Tristan
The new Charmers spring practice schedule was killing me.
Starting in February, for the next two and a half months, it seemed like the Charmers intended to eat, sleep and breathe preparations in the school auditorium for the team's annual Spring Show. In addition to their regular morning practices, afternoon practices had been extended from six to seven o'clock every evening, plus Saturday practices.
Savannah had put me on the stage crew with the other escorts and team dads. Unfortunately, they also took volunteers, including Dylan Williams this year. He was dating one of the Brat Twins, and no descendants were Charmers. So he must be volunteering either to annoy me or spy on me. Whatever his motives were, I was ready to kill him with my bare hands. And we were still only three weeks into the show preparations.
The jerk was always around, always watching. Every time I started to pull Savannah behind a prop or curtain for a kiss during the after-school practices, Dylan popped up with some request for help or a question for her. At least I still had the mornings with her, though.
Right now, that was all we had, since the spring weather was so crappy I hadn't been able to sleep outside in order to dream connect. Even morning practices didn't give us many chances to be alone together, because she worked mostly backstage on the sound and lights while I was outside or in the gym helping build and paint sets. And every time I caught her upstairs in the mornings, either an officer or a manager was in the nearby costume closet.
We couldn't even risk dinner dates after practice anymore, because everyone started working in separate groups for the show's dance numbers, and they all left at different times.
Between the new practice schedule, the stormy weather and Dylan's spying eyes, my time with Savannah had been reduced to the ten short minutes we had alone together each morning before practice began.
I was slowly going insane.
Maybe if I'd never kissed her, held her, spent countless hours talking with her, our forced separation wouldn't be so bad. But I had, I was crazy about her, and...
And I flat-out missed her.
It was a Friday night. Everyone was gone. If not for her worries that we would be seen together, I'd have taken her out of town for a late dinner before now. I would have to find a way to change her mind about it tonight. After three weeks of practically no alone time together, she had to be going as crazy as I was.
Almost time to lock up for the evening. Finally. I checked the costume closet, turned off the dance-room lights and closed the doors. One less room for Savannah to have to shut down so we could leave quicker. I already knew where to take her to eat.
I headed down to the stage to collect the sound system, waiting as Savannah gathered up CDs and threw the stage's breakers. In the darkness broken only by her flashlight, the urge to kiss her nearly overpowered me. But I'd wait a little longer. Soon enough, I'd have her snuggled up against my side in my truck and on the way to a quiet, romantic dinner at a real table with real chairs and real food.
And maybe it would be enough to last me another week.
"Did you close up the dance room?" she asked as we reached the office.
"Yeah. Thought I'd save you some time. I think everyone's gone now anyway."
"Thanks." She locked the office closet. Then we stepped out of the room so she could turn off the lights.
As she locked the door, I said, "So listen, I'd really like to take you out tonight. There's this fantastic place about thirty minutes away, very quiet, cozy, good food-"
"Tristan, we can't. You know that." She turned to face me with a sigh.
I tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "This restaurant's small, not as popular with the adults. I doubt we'll see anyone we know."
"You and the Clann know everyone."
"Not everyone. And I'll ask for a corner booth so no one will see us."
"I don't know."
She was wavering; I could see it in her eyes. "Please, Sav? I haven't seen you much for weeks." Smiling, I grabbed her and kissed her at the end of every sentence. "I miss you. I'm dying here. You've reduced me to begging."
"Tristan! Someone might see-"
I backed her toward the prop closet. "No, they won't. Everyone's gone for the night."
Suddenly, I couldn't wait. We could leave in a few minutes. First...
Reaching out blindly, I found the closet doorknob and pulled the door open.
"Savannah," I whispered against her lips as her hands stroked my neck, my shoulders, my chest. "I can't handle this, not seeing you."
"We see each other every day," she gasped.
"You know what I mean."
Backing her into the pitch-black closet, I shut the door behind us then lost myself in our kisses, not caring that I was growing light-headed and my knees threatened to give out. And then they did, but Savannah sank down to her knees with me, so it didn't matter. Nothing mattered as long as she kept kissing me. We were meant to be together. How could she ever doubt this?
A series of flashes broke us apart. My eyes flew open, only to be blinded by more bright bursts of light. A low whir and click followed each strobe. What the...
"Beautiful. Just beautiful," Dylan said in the darkness. "Honestly, I couldn't have staged the scene better myself." His voice circled around us toward the doors.
"Dylan, cut the crap. What are you doing?" I said.
One of the doors cracked open, spilling a bar of light over him. "You know, you almost make it too easy. I hated waiting all these months, but it was worth it. These pics are going to help me get you kicked out of the Clann, and maybe your dad, too. After all..." He smiled at Savannah. "We know how they hate Clann parents who can't control their...kids. And once your dad's gone, guess who'll be taking over?"
Dylan's dad, with Dylan next in line for the role.
Cold fury filled me, chilling me as I struggled to stand. I'd kissed Savannah too long, let her weaken me too much. My legs didn't want to lift me up. "I don't care. I never wanted to lead. And Dad doesn't have to lead the Clann to be more of a man than your entire family line combined."
"Famous last lines from the loser." Dylan ducked out the door and strolled away, camera and evidence in hand.
Great. Dad and Mom were going to be beyond ticked off this time. Using the wall, I staggered to my feet, Savannah helping at my side.
Then we heard Dylan's voice taunting from the top of the stairs. "I bet Savannah's family is going to love these pics. Should be some good ones for Grandma's scrapbook, don't you think?" He laughed, the sound echoing in the stairwell now.
She gasped. "Mom and Nanna...they're going to kill me."
Oh, hell. I had to get that camera. At least without it, it would be Dylan's word against ours. Shoving the closet door open, I stumbled out to the hallway then the stairs on legs that didn't want to respond. Dylan was already at the bottom of the stairwell.
I ran down the stairs two at a time, using the handrails on both sides to keep from falling down them instead. Kissing Savannah had taken way too much out of me this time.
But I had to keep going. And Dylan was running now, his sneakers slapping across the foyer linoleum. I pushed my body into a jog. I couldn't let him get out of sight.
He exited through the building doors.
I followed, gathering my will and remaining energy. By the time I got out the door, he was near the end of the cement ramp.
I focused on his back, and the energy burst out of me.
He flew three feet forward and down onto the cement stomach first. He lay there, apparently with the wind knocked out of him, giving me time to close the distance.
He rolled over. "Coleman," he gasped. "You...fight...dirty."
I straddled his chest and punched him across the jaw. As weak as I was, surprise was the only shot I had at winning this fight. "Where's the camera?" I checked his hands and pockets, then the ground around us. There, a few feet away.
Reaching out, I used my will to jerk the camera to me. It rose up then darted through the air straight into my outstretched hand. I flipped the door to the camera's compartment open and yanked out the memory card.
Pain exploded in my mouth and chin, twisting me around, and the card went flying out of my hand and into the grass on the side of the hill somewhere. Dylan hit me again, laying me out flat on my back as he got in two more hits. I had no energy left to fight or move or even lift my arms to block the blows. I had to draw some energy. The grass was only a yard or two from my outstretched hand. But I couldn't roll over to reach it.
He grabbed the camera, dug around in the grass, then looked up at the foyer doors and ran off.
