The Reckoning Read online

  “Well we are talking about very prestigious Jamestown Academy students, you know,” Tristan replied, grinning.

  “And how about you, Trinity? What career path do you want to take?”

  Tristan froze, her eyes on the trim in front of her. The question felt like a trap, though she knew Sol had no malicious intent. She didn’t respond right away, instead watching her paintbrush move back and forth over the same spot.

  “If that were to be the path I chose,” Tristan finally said, her tone careful, “I think being a researcher sounds interesting. You know, like the people who are paid to research subjects for authors?”

  Sol nodded, smiling fondly.

  “That doesn’t surprise me to hear.”

  Tristan again said nothing, knowing the less she said, the less she’d incriminate herself.

  “And what is your dream school?”

  “Oh,” Tristan waved her hand. “I haven’t really looked much into it… but I did also actually check out Ward Livingston in passing, and I can see why it’s Beckett’s first choice.”

  “Hmm.”

  Tristan moved around the back of the shed, still not looking at Sol. She was a terrible liar, always had been, and she was sure Sol already knew she was lying, but she didn’t want to look up and have her face confirm it.

  “Have we talked about the acceptance ceremony coming up in June?” Sol asked, and Tristan’s stomach clenched as she shook her head.

  “Well, you probably already know about it, but just in case you don’t, it will take place a week or two after you graduate. All new recruits have to wear white, of course, and you will all line up before the adults in the community, since no children are invited, in front of this gorgeous altar all lit up with fiery torches. Two of the Elders, usually the oldest and the youngest, will greet you and the crowd, and ask for volunteers to come up to lead you through your vow. They’ll say it first, and all of you will repeat after them. When that’s finished, the Elders will come around and seal you into the community by placing their hands over yours. Your hands will feel very pleasantly warm, there will be a flash of gold as they seal you, and it will be over. Not much pomp and circumstance for a ritual that has such importance placed upon it.”

  Tristan felt sick, and she dared not open her mouth in the event she vomited; she knew about the acceptance ceremony, not because she’d heard about it, but because she’d seen it in her premonition.

  “Maybe too much importance,” Sol mused, and Tristan’s senses began to tingle.

  “I don’t think anyone really talks about the alternative, do they?” Not waiting for an answer, Sol continued. “Probably because the last person to deflect from the community did it at least ten years ago, after the laws had changed.”

  Sol lapsed into silence, and Tristan peeked over at her to find her staring off into the distance. Sol shook her head, shrugging as she resumed painting, and Tristan did the same.

  “Anyway. Deflection is rare, but it does happen. I don’t know a ton about that path, but I know for certain it’s not an easy one to take, if for no other reason than having the community turn its back on you after being there from the first breath you ever took. And of course you lose your abilities, and any psychic connection you have with anyone in the community, including your own family, and you lose the life that had been mapped out for you and the person it was mapped out with. It’s incredibly lonely and isolating, from what little I’ve seen, though due to the law changes it’s probably easier now, in a way, than it ever was. Used to be that the family of the deflector was forbidden from reaching out to them once they made that choice, until and even after they were caught and brought back. That I do know, and all too well.”

  Tristan was openly staring at Sol now, but Sol was miles away, heartbreak written all over her face as she remembered Adara.

  “I think it’s also hard because once you break, that’s it. The wagons circle around the community members who are inevitably injured by the deflection, leaving the deflector to grapple alone, with the exception of their family, and maybe not even always. You just immediately live life as a commoner. No more connections to help you with your future path, or inclusivity into neighborhood schools and events, not that everyone cares about that.” Sol resumed talking like she hadn’t stopped, and Tristan continued to stare at her, paintbrush suspended in the air. “I think we don’t realize, being uncommon, what a privilege we have as community members. But common people do it every day, and some have a much harder time than others. It all works out eventually, or so it seems. It’s just not a path I’d ever choose for myself, or for my children.”

  Sol finally looked over at Tristan, who blinked several times, at a loss for words.

  “It’s not up to me to choose, though, and you and the twins know your Father and I will support you in whichever direction your compass spins you. I didn’t mean to dump all of this on you at once and at random, but we haven’t gotten to talk much lately, and I feel like your Father and I have hardly talked to you at all about what’s on the horizon for you.”

  “It’s OK,” Tristan said, her voice sticking in her throat. “Everyone has been busy.”

  “Yes.” Sol surveyed Tristan over the shed roof. “I’m glad we had this opportunity.”

  “Me too,” Tristan replied, meaning it. Her voice was soupy with emotion, and she knew Sol would have to be blind to miss the tears in her eyes, but Sol just gave her a placid smile and kept on painting.

  When they’d finished, they headed back inside, Tristan feeling both heavier and lighter than she had been as she made her way upstairs to shower. Before joining her family in the dining room for dinner and their small gift exchange, Tristan shook her head hard, trying to clear it. Like Oceana had said, it was only December, and to fret over June now seemed both silly and like an exercise in futility. It would do Tristan and her anxiety a world of good to take each day as it came until she could no longer put off what loomed ahead.

  Chapter 24

  Tristan left for work the next morning when everyone was still sleeping, per the usual for her offensively early shifts. Business had clearly resumed as though Christmas had not been the day before, judging by the frazzled greeting Ellie gave her as Tristan hurriedly joined her behind the counter.

  “How was opening?” Tristan asked when they got a moment to breathe, looking at Ellie’s short hair, which was standing on end.

  “Horrific,” Ellie replied, smoothing down the chestnut strands. “There was a line out the door before six, and we had three allergy orders in a row.”

  Tristan pulled a face.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “You’ve done it yourself more than once,” Ellie said dismissively. “It’s fine now that you're here, but man there are a lot of angry people the day after a holiday. Also, where did they all come from? Lavelle is not that big, and I didn’t recognize at least half of the faces.”

  Tristan laughed.

  “Friends and families in town for the holidays?”

  “Probably. I need to get me some friends and family who would go on six A.M. coffee runs for me. Hey, how’s Evander? He canceled Sunday but didn’t really say why.”

  “Oh,” Tristan replied, feeling awkward, “He forgot he’s grounded until the new year.”

  “For what?” Ellie’s eyes widened, not a trace of shame in them for prying.

  “He got into a fight at school. Broke his football teammate’s nose.”

  “Damn,” Ellie replied, looking both impressed and startled.

  “The guy deserved it,” Tristan assured her, giving her the Cliff’s notes on what had happened on Halloween.

  “Theo Fitelson is a jerk,” Ellie nodded, scowling. “I remember him too well, which is saying something considering he was a sophomore when I graduated.”

  Tristan’s shift was short that day, two o’clock arriving before she felt like she’d had a chance to even blink, and she waved goodbye to Ellie before rushing home to change before the whole Wallace
clan headed to the food kitchen.

  Dolores was delighted to see Tristan back so soon, and beside herself when she saw the entire family had come, too. Sol took Tristan's usual place beside Dolores to assist with the cooking, and Tristan, Umbris, and her siblings manned the food station.

  The Wallaces arrived home after the dinner rush and subsequent cleanup, and Beckett showed up shortly after that. He and Tristan sat out on the front porch, watching the thunderstorm that had rolled into Lavelle on Beckett’s drive over.

  “It’s a shame we never get snow,” Tristan commented.

  Beckett shook his head.

  “It’s not.”

  Tristan laughed.

  “Not a fan?”

  “I have never actually seen snow and I’m in no rush. I am a warm weather guy through and through.”

  “Boston has all four seasons, you know.”

  “Well if I’m lucky, we’ll both get into WLU and I’ll have you to keep me warm when my cold intolerant self is shiverin’ in my layers of fleece and wool.”

  Tristan laughed.

  “I don’t think it gets that cold, but I’ll be happy to if it works out that way.”

  Tristan rested her head on Beckett’s shoulder, looking up at him as he gazed back down at her.

  “It has to work out that way,” Beckett murmured, and Tristan hoped it would more than anything.

  Chapter 25

  The rest of winter break passed more quickly than Tristan was ready for, for a few reasons. First, she and Beckett had seen each other every day of their break, had rung in the new year together alongside Olivia, Tyler, Evander, and Ellie, and though they would see each other at school every day also, Tristan did not want to relinquish the freedom of doing whatever they wanted with their time together. A very close second, however, was Tristan’s unpreparedness for how things would be once she and Beckett returned to Jamestown Academy as a couple. Third was her unpreparedness to return to Jamestown Academy at all -- the high school's social network was connected in a way that assured gossip got around before it had even fully left the lips of the informers, so by now everyone knew what had happened the day school had let out, and what punishments had been doled out for Emmeline and her squad.

  Tristan believed that Beckett would do the right thing and defend her against anyone who had anything to say, and she knew that having Olivia in her corner, too, was priceless, considering Olivia was probably the mouthiest thing to walk the halls of Jamestown Academy, but Tristan dreaded her return all the same, and was not very comforted by the knowledge that Emmeline and her friends would not also be returning at the same time. On the contrary, Tristan felt as though their later return was only delaying the inevitable.

  For his part, Beckett was steadfast in his reassurance that everything would be fine. Though he didn’t say it, Tristan got the impression that he’d spoken to his immediate circle of friends and they now knew better than to try and antagonize her. He hadn’t mentioned this, either, but Tristan also suspected his friends hadn’t taken the news of their coupling as well as Beckett had been assuming they would -- more than once, she’d seen Beckett scowling at his phone after he received a message, but her anxiety had kept her from asking for details.

  “Hey,” Tristan called out to Olivia on the Monday morning they returned to school, as Olivia passed by Tristan’s bedroom door.

  “Hey,” Olivia replied, stopping and leaning against the door jamb.

  “Do you have any lingering bad feelings?” Tristan asked, twisting her fingers together. “Or did they disappear after the attack?”

  Olivia studied her for a moment, her gray eyes somber.

  “There is something residual, yes. It’s weaker than before, but it’s there.”

  Tristan nodded.

  “I was hoping it was just my usual anxiety, but something told me to ask you anyway.”

  “It will be OK, whatever it is. Beckett has you, me and Ember and Tyler have you. If anyone corners you for whatever reason, just stress signal or, if you can, just walk away and come find one of us. It sucks so bad that you have to do this, Trin, but please do it.”

  Tristan nodded.

  “I will.”

  Olivia smiled.

  “Do you want to ride to school together?”

  “I would love that.”

  It turned out that Tristan had worried for no reason, at least that day. Plenty of people stared, at her and at her and Beckett together, and there were more whispers than usual ricocheting off the walls of the old building, but no one approached Tristan and no one said anything to her outright.

  Just as he'd promised, Beckett’s friends, who clearly had their reservations and allegiances to Emmeline and her besties, also acted very neutrally towards Tristan. She didn’t imagine she’d ever reach the point of friendliness with them, but Tristan wasn’t interested in that, anyway -- she could live very contentedly with neutrality.

  The first week back, as a whole, was only brutal in the way of their schoolwork. There was no such thing as easing back into the curriculum at Jamestown, and with mid-year finals approaching at the end of the month, the heat was on. Tristan also had the January gathering the first weekend after she’d returned, which she told Beckett about on Friday as they sat on their bench during their free period.

  “Another family reunion?” Beckett asked, raising his eyebrows. “You guys really like each other, huh?”

  Tristan laughed.

  “Yes, there are get-togethers every month. Once I graduate I won’t have to keep going, but for now…” Tristan shrugged.

  Beckett frowned good-naturedly.

  “Your family reunions are mandatory? And are they still reunions if you have them every thirty days?”

  Tristan laughed again.

  “I know it sounds ridiculous. Families are strange, aren’t they?”

  Beckett nodded, dropping the subject, and Tristan was relieved.

  “Do you want to go to the movies tonight?” Beckett asked. “Our local theatre has been playing old movies, and this weekend is The Haunting, from 1963.”

  “Sure,” Tristan smiled. “What time?”

  “Good question.” Beckett pulled out his phone, looking up from the screen a few minutes later. “There’s a nine o’clock showing. Does that work?”

  Tristan nodded.

  “I’m working until eight. Do you want to pick me up from Rise and Grind or shall I meet you at the movies or what?”

  “I can pick you up from the shop.”

  “It’s a date,” Tristan said through a grin.

  She and Beckett gathered their things and he walked her to her car. At the driver's side door he kissed her, a quick one, and Tristan watched him go, grinning when he looked back at her over his shoulder with a smile. She hurried home, running late for her shift now, and threw a change of clothes into her bag before going right back out the door to Rise and Grind.

  “T,” Joe said, as soon as Tristan came through the door.

  “Joe?”

  “Can you work tomorrow night?”

  Tristan pulled a face.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t. I have a family thing.”

  “Ellie has a family thing, too. I really need to hire a weekender.”

  “I’m sorry. You know I’d do it otherwise.”

  “I know, I know. Alright, let me get a sign posted in the window for a weekend position, and I’ll cover tomorrow night myself.”

  Tristan clocked in and tied her apron around her waist, listening to Joe tell Ellie about his New York holiday as he did inventory. Joe didn’t usually take on shifts at Rise and Grind -- he preferred to work at home whenever possible, trusting the shop in Ellie and Tristan’s hands. Tristan was glad he was going to hire someone else for the weekends, however; even though their town was small, and coverage wasn’t normally a problem, it would be nice if Tristan didn’t have to pick up Ellie’s slack quite so often.

  The shop door opened, and Emmeline, Hattie, Tara, and Eloise entered. Tristan�
��s stomach dropped into her toes as they approached the counter, and she had never been more thankful that Joe had decided to come in that evening. Joe, who knew what had happened to Tristan and who had been responsible, stepped forward. Ellie made a face, and Tristan smiled her way -- she knew Ellie would have been just as happy to go to bat for her.

  “Hi,” Emmeline greeted Joe sweetly. “Do you have any drinks called The Snitch? I’m a big Harry Potter fan, see, and I notice quite a few drinks on the menu up there are named after movies.”

  “Do you see one up there called The Snitch?” Joe asked, and Ellie snorted.

  Emmeline’s cheeks turned very faintly pink, but she merely raised an eyebrow. Her friends, who had been laughing, instead looked offended on her behalf.

  “No secret menu in this rinky dink place, then.” Emmeline’s eyes moved to Tristan, and for a few seconds the two of them had a staredown.

  “Secret menus are for chains. Do you want to order something or do you want to let one of your friends order instead?” Not waiting for an answer, Joe turned to Tristan. “T, do me a favor and grab a new bag of the Cape Cod dark roast from the back, would ya?”

  Tristan nodded, grateful beyond words for Joe, and disappeared into the back. Rise and Grind didn’t carry a dark roast Cape Cod blend, which Tristan laughed quietly about once the door had swung closed behind her. She busied herself with organizing the stock shelves until the door behind her opened and Ellie poked her head in.

  “They’re gone. You’ll never believe this, but they didn’t actually want to order anything.”

  Tristan laughed.

  “You don’t say.”

  Ellie shook her head.

  “Are they still bothering you, at school?”

  “They’re all suspended until February, but judging by how tonight went, I am assuming they will get right back to it when they return.”

  Tristan went back out into the shop, thanking Joe for handling Emmeline and the other girls.

  “Wicked,” Joe muttered, shaking his head. “Wicked, wicked girls.”

  “Are you safe?” Ellie asked, and Tristan looked at her in surprise, thinking she sounded just like Celes.