The Reckoning Page 10

  “See you tomorrow,” Tristan said, nodding.

  “See you tomorrow, Tristan. Olivia.”

  Beckett jogged off the way he came, and Tristan watched him go for a moment before resuming walking with Olivia, who was looking at her sideways.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Something.”

  “Nothing!”

  Tristan shrugged, and they got into her car. Olivia had driven with her this morning, which Tristan suspected was due to her still being rattled by the weekend’s events. She and Olivia and Evander had sat in the backyard for a while on Sunday, comparing what little knowledge they had of the Elder Orion. The consensus had been that he was as ruthless as Tristan had thought she recalled, and in particular had taken no mercy on deflectors from the community in his heyday. Though Tristan had not yet admitted aloud that she was planning to go her own way after graduation, Olivia and Evander had made especially worried faces at her when they’d had that discussion. She wasn’t trying to hide from her siblings, knew it would be of no use to even try, but she wasn’t ready to talk about it, and she appreciated that they did not press her for information.

  “Oceana,” Tristan said on the drive home, her voice measured. “Either stop staring at me, or tell me why you’re staring at me before I strangle you.”

  “Well, to my surprise Beckett came through loud and clear to me back there, and just so you know he's starting to wonder if he should back off because he thinks you don't like him at all. But you actually do have the hots for Beckett Benson, don't you? I can see it on your face.”

  Tristan jerked the wheel, and Olivia clutched the car’s grab handle, her eyes going wide as they narrowly missed an oncoming car.

  “Trinity, Gods!”

  “What kind of question is that?” Tristan demanded, her face flushing as she course corrected the car.

  “A valid one, but not one worth killing us over!” Olivia yelled, and Tristan shot her a dirty look.

  Tristan took the turn into their driveway a little hard, and Olivia let out a growl of frustration as she gripped the car’s inside door handle. Both girls slammed their doors as they got out, glaring at each other as they stormed into the house.

  “What's all the noise about?” Sol asked, appearing from the kitchen.

  “Oceana is being a brat, as usual,” Tristan said, and Olivia protested loudly.

  “Asking you if you have a crush is not being a brat!” Olivia looked at Sol. “She's just bajiggity because I think she's into Beckett Benson the way he's into her.”

  “Ba-what?” Sol asked, but Tristan cut her off.

  “Oh please, you don't know what you're talking about!”

  “Which part?” Olivia challenged, crossing her arms. “Because I'm definitely right about Beckett, and if you'd ever unseal I bet I'd be right about you, too!”

  “Beckett does not have a crush on me, and I do not have one on him. We barely talk outside of our project. End of story!” Tristan's face was red; she knew Olivia wasn't lying, had no reason to lie, and it was a little too much to process right then.

  “Yes he does,” Olivia said smugly. “And his intentions are good, surprisingly, but like I told you, he's starting to pick up on the chilly vibe you're working so hard to give off, and he's having doubts. Not that I blame him!”

  “Enough, Oceana,” said Sol, looking carefully at Tristan, who was clearly in some kind of distress.

  “Thank you,” Tristan said fiercely. “I have to go get ready for my interview, I don't have time for this.”

  She stomped up the stairs to her bedroom, and Sol looked at Olivia.

  “I wish you hadn't done that.”

  “What?”

  “She's unsettled enough as it is; I'm afraid she's getting close to her breaking point, mentally. You don't need to antagonize her.”

  “I wasn't--” Olivia started, but she was interrupted by the ringing of the house phone.

  Tristan reappeared a few minutes later, dressed in her skinny black pants and a black v-neck t-shirt. She sailed past Olivia and out the door, not sparing her a glance.

  “I have to go up to the school,” Sol said, looking harried as she came back into the room. “Your brother got into a fight at football practice.”

  “Is he OK?” Olivia asked immediately, and Sol nodded.

  “I shouldn't say he got into a fight. Apparently he elbowed Theo Fitelson in the nose, twice, and they think it's broken. Ember is fine.” Sol sighed. “Will you be OK until I get back?”

  “Mom, really? I'm sixteen. Yes.”

  Sol kissed her head and left, and Olivia closed her eyes, connecting with Evander to see if he'd let her see what had happened. Evander allowed it, and, as Olivia watched, Theo strolled up behind Evander at football practice while Evander waited to toss the ball to one of his teammates.

  “Halloween was fun, huh man?”

  Evander ignored him.

  “Your family always goes all out, and your sisters never disappoint. Even Tristan was kind of hot in a scary way again this year. I feel like she and I really had a moment there, too. Do you think she'd go out with me?”

  Olivia saw Beckett look sharply at Evander and Theo, which was when Evander drew back his arm to throw the ball, his elbow smashing right into Theo's nose.

  “What the fuck!” Theo yelled, as Evander jerked his arm one more time and Theo's nose made a nauseating crunching sound.

  A whistle blew and Theo lunged for Evander, who easily sidestepped him, looking as unaffected as ever.

  “You broke my fucking nose!” Theo yelled, as a bunch of the team got between the two of them.

  Olivia opened her eyes. Theo had deserved it, and Evander had not broken any of their rules, but the Dean, Isabella LeFebvre, would come down hard on him. Jamestown Academy had a zero tolerance policy for violence.

  Worth it, Evander said in response to her thoughts, and Olivia laughed, shaking her head.

  Chapter 9

  Joe Riser, the owner/manager of Rise and Grind, a New York transplant who wanted you to know it, hired Tristan on the spot. He was a no-nonsense fast talker with a short temper, but he read OK to Tristan. He instructed her to start over the coming weekend, and to wear “something like what [she was] currently wearing”. He'd provide an apron and a hat. She'd train on Saturday under Ellie Williams, who'd graduated from Jamestown Academy the year before, and then she'd fly solo, under Ellie’s watchful eye, on Sunday morning.

  Tristan was nervous, but not about the job itself -- her eidetic memory would work in her favor as far as how to create orders -- she was nervous about the customer interaction, something she'd never been good at, and she was nervous that this job was the first step in her declining her expected path in the community. Her plan was to sock away her paychecks, paltry though they'd be, so she'd have some little nest egg of her own when she went off to college; she didn't expect that Umbris and Sol would cut her off completely, but she also didn't want to take any chances.

  Tristan arrived home at the same time as Sol and Evander, whose faces were grim.

  “What's going on?” Tristan asked.

  “Your brother here is suspended from school for the rest of the week,” Sol said, eyeballing Evander. “He broke Theo Fitelson’s nose at football practice today.”

  “Ember,” Tristan said, looking regretful.

  “It was an accident,” Evander said, but there was a satisfied gleam in his eye that told Tristan all she needed to know.

  Dinner that night was a strained affair. Tristan was still miffed at Olivia, who was practically mute, she was sulking so much, and Umbris was livid that Evander had gotten himself suspended. Sol, as she’d been since the gathering, was also quiet, and visibly stressed.

  “You know better, Ember,” Umbris said, his brows knit tightly over his dark eyes. “I know you know better. I can’t believe you’d pull a stunt like this.”

  “You can’t believe I’d pull a stunt?” Evander asked, in disbelief. “What a
bout the stunt Theo pulled on Trinity? What about him gloating about it to me like he had any right to put his hands on her?”

  “I’m not his father,” Umbris boomed. “Of course it wasn’t OK for him to do what he did to Trinity and then taunt you, but you know our family is already something of a target in this town, which requires us to fly under the radar as much as possible. The only credit I’ll give you is that you didn’t use your abilities at school, but that’s not worth much!”

  “Dad, please.” Tristan spoke up, and Umbris looked at her, his face like thunder. “If Ember hadn’t done it today, maybe I would have done it tomorrow. Maybe Oceana would have done it on Wednesday. We know how we’re supposed to act, but sometimes we make mistakes, especially when it comes to each other. Ember made a mistake today and he’s paying for it now. He’s not just suspended this week; he’s suspended from the last three football games of the year, too, and he has detention for a month. Dean LeFebvre came down hard on him.”

  Umbris went to respond, but Sol spoke instead.

  “Trinity is right,” Sol said, her voice tired. “Ember is well aware of the consequences for this, at school and here at home. He got an earful from the Dean and an earful from me on the way home. He is going to become well-acquainted with this house and all that needs to be done around here in the coming months.”

  Umbris looked at Sol, still frowning, but he kept silent. It was very rare for Sol to do anything but passively agree with how Umbris saw fit to lead his family, another thing Tristan didn’t think she’d ever be OK with, should she join the community. Additionally, it was also something that had always mystified Tristan -- while Sol was soft-spoken and generally very even-keeled, she was extremely strong of spirit, and she never backed down from doing what was right or fair. It was hard sometimes to reconcile the mother Tristan knew with the wife she appeared to be to Umbris.

  Thankfully, dinner ended soon after that, and the kids were dismissed from the dining room. Umbris requested Olivia close the pocket doors behind them as they left, and she did, lingering for a moment with her ear pressed to the wood.

  “Nice try,” Umbris called dryly, and Olivia rolled her eyes, walking away.

  Tristan went out to the backyard, lying down on the grass in order to stare up at the sky. Shortly, Olivia joined her, plopping down beside her, and Evander came after her, taking Tristan’s other side. The three of them sat in comfortable silence, lost in their own thoughts, listening to the song of the Autumn evening until it grew dark. The downside to being supernaturally intuitive was when the balance was off with one in the home, the balance was off with all in the home, and currently, almost everyone in the home was off-balance.

  Evander flicked his wrist, and the firepit across the yard came to life. This surprised Tristan, but she supposed it shouldn’t have -- Olivia and Evander were picking up new abilities daily, it seemed, which was the way it went for most normal teenagers of the community. Practice made perfect, after all, and the twins seemed to genuinely enjoy achieving new levels of ability. It was another thing Tristan could not relate to, another thing that made her feel isolated even in the presence of her own siblings. She unsealed, sitting up, and Olivia put her arm around her. Tristan gave her a sad smile.

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” Olivia said quietly. “I didn’t know you have been having a hard time lately, and I didn’t mean to make it harder for you.”

  “It’s OK. I’m sorry I’ve been snapping at you lately. Both of you.”

  “Thanks for going to bat for me with Dad,” Evander said, giving Tristan a rare smile. “I was dreading what was coming, since he seemed to still be in the warm-up phase.”

  Tristan nodded.

  “It gets old.”

  Olivia and Evander nodded as well, and the trio lapsed back into silence for a few minutes. Evander had just taken a breath to speak again, when a branch cracked at the far end of their yard. Tristan tensed, memories of Saturday night flooding back, and Olivia and Evander sat up straight. Moments later, a deer appeared, and the three of them breathed a collective sigh of relief. This broke the melancholy that had settled around them, and they laughed, which made the doe look over at them as though they’d offended her.

  “I better go in,” Tristan said, standing and stretching. “I have an essay to finish and a quiz to study for, on top of everything else I have to do to get ready for tomorrow.”

  She said goodnight to Olivia and Evander, heading up to the house. As she approached, she saw Umbris move away from the kitchen window, and Tristan wondered what he and Sol had been discussing in the dining room. As it turned out, she wouldn’t have to wait long to find out.

  “Trinity.” Umbris called to her from the living room as she approached the stairs, and Tristan changed tack, finding him sitting on the couch, alone. The fireplace was going, the only light in the room.

  “Sit, please.”

  Dread in her stomach, Tristan sat on the overstuffed armchair across from the couch. She sealed, unsure what was coming.

  “What’s up?”

  “Mom told me about your argument with Oceana.”

  “Oh,” Tristan said, relieved. She waved her hand. “It’s fine; it was dumb. We’re good.”

  “I saw. I’m glad.”

  Tristan waited, raising her eyebrows just slightly.

  “Trinity. You know that in the extremely unlikely event you were to decide not to join the community after graduation, your Mom and I would not force you to change your mind.”

  Tristan’s heart leapt into her throat, choking her. She nodded.

  “But since that is extremely unlikely, you know that… relationships… with commoners, are ill-advised? You know they can’t come into the community, and besides that, of course, Celes has been chosen for you.”

  Tristan’s heart crashed into her stomach. Of course Umbris was clueless. Why wouldn’t he be?

  “Dad--”

  “You’ve done us proud these four years at Jamestown, keeping your head down and focusing on your studies and not letting your peers distract you. I would hate to see you undo all of your hard work now that you’re in your senior year, especially over a boy. I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but you need to keep Beckett Benson at a distance, Trinity.”

  Tristan’s face went red. There were so many things she wanted to say, so many knee-jerk reactions she had to stop herself from having, opening a can of worms that could never be closed.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tristan said finally, her voice stiff. “Like I told Oceana, Beckett is just my senior project partner, but frankly I’m a little offended that you think I’d trash my academic career over a silly crush, which doesn’t even exist. Education is and always has been, and always will be, more important to me than anything else. But if I were ever to develop a crush on a boy, which would be perfectly normal for someone my age, by the way, I am beyond capable of maintaining more than one thing at a time. I shouldn’t have to tell you this, Dad.”

  The room -- nay, the whole house, maybe even the whole universe -- was dead silent. Slightly out of breath, she didn’t wait for Umbris to recover from his shock and respond; Tristan strode out of the room and up the stairs to her bedroom with bravado she didn't feel, closing her door and then throwing herself face down on her bed.

  A few minutes later, there was a knock on her door.

  “Go away!” Tristan groaned loudly, and whomever had knocked complied.

  Eventually, Tristan sat up, pulling her backpack up onto her bed with her. She grabbed her laptop from her nightstand and got to work on her essay, lamenting that it wouldn’t write itself. It took much longer than she expected to get through, as several times she found herself staring into space, her mind wandering.

  There were too many thoughts for Tristan to even begin to organize, too many from both worlds she had a foot in, and she closed her eyes, squeezing the bridge of her nose. She closed her laptop and shoved it away, deciding to finish her essay in the library at
lunch the next day.

  Tristan tossed and turned that night, her usually comfortable bed feeling as hard and as lumpy as a boulder. Every time she fell asleep, her subconscious plunged her into scenario after scenario of her telling her family she was turning her back on the community, most of which ended with them shunning her and her struggling to survive as a common girl. A few ended with her public hanging, or hands grabbing her from behind and snapping her neck. Just before sunrise, Tristan had the most realistic dream out of all of them -- she and her family were at the gathering, but Beckett was there too, badly beaten and bleeding profusely, restrained by Entros and the other guards. Orion, the mysterious cloaked Elder with the ancient voice, was calling for Beckett's execution. Tristan had just thrown herself in front of Beckett in a futile attempt to protect him when her alarm went off. She jumped awake, breathing hard.

  ***

  Tristan met Beckett after school at what she'd started to refer to as “their bench”, in her head. She was late, having spent her free period in the library, which caused her to lose track of time.

  “Sorry,” Tristan said, flustered, as she sat down, pulling her backpack onto her lap.

  “No worries,” Beckett said, glancing at her before looking back out over the lake.

  Was Tristan imagining it, or did he not seem as happy to see her as he usually did?

  “I--,” Tristan fumbled with her notebook, dropping it on the ground. Papers scattered, and she made a noise of frustration. She grabbed at them, and Beckett jumped up to help.

  Tristan's hand closed over a paper and Beckett’s closed over hers. She froze, looking at him, and Beckett looked back at her, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her stomach tremble. His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth, and the air between them grew charged as Tristan watched him watched her. His hand was warm on hers, and Tristan looked at it, wanting to keep the image in her memory. Finally, she looked away, and Beckett released her, chuckling awkwardly as he ran his hand through his hair.

  “Sorry,” Tristan said again, and Beckett stifled a laugh as she gathered her notebook and papers to her chest and sat back down on the bench.