put my hand on my neck and tried to slow my breathing. Out of the corner of my eye I caught movement. Too afraid to look, I closed my eyes and told myself my mind was playing tricks on me. I forced myself to face my fear by opening my eyes and look over in the corner to see...

  Nothing.

  I ran a shaky hand through my hair and chastised myself for being a big scaredy cat. Just then the door to our room blew open about an inch. “Josie,” I said out loud to myself. I got up to close it properly when I heard someone down the hall. I peeked out to see Tristan unlocking his door.

  As if he knew I was there, he turned his head up to look at me. “Ella?” he said softly. “What are you still doing up?”