Antidote

Chapter 8

Alex's p.o.v

After the disastrous day at school, all I want to do is go home and lay down, avoiding everyone's questions. But Tristan has other ideas. As I go to my bedroom after school, the phone rings. I hurry to pick it up. Tristan's voice comes over the wire, and it surprises me so much I almost drop the phone.

When I regain my composure, I say, "Hi." He replys with, "I'm coming over in 5." "Wait!" I cry before he can hang up. "How did you know my phone number and how do you know where I live?" I can almost hear his smile. "I have my ways," he says mysteriously, and ends the call.

***

5 minutes later, Tristan shows up on my doorstep. I open the door and let him in, then wish I hadn't. Because, let's face it, he's never going to like me in the way I like him. And the more time I spend with him, the more I'm going to like him. Why should I go through this unnecessary heartbreak? But, I've already let him in, so it's too late now to tell him no.

He steps through and walks right in like it's his own house. I muster up a smile and say, "Hi." "Hi," he replys. We share an awkward silence before I break it by asking, "So, why are you here?" He reaches up and runs a hand through his tousled hair, something he does when he's nervous. "So, I was wondering, if you uh, might like to, you know, go to a party or something?" he asks. Is this.....is he.....Is Tristan freakin Daniels asking me on a date?

I feel like squealing, but I manage to keep my cool as I reply, with much disappointment, "I can't have alcohol, remember?" He drops his eyes in embarrassment as he mumbles, "Right. The baby." Another awkward silence. I go to the kitchen to make some supper. Mom is working late, so I have to make it. Tristan follows me as I get out the ingredients for spaghetti. I can feel his eyes on me as I fill a pan with water and set it to boil, then put meat and stuff for the sauce in another pan. Suddenly I'm startled by his arms wrapping around my waist.

He puts his chin on top of my head, hugging me from behind. I stiffen at first, but when he doesn't let go, I relax into his embrace. Soon the water begins to boil and I break away from Tristan to bust up the noodles and put them in. He watches as I work, and when I'm finished, he asks, "Wanna play Never Have I Ever? We can use grape juice instead of alcohol." I smile at him and answer, "Sure." I get out two fancy wine glasses and fill them with the grape juice. I give one to him and I take one.

I sit across from Tristan and I start the game. "Never have I ever gotten drunk." Unsurprisingly, he drains his glass. "Never have I ever cheated on someone." Neither of us take a drink for that one. "Never have I ever gotten a tattoo." I say. Tristan gulps his grape juice. "Really? Where?" I ask, curious. I've never seen a tattoo. "On my hip," he replys, and lifts his shirt a bit so I can see what's tattooed there. It's a small sea turtle, with the words, Swim on. I point to it, asking, "Why that one?" I ask. He hesitates for a second, then says, "My sister used to have cancer. She's in remission now, but I got this done while she was on chemo because she loves sea turtles. It's sort of a tribute to her."

"Oh," I say. We're quiet for a few seconds before Tristan says, "Never have I ever fallen in love." He looks right at me as he says it. I don't take a drink.

***

After dinner, Tristan insists on staying. I'm too tired to object, so he's now lounging on the couch while I sit in one of our many overstuffed chairs, trying not to fall asleep. I'm dozing off when Tristan asks, "Hey, are you okay? You look a little pale." "Yeah. Fine," I mumble. In truth, I'm thinking about him. I want to send him away while I still can. This is doing nothing for me. No good. I'm just going to get my heart broke. Yet, he's so comforting. He makes me so happy.

Tristan gets up from the couch and picks me up from the chair. Once again, I'm too weak to object. He puts a cool hand against my forehead, then almost immediately pulls it away like I've burned him. "Fuck," he mutters. "You're burning up." I try to roll my head to see his face, but I can't. Too tired. Too weak. He puts me down on the couch. I whimper, not wanting him to leave. He sprints to the kitchen and returns with some kind of medicine and a wet washcloth. The room is spinning. Wait, why is there two of him? He puts the pills in my mouth and helps me swallow them. Then he puts the washcloth across my forehead. It feels like heaven, it's so cool. The last thing I hear is Tristan mumbling something before I fall asleep.