His Eyes (13 page)

“You get it, now, don’t you?” She seemed to be enjoying the way my eyes were bugging out of my head. “
I
am the kind of girl that Tristan likes. Not,” she appraised me, “whatever you think you are.”

No.

“
Ahh
!”

I really didn’t have a choice. My hand acted out of its own free will and flew through the air, stopping only a millimeter away from slapping her cheek. I was suddenly laughing,
really
laughing. Manically. I sounded like I’d lost it and maybe I had; the whole situation was too much. I just wanted to slap her. I wouldn’t, of course—I wasn’t quite that violent—but the look on her face was priceless.

I stopped laughing when she said, “You haven’t won anything,
whore
! You work here, right? Do you
want
to be fired? I can make that happen, you know. So, if you’re even
thinking
of saying to something to Trist, I’d recommend that you consider the situation.”

“You know,” I smiled into her sour face, “if Tristan can’t figure out what you’re doing for himself, then he deserves you.”

The Creature paused, looking puzzled. “What?”

“You’re in your ‘own league,’ figure it out,” I snapped and swept past her.

I made it to the base of the winding staircase before her voice caught me. “He’s not up there! He’s in the back, by the pool. We were tanning. I just came in for a drink.”

A drink.
Right
. I nodded and lied, “You’re so helpful.”

I walked through the kitchen and the French doors that led to the backyard. When I stepped onto the cement patio, I gasped. The pool was a large rectangle filled with glistening water that reflected the blue sky. The remainder of backyard was something like a resort, with thick golf course-worthy grass and an edging of perfectly square hedges. But what really made me gasp was Tristan. He was lying, relaxed on a lounge chair with nothing more than shorts and his glasses on. I couldn’t help but wonder he kept his abs so toned.

As I choked out a weak, “Tristan,” he sat up straight and turned in my direction. His black sunglasses shone in the bright sunlight.

“Amy?” He opened his mouth to say something more, but The Creature pushed past me. Pulling on his arm, she begged, “Tristan, I want to go get some ice cream.”

I lost all awe when he gave The Creature his attention. “I can’t drive.”

“Oh.” She sighed dramatically, like she was greatly inconvenienced, and plopped onto his chair, practically onto his lap. I fumed and she fixed her eyes on me. “Amy can drive.” She turned back to Tristan and placed a hand on his bare chest. “Why don’t you ask her?”

He stiffened and, for a moment, I wished with all my might that he would push her off. Instead, he gave her a forced smile and took her hand off of his chest, setting it on her lap. When he spoke to me, his tone was unnaturally low. “Amy...will you drive?”

My heart turned ten degrees colder. What kind of “friendship” was this?! My voice was hardly audible as I replied, “Yeah.”

“Great!” The Creature hopped up and, dragging Tristan to his feet, linked her arm through his. She led him forward while he pulled on his shirt. I winced, realizing that she had instantly reduced my job to that of chauffeur.

I walked quickly through the house and glanced up to see Chris and Marly peering under the banister. Chris was sticking his tongue out at the oblivious model walking behind me. Mrs. Edmund hovered on the second floor landing, watching the kids. She called, “Have fun,” and I gave her smile, before heading through the front door. I stopped next to my Camry and gave it an affectionate pat.

I turned toward The Creature, who stopped so suddenly that Tristan crashed into her. I moved to open the passenger door, while trying not to notice how Tristan, embarrassed, was brushing a hand through his hair. Before I had the door open, The Creature said, “No, we’ll both sit in the back,” and jerked Tristan closer to my car.

I frowned, peering into my backseat. It was mostly clean, except for a few old napkins and straw wrappers. The Creature, letting go of Tristan’s arm, opened the door and climbed inside. For a moment, Tristan stood awkwardly still. I bit my lip and reached for his hand. For some reason, we both jumped when our skin touched. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, wondering if it was my imagination. I grabbed his hand firmly and placed it on the door’s rim.

I whispered in his ear, “You just have to duck down a little more.”

I could have sworn he shivered when I drew close, but he quickly slid into my car. I shook my head and shut the door behind him.

* * *

The drive downtown was a blur. The Creature was cooing to him.
Cooing
. I’d seriously considered bailing out into a ditch. My anger grew with each passing minute while I sped down Main Street, ignoring the “quaint” turn-of-the-century architecture of the small shops. I glanced in the review mirror, confirming the fact that she was again trying to snake her arm around his neck. Tristan leaned away from her, his fingers tapping impatiently on the base of the window. I jerked my car into a parking stall and smirked as she fell into the door.

Without a word, I climbed out of my car, pushed a quarter into the meter, and walked inside Ice Cream World; Tristan and his new helper could find their own way. A tiny bell on the door clattered when it shut behind me. I recognized the face behind the counter: it was Rodge, who hadn’t been working the day when Tristan and I came in. Rodge was a nice guy with spiky black hair and a silver eyebrow ring. We had gone out once, during my sophomore year, but hadn’t clicked as a couple.

“Hey, Rodge.”

“Aim.” He returned my smile. “You still like Moosetracks with rainbow sprinkles?”

I laughed. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

Rodge grabbed a medium sized dish and began to scoop the ice cream. “It’s a unique combination.”

I leaned against the cool outside of the freezer and glanced over at Tristan, who was standing near the door with The Creature. He seemed to be listening attentively to our conversation, while she dully picked at her nails. I smirked and turned back to Rodge. “You remember that movie we saw?”

Tristan stiffened.

“Yeah, that was a good one....” He paused in the midst of his sprinkling. “What was it called? There were all these people locked in an old school—”

I nodded and watched Tristan shift uncomfortably. “And ghosts were chasing them, right?”

Rodge set the cup on the counter. “Yeah, I can’t think of the name.” He punched my order into the cash register. “That’s three dollars.”

I smiled and reached into my purse to grab my money, when I heard Tristan say, “I got it.” He had stepped away from The Creature and was holding out a crisp ten dollar bill. I frowned, unsure if I should take it, and asked, “You sure?”

“Yeah, uh, I think that should cover everyone.” Tristan scratched the back of his neck. He said quietly, “It’s a ten, right?”

“Right.” Sensing his embarrassment, I bit my lip and took the bill, passing it to Rodge. “Thanks.”

He slid the ten into the till and set the change on the counter. “Well, it was good to see you, Amy.”

“Bye, Rodge.” I took my ice cream and moved toward a table next to the front window. The Creature hopped into my place at the register and ordered something with little calories and even less flavor. I collapsed onto one of the padded red seats, set my cup on the checkered tabletop, and looked outside. Twisting my plastic spoon between my fingers, I couldn’t help but wonder why Tristan had chosen to pay for me.

Once he and The Creature had their cups, they walked over to my table. Tristan carried both of their ice creams and his leg collided with one of the chairs. He couldn’t judge the distance with his hands full, so I kicked the chair back from the table to save him from ending up on the floor. The narcissistic Creature didn’t even notice the potential disaster, but picked at her nails while she waited for Tristan to sit, so she could take her Vanilla ice cream.

Tristan landed heavily on the chair, his hand closing into a fist after The Creature snatched her ice cream from him. I smirked when she bit seductively into her maraschino cherry, intending to attract his attention, but received no response. Tristan suddenly asked, “Amy, how’d you know that guy?”

I blinked, having not expected him to say anything. Trying to act casual, I explained, “Oh, yeah, we dated.”

“Dated?” The Creature scoffed. “He has an
eyebrow
ring!”

“He does?” Frustrated, Tristan jerked his head toward the counter, as if he should have been able to see Rodge’s mark of punk.

“Yeah.” I studied Tristan’s face, trying to figure out if he was annoyed that Rodge wasn’t a basic, bland Grayfielder or that I had a gone out with him. “Is that...weird?”

“No, I just didn’t think that you....” Uncomfortable, Tristan ran his fingers though his hair. “I mean, he’s not—”

Like you, I thought. But I could tell that he was second-guessing himself, unsure if he should finish his sentence. Before he had a chance to make up his mind, The Creature narrowed her eyes and interjected, “Tristan, when was the last time you rode Aeris?”

At the sound of her voice, Tristan bent low over the table and dug his spoon into his Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream. He mumbled, “I don’t ride anymore.”

Surprised, I inhaled the spoonful of ice cream I’d just put in my mouth and began to choke. The Creature eyed me suspiciously. She slid her chair closer to his and whispered something into his ear. She leaned back and giggled, flashing her green eyes at me meaningfully. Tristan pretended to smile.

I stabbed my spoon into my ice cream and straightened myself in my seat. “What’s funny?”

Tristan’s head snapped up, as if he was jolted at the harshness of my tone. He explained, “She was just reminding me of this time when my mom threw a party and then ended up falling—”

“It’s really not important,” The Creature cut him off.

“Oh.” I raised my eyebrows innocently and took another bite of my ice cream. “So...who’s Mick?”

The Creature pushed her spoon so deeply into her cup that I heard it crack against the bottom. Her eyes widened and she looked at Tristan, who was frowning in confusion. She sputtered, “Just, uh, my agent/publicist.”

Seeing that she was flustered, I asked, “How old is he?”

“Twenty-five,” she answered too quickly. Realizing her error when Tristan’s frown grew deeper, she gave me a feral look. “So, how do you like your
job
?”

Before I was able to answer, Tristan asked me, “How’d you know about him?”

For a moment, I felt guilty for not telling him what I’d overheard. Then I remembered how Tristan had let her make me into a chauffer. I shrugged, deflated. “She mentioned him, that’s all.”

He suddenly looked almost—worried. He said gently, “Amy?”

“Tristan,” I shot back.

The Creature quickly placed a hand on his arm. “Remember, Trist, remember when....” She lowered her voice and leaned closer to his ear.

He appeared distracted for a moment, as he slid his arm away from her, and then he was drawn in by her words.

I told myself that I didn’t care, but that was just a lie. Every time she giggled that horribly fake giggle and every time he forced a smile in response, it was like another knife wound to my gut. I’d never expected my job as babysitter to be turned into being a professional third wheel. I kept telling myself that there was only half of the day left and that the money was worth it. Wasn’t it?

* * *

By the time I’d driven back to the Edmunds’ house, I’d grown so tense that I thought I would have permanent fingernail imprints in the palms of my hands. The Creature had continued gushing fits of flirtatious giggles that now corrupted the sanctuary of my car. I wondered what kind of purification ceremony would get rid of the evil spirits she was sure to leave behind. The ice cream I’d eaten settled like a rock at the bottom of my stomach.

As I turned off my car, another eruption of giggles caused me to glower. The Creature climbed out, leaving Tristan alone in the backseat. I sighed and walked around my car, while she strode importantly toward the house. When I opened the door to let Tristan out, he hardly appeared as giggle-filled. I reached for his hand, my voice low while I asked, “Having fun?”

Tristan stood up and was suddenly close to me; I could feel his warm breath on my cheeks. He replied darkly, “What do you think?”

He hadn’t given the cheery answer that I’d feared, but how was I supposed to know what he felt, when he was the one letting her flirt obnoxiously for the last hour? I grumbled, “I don’t know, Tristan. I don’t even understand why she’s here.”

“Look, I had to let her stay.” He sighed heavily. “My mother loves Lexus and I thought I should humor her, for a change; more like how you are with your parents. It won’t be too bad. Lexus just can’t know about us. I don’t want you getting fired, Amy.”

Fired?! What about making me want to quit? I opened my mouth to tell him, when The Creature rushed down the front stairs and slipped into the tiny space between us. Grabbing his arm, she said, “There you are! Come on, Tristan. Let’s go sit by the pool,” and eyed me, before jerking him toward the house.

I chose to follow them at a distance while my mind worked on decoding what Tristan had said: he was doing this as a favor to his mom, but he didn’t want The Creature to get me fired. So...he was being stupid. Couldn’t he tell that she was evil? That should’ve trumped any obligation! What a boy.

When I walked into the kitchen, Mrs. Edmund was hunched over a pile of papers on the counter. I glanced out through the French doors and saw that Tristan and The Creature had already settled onto two lounge chairs. She was holding a bottle of tanning oil and giving him a look that made my skin crawl. Disgusted, I turned away and found Mrs. Edmund looking at me with a tearstained face. I walked toward her, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry.” She dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled Kleenex. “I-I just was trying to balance the checkbook while the kids were playing upstairs. My husband used to take care of the bills on the Internet, but I could never figure that out. I thought by hand wouldn’t be so bad but....” She shrugged and her mouth twisted as she fought against a sob.