“Thanks!” I gasped, still breathless. I wiped my still sweaty forehead with the back of my hand and placed both hands on my h*ps completely exhausted without the benefit of my supernatural powers. “They were good.”
“Not as good as you,” Tristan laughed. He moved a basketball back and forth casually in his hands and kept his intense gaze on me. His gaze was always intense lately, as if he had to watch me constantly or I would disappear into thin air. Sometimes his over protectiveness would get on my nerves, but this look, this new look wasn’t so much platonically possessive as it was…. I didn’t really know what it was. I felt my blood heat inside my veins and found the need to defuse the moment with humor.
“Well, that’s a given,” I boasted sarcastically. “But seriously, they were tough. How is their guy’s team?”
“They’re rated number nine this year. They started out the season slow, but before break they killed Scribner-Snyder, who is rated higher than us…. so we will see. Lincoln and I have some tricks up our sleeves though, I think we’ll do pretty good tonight,” Tristan smiled widely, glancing over at his opponents who were filing out of the visitors’ locker room in an adrenaline surging warm-up routine.
“Of course you will,” I promised encouragingly. “Watch out for number seventeen though, his sister played middle too but she kept taking these random three-pointers and catching us off guard.”
“I saw that,” Tristan agreed, his eyes narrowing in focus. “Piper looked pretty pissed about it.”
“That’s because Piper is super possessive about her three-point record, even if they’re on the other team. Trust me, I haven’t even tried to take one since junior high,” I noticed the rest of my team had disappeared into the locker room and were probably waiting on me for the after-game pep talk from Coach. “I better go! Good luck though! I expect to be pointed at after the best play of the game! Tonight I’m thinking I want a 360 dunk, while you…. bark like a dog.”
I laughed at our pre-game tradition. Before every one of our games, I came up with ridiculous scenarios and if they were winning by a lot Tristan would try to incorporate them into the game in his own tamed down version. In his last game he had performed a tap-dancing jig while trying to throw the ball inbounds and then clucked like a chicken during a set of free throws shot by the opposing team. His teammates thought he was crazy and his coach only tolerated his antics because he was so good at winning games.
“What is with all these sounds now? It used to just be fancy moves! Next week I’m going to have to sing opera or recite the pledge of allegiance,” he shook his head at me, but was laughing and I knew I had already won.
“Those are great ideas!” I agreed energetically and gripped his bare bicep before moving around him.
“Hey!” he called before I could walk away. “Lincoln’s party tonight? What do you think?”
“Throw in some opera and you have yourself a deal,” I negotiated, wondering if this party was a good idea, but Tristan seemed to really want me to go.
Tristan shook his head at me and then took off onto the court when the official warm-up music came blasting through the gym speakers. I paused to watch as he led his team out, dribbling a basketball in a wide arc before running toward the backboard and tossing the basketball hard against the Plexiglas screen so the guy behind him could jump up, catch it and repeat the move down the line.
Something like pride bubbled up inside me as I watched Tristan maneuver around the court and command the attention of his team. He wasn’t a Warrior, but he was a truly gifted human athlete and he was mine.
Well not mine.
He could never be mine. I belonged to a destiny that didn’t include high school boys, or best friends…. or really anyone else besides Seth.
But right now he was my best friend. And if he wanted me to go to Lincoln’s party tonight I really couldn’t tell him no…. even if there was a nagging feeling in my gut that warned me something ominous hovered overhead.
I shook out my knotted, sweat-soaked ponytail and bounded into the locker room, ignoring my instincts and trying my best to focus on Coach Litz’ victory speech.
----
“I think I could play that sport,” Seth mused as we walked into Lincoln’s farmhouse that was full of rowdy teenage life. The party was extra lively after two winning varsity games and the first week of school after winter break being over. Lincoln’s parents were some of the wealthier farmers in the area so his house was only a couple years old and sat on two thousand acres of land.
“I think you could too,” I agreed, knowing as an Angel he could really do anything, including varsity basketball. “The hardest part of the game is staying human. I mean, initially that’s the hardest part of the game and then after that it depends on where your strengths are.”
“I can see why you use these sports to train though, they seem very invigorating,” Seth offered, sounding more like Jupiter than himself.
I laughed as the rest of our group gathered around us inside, “Make sure you report that back to Jupiter for me.”
“What about Jupiter?” Piper asked, pulling her long dark hair over her shoulder. Her copper bangles jingled around her wrist, matching the bronze beadwork of her hot pink, stylish tunic.
“It’s big, right?” I replied vaguely, changing the subject.
“Super big, weirdo,” Piper laughed sending me a curious look.
“So this is what underage drinking looks like?” Seth asked while taking in the wild teens in front of him that had turned Lincoln’s living room into a dance floor. Lincoln sat perched on the top of the staircase leading upstairs watching with restrained horror as Rigley’s party turned destructive on his parents’ expensive home.
“Well, this is what small-town underage drinking looks like,” Piper explained with obvious tones of disgust. “When it’s cold outside at least…. in the summer we prefer cornfields and bonfires. It’s so much more high class.”
“Where do you guys get the alcohol?” Seth asked, not necessarily judging but clearly interested. Red plastic cups were passed between students who drained them of their contents and then hurried back to the kitchen for more.
“The creek,” Tristan spoke up for the first time. He had been unusually quiet as he watched the festivities unfold from the doorway to a dark sitting room. I kept my eyes focused on Tristan, knowing that if I looked beyond him I would see outlines of couples in positions and situations that I would never be able to erase from my memory.
“The creek?” Seth asked, unsure if he heard correctly.
“Yeah, Rigley and some of the other guys keep their booze in a cooler, tied up down by the creek on his dad’s property. The water keeps everything cold,” Tristan explained as if it should be obvious.
“That is the most hillbilly thing I have ever heard,” Piper sighed and Tristan grinned at her.
“Where do you keep your booze?” Seth asked Tristan directly, his honey colored eyes flashing with the challenge.
“I don’t have any booze to keep,” Tristan replied casually, but his own green eyes hardened in response. This was an unspoken argument over my virtue and I recognized it immediately.
“Someone should go console Lincoln,” I changed the subject and gave Piper a suggestive glance. “Just promise him we’ll help clean up everything tomorrow.”
“Why do I have to go?” Piper whined, tipping her head back so that her straight bangs flopped to the side.
“Because your butt looks hot in those jeans!” I shouted over the music, smacking her directly in the discussed area.
Piper shot a hateful glance over her shoulder and then stomped through the middle of the makeshift dance floor in her knee high Muk-Luks. She sat down next to Lincoln with an unsatisfied plop and gestured at the house. I smiled at the way Lincoln’s cheeks pinkened and the way he tried to brush his stick straight blonde hair out of his eyes. They were adorable. If only Piper would admit it.
“So what do you do at these parties if you don’t drink, Stella?” Seth asked, assuming correctly that I wouldn’t partake in underage drinking.
“Oh you know, this and that, sometimes I drive kids home, sometimes I get to hold hair back when they’ve had a little too much to drink and sometimes I try to talk them out of ridiculous stunts that usually involve Rigley trying to jump off something extremely high in order to prove his manhood,” I shouted loudly over the music that increased in volume with the popularity of a recent pop hit.
“And sometimes you dance,” Tristan reminded me by reaching for my hands and pulling me to the dance floor.
“And sometimes I dance,” I called back, giving Seth a smile before turning to Tristan.
We moved to the middle of the living room and joined in the merriment. His hands moved around me as they had for years, it was casual, a friendly activity that we’d done for years. Or at least it used to be…. something in Tristan’s eyes reminded me that things had changed, and not just in my life, but in our relationship.
The upbeat pop song turned into something slower, more seductive and Tristan’s movements matched the beat. A flutter spread its wings in my stomach and I let Tristan lean in and hold me to him. He pulled me closer still, splaying one hand across my lower back. I stumbled forward into him, surprised by his boldness, and the heat of his hand cementing my body to his. I looked up into his emerald green eyes and realized this was exactly where I wanted to be.
He stared back for a moment, as if his gaze was transfixed to mine. The rest of the dance floor faded away and an unfamiliar kind of confusion settled over me. There was something in that gaze that I didn’t or couldn’t or wouldn’t understand. I was hyper aware of every place his body touched mine, and especially of his strong hand holding me against his body. I could smell him, feel him…. kiss him….
As quickly as we fell into the bewitchment, we fell out. Tristan let me fall away from him, taking his hand off my back and grabbing my hands instead. Sensual turned to platonic and our bodies moved numbly to the beat of the song. His face turned from penetrating to playful and he flashed his warm smile at me, letting me know we were still safe as friends.
And I inhaled again, not realizing I had stopped breathing.
My eyes floated to Seth, like I was searching for punishment for the brief moment between Tristan and I, but Seth wasn’t looking at me. A surge of something unfamiliar settled in my chest as I noticed Bree Henry hanging on his arm. She was talking fast and flipping her hair in the flirty way that usually got her attention. But then I relaxed when I realized he wasn’t looking at her, or even paying her any attention at all.
His eyes had found something more interesting to watch. My eyes followed his gaze and I inhaled sharply at the scene. A dark circle of Shadows swirled around the ceiling watching the party down below. They were mostly obscured by the dark room, but Seth and I knew what to look for. An involuntary shudder slithered down my spine as the numbers of Darkness grew overhead. They whipped their bodies in excited movements, switching their back ends as if they were tails, reveling in the underage drunkenness.