Melissa Darnell

Consume


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again, he caught and held my gaze. “Anywhere you are is my home, Savannah.” He dropped his hand to the mattress beside him palm-up in invitation.

      I slowly crossed the room to him and sat on the edge of the bed at his hip. His arm rose to make room for me then rested across my thighs, his hand curving around my hip.

      Because my nerve endings screamed for me to get closer to him, I forced my mind to focus on other things. “Maybe you should call your mom tonight. You know, to let her know how your first day back at school went?”

      I’d already texted my mother on the way home from school while Tristan had fun driving us in my car.

      His mouth tightened. His eyelids dropped halfway, concealing his eyes from me. The memory of his mother casting him out of the Clann and her life right after I turned him flashed through his mind before he pushed it away. “Not a good idea.”

      “I know she screwed up that night. But she’s still your mom, Tristan. And I know she’s worried about you. Any mother would be.”

      “She’s not worried about me. I’m dead to her now.” His voice hitched on the word dead. He swallowed hard, the sound loud in the silence of the room.

      “She can’t really feel that way. She was just freaked out. She’d just lost her husband—”

      “What about me? I lost my dad. Now it’s like I’ve lost my mom, too. I feel like an orphan here, Savannah!”

      I stared at him, shocked by the pain he was finally allowing himself to feel. I listened to his racing heart, waiting until it calmed down again. “Talk to her. Give her another chance. She just needed time to get used to all the changes.”

      “Whatever.”

      I blew out a long, slow breath through my lips. “Maybe the problem is you two are both being hardheaded. She made a mistake and said some things she shouldn’t have. But she’s your mother. You have to forgive her.”

      “Her first.”

      “What?

      “Tell her to forgive me for becoming her worst nightmare. Then we can try to talk it out.”

      I sighed. There was no point in pushing Tristan about this any further tonight. It had been a tough day for both of us. We had plenty of time to talk about this later. “I should go, let you get to your homework or whatever. I don’t really need help with mine.”

      “No, don’t go yet. I already did my homework while you were at Charmers practice. Which I notice you were awfully careful not to tell me about. Was Mrs. Daniels and everybody else happy to have you back?”

      His anger and hurt and resentment, directed solely at his mother, was immediately packed away somewhere deep inside him. Now all I saw and sensed from him was love and loneliness.

      It couldn’t hurt to stay a little longer. “Yeah. Well, mostly.” I let him see my memory of overhearing their thoughts and the rumors currently swirling around us.

      He cringed. “We should come up with a story. One that doesn’t involve eloping to Las Vegas or you getting knocked up.”

      “Why bother telling them a lie? They won’t believe it anyway. You know how they are. They’ll believe whatever story they choose.”

      I glanced at him, noticing the thick textbook at his other hip, still open and lying facedown. It must have been some pretty interesting reading. Even with his new speed-reading ability, he still wasn’t much of a reader by choice.

      I reached for the book. He shocked me by quickly laying his free hand over the cover.

      “Oh, now I really need to know what you’re reading.” I tried reaching over him for the book again, losing my balance and falling across him. He just as quickly grabbed the book and used the advantage of his long arm to hold it beyond my reach.

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