TRISTAN

"Quit faking, I know you're awake," Emily grumbled from somewhere at my right side.

I cracked one eyelid open. The coast was clear, no parents or other descendants in sight. "Hey. How'd you know?"

She shrugged and crossed her arms.

"Where's Dad and Mom?"

"I told them to take a break and go get something to eat. You know, I've gotta say, I always knew you were a brat, but this totally takes your selfishness to a whole new level. I ought to hit you, but I'm pretty sure the nurses would throw me out."

"What? What the heck did I do? Shouldn't you be giving me some sympathy here instead of grief? I'm wounded."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please. Like I'm really buying that whole line from last night about your brakes not working. Everyone knows you weren't supposed to be out there. They think you tried to kill yourself in your truck."

"Give me a break. I needed some fresh air, that's all. Mom and Dad have been treating me like an inmate lately. Can't a guy get two minutes to himself without everyone assuming I'm suicidal?"

Emily stared at the floor. She looked like she was ready to swing a bat at my head.

Then I noticed the tears gathering at the edges of her eyes. "Aw, sis, don't cry. I'm all right now."

"No, you're not, you moron. You crushed practically the whole left side of your body! It's going to take months to heal you."

I glanced down at myself. Was she serious?

"And you nearly died. Did you know your heart actually almost stopped beating? If not for Savannah-"

"Wait, what? What does Sav have to do with this?" I didn't believe her about my heart nearly stopping. She was being a drama queen. But her mentioning Savannah was pretty random for her and a huge coincidence for me.

Had my truck wrecked because I'd unleashed that spell for Savannah while driving? Maybe the energy blasted out my brake system or something.

"She was the first one who knew you were hurt. She came tearing across the cafeteria at the dance to tell me she could literally feel your pain. She didn't know where you were, but we were able to use that pain connection to tell if we were getting closer or farther away from you. Then we found you, and she helped me pull open the door and get you out. And then..." She took a shuddering breath. "Then I had to do a healing spell on you to keep your heart going."

"Huh." So the connection spell had worked. Though not exactly in the way I'd meant it to. Sav was supposed to have felt my emotions, not my physical pain.

Her eyes squinted in sudden suspicion. "What did you do? You were out there using power, weren't you?"

Time to switch gears. "Is she okay?"

"Is she- You nearly died, you idiot! Are you not hearing me? Your heart almost stopped! You even managed to make Dad cry."

I cringed. Maybe she wasn't kidding about the near miss after all. "Okay, okay, I hear you, stop shouting. But I don't know what to say about it. Thanks for bringing me back?"

She scowled at me. "You're welcome. And yes, she's fine. When your heart started to fail, so did whatever spell you'd put on her." She leaned in closer and hissed, "You do know our parents would go mental if they knew about that, by the way."

I tried a smile. "So don't tell them."

Emily sighed loudly. "What spell did you use, anyways?"

I tried to shrug, forgetting about my hurt arm and wrist, and had to freeze and hiss through the resulting pain. When I could think straight again, I answered, "I just wanted her to feel how I felt."

"A love spell?" She made a face as if I were too pathetic for words. Maybe I was.

"No, not exactly. She already loves me. I just wanted her to feel confident about us again."

She stared at me then slowly shook her head. "Oh wow. You are really and truly a lost cause, aren't you? How many times, in how many ways, by how many different people, do you need to hear that you two are over, and furthermore, were totally and impossibly doomed from the start? She's the enemy, Tristan, plain and simple. Let her go already."

Okay, now Emily was starting to tick me off. "I thought you were supposed to be the smarter one here. I mean, okay, maybe I shouldn't have tried to do a connection spell on her. I can see now that it wasn't such a smart move." At least not without better planning first. "But why is it so hard for you to see how we've been brainwashed? All of us have, on both sides! We shouldn't even be enemies in the first place. We should all be working together-"

The door to my room opened, and Dad and Mom came in. I had to endure several long, excruciating minutes of Mom's teary hugs before she finally gave me air to breathe again and backed off. In the meantime, Emily got up out of their way. I thought she was leaving, but she stopped and leaned against the doorjamb.

Dad stood at the foot of the bed watching me, his face scrunched up in an expression I'd never seen him make before. He patted my right foot under the sheets. "Glad to have you back with us, son. You sure worried us for a while there."

Emily threw me an I-told-you-so look.

"Um, sorry about that. I swear it was an accident." How many times would I have to repeat that before everyone got the message? "I tried slowing down in time for the curve, but the brakes never responded. By the time I tried to downshift it was too late and I was going too fast to be able to take the curve."

Mom grabbed a tissue from a box on the bedside table and dabbed at her eyes.

"I don't suppose my truck..." I began.

"Totaled," Emily answered without even a hint of sympathy. "It's scrap metal now."

Aw man! I'd loved that truck. It was the one space I had that was truly mine.

Not to mention, Sav had once ridden in it beside me on a date.

"Tell you what," Dad said. "Why don't you worry about recovering over the next few months, and let your mom and I worry about getting you some new wheels."

"Thanks, Dad," I said.

Spoiled brat! Emily slowly mouthed.

Mom glanced at her, and Emily put on a sweet smile.

"I'm going to go call everyone with an update," Mom murmured and headed out the door. Shaking her head, Emily followed her out, leaving me alone with our father.

He dropped heavily into the room's only chair.

"You look tired," I said, studying the lines radiating from the corners of Dad's eyes and the heavy bags beneath.

"You sure gave me a few extra gray hairs."

I grinned. "Impossible. It was all gray already."

Dad snorted, but at least he was smiling. After a few seconds, though, that smile faded again. He sat forward, his elbows braced on his knees.

"Look, son, you can tell me the truth, and I swear it'll stay just between us. Was it really-"

"Dad, I'm not lying. The brakes weren't working. Can't you get a cop or a mechanic or somebody to take a look at it?"

He stared at me. "You're that certain about it?"

"Yeah, I am."

"All right, I'll get somebody to look it over." His thick eyebrows drew together. "Is anything going on at school that I should know about? Anybody who might want to mess with your truck?"

"You mean other than the Williams family?"

We shared a look.

"Other than them, no," I said.

He searched my face as if he thought he'd find a different answer hidden there. Finally he sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Well, at least one good thing came out of it all. Your mother agreed to let you play football again next year. If you're physically recovered enough to."

My pulse sped up at that. "She did?"

He nodded. "We thought... Well, maybe we've been pretty tough on you this year. Football used to keep you mostly out of trouble. And your punishment for using magic on Dylan in public has lasted plenty long enough to satisfy any descendants who matter."

"Think Coach Parker will let me back on the team after all this time?"

Dad grinned. "You let me work on that. Just focus on healing up as fast as you can, and we'll get you all the field time you can handle next fall."

"Thanks, Dad."

* * *

My family went home to get some rest and returned later to bring me a few things to clean up with as best I could in bed. When Mom answered a call on her phone, Dad quietly leaned in to mutter that he'd had a mechanic look at my truck and the brake lines had been ripped loose, but they couldn't tell if it happened before or as a result of the wreck.

Dr. Faulkner also stopped by later that afternoon to show me my X-rays and talk about the recovery plan. When I saw the X-rays, I realized why everyone had been so freaked out. I hadn't just broken a bone or two. When my truck's driver's side door had crunched in on me, it had practically shattered my left wrist and my left leg below the knee. I'd also gotten several deep cuts from broken glass, one gash across my forehead, and two or three more on my left shoulder and forearm where apparently I'd tried to hold on to the steering wheel while being tossed around like a sock inside a dryer.

Even with my family and the local descendants helping with long-distance spell work, it was going to be at least a week before they could reknit my bones enough to allow me to leave the hospital, and a month in casts and on crutches. That was the last time I ever used magic while driving. Just in case it was the reason my brake lines blew out.

By Monday afternoon, I was sure it was going to be the longest week of my life. I'd never realized how much I needed two hands until I temporarily lost the use of one of them. I couldn't play video games. Shaving, even with the help of a nurse to hold a mirror for me, was a joke and left me with nicks all over the left side of my face where I couldn't seem to angle the razor correctly. There was nothing worth watching on TV. And I'd already seen all the movies they had in the nurse station's library.

And my last plan to find a solution for Savannah and me had failed. Big-time.

So when a familiar girl poked her head in the doorway, I was pretty happy about it. Even if the girl was a blonde instead of a certain redhead, at least Bethany was someone to talk to who could distract me from the frustration brewing inside my skull like a spring twister.

She returned my smile as she came into the room. "Hey, champ. How are you feeling?"

"Better now that you're here. You wouldn't believe how boring this place is."

Sinking down into the chair, she opened her Charmers bag. "I brought you your homework for the week. I hope you don't mind? Your mom asked me if I could pick it up for her from the front office."

"She called you?" Mom sure was turning on the matchmaker skills lately. Either she really liked Bethany, or she was pretty worried about me.

"Um, no. I called her to see how you were doing and asked if it would be okay to stop by." She took out a stack of books, each one with several loose pages stuck inside. I tugged one paper free, glanced at the notes, and groaned.

"Oh man, this is going to suck."

"Having trouble in history class?" she teased after glancing at Mr. Smythe's notes.

I thought of Savannah, how her long legs looked tucked up under the desk beside mine in that class. "Always."

"If you need a little help this week, I could work with you on it."

I debated for about two seconds, just long enough to remember how ticked off Emily was at me right now. No doubt she was going to be too ticked off to offer much help with homework this week.

"Sure, that'd be great. Thanks."

She grinned, her cheeks turning pink. "It's no problem. The Charmers don't have practice this week or the next so we'll have more time to study for finals. So I can come right after school. And in the meantime...want to start with today's lineup?"

I sighed. "Yeah, why not? It's not like I've got anything else planned."

Laughing, she pulled a textbook from the stack and we got to work.

* * *

Bethany turned out to be a much better tutor than my sister. For one thing, she had way more patience when the deeper context of the English lit reading assignment was lost on me. She also didn't whack the back of my head if a certain redhead came to mind and I spaced out every so often.

When somebody came in with a tray of food at six o'clock, followed by my mother, I think we were all surprised, me most of all. Where had the time gone?

I pretended to eat the craptastic food until Mom left to find a spoon to eat her own takeout with.

As soon as she was gone, I hissed, "Quick, save me! Eat this before she gets back."

Bethany frowned at my tray of food. "Um, why?"

"Because it tastes like dog sh-er, crap-and I don't want to have to listen to everyone's nagging if I don't eat it."

She burst out laughing. "Oh, but it's okay to torture me with the bad food? I don't think so."

"Aw, come on, Bethany! Don't you have any sympathy?" Putting on my best puppy-dog face, I pointedly draped my free hand on my arm cast.

She ignored my plea while gathering up her things. "Sorry, champ, but I'd better head home before my mom gets worried. She knew I was stopping by here, but it's later than she probably expected."

Mom had left the door propped open. I could hear the determined, steady clacking of her heels returning down the hall.

"Bethany, please!" I held out the bowl of creamed corn. "At least toss it in the trash for me or something."

Biting the corner of her lip for a few seconds, she finally grabbed the bowl and dumped it in the trash under the sink. She was just putting the bowl back on the tray for me when Mom reentered the room.

"There you go, all salted and peppered as requested," she said with a bright smile.

"Oh, men can be such babies when they're sick or injured, can't they?" Mom agreed with a smile.

"Well, I'd better go now. See you tomorrow?" Bethany said to me.

I nodded, shoving the gelatinous gravy around on top of my turkey while Mom moved to prop up the pillows behind my back.

"Thank you for coming, dear," Mom murmured to Bethany before returning to her pointless attempts to make me more comfortable.

At the door, behind Mom's back Bethany mouthed, "McDonald's?" while using a pointer finger to draw imaginary golden arches in the air. I nodded frantically.

Mom made me lean forward so she could stuff an extra pillow behind me. I craned my head around her and mouthed, "Big Mac!"

Bethany shot two thumbs up then ducked out.

* * *

By the time Bethany returned the next day, I couldn't tell if I was happier to see her or the McD's bag she pulled out of her duffel.

"Oh man, you're an angel," I mumbled around the biggest mouthful of Big Mac I could manage.

She laughed as lettuce dripped onto my hospital gown.

I scarfed down the food and promised to pay her back as soon as my jailors returned my wallet. She hid the empty trash inside her duffel bag, and then we tackled the day's homework.

When Mom showed up later for a visit, she frowned and sniffed the air. "Is that...takeout I smell?"

Smiling, Bethany put a demure hand up in front of her mouth. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Mrs. Coleman. That was me. I just burped."

I covered up a snort of laughter by pretending to sneeze.

"Oh here, dear." Mom reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table. "Don't hold in your sneezes like that. It'll inflame your sinuses."

Mom held a tissue in front of my face. When I stared at it, she gave the tissue a shake. "Blow."

"Mother," I muttered through clenched teeth, feeling my face heat up.

"I should go." Bethany gasped, her face turning red as she no doubt choked on the urge to laugh. "See you tomorrow, Tristan."

I was still blowing my nose for my mommy as Bethany ducked out the room, leaving a trail of giggles echoing down the hall.

* * *

Over the next few days, the routine repeated, thankfully without any repeated nightmarish demonstrations of my mother's overprotective style of parenting. Bethany's visits quickly became the highlight of the day, mostly because of the food she smuggled in, but also because she was nice. I'd never really had a chance to talk with her before; at Charmers practice when she would come over, I had always kept the chats short so we wouldn't make Savannah jealous. And in school we were always in a hurry to get to our next class.

Other than the occasional teasing about my being a momma's boy, Bethany actually had a great sense of humor. She also wasn't afraid to boss me around when I tried to slack off during the tutoring sessions and watch TV instead.

On Friday Emily finally got over being ticked off and stopped by to bug me. Bethany was still there when my sister arrived. Other than a quick flash of raised eyebrows, Emily was nice enough not to make a big deal about Bethany's visit. At least at first.

"So, sis, you going to bring me here next week for my physical therapy sessions? The doctors said I'll have two or three a week, maybe an hour or so each. We could probably schedule them in the afternoons if you want." School would have half days all next week, with two final exams each day. I would be released from the hospital on Saturday so I could get rested up in time to attend them.

"No can do," Emily said while making a point to bite into a quarter-pounder with extra cheese. Her obvious attempt to torture me wasn't working, though; I'd already inhaled a custom triple-decker from Dairy Queen an hour earlier courtesy of Bethany.

"Why can't you give me a ride?" It wasn't like she would be sleeping in all week. She had to take final exams, too, and pass them, in order to graduate. And since it would be weeks before I could drive myself again, I would already be hitching a ride with Emily to school every morning.

"Because after the exams, I have to stay for cheerleading practice with the varsity Maidens. And then after that, I'll have to drive to Tyler to the University of Texas campus to practice with the college squad."

"Now I know you're lying," I grumbled. "It's the end of the school year. What can you possibly need to practice for now?"

"Lots of stuff," she snapped back. "The UT cheer squad competes at cheer camp every summer, so we have to start getting ready for it as soon as possible. And since it's a coed team and I have zero experience doing coed stunting, trust me when I say I need all the practice I can get with them. And I'm still working with the Maidens squad this month because I have to train my replacement for next year's team captain. The Maidens voted in Sally Parker."

I snorted. "Well, there goes our varsity cheer squad for next year."

Even Bethany giggled at that, though she tried to cover it with her hand.

Emily sighed. "Yeah, I know what you mean. The Maidens went for sweet and stupid instead of diabolical genius. I can't really blame them, though. It was either her or Vanessa Faulkner. Nobody else wanted it."

I shuddered. "Good choice." Vanessa was so mean she would run everyone off the team in no time if they'd chosen her for captain.

Clearing her throat to hide another giggle, Bethany rose and picked up her things. "I'd better be going. Good luck next week."

"Thanks," Emily and I both replied.

"Hey, thanks for all the tutoring and the...well, you know," I finished lamely, not wanting to mention the takeout and give Emily any more additional blackmail to use against me with our parents.

Emily's eyebrows rose again at that.

"Sure!" Bethany said. She started out the door then stopped and turned back. "Hey, I could give you a ride to your physical therapy sessions next week. If you can get them set up after lunch, we could grab a bite to eat then head straight from school to here."

"Okay, but this time the grub's on me," I said. "Otherwise the deal's off."

"You drive a hard bargain. See you Monday after school." With a wave, Bethany turned and headed down the hall toward the elevators.

Emily cleared her throat loudly.

"What?"

"She seems really nice."

"Yeah, she's not too bad."

Emily threw a balled-up napkin at me. Bored, I used a little power to make it stop midair then reverse direction and zoom back at her. Laughing, she mimicked me, holding up a hand to halt the napkin.

"I think she likes you." She flicked her wrist and the napkin headed my way again.

I caught it without touching it, bouncing it in the air a few times with my energy. Shrugging in response to her comment, I made a thumping motion at the napkin and it flew through the air to circle around Emily's head.

Ducking, she froze the napkin ball between her hands. "So unless you actually like her back, you might want to be careful."

We pretended the napkin was a basketball for a while, dribbling it off the ceiling, the walls, the TV screen, trying to outdo each other's crazy bank shots.

"Why can't she just be a friend?" I suggested.

"A girl who's just your friend? I didn't think you knew how to do that."

"Maybe I should learn. Lots of guys have female buddies, right?"

"Mmm." She caught the napkin as it veered off the bathroom door, deftly sending it sliding across the top of the window blinds. "Well, I guess you could always try it and see how it turns out."

"Wow, knock me over with your faith there, sis." I frowned and grabbed the napkin. Pretending it was the tip of an invisible sparkler now, I tried drawing shapes in the air with it.

Emily stole it back. "I just think you're going to have a tough time keeping it at just a friend thing with her." She made the napkin draw the shape of a giant heart.

"What if I'm upfront with her? Tell her right from the start that I'm not looking for a girlfriend." Not unless it was Savannah. "Then she won't expect anything beyond friendship."

She sighed. "Good luck with that."

The door opened and Mom came barging in like the head of a small SWAT team on the offense. "What are you two doing? I could feel the power use from the parking lot!"

Emily dropped her hand and the napkin hit the floor and rolled out of sight under the rocking chair. "Nothing. Just talking."

"Yep. Just talking." I put on a big smile.

Mom glared at both of us then sighed. "I'm going to see about some DVDs or something to keep you two out of trouble. While I'm gone, be good!" Muttering about packing her wild heathen children off to stay with their cousins in Ireland for the summer, she swept out again.

"She doesn't really mean that, does she?" I asked with a frown. "She remembers she agreed to let me play football again, and that I've got physical therapy and then football training starts up right after that, right?"

Emily snickered. "You better hope she does."

The napkin hit my temple out of nowhere, and the game was back on.

* * *

I meant to have the "only friends" talk with Bethany the following week. I even opened my mouth, the words right there ready to be said, when we stopped by Taco Bell for lunch Monday after the day's final exams.

But then she hopped up to get us sauce, mild for her, medium for me, and when she returned she brought a stack of napkins.

"In case you decide to drool again," she joked, plopping the napkins on the table between us.

And in the middle of teasing her back, I forgot about having the talk with her.

Savannah looked ready to cry on Friday when I awkwardly hopped and lurched up the steps into Mr. Smythe's portable building for the history exam. I'd finally started to get the hang of this whole crutch walking business, though my good arm's armpit was killing me. The leg cast was heavy, so it took some effort to get it positioned under my desk after I sat down beside her. By the time I was all tucked in and ready to talk, Mr. Smythe was passing out the exams and telling everyone not to say a word or we would get automatic Fs for cheating.

Afterward, Savannah took advantage of how slow my injuries made me and shot out of class like a bolt.

So much for one last talk before the summer break.