The Lost Boys (31 page)

“Oh my God! Look at you!” I squealed when I turned to look at them. “You all look amazing, and so handsome in your suits!” I said, taking a step back to get a good look. They stared back at me, wicked smiles on their lips.

The Lost Boys were all wearing dark suits, with different shirt colors. Josh was the most tidy of them, with his buttoned suit, white shirt and tie, and formal shoes. Sammy wasn’t wearing a tie, and had discarded his jacket already. Harry was also jacketless and the only one wearing sneakers. He was wearing a dark-red shirt that matched his hair, and black formal trousers. He had already rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, in a very sexy, casual look. They were all still staring really hard at me. Especially around the cleavage area. Boys.

“So, can I have your word that I’ll get a dance with each one of you tonight?” I asked, hugging them each in turn.

“Only if I’m the first, and only if it’s right now!” Harry said, linking his arm through mine and pulling me to the dance floor.

“What? Like right now?” I asked.

“Yeah, right now! Do you have something else to do?” he said, smiling at me. “If I don’t grab you now, I will never have a chance later. I’ll have to fight for you with all the other guys in here!”

“But … but Harry, what about your date? Don’t you have to ask her first, or something?”

“Why? I’m not married to her! And all my babes know
my band mates
come first,” he said, pulling me closer to him. It was a slow dance. “After all, I’ve already ditched her once tonight to dance with Josh!
My band
is always priority number one,” he said, winking playfully.

“
Your band
. Right,” I said, chuckling quietly at Harry considering me the same as Josh.

I danced with Harry for two dances, a slow one and a fast one, and then it was Sam’s turn, followed by Josh. My Lost Boys were amazing! All my worries disappeared when I was around them. I was having a great time, but still Tristan was constantly in my thoughts, even while I danced with my friends.

After a whole lot of dancing, I called a break and tried to find a chair to sit and rest for a while, but someone pulled my arm, making me stumble back to the dance floor. “Hey, don’t I get a dance too?” Seth said, smiling kindly at me as he wrapped his arm around my waist. “I heard all band members had a chance of dancing with you tonight.”

“Of course! Did you get permission from your date?” I asked playfully.

He laughed loudly. “Actually, yes I did,” he said, nodding in Tiff’s direction. “I have complete permission on the Worthington front.”

We danced a fast number and then the music ended, and a slow one began right on sequence. Seth glanced quickly around the room, then twirled me around the dance floor yet again. “Just one more dance, and I’ll let you go,” he promised. He had a devious look playing in his hazel eyes. We had been slow dancing for only a minute or so, when Tiffany bumped into us, hard.

“Oops! I’m so sorry, guys!” she said, beaming. She also had a glint in her eyes. “Gosh, I hope I’m not intruding, but I need to talk to Seth urgently.” It was then that I noticed her dance partner – Tristan! “Here, Tristan, why don’t you continue this dance with Joey while I talk to Seth. It’s very important! I’ll see you guys later!” she said, pushing him forward, while Seth gave me a slight nudge forward too. I stumbled and fell towards a surprised Tristan, my hands outstretched against his big chest.

I stared at him, wide-eyed. He looked so incredibly handsome in a black tailored suit and black tie. All words escaped me. I was still leaning against him, hands over his chest. Then I remembered he was mad at me, and pulled my hands away from him, taking a defensive step backwards. He was looking away, frowning at Tiffany and Seth’s retreating backs, but then he finally turned back to me.

He looked surprised for a moment, and then admiration flashed in his eyes, the blank stare gone.

“So. I think we should be dancing?” he said quietly, his gaze roaming over me before slowly ascending to look deeply into my eyes. He seemed to have forgotten our fight momentarily, because his eyes burned with desire.

“Sure. If you want to,” I mumbled, feeling heat spread over my face. He took a step forward and placed his hands lightly on my waist, while I rested my hands on his shoulders.

“Seth came to our room to tell me that I needed to come to the ball, or else Tiffany would be really upset with me, you know, for fixing me up with this suit for nothing,” he said in a low voice, shaking his head as he finally understood the set-up. “Did you have anything to do with that?”

“No! Of course not! I had no idea what they were up to!” I said, affronted at his accusation.

We both tensed up, remembering the harsh exchange of words from days ago.

Then he started dancing with me and, once again, worry and doubt marked his face in turn. He looked guilty, like he wasn’t supposed to be doing this. But the longing was too strong and he was losing the fight. I was afraid he might leave at any minute now, but he continued moving and I followed his lead. We were the only ones on the floor dancing in an old-fashioned waltz to the slow dance, but he didn’t seem to notice, or to care.

“You look beautiful,” he said quietly, almost as if talking to himself.

“Thank you,” I whispered back.

The song talked about love and addiction, about people getting under each other’s skin. It was as if the lyrics were speaking directly to us. They spoke of lovers reuiniting, about how words can cut you deep inside, and how silence can be even worse, and haunt you for ever.

We continued dancing so slowly, and everything else around us seemed to melt away, fading from sight. I no longer cared that everyone thought we were supposed to be siblings. There was only him and me on that dance floor, our eyes locked; only his body close to mine, his smell intoxicating me. Only his face leaning close, his jaw brushing so lightly against my cheek, his warm breath touching my neck, teasing me, torturing me, making me shiver in joy.

The music ended and Tristan remained pressed against me, really close for a few more seconds, like he was resisting waking up from a dream, but then he slowly pulled away, standing still and breathless in the middle of the dance floor, his eyes filled with regret. “We shouldn’t have done this. I have to go,” he said hoarsely, forcing his voice to be emotionless and cold again. He turned around and left me there, alone on the dance floor.

It took me a few seconds to realize that he had left, and then I blinked quickly, snapping out of my stupor. I ran, following his steps like a prince in a fairytale. “Tristan, stop!” I yelled at him, catching him up outside the ballroom doors. How could he just leave me there? After he’d danced with me like that; after he had looked at me the way he had? How could he say we shouldn’t be together, pretend he didn’t care about me? Who was the big liar now?

I grabbed his arm, making him turn around to face me.

“Joe, what do you think you are doing?” he growled, yanking his arm from my grasp, as if my touch could burn him.

“Why are you acting this way?” I yelled at him. I looked around and cursed under my breath. People were starting to glance curiously in our direction. I was making a scene. We needed a place to talk. A private place. I grabbed his arm again and pulled him outside with me to the school grounds.

A few minutes later we entered the small terrace that Harry had once shown me. Yellow light poured softly onto the stone floor, spilling from windows in the building above us. I shut the small iron door behind Tristan.

“We can talk freely here, without worrying that anyone will hear us,” I said, turning to look at him.

He shrugged his shoulders, his face masked with a blank expression, like he didn’t care if anyone heard us or not. “We don’t have anything to talk about. I don’t see why we had to come all this way for nothing …”

“Yes, we do have to talk, Tristan!” I huffed, stamping my foot. “You can’t keep treating me like this! I’ve already told you I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that my nightmares had continued! I didn’t want to worry you, that’s all!”

“Look, Joe. This is all very simple. You lied to me. You said they’d stopped. It’s very clear you don’t trust me. So let’s stop pretending, okay?
This
is never going to work!
We
are never going to work! Why don’t you get that?” he blurted out, passing his hand over his head, frustrated.

“We are never going to work just because I didn’t tell you about my dreams? That doesn’t make any sense!” I snapped, getting even more frustrated than he looked.

“Yes. We’re not meant to be together!” he said, stepping closer. “I didn’t want to say it like this, but you’ve given me no choice!” he said, losing his temper and then he let out a long sigh. “Let’s just … go back to the way we used to be, you know, just being friends. Pretend you are my sister, I’m your brother, and we’re good friends. Let’s stay that way.”

“You don’t mean that,” I said, dropping my arms to my side. “I know you don’t mean that, Tris! Why else were you dancing that way with me, if you truly didn’t want anything to do with me?”

He stuck his hands into his pockets, in a defensive stance. “That was a mistake. It won’t happen again. It was just … the spell talking, and I was caught up in the moment, that’s all. It didn’t mean anything.” He looked anywhere but at me.

He was only a few feet away from me. I walked slowly towards him, my voice shaky with tension. “Tris, please … Just look me in the eyes and say that again, and mean it. I know you can’t, I know that’s not what you want,” I pleaded.

He snapped his eyes open, staring fiercely at me. “Look you in the eyes? So you can see if I’m telling you the truth, Joe? Is that it?” he spat out in fury. He stared at me and we both knew then that I could see everything he was feeling. He felt cheated, betrayed, robbed from his private feelings. “I wish I had this little ability of yours, so I would’ve known a long time ago how big of a liar
you
really are! Do you want to know if I’m lying to you right now? Take a good look!
We cannot be together!
Can you see if I really mean it?” He stepped closer, stopping an inch away from my face. His anger caused me to step backwards, flinching until I was stopped by the iron door behind me. I looked into his eyes, and saw that he really meant it. Every word he had said. He thought we shouldn’t be together.

Tears filled my eyes, threatening to fall. “So you never wanted to be with me? Why did you make me believe that you cared?” I asked shakily. I could feel a single tear streaking down my cheek, and I hated that I couldn’t stop it from falling. I didn’t want to cry. Not like this. Not right now. Not in front of him.

His eyes were still locked with mine when I asked him one more time. “Why did you let me love you?” I whispered, so sadly that I could feel the frail question breaking his heart and my own at the same time.

His gray eyes shone furiously with pain. “I didn’t
let you
do anything. You did it all on your own,” he said coldly.

“You shouldn’t have let things escalate to this, Joey,” he said, and looked away, his voice turning a little softer, like he regretted saying it, or regretted acknowledging this fact. “It’s best that we stop this right now, don’t let it go further than already has. I just don’t feel the same about you,” he said quietly, his voice too stern.

“The way you danced with me in that ballroom wasn’t like someone who doesn’t care,” I said through clenched teeth. I had seen the passion in his eyes while we danced. I had felt it.

“Why do you keep insisting on this?” he pleaded, lowering his head in anguish.

“Because you’re hiding something.” His eyes flickered at me for a second, but he soon averted his gaze as if mine scorched through him.

But before he did I saw fear, despair and one thing that puzzled me. At first. I thought it was only my own emotion reflecting in his gray eyes. Then I knew. It was his emotion. Buried deep inside, covered by the all the pain. I saw love.

“You are lying. I can see it. You care. More than that,” I affirmed to myself, but he heard me because he was too close to me. Anger came back into his eyes, taking over all his face, filling up his bright eyes in a piercing, dangerous stare.

He grabbed my wrists tight and pushed me back against the iron door. I was so shocked that I couldn’t react; I couldn’t say anything. I never thought he would be capable of hurting me like this. With all my training, all my hours of martial arts, I felt so impotent now, unable to react. Because it came from someone I’d never expect to do that. From the boy I loved.

“You’ve always been able to read me just by looking at me, haven’t you? You lied to me all this time – and you accuse me of being a liar? Can’t you see? There is no trust here. There is no future for us. How can you think this could ever work?” he said desperately, still holding me.

“Tris! P-please …” I whimpered. He would hate me for ever now that he knew I could always read him. I could always see the truth in his eyes.

His eyes glistened with betrayal and hurt and unshed tears. The sight of his pain took all the fight out of me. “I’m s-so so sorry I lied … I never meant to hurt you,” I whispered as I sobbed. “I love you.”

His eyes searched desperately for something inside of mine, too many emotions flickering on his face. I couldn’t read him any more; it was too much to process, too fast, too intense, too overwhelming, too painful. Before I could say anything else, he crushed my lips with his, taking me completely by surprise. I was shocked by the urgency with which his mouth claimed mine. For a second I was frozen with the shock, but then my body reacted; the sensation of his kiss was uncanny and I gave in to it, and him.

I tasted his hungry lips, his need, his longing; I could feel his desire in the palm of his hands, searching me, his whole body pressing hard against me, grabbing and touching, pushing me up hard against the door, making my skin hot with pinpricks of energy wherever his hands touched me. It was nothing like our first kiss, that almost chaste, soft and tender kiss of long ago. Tonight he was kissing me like he was a drowning man and I was his last chance of air. Like it was our last time. It was a desperate, hopeless kiss.