Malice (5 page)

“
Samara
,” he snapped. “Stop messing around!”

I blinked at him, realizing that I had
almost
made a complete fool of myself. I’d slid my hand to his chest. I was gazing into his eyes, completely lost in what was slowly turning into a lust-filled fantasy.

I felt my heart slam in my chest and my stomach lurched. He rarely called me by my full name. He was clearly fuming over what I’d done.

Before I could snatch my hand away, he plucked it away himself.

“Do you think this is
funny
?” he demanded. “This isn’t funny. Why would you do that to her? What in the hell were you thinking? It’s not like she’s able to protect herself or retaliate.”

His tone was in that odd mode, somewhere between a whisper and a yell.

I took a step back.

I
hadn’t
been thinking. Not then, clearly not now either.

That was the problem. Lately, whenever Tristan was involved, I had a habit of completely losing my head.

“
Why
did you do that?” The whisper-yell had turned into a whisper-shriek.

Why
? Because I didn’t like seeing them together. Because I wanted it to be
my
hand on his bicep. Because I was afraid he would start to feel things for Julie that he’d never feel for me.

Why
? Simplified…because I was jealous.

I couldn’t tell him that.

So I said the only thing I could.

“I did it because I can.”

“He’s going to hate me for this,” I moaned into my hands.

“Don’t be silly,” Daphne said. She dropped down onto the couch next to me, causing the cushions to bounce.

“He might be mad at you right now, but he won’t stay mad at you,” Finola tried to assure me. “Tristan could never hate you.”

“He’ll get over it,” Daphne said firmly. She’d just gotten back from scavenging in Mom’s kitchen. She popped the last bite of a lemon bar into her mouth.

“I’m not so sure. You didn’t see the way he looked at me,” I argued. I grimaced as the scene played over and over in my mind. Tristan had taken a step away from me.
I did it because I can.
Then his face had gone completely blank. He looked at me as if he didn’t know me at all. Without another word, he’d turned and walked away. Julie had obviously followed us. She had been standing at the bottom of the steps waiting for him. He walked up to her without a backward glance at me.

That was the last I’d seen of him today, his back to me as he left with Julie.

“What
were
you thinking?” Finola asked. Her tone was curious, not the least bit accusatory.

“She wasn’t thinking,” Daphne said with a knowing smile. “She was jealous and she was just reacting.”

I scowled at her because she was right.

“Enough about Tristan,” she continued with a smirk. “We have more important things to discuss.”

Finola and I shared a knowing look. “More important things” typically revolved around Daphne’s love life. Which, at the moment, was surprisingly quiet.

She wiggled around in her seat so she could face me. “Xavier wants to go out with you,” she said. She smiled beatifically at me, as though she were bestowing upon me the greatest gift of all time. To her, she probably was. She was bestowing upon me the interest of her brother.

I shook my head, not wanting to offend but not wanting to mislead either. Besides, she couldn’t be serious.

Could she?

Her smile slipped into something more somber.

“Xavier,” she said slowly, as if I perhaps was too dense to catch her meaning the first time, “wants to go out with you.”

My thought process finally sputtered into action. The best I could come up with was, “Why?” He’d never seemed even remotely interested in me. And I was definitely not interested in him.

“That’s all you have to say?
Why
?” Daphne demanded. “Do you know how many girls are dying to go out with him?”

I did know. The problem was that Xavier knew it too. He reveled in it.

“I’m really not his type,” I said, trying to find a graceful way out of this conversation. His type was totally into him. His type was willing to fall down at his feet. His type was willing to do anything he asked of them. His type…was definitely not me.

“Every girl is his type,” Daphne argued.

Finola laughed. “Is that supposed to win her over?”

I shook my head. “There will be no winning me over. I’m not interested and I can’t believe he is either.”

“That’s because you can’t stop thinking about Tristan long enough to give anyone else a chance. Either do something about it, or move on. At the very least, maybe you could go out with my brother a few times. I’m sure he’d be a good distraction,” Daphne said with a grin. “I bet if anyone could make you forget about Tristan for a while, it would be Xavier.”

I wrinkled my nose at her implication. That was her brother she was talking about. Did the girl have no shame? Apparently not.

“Just think about it,” she urged.

The sound of heavy footfalls on the staircase saved me from answering.

Daphne flipped her hair over her shoulder as she craned her neck. When Levi came into view, a flirty smile settled onto her face.

“Hey there!” she called.

He stopped at the foot of the stairs and peeked into the parlor. “Hello, girls,” he said with a polite nod. He was dressed in his typical casual attire. A thick, leather bound book was tucked under his arm. His bicep bulged as he cradled the tome close to his body. Dozens of loose pages peeked out from the edges. I assumed that it was his research. I was dying of curiosity, wondering what it was that he was looking into. I also knew it was none of my business.

“Are you heading out?” Daphne asked, though it was obvious that he was.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “I’m heading into town.”

She rose to her feet. Her long legs unfurled, sending her to her full height. She sauntered toward the door. “Would you mind if I tagged along? I don’t think Fin is quite ready to leave. I’m supposed to meet my brother at The Rush in a little bit. Unless it’s too much trouble…?”

She’d closed the distance between them. Though she had her back to me, I knew from past experience that she was giving him the flirty eyes and her
Do you really want to resist me?
smile.

Finola raised an eyebrow at me. That was the first that either of us had heard that she needed to meet up with Xavier. For just a moment I was annoyed at my friend. Mom would not approve of her asking a guest for a ride. That was beyond unprofessional and Daphne knew better.

Maybe it was excusable, just this once, because he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed flattered. His gaze slid over her and I couldn’t really blame him. The way Daphne was standing was sending a signal that was a clear invitation.

Levi’s lips tipped into a grin. “It’s not a problem at all. Do you need a few minutes, or are you ready to go?”

“I’m ready to go,” she declared. “Just let me grab my purse.”

Levi nodded his head toward me in a silent goodbye. I gave him a little finger wave. He disappeared as he headed toward the front door.

Daphne darted back into the room. Her face was lit up with a smile.

“You’re incorrigible,” I teased. “And you’re just lucky that my mom isn’t home.”

“I’m not incorrigible,” she denied as she scooped up her purse. “I’m just not afraid to take action, unlike some people.” She pointed a finger at me. Finola laughed until Daphne swung her finger toward her next. “Both of you could learn a thing or two from me.”

We heard a car door slam. “Oh, gotta run. Can’t keep him waiting,” Daphne sang as she sashayed out of the room.

The moment the front door closed, Finola turned to me.

“So he’s why she had that dreamy look on her face all day,” I said.

“Guess so,” Finola agreed. She frowned. “Do you think it’s okay that she left with him? I mean, is it…safe?”

I nodded. “I’m sure it’s fine. He seems nice. And really, do you think we could’ve stopped her?”

She sighed but still didn’t look at ease. “I suppose not. He just seems so…old.”

“He’s not
that
old,” I argued.

“Do you think it’s going to go anywhere?” Finola asked.

I shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I mean, it’s not like he’s going to be in town for too long.”

“When’s he leaving?”

“I’m not sure. He extended his stay for another week. But he said depending on how things go, he may stay longer.”

She straightened out again. “What is it that he’s doing here?”

“Research.”

“What kind?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea. Mom thinks it’s rude to ask.”

She collapsed back into the wingback chair. “You know I don’t say this often, or ever,” Finola corrected, “but I think maybe Daphne is right.”

“You think I should go out with Xavier? You know what he’s like,” I pointed out.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think she’s right about that. I think she’s right about Tristan. If you’re not going to tell him how you feel, move on. Maybe with Xavier, maybe with someone else.”

“And if I do tell him, and I find out he doesn’t think of me that way at all?” My heart started racing at the very thought, as if it too, wanted to run from the very idea of pouring my heart out to Tristan.

“At least you’d know and you wouldn’t always wonder. What do you have to lose?”

“His friendship,” I said with a sigh. “I have a feeling that nothing could ruin a friendship faster than saying ‘I love you’.”

Finola leaned forward in her chair. “
Love
?”

Embarrassment heated my cheeks. “You know what I mean. It’s just a figure of speech or something.”

“Uh-huh,” she said unconvinced.

Silence filled the room for several long, long minutes. I knew Finola was trying to wait me out, trying to force me to say something more. Finally, I did.

“Seriously, Fin, what if he doesn’t feel the same way? He’s never given me any indication that he does.”

“You’ve never given him any indication either. But if he doesn’t,” she said sympathetically, “then Xavier might make the perfect rebound.”

“Why’s that?”

She grinned at me. “Because that boy loves himself too much to care if the girl he’s dating doesn’t even like him back.”

~*~*~

The next morning I sat in my car, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel. Usually Tristan came barreling out of the house. Not today. I was starting to wonder if maybe he didn’t want to ride with me. I hadn’t talked to him last night.

I had contemplated not stopping to pick him up because I wasn’t sure just how mad he was. But I didn’t want to make a bad situation even worse. Besides, I needed to at least try to smooth things over. What I’d done was very wrong and I knew it.

I let out a little sigh of relief when the front door swung open. Tristan’s large frame appeared but he didn’t fully emerge. It was obvious he was talking to Cecily. Finally, he moved out of the doorway and headed my direction.

He didn’t look up as he trudged to my car.

His door swung open, he tossed his backpack onto the floor. Then he dropped into the passenger seat without a word.

“Good morning,” I finally said after I’d pulled out of his driveway.

“Mornin’,” he returned.

We rode in awkward silence for the second morning in a row. By the time we were halfway to school I couldn’t take it anymore.

“How did studying go?” I wanted to ease my way into an apology. I thought that was the best way to start.

“Fine,” he said curtly.

I hadn’t really expected him to elaborate.

“About yesterday…” I started. Last night, I’d worked out an apology. But now that I was sitting next to Tristan, and he was still so obviously mad at me, the words evaded me. When I didn’t immediately continue, he scoffed at me.

“Were you jealous?” he asked skeptically.

A prickle of panic coursed through my body. Was I that obvious?

“Because if you’re jealous, that’s just stupid. I know you’ve been my only friend for a really long time. But I’m allowed to have other friends,” he said.

“I know that,” I assured him. He thought I was jealous because he’d made a new friend? I wasn’t going to argue with him. I was just going to go with it.

“
You
have other friends,” he accused. “I’ve never treated them badly.”

“I know. I’m sorry about yesterday. I am truly, truly sorry,” I said, hoping my tone said as much as my words did. “I was completely out of line.”

“You were,” he agreed.

His tone was still crisp. I realized then that I’d expected him to forgive me right away. Maybe I should’ve realized it wouldn’t be that easy. Tristan didn’t like it when I turned the page of my notebook with magic. Of course he was going to hate that I zapped his new friend with magic.

“Please don’t stay mad at me,” I quietly pleaded. “I hate when you’re mad at me.”

“I’ve never been mad at you before,” he pointed out.

“I know,” I agreed. “That’s why it sucks so much right now. I already told you I was wrong. I told you I was sorry. I meant it. It’ll never happen again.”

I didn’t think he was going to say anything else. When he spoke again, his words took me by surprise.

“It’s just that I’ve never been good at making friends. Humans don’t like me because I’m not one of them. The Lamia don’t like me because my abilities are so pathetic I might as well be human,” he said. “I don’t fit in anywhere.”

I glanced over at him. He was gazing out the window. We’d never talked about this before. For some reason, all this time I’d naively believed that Tristan didn’t realize that people didn’t like him. I thought he was a loner, in part, because he chose to be. I’d convinced myself that he was happy being a loner.

What a pathetic excuse for a friend I was.

Looking at him now, he seemed miserable. How had I not realized that before?

“You think that’s why you have a hard time making friends?” I asked.

He gave me a look that said it was ridiculous that I had to question it.

“Tristan, I don’t think that’s the problem. Well, maybe it’s part of the problem,” I corrected. “But I think the real issue is that you kind of give the impression you don’t want people to approach you. You’ve always been kind of…standoffish. You come across as so serious. You’ve always got your face tucked away behind a book.”