The Reckoning Read online

  “OK. Well. Let’s go in and take it from there.”

  They got out of the Jeep and Tristan followed Beckett, walking slowly, to the house. She was now so jittery herself that she wanted to shove him ahead, make him hurry up. She felt like she’d received her own letter and was dying to know what contents the envelope held.

  Once inside, they sat down at the kitchen table, the puffy envelope between them.

  “Puffy is good, right? I don’t think they send big acceptance packets with the initial letter anymore, but I also think a rejection is just a single sheet and a much thinner envelope.” Tristan twisted her fingers, hoping, now that she’d spoken her thoughts, she wasn’t wrong.

  “One way to find out.” Beckett inched the envelope towards him with one finger just barely on the corner, as though it was made of acid.

  “Hey,” Tristan said, and Beckett lifted his anxious eyes to hers. “No matter what it says in there, it’s going to be OK.”

  Beckett nodded.

  “It has to be.”

  Tristan nodded in return, and Beckett looked back down at the rectangle that was going to change his life one way or another. Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and opened the envelope, holding the folded papers in his hand for a moment.

  “Will you come over here and sit with me?”

  Tristan jumped up, rounding the table, and Beckett pulled her onto his lap. She looked at him and he looked at her, unfolding the paper.

  Tristan’s eyes flew to the first line. Congratulations on your acceptance to Ward Livingston University!, it read. Your admission to our highly selective college reflects your outstanding academic accomplishments…

  “You got in.” Tristan turned her big eyes on Beckett, who looked utterly gobsmacked. She gently shook his shoulders, so excited for him that she almost hit the ceiling. “Beckett, you got in!”

  Tristan hugged Beckett then, who was still in a state of shock. After a few seconds, however, his arms came around her, crushing her to him, and she could feel his whole body smiling, trembling.

  “Congratulations,” Tristan spoke next to his ear. “I am so, so happy for you. You deserve this so much.”

  Beckett pulled back, kissing her, his hands framing her face. He held onto her even as he broke the kiss, and she gently grasped his wrists.

  “Thank you for being here with me when I did this. If I got mine, that means yours should be coming any day now.”

  Tristan shook her head.

  “Probably not, being at the end of the alphabet. But that reminds me that I need to ask Olivia and Evander to start intercepting the mail for me.”

  Beckett frowned, puzzled, and Tristan cringed inwardly at her thoughtless mistake.

  “Why?”

  “I, uh… My parents would probably open the letter or letters before I could, and I want to be the first to know.” Tristan knew petty felony probably sounded very out of character for Umbris and Sol, but Beckett seemed to accept her answer anyway.

  “So what do you want to do? Can I take you to dinner tonight? Combination birthday and celebration dinner?” Tristan smiled excitedly, still thrilled for Beckett. Her anxious mind tried to start what if-ing her about her own impending acceptance or rejection, but she shoved those thoughts aside. It was Beckett’s day.

  “I would love for you to take me to dinner.” Beckett grinned, squeezing Tristan’s sides, and she squirmed, shrieking with laughter.

  When she managed to jump out of his lap, she shook her head at him, a good-natured smile on her face.

  “No tickling. Ever.”

  “Ever?” Beckett raised both eyebrows.

  Tristan shook her head.

  “Never, ever.”

  Beckett eyeballed her for a few beats, and then very suddenly launched himself out of his chair at her. Tristan turned immediately, taking off running through the house, and they both cracked up as he chased her, hot on her trail. Tristan ran upstairs and into his bedroom, and Beckett squeezed through his door at the last second as she tried to close it, grabbing her around the waist and pinning her against the door. He tickled her her until she was writhing against him, until his smile grazed the side of her neck. Beckett’s fingers stilled, and he slid his hands around her waist, kissing her neck instead. Tristan’s eyes drifted closed as her laughter faded into breathlessness.

  ***

  That evening, both of them having showered and dressed for dinner out, Beckett drove them up to New Orleans. Tristan smiled as they entered the city -- though she’d grown up an hour away, it was still a novelty to her, and she often felt like a tourist whenever she visited. The vibe in the city was unlike anything else Tristan had ever experienced in her relatively short life; she knew people often commented on how the city felt like a living, breathing thing, and she had to agree. There was an energy in the air that could be felt on a visceral level -- a welcoming, easy vitality that was both charming and intoxicating.

  Beckett’s favorite restaurant, as it turned out, was a small café on Canal Street. Tristan felt a brief flicker of unease as they approached -- Dune and Thera Crenshaw’s antique shop was little more than a half a block from the café -- but she ignored it; New Orleans was a city in constant motion, and the odds that Tristan would see Celes or his parents were slim. Besides, Celes knew now about Beckett, which meant Dune and Thera knew as well, so it’s not like Tristan was in danger of having her cover blown. The thought relaxed her, and she looked around the café, grinning, as she and Beckett waited for their food.

  “So how did this place come to be your favorite?”

  “We used to vacation for ten days every year on the Gulf Coast when I lived in Alabama, and the family who owns this place owned one there, too. You wouldn’t believe how excited I was when I came here for the first time and found that out.”

  Tristan smiled at him.

  “You’re pretty cute, you know that?”

  Beckett winked at her just as the waitress arrived with their food. Over shared platters of chicken and andouille gumbo and shrimp and crawfish étouffée, they discussed Beckett’s acceptance to Ward Livingston University.

  “I know you’ll be accepted, too.” Beckett leaned across the table, his gaze intense on Tristan’s. “If I got in? I’m not even half as smart as you are.”

  “That’s not true at all.”

  “It is true. You’re the smartest in the senior class; it’s almost scary how easy everything seems to come to you. Why do you think Emmeline and her friends are so threatened by you?”

  Tristan laughed.

  “Please. Next you’ll tell me they’re just jealous.”

  “They are,” Beckett confirmed seriously, and Tristan shook her head.

  “I think that’s an easy out. Some people are just heinous, no ulterior motive necessary. Anyway, by the way, it might look like everything comes easy to me academically, but I work really hard to get and maintain my grades.”

  Beckett looked appropriately chastened.

  “I know you do. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you.” Tristan would be lying if she said she wasn’t smarting a little, but she appreciated Beckett’s quick apology.

  “Really.” Beckett took Tristan’s hand and squeezed it gently until she looked at him, her black eyes guarded. “I know you work hard, and that you take school more seriously than anything else. I am sorry that I sounded like I was dismissing that.”

  “I appreciate your apology,” Tristan replied.

  They finished their meal in silence, guilt eating away at Beckett. He hadn't meant to hurt Tristan’s feelings; now that the reality of his WLU acceptance was setting in, he was getting nervous about what would happen if, for whatever reason, Tristan wasn't accepted as well, and it was coming out of his mouth all wrong.

  Tristan paid for their dinner and they stepped out onto Canal Street, hand in hand.

  “Want to walk around?” Beckett asked, and Tristan nodded, but she planted her feet when he started to walk away from the café.


  “Let's go the other way,” Tristan suggested, and Beckett complied with a nod.

  “Why this way?”

  “There's a shop in the other direction that I'd like to avoid. Family friends own it, and it would be awkward to run into them.”

  “Why's that?” Beckett frowned.

  “I don't know,” Tristan scrunched her nose. “It's always weird to run into my parents’ friends when I'm out and about.”

  “Would these be the friends whose son so rudely interrupted me trying to kiss you on your porch back in December?”

  Tristan laughed. “Yes.”

  “Ah. So is it seeing the parents that would be weird, or seeing, what was his name? Cameron?”

  “Canton. And both.”

  “Uh huh. Because he has a crush on you.”

  Tristan looked surprised, but nodded.

  “Something like that.”

  “Well I can't say I blame him,” Beckett grinned, and Tristan laughed, holding his hand a little bit tighter.

  They meandered down the strip, dazzling in the dusky evening light, eventually turning back to where they'd parked when they'd run out of shops to peer into and sights to point out.

  Tristan was thankful when they made it to the car without running into anyone familiar, and she and Beckett held hands during the ride back to Lavelle, letting the music fill the comfortable silence between them.

  When The Rolling Stones’ Wild Horses came on, Beckett turned up the volume.

  “This is my all-time favorite song.”

  Tristan gave him her old familiar squint, and Beckett laughed.

  “What?”

  Tristan looked at him for a few more silent beats before the ghost of a smile crossed her face and she shook her head.

  “You just keep surprising me, that's all.”

  Chapter 31

  When Tristan arrived home the next day, she asked Olivia and Evander to walk and talk with her. When they were at a safe distance from the house, Olivia swept her hand over them to protect them from Sol and Umbris’s potentially prying ears, and the twins looked at Tristan expectantly.

  Tristan took a deep breath.

  “I’m not joining the community in June.”

  Olivia and Evander exchanged puzzled glances.

  “We know.”

  “Well, I know you know, but this is the first time I’m saying it out loud, definitively, instead of heavily hinting at it.”

  Olivia and Evander nodded, and Olivia’s eyebrows lifted, impressed.

  “You’re right. How does it feel?”

  “Scary, but good.” Tristan took another deep breath. “I need your help. I’ll probably actually need your help a lot in the coming months, and I’m sorry for that, but right now all I need you guys to do is watch the mail for me. I applied to a bunch of colleges over the summer, and now is the time where the letters will be coming in, letting me know if I’ve been accepted or rejected. Since I haven’t talked to Mom and Dad yet, I just need you to intercept the mail for me until I do.”

  “And when are you going to talk to them, Trinity?” Evander asked, crossing his arms and looking wary.

  “I don’t know. Soon, I hope.” Tristan had a hard time looking him in the eye; her cowardice knew no bounds.

  Olivia and Evander exchanged another look, seeming to discuss something between them that Tristan could not hear.

  “Please,” Tristan said softly. “I know it’s not fair. I know I’m asking a lot, and I know it’s not fair of me to ask you to help me deceive them, but please.”

  Olivia sighed and Evander looked unhappy, but they both reluctantly nodded.

  “OK. To make it easier on all of us, I’m just going to sort of phase remembering to get the mail out of their heads for the time being, that way one of us can grab it when we can instead of stressing every day that we need to make some mad scramble to the box before they do. I’ll do the same with Ivan and Ruby.”

  “Thank you, Oceana, Ember.” Tristan gripped their hands. “Thank you.”

  “You need to talk to Mom and Dad sooner rather than later, though, Trin,” Evander said, frowning. “You know it’s going to be worse, especially with Dad, the longer you wait.”

  “I know.”

  As she watched them walk away, however, Tristan knew that all three of them knew the same thing -- she had no intention of talking to Sol and Umbris any time soon.

  ***

  As though the universe had been listening to the siblings’ conversation and took it as the green light for Tristan to start receiving her letters, the Wallace’s mailbox over the next few weeks saw a near constant stream of acceptances and rejections from colleges and universities across the country. With an electrifying mix of guilt and elation, Tristan squirreled the letters away in the bottom drawer of her desk, sorted into two large envelopes marked simply with “A” and “R”. At night, she pulled out the “A” envelope, thumbing through the growing stack of congratulatory acceptances. Tulane University, Louisiana State University, UCLA, University of Pennsylvania, Flagler College, James Madison University -- all prestigious, all of their acceptances incredibly, gobsmackingly flattering. Tristan’s head spun with each response, good or bad, and she was in disbelief to the point of dizziness at times.

  Tristan’s school counselor, Virginia Wicker, had taken an exhausting amount of convincing to keep Tristan’s news on the downlow -- Tristan could not afford for a fuss to be made over any of this part of her high school career, and had eventually told Ms. Wicker flat out that her parents were not aware she’d been applying anywhere and it was a conversation Tristan and Tristan alone had to have with them first before she’d grant the school permission to acknowledge her acceptances and her final decision. Ms. Wicker had involved Dean LeFebvre then and, while neither of the women could quite fit Tristan’s story with the impression they’d gotten of Sol and Umbris over the years, they had ultimately, thankfully, respected Tristan’s wishes. Beckett, for his part, was beside himself with pride, yet they both still waited with bated breath for the response from Ward Livingston.

  Chapter 32

  By the time April’s gathering arrived, Tristan felt like she was living a nightmare. The repetitiveness of the gatherings, almost every thirty days exactly, where she not only had to pretend she was joining the community in June but had to start pretending like she was excited to be doing so, was taking a huge toll on her mental health. Her nerves were stretched so thin she was sure they were transparent, and she didn’t know how much longer she would last before they snapped and curled in on themselves, causing her to unravel completely.

  Not helping matters was how intense her course load was at school now that graduation was rapidly approaching -- between final projects in multiple classes, her big project with Beckett that saw them going into the next town multiple times every week to help tutor ESL elementary students, and beginning prep for final exams, Tristan was barely keeping her head above water. Beckett was dealing with all of the same things plus football, and the only silver lining to the absolutely crushing schedule that Tristan could find was that it kept Emmeline and her friends equally as frantically busy, which meant they left Tristan alone entirely.

  On top of all of that, Beckett had started casually mentioning prom, which was being held the first weekend in May, same as the gathering. Tristan had told him she was not interested, had told him that she had her usual family get together that night, but Beckett would not be deterred. Already trying to pour from an empty bucket, Tristan let the subject drop for the time being; she didn't have the energy to do anything but hope that Beckett would start listening to her sooner rather than later.

  It was sometime during the infusions that Sol approached Tristan, idling at the edge of the clearing by herself, with panic on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” Tristan asked immediately, as fear gripped her heart.

  “I can’t find Oceana. Have you seen her?”

  “No,” Tristan said, frowning. “I’m sure she’s here
somewhere.”

  “I’ve looked everywhere, Trinity!” Sol snapped, and Tristan’s eyebrows climbed all the way up her forehead.

  “OK. OK, I’ll help you look. Where are Dad and Ember?”

  “Looking themselves. Come on.”

  Tristan took off with Sol, knowing that if she was this worried, it was with good reason -- as they hurried along, Tristan realized that Sol must not be able to psychically locate Oceana; it was the only thing that would explain her panic.

  “You can’t reach her, can you?” Tristan looked up at Sol, her expression confirming Tristan’s suspicions. “Can Ember?”

  Sol shook her head slightly, and Tristan stumbled, feeling like she was going to vomit. A twin connection was even more powerful than a parent-child connection -- the only way a twin connection could be broken, as far as Tristan knew, was if one of them…

  Tristan shook her head hard, blinking back tears. No. There was no way. Maybe she didn’t use her abilities anymore, but there was no way Tristan wouldn’t know if something horrible had happened to Oceana. There was no way none of them would not have somehow known what was happening before it had happened to her.

  “We’ll find her.” Tristan’s voice was hard, and she and Sol met up with Celes at the entrance of the clearing.

  “Nothing.” Celes was pale, and again Tristan fought off a wave of nausea.

  Just then, a commotion caught their ears. Tristan, Sol, and Celes turned their heads at once to see a crowd forming at the top of the clearing. They took off, pushing their way through the other community members, some who protested loudly but stopped when Celes whipped his head around to look at them. Sol, slight though she was, charged a path through the horde, Tristan right on her heels. When they reached the head of the clearing, Sol stopped short and Tristan bumped into her.

  “Sorry.”

  Tristan moved around Sol, and a system-shocking mix of dread and relief flooded through her. Olivia was OK, alive and well as far as they could tell, but she stood a few feet from Orion, her eyes locked on him, his on her. Tristan stared at Olivia, trying to determine if she was under some sort of trance, but she couldn’t immediately tell.