Tristan leaned over and helped her dig a deeper hole in the sand. A weight settled in his stomach. “What do you mean?”
Juliette didn’t answer. She tightened her hands into fists for a moment, then resumed digging. Her memory of Nathaniel’s touches and her inability to push him away made her nauseated.
“Juliette?”
She glanced up at him, her eyes troubled. “He was twenty-two, a college freshman for the third time. I was in high school finishing junior and senior classes, and most kids aren’t friendly to fifteen-year-olds about to graduate ahead of them. So he started showing me the type of attention you show a girl when you like her, and I couldn’t say no because I felt accepted for once. But he always stopped short of...things. I guess he knew sleeping with me wouldn’t be legal, but he’s okay breaking different laws. Nathaniel backed off when one of his other friends showed interest though. It didn’t make any more sense to me than it does to you. And then...happy birthday to me.”
“Why do I think I won’t like where this is going any more than the rest of it?”
From the sand pit, Juliette pulled a plump green clump of seaweed and tossed it aside. “My present from the state was me aging out of the system. You know the options from there. Either go with Nathaniel or have nowhere to live unless Susan and Paul wanted to take me. So now I’ve been at Nathaniel’s place for three and a half months and scared of his moods. He can seem frustrated in, um, a certain way, but won’t do anything with me. I don’t understand at all why he.... Still, he made sure I had a place to sleep, and enables me to continue my education.”
“When is your birthday?”
“December 18th.”
Tristan touched his fingers to her chin and lifted her face to his. His chest ached. A longing to protect her battled against a desire to push her away. For the moment, protection won. “Please come stay at my place. We have plenty of room.”
Juliette shook her head and dug more sand out of the hole. Icy water deeper down started filling the bottom, washing over her fingers. “Tell me a few things about you. Libby says you live with six or seven people you’re not related to, and one of them is a professor. So what’s up with the living situation? A car as fancy as yours sticks out. How can a college student at a public university afford a Bentley? Even Nathaniel can’t get one of those. Why are you in an undergrad class? You’re, what, twenty-two? Twenty-three?”
Discomfort settled in Tristan’s stomach. He flicked a small bug off his knee while contemplating how to begin answering when he wanted to tell the truth. “Twenty-four.”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
“I’m twenty-four.” Tristan shrugged dismissively, deciding on rushed half-truths. “Here’s the deal. Seven of us are in my family. I’m not at liberty to go too much into why we’re all together. That starts getting into the personal business of a couple of the others. We consider each other to be siblings. I’m working on another degree right now. Sunil, one of my brothers, and I had a bet on who can get more degrees before we die.” He chuckled and shook his head, drawing random shapes with a tiny stick next to the hole. “He’s got me so beat I don’t stand a chance.”
Juliette pressed her hand down over his. “Tristan, people talk about you. A lot. It’s not just girls wanting to hook up with you. Your car could put you through Harvard or Yale, but you’re in a public university. You can be snarky in class one minute, and act like someone from a different era the next. Maybe it’s your old-fashioned manners. Tell me about this.”
Tristan glanced toward the shop. A tall man carrying a surfboard headed their direction. He only had to distract her for a moment. “By the way, Juliette, the football team doesn’t have any training going on right now. Where did Nate really go?”
Her eyebrows drew together. “He told me they did. But about--”
“He lied to you.”
The man reached them and smiled down at them. "Hey, I'm Ben. You Tristan and Juliette?"
Tristan jumped up and held out a hand. "Tristan Larocque. Pleasure to meet you. This is Juliette St. Claire."
"Hello, Ben." Juliette grabbed Tristan's other hand and stood, Nathaniel’s lie -- and her questions -- forgotten.
They followed their instructor to the edge of the water and listened to his direction.
In the morning's mild waves, neither achieved much success. Tristan couldn’t focus on trying to stand. The sun shining in Juliette’s hair mesmerized him. She smiled and leaned her head back to laugh, her bright eyes sparkling. Her carefree and joyful expressions attracted him to her. He called an end to the lesson when she began spending more time lying on her floating board than paying attention to Ben.
Once back in their clothes, they found a cafe to settle down for lunch and rest their tired bodies.
"You sure don't eat much," Tristan said, biting into his rare hamburger.
"You're aiming for a heart attack," Juliette responded, taking a bite of her yogurt and granola. "I'll be right back. Refill on my drink."
Juliette took her plastic cup to the soda machine and waited her turn. A brunette in front of her said, "Your boyfriend is hot," while a shorter girl nodded.
"Oh my god, yeah," the companion added, blonde hair bobbing up and down.
"Tristan is not my boyfriend. He's a friend and nothing more." Juliette informed them, raising her nose.
"He's not? Can I try a crack at him?" the blonde asked excitedly.
"Melly!" The petite brunette lowered her drink and gaped. “You can’t ask something like that!”
"He’s available, so why not?"
Juliette inwardly panicked as she filled her cup. "Well…I don't think I can say no, since he isn’t mine." She knew she was wrong to not want anyone to have him even if she wasn't dating him, either. The thought of Tristan cuddling up to someone else caused an ache she couldn't ignore, especially following the connection they started after she confided in him about so much of her life. Juliette watched the blonde, Melly, saunter toward Tristan.
"Well hot damn, she's going to try.” The woman spied on her friend from the corner of her eyes.
Juliette willed herself to breathe. She couldn't hear what Melly said, but Tristan shook his head with a good natured laugh and looked back at Juliette with a huge grin and a wink.
"Why aren't you dating such a prime piece of man?" the brunette asked.
"I have a boyfriend of sorts, I guess."
"Look at him! Whoever you have can’t be as hot."
"Are looks all you care about?"
"No, but they help."
Melly rejoined them and rolled her eyes. "He told me he's here with someone special. You probably should tell him you're not dating him so another girl can get a chance."
"Opinion noted," Juliette said wryly, walking back to Tristan.
"Your new friend made a pretty bold proposition." He was still chuckling.
"I didn't like it. I couldn't hear everything, but I..."
"Oh, mon précieux petit papillon. How could I be interested in anyone else, especially when you're with me? You’re intelligent and caring, and you make me smile and laugh, which is a lot more than women like whoever-she-was can offer." Tristan reached for her hand and gave a friendly squeeze. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”
Something in Juliette’s purse rang. "I thought I turned my stupid leash off!" She pulled her phone out, a finger poised over the off button as she read the text.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh, geez. Tristan, I have to go. Libby's dog might get put down. She's had Bo since she was seven. She's asking me to meet her at the vet."
"Hey, if your friend's going through a tragedy, then she needs you more than I do." He bussed the table, saving Juliette's yogurt. "Please finish in the car, okay?"
On the way back to the parking space, Juliette told him about Bo, the overgrown Yorkshire Terrier.
They settled in their seats and buckled up and Juliette prattled off an address. "No, I'm sorry, that's her home. She said the
clinic is on Santa Monica in LA, near North Highland." She took tiny bites of her yogurt, trying to finish it for Tristan.
After a quiet drive, he pulled up in front of the building. "If there's anything I can do to help you, Libby, or her family, let me know, okay?"
"Thanks, Tristan. I'll call you later." She gave him a small smile as she got out and strode into the office.
* * *
William turned around to face Tristan. "You called her 'your little butterfly'? What the hell, Man?"
"Well, she’s going to be one. She's in the larval stage of life, and is going to build a cocoon at some point and will break out.” Tristan pressed the fingers of one hand together in demonstration. “Then she'll spread her wings like a butterfly and be free of the hell of her current life." His hands opened and his eyes shined bright, pleased at the prospect of her freedom.
Ash, finally home from a solo trip, asked incredulously, "You're comparing this woman to a larva? A squishy, plump larva? The sentiment's decent, but why not something that’s not a fat worm?"
"Ask Gabby and Em. I don't think they'll have much of a problem with the comparison." Condensation dripped down the side of Tristan’s glass and he thumbed away several beads of liquid.
"Oh, hey, Nate gets back in five days, right? Tuesday? What are you going to do then?"
"Tristan's smart. He'll stay out of Nate's way," William answered. "If anything will blow our cover, it'll be him and Nate beating each other and someone calling the cops. Even without fighting, if Nate finds out about the two of them, he might duke it out with Juliette. We don’t need to guess who would win."
Tristan shook his head. "That wouldn’t expose us. I won’t fight him because I don't want him to hurt Juliette. I can’t deal with thinking about that now, so can we just watch a movie until she calls?"
The comedy earned laughs from William and Ash and a few minutes of riding invisible horses while pretending to clap coconut shells together. They flipped a coin over the next one to play. William won, and began to sing about always looking on the bright side of life, his tune enhanced by Ash’s whistling, while scrolling through the movie list looking for it.
Neither Monty Python film could brighten Tristan’s mood. He kept checking his gold pocket watch, watching the minutes, then hours, tick by. His phone finally rang the tone he had set for Juliette’s calls. Nearly tripping over a leg of the coffee table, Tristan ran outside and answered.
"Juliette? What happened?"
"Her dog’s gone. Libby and everyone took off for her grandma's house in San Diego to bury him."
"I'm sorry. Are you all right?"
She sniffled. "Yeah, I'll be okay. Do you want to come over and get caught up on some homework? I didn't even start on Marsh’s stupid assignment."
"Sure, give me ten."
Tristan went inside to gather his school things, laptop computer, and to call the vet and take care of any outstanding bills. On the way out the door he shouted, "I'm heading to Juliette's. Back in a bit." He made a detour to the store to grab a fruit platter and the green health drinks he enjoyed and thought she might as well, showing up late.
"Sorry about the time. I got some snacks I hope will make you feel better."
"That's all right. Come on in." She led him to her room and waved at the pine chair next to her desk, taking her own place on the plain white bed. "What did you bring?"
"Fruit and a couple bottles of a superfood drink." The white-wash of the room pressed in on Tristan like he was in an institution. The lack of personal touched unsettled him, as if she'd never settled in herself.
She wiped her red eyes and sniffled. "Oh, thanks. Superfood’s good stuff. This assignment sucks."
"I'd expect something like this in a junior high classroom. Vampires. Vlad the Impaler, and now this. Did a couple of our professors plan this semester together, to make the lessons coincide?" Tristan snorted through his discomfort, for a moment trying to figure out why the topic appealed to him.
"Well, different groups were assigned other historical figured for that class, and so I think it’s just coincidence for us. But I had a similar assignment in eighth grade. I'm using that stupid series everyone's loving, and am going to compare to Interview With A Vampire. Interview was an okay read. The sparkle-pire books rotted my brain."
Tristan scratched his knee through khaki slacks. "Well, you can’t write that in a report. You’re going to have to use the real title. Do you think vampires would scare you if you ever met one?"
She shook her head. "I have an old friend out in Santa Clarita who called himself an 'energy vamp' and dyed his hair black. If there were real blood-sucking, or at least blood-drinking, vampires, they can't be more annoying than Matt."
Tristan tapped a pen on the desk and chuckled. "But what if they resembled normal people? Didn't dye their hair black or kill humans, and walked in sunlight without turning into dust. That myth is pretty new, I think."
"So kind of like the sparkle-pires, except those guys glittered in the sun, and uncomfortable as a marble statue to cuddle, and only killed wild animals. I guess that would be tolerable. Have you read these?"
"I lost a bet against one of my brothers and had to read them. That glittering was just ridiculous. Still, sometimes I wish I could be a vampire, glittering or not." He stretched a leg out and dryly laughed.
Juliette scrunched her nose and shook her head. "I wouldn’t want it. You either die or sparkle, living a damned half-life scared of the sun and watching everyone you love die. Who would want that? Why would you?”
“Might give a sense of identity in this crazy world.”
“What do you mean?” The bed creaked lightly as Juliette sat up straighter.
“Nothing. I’m just uncertain of who I am sometimes and what I want to do. Same as anyone else.” Tristan rose from his seat and went to the window. It opened with little effort. His hands came to a rest on the sill, his back to her. “What about the issue of immortality, or human-looking monsters other than vampires living forever? Bella believed an immortal life was a blessing, though it was a curse to Lou and Les. Blessing or curse, Juliette? What do you think?"
"Other than vampires?” Juliette swallowed and folded her hands in her lap. “Goes against too many legends, I think. I think never dying would actually be a terrible curse, though the thought of staying young in body is appealing. But trying to keep everyone from realizing aging has stopped, and watching all those you love die - that stuff would suck. Meet someone else, love, and say good bye. Over and over again. Eternal torment would be hell disguised as a blessing. I suppose it might be nice if everyone you loved were vampires too so there'd never be loneliness, but wouldn't life get boring after a while? The same people until the end of time. Since vampires are sort of frozen, no babies would happen to shake things up. Oh my gosh, a newborn baby staying newly born forever would drive me crazy."
Tristan drew in a couple steadying breath, ignoring the long distance to the ground. "Unless they're like, what's Bella’s kid's name? Something weird." Casually he turned around and reached toward the lamp, flicking the switch on.
"Renesmee or something similar. Blessing in disguise.” Juliette leaned against a pillow and stared hard as Tristan walked to the switch to turn off the overhead light. “Are you okay?”
“Light-induced headache coming on.” Tristan laughed. "And you're right. Immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be. Not just the thing about people dying, but finding love. You either go through being widowed every handful of decades, or hope you find another vampire. Slim pickings. You don't find a bunch of them walking down the street on a daily basis."
A grape on the platter tempted Juliette. She picked it up and started skinning the small fruit with her thumb nails. “I wonder if they’d stand out as much as the witches and wizards in the Harry Potter series. They wore cloaks and hats in public the day they thought Voldemort had been killed. Let me know if you need any Tylenol or anything, okay?”
Tristan covered his mo
uth with the back of his hand and doubled over, his body shaking with laughter.
“What’s funny? Am I missing something?”
Calming down, Tristan raised his face. “Sorry, Juliette. Just...no, I don’t think vampires, if they existed, would be as easy to identify as a wizard in a cloak. I doubt they’d walk around in old lace cravats like Lestat, or have big fangs.”
Juliette rolled her eyes and popped the skinned grape into her mouth. "What about human blood? One set required it to live, and the other didn't."
Tristan nodded. "Ah. I think that's just to make vampires sound more monstrous. How different is human blood from pig blood? Science shows some tissue from other species is safe for transplant into humans."
"So maybe the benefit to human blood is just psycho…psycho…oh, what's that word…" Juliette snapped her fingers.
"Psychosomatic?"
“Yes, that,” she said with a sigh. “What if they only experience a benefit from human blood over other animal blood because they have convinced themselves of it?"
"I hadn't considered that one before."
"But would that make human-killing vampires evil? If they were only doing what they believed they absolutely had to to survive."
Tristan stared blankly. "You're defending vampires killing humans."
"Not exactly. I wouldn't hold it against a bear to kill a human for food, even if it can eat other things. We're meat to them, no different than a deer, and they’ll take what’s available when they’re hungry. The complication for vampires is they're supposed to have our ability to think through what they’re going to kill to eat and have some culpability. But let’s say they were never taught and no one reached them to tell them there's not much of a difference. Then they're just in survival mode. It would take an almost inhuman act of strength or selflessness to put the lives of the only food you think you can have ahead of your own."
Tristan opened the remaining bottle of sweet green smoothie and took a swig. "It's quite something to hear you talk with compassion about vampires, even though I think they should at least try to eat non-human animals."
"Sorry I'm rambling. Probably incoherently, too." A flush warmed Juliette’s cheeks.
He smiled. "Don't worry. You're talking out loud, not organizing things on paper."