The Lost Boys (38 page)

“God, Joey! You’re driving me insane here!” he said in a whisper full of despair.

I don’t recall much of what happened after that. I was drowning in Tristan’s arms and I would die of happiness. I could no longer elaborate any form of coherent thought. I could only feel his soft, strong hands on me, everywhere on my body, his heat burning me, the taste of his mouth and his amazing scent suffocating me. I didn’t care about anything else in the world; the only thing I needed was Tristan with me, right there, right then.

I don’t remember when we ended up in my bed, or how we were both naked when we got there – or when it was that Tristan went and got protection from his bedside drawer. All I remember was the weight of his heavy body pressing against mine, leaving no space between us. And then everything was going so fast; he had me scorching beneath his fingertips, so much pleasure under his urgent touch, leaving me burning, breathless and spinning out of control, clutching at him like I was in the middle of a fierce storm and he was my shelter. And then the Earth trembled and shattered all around us.

This sense of peace and completeness overtook me after the ecstasy started to die down. I remembered the fireworks of so long ago, at a dark cemetery, in a midnight black sky. I remembered his hands enclosing mine, and his soft whisper in my ears on that night.
“Don’t be afraid. You’ll be fine.”
And I’d known I would be, because he was with me. He was mine and I was his, for that brief, intense, amazing and scary moment. And now he was mine once again.

Nobody could ever take this away from me. No lies could ever taint it.

I was his and he was mine.

But I could sense his uneasiness as he moved away from me and sat on the edge of the bed, naked, hands covering his face, head hung low. There was still so much despair in him … I couldn’t bear to watch him torturing himself. Before I could reach out to him or say anything, he stood up and put his black sweat pants on. And then he left the room, without saying a word.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Love Lullaby

Yes. He just walked out. I often wondered about that moment, later on in my life. What if I had never followed him that night? What if I had stayed in that room? What would my life have turned out to be then? It’s funny how one single decision can turn our lives around, and make so much difference to our future.

All I knew was that I needed to go after him. The bond we already had from before was now a hundred times intensified after what we had just shared together. I could feel him completely, all his emotions; I could feel his despair for having given in to his need, his undeniable love for me filling every inch of his soul, and the excruciating pain when he thought about losing me.

Maybe if his emotions weren’t flooding over me like a cracked dam, I wouldn’t have followed him. But I had never been more certain about anything in my entire life. He loved me. There was no denying in it. He wouldn’t dare to claim anything else.

So the minute he left, I slipped into my underwear and his T-shirt and rushed out of the room after him. I saw his dark silhouette way ahead, turning downstairs. I couldn’t just shout because I would wake up the entire floor, but I ran as lightly and silently as I could, trying to reach him, but he was freakishly fast! There was a full moon in the sky tonight, so I could see everything quite well, the soft moonlight bathing the grass with its bright glow. I glanced around and the place seemed deserted. I took my chances and shouted at him.

“Tristan! Stop!”

He froze mid-step, and turned slowly to look at me. The look in his eyes confirmed what I was already feeling through our bond. Despair, love, pain … but I also caught something more: surprise and confusion, like someone suddenly waking up from a dream.

“Joey?” he asked in a dazed whisper. I focused hard on his eyes and reached out, trying to capture what he was feeling. There was … a lot of confusion. He was freaking out badly. That’s why he’d just stood up and left the room like that. His protective walls were crumbling down. Recollection passed in his eyes and he seemed to gather his thoughts well enough to remember what had just happened between us. “J-Joe, are you okay?” he whispered, walking closer to me. He looked genuinely concerned. I wanted to make him crack, but not like this! He was seriously worrying me now.

I remembered I was only dressed in his T-shirt when a cold wind swept by us. Tristan was only in his sweat pants, bare-chested and barefoot. I could see goosebumps all over his skin, but he didn’t seem to care. I shivered and crossed my arms over my chest. He knitted his brows even more, worry taking over his whole stance now. He must have taken my shivering as something other than cold.

“I’m so sorry, Joe,” he said gently. “Did … did I hurt you? I couldn’t stop myself … Was it … was it your first …?” He trailed off, unable to continue the question.

I frowned, trying to follow his jumbled train of thought, and then realization dawned. “Oh! No! No, no! I’m all right. It wasn’t my first … time.” I smiled awkwardly at him. I was glad it hadn’t been. It had avoided that whole pain/awkwardness issue. Tom, my first and only boyfriend, had taken care of that. Tonight I had felt nothing but overwhelming pleasure. It wasn’t even fair to compare it with my first time, really.

I heard him sigh in relief and then saw him frown in upset again. “Is it weird that I feel relieved that it wasn’t, and I didn’t hurt you? And awful at the same time because now I keep picturing you and some other guy,” he mumbled, looking down at the grass. “I know I’m being old-fashioned but girls in my day …’

He stopped when he saw my face. “I know it’s a different time now,’ he concluded lamely.

I smiled and took his hands. “Stop being silly, Tris,” I said quietly. “And I mean not just now, but in every possible way. You have been very silly lately.” I was thinking more in terms of “utterly-beyond-reason stupid”, but I thought it wasn’t the time for bluntness right now. He was already in a shaky condition as it was.

The soft tingling sensation flowed between our interlaced fingers. He stared down at our hands, wonder and sorrow filling his eyes, making them bright with tears. “Tris, you do realize you just stood up and left me there,” I said cautiously.

“I-I … did? I’m so sorry,” he whispered, as if he was tired to the bones of fighting his feelings. “I can’t stand this, Joey, not after what happened tonight. I can’t lie to you any more, not after this,” he said, letting go of my hands and kneeling in front of me, his head hung low, defeated to his core.

I kneeled down in front of him, real close, putting my hand over his heart. His skin burned beneath my fingers. “So don’t,” I said softly.

I wished I could take all his pain away with my bare hands, plunge inside his heart and pull it all out, free him from his suffering. I wished it with all my heart.

He tensed up again, and looked at me, a little startled, and then he put his hand over mine, over his heart, and nodded. “I know. I can feel it,” he whispered. He could feel the bond between us, all the emotions I was feeling. His bright gray eyes sparkled with tears. “I don’t want us to be only friends. I never did,” he confessed. I wondered if he would tell me his secret now. He stared at me for a long time in silence, before he dared to speak again.

“You already know.” It was a statement, not a question. “How did you find out?” he said in a shaky, low voice. He was talking about his secret.

I sighed heavily and smiled at him. “You told me, Tris,” I said, and watched his eyes widen in surprise. “When you had that high fever, on the first day of the month. You were sort of … delirious. You told me everything then.”

“But-but, it can’t be … I don’t remember saying anything,” he muttered to himself.

“You told me about New Year, and you also told me about your fear of clowns,” I said, trying to make my point.

He tensed and looked at me suspiciously. “Nobody knows about that,” he whispered in fright.

“Yeah, well … it’s no big deal. Everybody has their fears. I’m afraid of ghosts,” I said, shrugging.

He eyed me in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Ghosts?”

“Ironic, right?” I chuckled.

“So you knew I was lying. That’s why you have been acting so weird these past few days,” he stated. “You were trying to … punish me?” There wasn’t a trace of condemnation in his voice. He thought he deserved it. I could see it in his eyes. He thought everything that was happening was his fault. He was the one that had closed the spell bond that night at the cemetery. He had brought this on us.

“Not punish. I was only trying to force you, you know, to tell me the truth. That’s all,” I said, looking him in the eyes. He wasn’t avoiding looking at me any more. He wasn’t trying to hide anything from me any more.

“But you knew the truth already,” he said, confused.

“I needed you to tell me yourself. I needed you to confess so you’ll stop pushing me away. Stop this
stupid
act of yours.” I put fierce emphasis on the “stupid” part.

I watched his face contort in pain again. “I … I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do … I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen,” he said, emotion catching his voice. “I was just trying to protect you from hurting more because of me. If we remained just friends, you wouldn’t hurt as much when …” And he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

My hand was over his chest, and I could feel the shocking force of his sorrow through my fingers, the intensity of his torment. It made my heart whimper. I leaned in and held him in my arms protectively. “I know, Tris. Please … everything will be all right now,” I said quietly in his ear.

“No, it won’t. Miss Violet came and told me everything she’d managed to uncover. The only thing keeping this Vigil guy away from me is you. And also this,” he said, pointing to his beaded wristband. “Our magic bond gives you power to guard me. But once the year is over, the bond will vanish and you won’t be able to save me. My time – my extra time – on Earth will be up. Vigil will get to me, then, magic amulet or not.” His voice was strained and sad.

“Look, I’ve been thinking about this deadline since I found out. I can help you, Tris. I know I can!”

He shook his head, not accepting my wishful thinking. “Joey … it’s not that easy.”

“I didn’t say it’s going to be easy. I’m saying it can be done. You can’t lose faith so fast! I can hurt him,” I told him firmly, and he glanced up, suspicion and surprise in his eyes. “I can hurt Vigil. He wasn’t expecting it either – he was as surprised as you are right now – but I have hurt him once, in one of my dreams. I know I can do it again. Maybe I can get rid of him somehow. It is worth a shot. There’s a lot we can try before you think of giving up, Tris.”

“You … you really think so?” he asked quietly, his voice still full of doubt, but also with a trace of hope.

“I know so,” I said with conviction. “We could have been working on it already, if you hadn’t been acting like a fool all this time, pushing me away from your life, pretending that I meant nothing to you,” I said reproachfully. “Besides, it’s too late for us to be ‘just friends’. You can’t protect me from what I feel about you. It won’t change what I feel about you.”

He glanced down, so much sadness marking his face. “I was just trying to protect you from hurting, but I have been hurting you all along with this, haven’t I?” he murmured.

“Yes,” I answered truthfully. There was no way to sugarcoat this answer.

“I thought you were going to get over me fast … and forget all about me.”

I cupped his face and tilted it up so I could look him straight in the eyes. “There’s no getting over you. I could never forget you. Not in this life. Not in a thousand lifetimes.” I heard an echo in my head; I’d said these words to Tristan once before, back in the cemetery.

He blinked a couple of times, eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so sorry … for all the pain I’ve caused you,” he said, pulling me close and holding me in his arms.

I curled against his chest, basking in the warmth of his embrace.

“You probably wish that you had never met me that day in the cemetery. If you had never got lost there, your life would be so much easier now,” he said, his voice leaden with emotion.

I pushed him hard on the chest. “Don’t ever say that! You are the best thing that has ever happened to me! Can’t you see how amazing you are, how special you are to me? I would never wish for that! Never!” I said angrily. Tears threatened, but I held them in.

He blinked at me, surprised at my angry outburst. But understanding flashed in his eyes and they sparkled with admiration and love. “I’m sorry. You’re right, Joe.” He reached out cautiously to me and I let him pull me back into his arms again. “Please say you forgive me … for everything,” he whispered in my ear.

I nodded silently, and then pulled away to look him in the eyes. “Let’s make a promise now, okay? We always tell the truth to each other, no matter what.”

“No matter what,” he vowed, smiling softly at me.

I hugged him tight again, to seal our vow. “As long as we are together, everything will be fine,” I said in a frail whisper. I grazed my fingers through his hair, and held him tight, feeling the warmth radiating from his body like my own private sun. If only he could feel how badly I loved him right then. If only he could feel …

I heard his soft voice vibrating in the air, thick and charged with emotion, while his face was buried in my neck.

“I love you so much, Joe.”

I smiled against his skin. Third time’s the charm.

“I love you too, Tris,” I whispered back. “So, so, much.”

I could feel him relaxing in my embrace, his pain melting away through my arms, leaving only love behind. “I’ve loved you since the first day I saw you, that bright afternoon at the cemetery. You were the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, all messed up and covered in dirt,” he confessed, chuckling lightly, still with his face buried in my neck. “You had so much life in your eyes, so much light. You glowed like a rising star. I couldn’t believe it when you talked to me that day! It was the happiest day of my life – and my death – the day I met you.” He stroked his hand over my hair. “You stole my heart that day.”