Her words, not mine.
This wasn’t going well.
Desperate to foster some sort of friendship between them, I reached for the first idea that came to my mind.
“Hey, Tristan, did you know Carrie’s going to be a doctor someday?” I said, making my voice loud enough to carry across the table.
Carrie’s eyebrows shot up then dipped into a frown as she wondered what I was up to.
“Oh, yeah?” Tristan turned to her with real interest. “That’s cool. You know, I just learned some interesting stuff from Mrs. Horne today. She was talking about how there are companies out there now making synthetic blood using a process called blood pharming. Have you heard anything about it?”
Mrs. Horne the biology teacher? I silently asked him. When did you talk to her? We all took biology last year.
I ran into her in the hall on the way to your chem class and we got to talking, Tristan silently answered. Then he looked at Carrie again, waiting for her reply.
Carrie blinked several times in shock as she tried to assimilate her previous ideas of Tristan with this conversation starter.
Oh, of course, she thought. He’s just trying to sound smart to impress me. Well, let’s see how long it takes to reveal his real lack of IQ.
Out loud, she said, “Yes, I’ve read a few articles online about that. They’re mainly creating the synthetic blood for use in the military in war zones.”
Tristan nodded. “Because the regular donor blood doesn’t last long enough on the shelf for use in areas far away from hospitals. By the time it reaches the soldiers, it’s already too old and only lasts about a week. Plus there’s that whole problem of getting enough of the more generally accepted O type blood donated.”
“Too bad the synthetic blood requires the use of umbilical cords to make it.” Carrie grimaced.
“How’s that a problem?” Tristan said. “It’s not like they’re using the cells from the actual babies.”
“Yeah, but it’s an issue ripe for misuse,” Carrie snapped. “Think about it. Who’s got a big supply of umbilical cords they’d be too happy to sell off?”
“Hospitals?” Tristan said.
“And abortion clinics,” Carrie said. “I’m all for a woman’s right to choose, but I don’t think anyone should be making money off of that. Abortion clinics would be only too happy to make some side profits by selling a bunch of umbilical cords to DARPA.”
“DARPA?” Michelle asked, her eyebrows drawn in confusion.
“The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency,” Tristan and Carrie explained at the same time.
Carrie stared at him with round eyes, her shock deepening. “DARPA’s funding the research behind the blood pharming. And they’re the ones who’ll probably end up using taxpayer dollars to buy the big old steaming piles of umbilical cords for all the blood pharming.”
Anne made a choking sound and pushed away her chili cheese fries. “I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Me neither,” Ron muttered.
Oh, boy. What the heck had I started? “Um, guys, maybe we should talk about something else—”
But it was too late. Carrie and Tristan were deep into the debate now, and there was no stopping them.
“Why shouldn’t we find a use for something that’s going to be thrown away?” Tristan said.
“Because it comes from dead babies, that’s why!” Carrie said, shaking her long blond bangs out of her furious eyes.
“Not only dead babies. And it’s not like blood pharming is the cause of their deaths,” Tristan said. “What about all the umbilical cords from babies delivered alive? Those get thrown out most of the time, too. Why not reduce the biowaste and help save lives at the same time?”
Carrie rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair with her arms crossed. “If the cords were only obtained from live births, that would be okay. But who’s going to regulate that, especially if demand for synthetic blood skyrockets? Besides, blood pharming costs too much to be worth it. They can only create twenty units of blood from each cord, and it costs something like five thousand dollars to do it. That’s around two hundred and fifty bucks to make each unit, not including whatever fees they work out to pay for the cord itself. If the masses start thinking they don’t need to donate blood anymore because we can all rely on synthetic blood instead, there goes all the donor blood that’s already in short supply. Then we really do end up having to rely solely or even mostly on expensive synthetic blood. Do you have any idea how much health-care costs would shoot through the roof then? A trauma victim can require up to fifty units of blood. And cancer patients make up twenty percent of all blood transfusions given. Can you imagine what their health-care costs would become?”
Of course you can’t, she finished silently, not realizing Tristan and I could both hear her thoughts. Because you’ve never had to worry about money in your entire life!
Whoa. I sat back in my chair with a thump. I had never heard Carrie talk so much.
“The synthetic blood’s only expensive right now because it’s new and nobody’s making it yet,” Tristan said. “Once more companies learn how to create it and ramp up production to meet the demand, the costs will drop and make it more affordable.”
“Oh, so you’re going to rely on the free market’s supply and demand to set the prices and help reduce health-care costs?” Carrie snorted. Why am I not surprised? Typical rich boy, taking zero account for human greed because he’s full of it himself. “I guess you would be pretty excited, seeing how your family owns a biomedical supply company.”
Tristan frowned. “What does that have to do with it?”
“Because obviously you’re all set up to jump on the synthetic blood wagon and make a few billion more off others’ misery for your family,” Carrie said.
Tristan blinked at her in surprise. “To be honest, I didn’t know my family’s company could even do that sort of thing. I thought we only made sterilized containers for medical supplies.”
One of Carrie’s eyebrows arched as she thought, Ha! I knew he was stupid after all.
Out loud she said, “That’s my point. Your company’s facilities are already set up for creating stuff in sterile environments for the medical industry. I doubt it’d be all that hard to add some lab equipment and a few geneticists to start making synthetic blood for public use. Especially when the setup costs would earn out in no time.”
“You really think so?” Tristan asked, his eyebrows raised.
Unable to read his thoughts, Carrie slowly nodded and watched him with narrowed eyes.
“Huh.” He stared off into space for a minute. “It’s an interesting idea. I wonder if Emily’s heard about synthetic blood.”
“Your sister? Why would she care?” Carrie asked. She’d always thought of Emily as a stereotypical dumb blonde cheerleader.
“Because she’s the one destined to take over the family company as soon as she graduates from college,” Tristan answered automatically. She’s the future brains of the family, not me, he thought to himself, forgetting for a moment that I could hear him. “Em’s always been the brains of my family.”
He sounds sad about that, Carrie thought. Like maybe he wished he was as smart as his sister.
She cleared her throat, and when she spoke again, her tone was slightly softer. “You know, intelligence isn’t set at birth. It can be improved with a little applied education. For instance, take a look around you at this table. Almost everyone here was practically f lunking their science courses till I started tutoring them.” She hesitated. “If you ever need any help in that area, by the way, you can always bring your homework here at lunch.” She finished with an attempted half smile.
Surprised by the offer, Tristan smiled back. “Thanks. I may take you up on that. Emily used to help me with my homework, but now that she’s gone off to college…”
“Hey, what am I, chopped liver?” I blurted out with a laugh.
Carrie snickered. “Do not get her help with science unles
s you really do want to f lunk. English is Sav’s forte.”
Michelle nodded, making her short honey-blond hair bounce against the tops of her shoulders. “She brought my C average up to a B+ in English, but she doesn’t know jack about chemistry.”
“No, chemistry’s my area,” Ron argued.
Carrie rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease. Just because you understand the elementary table and throwing together a few chemicals doesn’t mean you get science as a whole.”
“Speaking of,” Michelle interrupted Ron’s planned argument. “Did you hear about what happened last week in chem class with Sally Parker and Terrell Stuart? She found out he was cheating with Christie Permetter and threw some chemicals at him during a lab, and…” And with that, Michelle was off and running and nobody could get another word in for at least five minutes while she filled us in on more JHS gossip.
Until Dylan walked in.
“Aw, look, now there’s a matching pair of them,” he sneered as he walked past.
Tristan scowled and clenched his fists. But he didn’t turn to look at Dylan, which made me proud of him. Maybe I was wrong to be so afraid of his losing control.
Michelle muttered, “I cannot believe he and Bethany Brookes are together. What can she possibly see in that jerk?”
“What?” I blurted out, leaning forward in my chair, sure I’d heard her wrong.
“Oh, yeah, for four months now,” Michelle added, her eyes wide. “Talk about the last couple you’d ever think would get together. But she seems to like him for some reason.”
So that was why she didn’t want to welcome me back. She was dating my boyfriend’s former best friend turned archnemesis now and was probably embarrassed about it or something.
But…Bethany Brookes and Dylan Williams? The idea just did not compute. She was so sweet and nice, and he was so… well, not. Was she dating him just to get back at Tristan for leading her on all last summer and this fall?
Tristan twisted in his chair and looked across the cafeteria. Sure enough, Dylan had just dragged a chair over by Bethany, turned it backward with a noisy dragging of metal legs across the linoleum f loor, then straddled it. As we watched, he glanced our way, grinned, then leaned over and gave Bethany a kiss on the cheek that made her blush and lean toward him.
A single second of growling was all the warning I got. Next thing I knew, Tristan was gone. He reappeared across the cafeteria, where he held Dylan against the cylindershaped room’s curved brown brick wall.
Oh, crap.
CHAPTER 6
I jumped to my feet and tried to remember to move human slow as I wove in between the tables to get to them. “You son of a—” Tristan began.
Dylan laughed, or tried to. It came out as a wheeze past Tristan’s forearm, which was pressing against Dylan’s throat. “Jealous, Coleman?”
“I’m going to kill you, Williams,” Tristan said, their faces only an inch away from each other. Tristan’s irises had turned silver-white. Oh, so not good.
The thoughts of everyone around us slammed over me like a tidal wave….
Where the heck did he come from?
Whoa, looks like Coleman’s still got the speed even after missing a whole season of practice! I didn’t even see him move across the cafeteria. He’s got to be juicing.
So Tristan isn’t over Bethany after all! I knew he wouldn’t get over the only girl who ever dumped him!
Oh, my God, look at how jealous Coleman is! He ran so fast over here I didn’t even see him coming. He’s going to try to steal Bethany back from Williams. But will she dump Williams for Coleman?
Oooh, look at poor Savannah’s face. How devastating to have to see her boyfriend get so jealous over another girl! Any second now she’s going to start bawling, and…
The descendants were thinking just as loudly. There was no way to shut out the ocean of voices. And way too many humans had noticed how fast Tristan had moved.
I risked closing the distance between us and grabbed Tristan’s shoulder. “Tristan, let him go.”
“He’s—”
“I know. But you’ve got to let him go.” And you’ve got to calm down, I added silently since we were surrounded by both descendants and humans who could easily hear even a whisper in the now dead-quiet cafeteria. Everyone just saw you vamp blur over here. If you bite him, too, the council will have no choice but to go after you. Don’t give the Clann what they want. If you do, Dylan wins.
Tristan growled under his breath. Dylan’s grin wasn’t helping him regain control of his temper. But finally Tristan shoved himself away from Dylan and walked off.
Breathing out a sigh of relief, I followed him back across the cafeteria. My legs felt rubbery as I eased down into my chair again. Then I looked up and realized Tristan was still standing by his chair. I gave him a questioning look, then snuck a peek at his thoughts.
He was immersed in the thoughts of everyone around us.
I reached out and tugged at his hand. He blinked a few times, sank down into his chair, then slouched down in the seat with his arms crossed, lost in everyone else’s thoughts.
Silence at our table, even though the noise level in the rest of the cafeteria had risen back to normal.
“I would have punched him in his stupid face,” Anne said, then casually took a long chug of her soda.
“Anne, that wouldn’t have helped the situation,” Carrie said.
“No, he definitely should have hit him,” Michelle said.
Tristan frowned, feeling like the rope in a game of tugof-war between listening to my friends’ opinions and everyone else’s loud thoughts. He turned to me. Sorry, Sav. I didn’t even decide to go after him. One second I was here and the next…
I sighed, reached over and patted his thigh. It’s okay. I hoped.
But now everyone thinks I’m jealous about Bethany, and I’m not! I just hate that Dylan’s using her to try to piss me off. She’s a sweet girl. She deserves better than that.
This was definitely an awkward conversation to be having with my boyfriend, silently or otherwise. I tried not to squirm in my seat. Let’s just focus on getting through the rest of lunch without vamping out on anyone else, okay?
One corner of his mouth tightened. Go on and say it. You told me so.
I shook my head, pressing my lips together. Nope, not going to say it.
Why not? You totally earned the right to this time. You warned me that coming here was going to push me too hard too soon, and just like you feared, I lost control.
I sighed. Well, it could have been worse. At least you didn’t actually bare your fangs or bite him.
No, but I sure wanted to. His mouth slanted into a wry smile as our eyes met. He took my hand from his thigh and raised it to his lips for a kiss. Have I told you lately how lucky I am to have you?
I smiled. Oh, you’re just saying that to try to cover for the fact that you’re jealous over your ex.
He rolled his eyes at the joke. You know that’s not it.
I nodded.
But did I really know that deep down?
I pushed the question away. Tristan loved me. He was just a good guy who hated to see Dylan hurt anyone, including one of his ex-girlfriends.
TRISTAN
Great. So much for proving I was in control all day long. We stuck around in the cafeteria till ten minutes before the bell. Then Savannah and I cut out early, planning to grab a few minutes of alone time out on the catwalk.
Except it was already in use by Dylan and Bethany. The rage rose up like a bonfire inside me, blistering across my skin, all but demanding I go after Dylan.
Then I felt the cool touch of Savannah’s hand on my forearm, reminding me of all the reasons I shouldn’t kill the punk descendant.
“I’m fine,” I muttered to reassure her as we took the steps up to the ramp that led to the catwalk.
I planned on walking right past the couple without saying a word, just to prove I was in control again.
But then Dylan stopped kissin
g Bethany. Grinning, he clearly thought, You always did have the best taste in women.
Did she taste like honey to you, too?
I stopped, my fists clenching at my sides.
“Dylan, shut up,” Savannah hissed, stepping in front of me. Dylan laughed. “Why, when it’s so much fun to see him lose it over and over? You really should get a leash for that one. I don’t think he’s going to make it much longer if you don’t.”
Rumbling in my chest made me realize I was growling. I swallowed down the sound. Control. Stay in control, Coleman.
Don’t give him what he wants.
“Bethany, you should get out of here,” Savannah muttered, glancing over her shoulder at me. She reached back to grab my forearm again, and this time her grip said she wasn’t letting go for anything.
Bethany’s eyes narrowed. “Why? We were here first.” “Don’t be stupid, Bethany,” Savannah hissed. “You could get hurt.”
Bethany rolled her eyes. “I’m not some fragile f lower, Savannah.” She reached around and slid a hand across Dylan’s chest with a smile. “Besides, Dyl will keep me safe, won’t you?”
“You know it,” Dylan murmured, turning his head to kiss her again.
“Bethany, can’t you see he’s just using you to tick me off?” I said.
They stopped kissing and Bethany smiled. “I don’t think so. We started dating while you were gone, and we’ve been dating for months without you here to see it. If all he wanted was to make you jealous, why wouldn’t he wait till you came back before asking me out?” Still smiling, she cupped Dylan’s cheek. “I know my baby loves me. And for the record, if you’re so worried about someone hurting me, maybe you should look in the mirror. Because Dylan has done nothing but treat me like a queen, which is more than I can say about you.”