Hunted (26 page)

I
grabbed some cold cuts, put them between two slices of bread and then
retreated back into my bedroom. It was amazing how much homework you
could get done when you no longer had anyone to talk to or anything
else to do.

It
had taken a while for my bubble of indifference to fully dissipate
after Miss Winters had pulled me aside, but as the last of it started
to disappear a slow, burning rage began filling me up. There was
nothing about this situation that was fair. It was bad enough that I
had to deal with all of the squad's crap when I was at school. Having
it—having them—follow me home was a million times worse.

My
first instinct was to bow out, to spend the night in my room and just
make the best of a bad situation, but I was realizing that I needed
to take a stand or they'd just continue to push. I needed to go out
there and pretend like I was having a good time. I needed to go out
there and flirt with whatever guys showed up. I couldn't change how
the cheerleading team felt about me, but possibly I could start
showing some of the rest of the student body that I wasn't as bad as
they all seemed to think.

I
was still wearing my workout clothes, so I started there. I changed
into a different tank top and some clean shorts, not because I was
trying to compete with Missy when it came to who could be the most
slutty—my shorts weren't anywhere as revealing as hers—but
because I didn't want to come across as a prude.

Some
small part of me thought it was a sad state of affairs when wearing
jeans made you a prude, but it seemed like that was how things worked
now, at least when it came to the kind of party I was suspecting this
was going to end up being.

I
snuck back out to the bathroom and checked my hair before putting on
some mascara and eyeliner. Honestly that was about all of the makeup
that I owned and I wasn't going to borrow any of Cindi's, not as
pissy as she was being lately, but even if I'd had more options I
still probably would have just stuck to the basics. I'd never felt
like putting makeup on was going to make enough of a difference for
the average guy to get past my chubbiness, so I'd never bothered
learning how to apply lots of makeup like Cindi usually did.

Five
minutes later my teeth were brushed and I'd decided that I looked as
good as possible. All that was left was to go out and deal with the
bevy of skanks that I'd heard leave an hour or two ago and then start
trickling back in over the last little while.

It
was obvious that the party hadn't really gotten started yet, there
were only a dozen or so people there, but as I stepped out of the
bathroom someone turned on the music and it was like some kind of
signal had been given.

Lights
started going out and being replaced by strobes or black lights as
couples started dancing or making out depending on how long they'd
been dating. Part of my mind kept up a running commentary about the
stupidity of what I was seeing, but I shoved aside thoughts about the
strobe lights causing us all to get headaches and started towards a
couple of football players who were standing off in a corner of the
living room holding red cups and talking.

The
music was thankfully quiet enough that it was possible to carry on a
conversation with someone as long as you stood really close to them.
That surprised me for a second until I realized that Cindi and the
others were probably keeping the music to a dull roar in an effort to
help make sure that none of the neighbors realized we had a party
going on here.

"Hi,
I'm Adri."

The
bigger one nodded. "Right, the new cheerleader. You're Cindi's
sister, aren't you?"

"Yeah,
what are your names?"

"I'm
Vince and this is Reginald."

Reginald,
the smaller, African American guy, gave me a look that was almost as
smoldering as Tristan usually hit me with.

"The
pleasure is all ours. I've seen you cheering at the games, you're
slamming out there, girl."

It
took me a second to process his compliment. The look threw me for a
bit of a loop. I still wasn't used to guys who were that confident
directing those kinds of looks at me. What was it with the football
team—did they all take classes on how to sweep girls off of
their feet with nothing more than heavy eye contact?

Vince
apparently didn't want to just give up without a fight. "You are
awesome out there. You're a year older than Cindi though, right?"

"Yeah,
I'm a junior."

"Why
didn't you try out last year or the year before? You're good enough
and hot enough you would have totally made it onto the team."

"They
wouldn't have wanted me back then. I…well, I lost a bunch of
weight recently."

Vince's
smile hadn't been quite as impressive as Reginald's but it lost most
of its brilliance as he realized what I'd just said.
Once a
porker, always a porker.
Maybe that wasn't exactly what he was
thinking, but I was pretty sure it was close.

Things
had already gotten awkward, but before they could get more awkward
someone put their arm around my waist. I could only think of one
person who would display such easy familiarity and I turned to smile
at Jackson in relief that he'd been able to come after all. Only it
wasn't Jackson.

Tristan
started to return my smile, but stopped when I frowned at him.

"I
liked it better when you were happy to see me."

I
stepped away from him, moving his arm away from my body, but he
followed—not too aggressively, but enough so that I knew he was
going to be harder than normal to discourage.

"I
wasn't excited to see
you
, I thought you were someone else."

"Jackson,
right? What is it about that freak show that draws you in so much?"

"He's
not a freak show, but for starters he doesn't throw himself at me
like a drunken idiot."

Tristan
smiled, but it was just a happy smile rather than something designed
to turn me into a little puddle at his feet. "Just because he
doesn't know how to have fun doesn't make him better boyfriend
material than me."

He'd
completely missed the point, but until then I hadn't realized that
he'd been drinking. As he got closer to me again I could smell it on
his breath and I winced a little. I had zero experience dealing with
drunk people, but I had a suspicion that Tristan was going to be even
more difficult drunk than he was sober.

"Tristan,
please give me a little space."

"I
could do that, but I have an even better idea. Let's go find
somewhere private and talk about us."

He'd
pretty much backed me into a corner. I looked over at Vince and
Reginald, hoping that they'd come help me, but it was like I didn't
even exist now. They were busy talking to each other and very
carefully not looking over at Tristan and me.

"There
is no us, Tristan."

"I
know you keep saying that, but we could be incredible together. You
don't know how to deal with all of the crap that comes with being in
the popular crowd, but I do."

His
face was only a couple of inches away from me, but I shook my head,
carefully so as not to make him think I was trying for a kiss or
something.

"I
don't want to be part of the popular crowd; I just want to be left
alone."

He
leaned in even closer so that he could whisper in my ear. "That's
too bad, because you're already part of the popular crowd despite how
hard they are trying to keep you out. You're a cheerleader and you're
hot, that automatically puts you in. You're lucky though because I
want you for my girlfriend. You're not bitchy like the rest of the
girls on the squad. I've had enough of that to last me a lifetime."

It
was more insight than I expected out of Tristan, and I mentally moved
him up a couple of ranks. He was probably still a jerk, but the mere
fact that he'd decided not to let Missy and her friends be mean to
him was a plus. There didn't seem to be many guys who could walk away
from a hot girl regardless of how badly they were being treated.

The
sheer shock of finding out that he was more than just a pretty face
and a strong arm set me back enough that I didn't have an immediate
response. I never got to find out what I ultimately would have said
because a flicker of movement pulled my head around so that I could
see past Tristan.

I
was just in time to see Cindi walk up and pull Tristan back away from
me. I opened my mouth to thank her, but she slapped the side of my
face before I could get the words out. My ears were ringing badly enough
that I missed the first part of what she said.

"…stupid
whore! Is there anything you won't try to take from me? You're a fat
cow and I'll hate you forever."

Cindi
stormed off towards our bedroom and Tristan grabbed my arm, stopping
me from following her.

"Let
me go! This is your fault."

Tristan
shook his head and pulled me in close again despite the fact that I
was pushing on his chest with all of my might.

"I
told you I could find out who pranked you. Don't you want to know who
it was?"

"I'm
only going to tell you this once. Let me go right now so I can go try
to explain stuff to Cindi."

"What
if Cindi was involved in ruining your hair?"

The
question hit me with nearly as much force as Cindi's slap from a few
seconds earlier. I looked at Tristan, trying to determine whether or
not he was telling the truth, but I couldn't seem to get past the
fact that he no longer looked drunk.

The
girl who'd stolen my phone had told me he was dangerous, but somehow
I'd thought I'd be safe as long as I wasn't alone around him. Looking
at him now I wasn't so sure of that.

"Was
she?"

"She
didn't spray the dye on you if that's what you're asking, but she
knew about it and didn't even try to stop them."

"Who
sprayed me?"

"Missy
and Wendy, but everyone else on the squad other than Sheree knew.
They figured that she wouldn't be able to keep her mouth shut if they
told her."

"Why
are you telling me this?"

He
looked at me for several seconds before responding. "I don't
like bullies, but I really don't like people who pretend to be your
friend and then stab you in the back."

My
mind was spinning too fast to make sense of everything that I'd just
heard, but I suddenly wasn't so sure that I wanted to go and try to
smooth things over with Cindi.

"Do
you still want me to let you go? Are you still going to go tell Cindi
that you're sorry?"

"Yes
to the first question, and I don't know about the second part."

Tristan
released my wrists and then stepped back slightly so that I could get
around him. "What are you going to go do now?"

"I'm
not sure, I guess I'll just try to keep this party from boiling over
into something that gets me into trouble."

Tristan
nodded. "That makes sense. How can I help?"

"I'm
going to go sit in the kitchen to make sure that nobody goes down
into the basement and messes with my mom's photography gear. Whatever
you can do to help out in the living room would be awesome"

"That's
smart, otherwise someone will probably sneak down there to…well,
you know, for some privacy."

"Yeah,
I know. If you can just try to keep people from breaking things or
getting too loud that would be awesome. Also make sure nobody
crashes."

"Sure,
I can have a couple of the guys help me take care of that. Would you
rather I just shut the party down instead?"

"Actually,
yeah, that would be even better, except if I did that I'm not sure
that Cindi would ever forgive me."

Tristan
shrugged. "Okay, I can respect that. I think you're giving her
way too much credit, but I can respect that. You realize that you're
going to owe me one after this, right?"

I
nodded. I knew he was going to want something in return, but I still
didn't even know if he was safe to be around, let alone if he was the
kind of guy that I'd be willing to date.

The
appearance of the sunflowers at the last away game had distracted me
from the crazy girl's warning, but I hadn't forgotten about it. My
number one problem was still figuring out a way to throw the old man
off of my scent, but I still had to keep in mind the fact that
Tristan was more dangerous than he seemed.

Maybe
the girl I'd saved really was crazy, but I couldn't take that chance.
I needed to find a way out of all of this, but I had to do it without
Tristan, the old man, or anyone else realizing that I was on to all
of them.

To
say that I spent the next few hours in a state of misery would have
been a profound understatement. Tristan was as good as his word,
keeping at least one fight from starting and generally stopping
things from getting out of hand.

A
little after 3 a.m. he told me the party had been going long enough.
I wasn't sure he was right until he took my hand and pulled me to the
doorway between the kitchen and the living room. I'd never seen so
many people passed out in one place before. It was hard to tell how
many of them had had too much to drink and how many of them had just
fallen asleep because it was so late, but Tristan was a pro at
getting people to their feet and sorted out. He sent the drunk girls
home with other members of the cheer squad who were less drunk and
then he and a few of the other guys from the team started hauling
their teammates outside.

By
the time 4 a.m. finally arrived, the house was empty except for Cindi
and me. I looked around at the mess in the living room and the
disaster in the family room and decided to just go sleep in my
parents' room.

It
was a good plan except for the fact that Cindi had locked their door
and I didn't have any idea where she'd put the key. I stood outside
of the door to our bedroom for a couple of minutes before deciding
that regardless of how big of a fight it provoked with Cindi, I
wasn't going to be sleeping anywhere other than my own bed.