Crave (25 page)

I was so lost in thought, I almost didn't notice how my skin broke out in prickly goose bumps. Probably another sign warning me not to slip too deep into Ice Princess mode.

“Girls, should you really be talking about this sort of stuff?” Tristan was definitely growling at them now.

“Oh, you're right,” Hope whispered. “I didn't think…”

“You never do,” he muttered.

Nice comeback. It almost made me feel better. But not quite. The coldness inside me wasn't appeased much. It wanted revenge. The chilling fury grew, spreading like poison, settling in my chest and stomach and making the muscles stiffen then cramp. Oh ow. Okay, that actually
hurt.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tristan glance my direction with a frown.

As soon as I thought about him, a new sensation took over, a pure and seemingly endless need that crowded out all other thoughts from my mind. Need for him. This was worse than simply wanting something, worse even than the usual yearning I felt around him. This was like being trapped in the desert for days and stumbling across a jug of ice-cold water. I craved him. My body screamed at me that I would feel so much better if I just leaned across the aisle toward him and…

Oh, no. Was this the bloodlust my family had warned me about?

I had to get out of here. Now!

I managed to stand up then stagger down the aisle to the teacher's desk. But Mr. Smythe wasn't there yet.

I kept going, changing direction toward the door. I was outside and a few yards from the building when I met the teacher.

I gasped out the first thing that came to mind. “Going to be sick.”

“Do you need to see the nurse or—”

“No. Bathroom. I'll be right back.” I kept going until I reached the nearest girls' restroom at the top of the hill and around the corner to the left.

But I wasn't really nauseous. Just…thirsty, or hungry, or something. It was as if my body had become this foreign thing I was trapped inside, and my mind didn't know how to communicate with it anymore. I didn't know what it needed. But at least I was pretty sure it wasn't blood. Hopefully.

I leaned against the edge of the sink, which felt warmer than me at the moment. I focused on my breathing, willing the pace to slow and deepen. Okay, that was one area I was still in control of, at least.

Then I looked up at my reflection. My eyes…they were nearly white. I'd never seen them that color before. They didn't even look like my own eyes anymore.

Closing them, I made myself calm down. Then I noticed my hands were freezing. I turned the hot water on and stuck my hands under the stream until I could feel my fingers again. The heat felt so nice, I pushed up my sleeves and scooped the water over my forearms, too. Gradually, the coldness inside faded away, leaving me exhausted. But normal again, thankfully.

I really had to get a grip on my temper. This was ridiculous.

When I returned to the classroom, the Brat Twins started giggling again just as the usual ache from being near Tristan spread through my chest and stomach like another muscle cramp.

“Quiet, girls,” Mr. Smythe said.

The twins fell silent.

I ignored them as I returned to my seat and tried to listen to the day's lecture.

But deep inside me, I could feel that alien coldness waiting for the next time I lost control.

Tristan

Maybe Savannah was hiding the fact that she was seriously sick.

She'd shot out of history class today like a rocket and stayed gone for half an hour. When she'd returned, she had been white as a sheet and shaking, and she hadn't taken any notes during Mr. Smythe's lecture like she normally did.

And I never had heard a good explanation for why she had been so sick last spring. Maybe she hadn't made the Charmers team as a dancer because she had a medical condition. Though
that still wouldn't explain why she didn't want me near the dance room this afternoon.

The rest of the day took too long to get through, but finally the last bell rang. I waited a few minutes at my locker to give Savannah time to get to the dance room. Then I headed that way, walking up the sports and art building's second-floor stairs as quietly as I could.

I could hear music, something sad and moody. Easing the door open at the third-floor landing, I entered the hallway and jerked to a stop.

I'd always known that Savannah was beautiful. But this…this was something else. I'd had no idea she could even move like that.

She'd turned off the dance-room lights and shut the room's double doors. But I could still see her through the long, narrow windows at either side of the entrance. In the faint sunlight slanting in through the exterior windows, with her red hair down and flowing around her pale skin…

She didn't look real. She looked like something I'd dreamed up.

Suddenly, she froze, her back to me, her body tense. When she turned toward the doors, she had one hand pressed to the center of her chest, her fingers spread wide just below her collarbone. Her other hand spread over her stomach below her rib cage.

I knew it. She
was
sick. I yanked the doors open. “Sav, what's wrong?”

“What are you doing here? I told you I didn't need your help.”

“Just tell me what's going on. Are you okay?”

“Of course I'm okay. Why?”

“You look like you're in pain.” I nodded at her hands.

She dropped them to her sides, where they clenched into fists. “No, I'm fine. I was just—”

“Then why aren't you a dancer with the Charmers?” The question blurted out before I could reconsider asking it. But if she was sick, I had to know.

She flinched as if I'd hit her and took too long to reply. “I wasn't good enough apparently.”

“That's bull. You just danced better than their current captain does.” Not that I was an expert, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to see how she'd been practically defying gravity in there.

One small shoulder rose and fell as she stomped over to the stereo and snapped it off. “That's how things work sometimes. I'd better get going.”

I knew when someone was lying to my face. But why would she lie about this? I followed her into the uniform closet. “Why aren't you at least filling in as an alternate dancer this year with Keisha and Vicki?”

She stopped before a step stool, keeping her back to me. “That's a long story.”

“I've got all night.”

She hesitated, then sighed and reached for the stool, her movements suddenly jerky. “My father's…family didn't like me dancing last year. So I promised them I wouldn't anymore.”

Must be some religious thing.

She dragged the stool a few feet to the left.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Hats.” She pointed at a long row of square white boxes on the shelf above the uniforms, then stepped onto the stool. She was taking my advice, after all. Good. Except I was tall enough to get the boxes for her without needing a stool.

I stepped up beside her and reached over her head for a box.

She froze and drew in a long breath, then suddenly gasped and wobbled on the stool. Forgetting the hats, I grabbed her waist before she could fall.

Her entire body tensed like a string stretched to the breaking point. Gripping my shoulders with surprising strength, she met my gaze head-on.

Her irises were a gray so light they looked almost silver as she stared at me, the stool making her nearly my height now. The only other time I'd seen her eyes this color was after my fight with Greg. The last time we'd stood this close together.

“Tristan…” she whispered.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, leaning closer to me. Then there was only one thought. Forget the plan. I lowered my head and kissed her.

I'd kissed other girls. Lots of them. Nothing had ever felt like
this,
though.

She kissed me back, her arms wrapped around my neck so our whole bodies lined up. My head swam, and my knees shook.

Too quickly, the burn in my lungs forced me to lift my head and take a long gulp of air. I kept holding her in case she felt as light-headed and weak as I did.

“I… We…” she gasped.

“Yeah,” I agreed, still breathless. “Wow.”

The dazed look left her face, replaced by horror. She pushed away from me and stepped down from the stool as all the color drained from her cheeks. “You
kissed
me!”

“You kissed me back.” How had she recovered so fast? She had to have felt the world slam to a halt during that kiss, too.

“I did not. I got a little…light-headed. And you took advantage of my confusion.”

“I can tell when a girl is kissing me back.”

She pressed a hand to her stomach and another to her chest like before.

“Why do you keep doing that? And why are you feeling light-headed? Are you sick? Tell me the truth.”

“No, I'm not sick. I just…” Frowning, she pressed a hand to her forehead. “I didn't eat much at lunch. And don't change the subject. This is not okay. You and I can't—”

“Have dinner with me.” I cringed at my total, sudden lack of self-control. Good job, Tristan. So much for being her friend first.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” My pulse shot up through my skull. Yes!

“No! Wait. No. I can't.
We
can't.”

“Is that your final answer?” I joked even as my heart dropped down somewhere near my gut. I should have known getting her to date me wouldn't be so easy.

“I—I'm the head manager. You're one of my managers. I can't date you.”

It sounded like she was reaching for excuses on the fly. “Did Mrs. Daniels say that?”

“No. But—”

“Then I'm allowed to date anyone I want to on the team?”

She frowned. “Yes. But it's—”

“Okay, then. I want to date you, Savannah.” I crossed my arms over my chest, bracing myself for the argument I knew she'd need to convince her. “Obviously you feel something between us, too. Why not have dinner together?”

“Because I can't.” She ducked out of the closet faster than I could move to block her.

I followed her to the hallway, hoping the shakiness in my knees didn't show. “Can't? Or don't want to?”

She froze just inside the dance room, her back to me as she gripped the doorjamb hard enough to make her knuckles turn
white. I thought she wouldn't answer, or maybe she'd lie. “I wish I could. But I can't. I'm sorry.”

“Can you at least tell me why?”

“You know why. Clann rules.” Moving to the back of the room, she grabbed a box from inside the cabinet and started filling it up with gifts from the countertop, her movements jerky with not a single hint of that ghostlike grace she'd shown while dancing just a few minutes ago. “Will you grab two hatboxes, please? That is, if you're still insisting on helping.”

Frustrated, I stayed where I was for the moment. “So you won't date me because the Clann forbids it.”

She sighed loudly. “That's right. We're not even supposed to be friends, much less date. You know that.”

“But their rules don't make any sense. They're stupid. Just because you're not in the Clann anymore shouldn't stop us from dating. Descendants can date regular humans. What's the difference?”

Her frown deepened. “They have their reasons. Hats?”

I stood there, rubbing the stubble starting to form on my chin. I'd need to shave again before the game tonight. “What reasons? It doesn't make any sense.”

“It makes sense to them, and that's all that matters. A promise is a promise.”

“You promised not to be friends with me, or not to date me?”

“Uh, both. It was sort of an all-inclusive kind of promise.”

“You actually said the words ‘I promise'?” When we were kids, she used to get so hung up on making me say those words and pinky swearing when I promised her something. Otherwise, she seemed to think I might wriggle out of the deal, whatever it was at the time.

And she remembered that, judging by how she had to duck her head to hide a grin now. “Well, not in so many words.
It was more like an understood thing. They said to stay away from you.”

“Ah, but you never actually promised, did you?” I said, stepping closer to her.

She quickly grabbed the now-full box of gifts. “They made sure I understood the rules, and that's all it should take.” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Look, maybe you don't care about following the rules. But I do. I made a promise to my family, and they trust me to keep it. So that's what I'm going to do. Okay? It doesn't matter what I want, or what you want.” She started out the door.

“Hang on,” I growled, ducking into the uniform closet to grab two hatboxes before joining her in the hallway.

She looked tired as we walked down the stairs and out the building, her shoulders slumping as we made our way down the cement ramp then cut across the grassy hill between the math building and cafeteria.

“Is that too heavy?” I tucked the hatboxes under one arm, reaching out for her box with the other. “I can carry—”

“No, it's fine.” She jerked the box out of my reach and walked faster toward the front parking lot.

It was my turn to sigh in frustration. Man, she was hardheaded.

We filled up the seat of her truck. On the way back, as we passed my grounding tree outside the cafeteria, I said, “Go ahead, I'll catch up.”

I pretended to tie my shoe until she was out of sight inside the sports and art building again. Then I pressed a hand to the dirt and pulled up some energy from the earth. The boost of energy helped clear me of the lingering weakness and light-headed effects from our kiss. Feeling better, I stood and jogged to catch up with her inside the foyer.

We made one more trip, both of us loaded down with the
last of the gifts. The entire time, her cheeks and ears stayed a bright pink. Then she opened her truck's driver-side door and slid in. But I couldn't let her go yet. Not till I knew where we stood now that we'd crossed the line beyond friendship.