by Geri Watson
When she was about a good halfway through the book she read about a case that sounded exactly like what she and Tristan had experienced. As she read on, she found out that the couple hadn't been willing to make an effort to change their lives to fit each other in. They'd never had a chance, just like her and Tristan. And it was because of her. She didn't notice that she was crying until a tear fell on the page and smeared the word she was reading. Sensing she was getting too upset, she closed the book and walked across the hallway into the room Zack was staying. He was sprawled out on the bed on his back with his arm hanging off the side, deep asleep. She knelt by the bed and shook him.
"Zack?"
He moaned but didn't wake up. Star shook him a little harder.
"Zack? ...come on, wake up."
"What?" he groaned with his eyes closed. "Can't this wait until morning?"
"No... I wanna talk about Tristan," her voice catching when she said his name.
He opened one eye and looked at her. "Yeah? I thought you told me that was none of my business."
"I know I did." She sank onto the carpet by his bed. "I can't keep it all inside anymore."
Zack crawled out of bed and sat down next to her.
And Star talked. She told Zack about how she'd met Tristan, and about how he had made her feel alive. Then she confessed that Tristan made her question everything she ever knew about love and what it meant to belong to someone else. She explained what had happened that night when Tristan had left and that it was her that made him go and not the other way around.
She heard Zack inhale at that part, but he didn't say anything. Then she went on to tell him that Tristan was all she ever thought about and that she regretted not going after him. By the time she was done, her legs were pulled up to her chin, and although her tears were flowing steadily, her voice didn't tremble. After she'd gotten everything else about Tristan out of her system, she stopped and sniffed, then finally looked over at Zack for his reaction.
"You should call him," he said as he pulled Star into his arms.
She hugged him. "I'm afraid to."
He shook his head. "You know you could have told me all of this earlier...what made you tell me now?"
Star shrugged. "Does it matter?"
Zack kissed the top of her head and held her a little tighter. "Not really. I'm glad you did."
"He's never going to forgive me for what I did to him." Star rested her head on Zack's shoulder.
"I wouldn't bet on that," he mumbled.
"How would you know?" she sniffed.
"Because the guy I talked to didn't seem mad at you...but he was sure mad at me for trying to butt in," he laughed nervously.
"Oh Zack," she sighed. "Tell me you didn't."
"Well, you shut me out! You shut everyone out. I didn't know what to do. All I knew was that you were fine before he came into your life and then you pulled a 180 once he was gone. What was I supposed to think? You wouldn't tell me anything! So I did what I always do, I went to the source of what I thought caused the problem and tried to resolve it," he explained.
She closed her eyes and flinched. "I know I did."
"But why?" Zack questioned her. "You've never been the type to close yourself off, at least not as long as I've known you anyway."
The reason she shut herself off? She was ashamed of what she had done and didn't have anyone she could explain what had happened to. Her stubbornness prevented her from moving forward, and her metaphysical link with Tristan had prevented her from leaving it all behind.
She had tried to forget Tristan. After the night of crying, she'd spent more time with Alex than usual. It had worked temporarily, but it all came crashing down. Since they didn't get more than two days off for Thanksgiving, she and Zack had Alex and Alyssa come over, and they had their own Thanksgiving together as a family of sorts. That night, after Alyssa had left, Zack was watching a football game, and she and Alex had been in the sunroom talking. Since Alex wasn't much into football, he suggested that they watch a movie in her room instead.
She thought that she'd be able to handle having him in her room. By that point, they'd been together for four months, after all. She had been bent down looking through her movie collection when Alex came in.
When she turned around and saw him sitting on her bed, however, she had what she could only explain as a panic attack. The image of Alex sitting on her bed stunned her system. All she could see was Tristan there instead, and Star realized with blind clarity that she didn't want that image replaced.
At that point Star started getting one of her headaches and, terrified of Alex seeing her blackout, she'd asked him to leave. The next day she broke up with him. He hadn't understood what he'd done, of course. The only thing she could say was so cliché it made her wince.
It's not you; it's me.
"I didn't want to burden anyone else with my issues," she said softly, looking up at Zack. "It was easier to cut myself off than face reality and fake being okay with everything that happened."
Zack raised an eyebrow at her. "That's a dark view."
She shrugged and got up from the floor. "I've been in a dark place."
"Are you going to stay there?" he asked with worry heavy in his voice. "It hurts to see you going through this and have you not let me help."
"I don't know," Star whispered. "I wish I could see Tristan again." her hand rested on the doorframe as she went to leave the room.
Zack got up from the floor and crawled back in bed. "I'm telling you Star, just call him. The things he said to me make me think he feels the same way."
CHAPTER 18
Tristan was up in his room when he heard a noise downstairs. He looked up to see Scout still curled up on the floor by his closet door. Art had left for work only an hour ago, so it was unlikely that his brother had come back home. Curious, he got up from his desk and cautiously made his way downstairs. At the foot of the stairs, he was surprised to see a tattered trunk and a set of large worn suitcases. A moment later the door to the garage opened, and Tristan's mouth dropped open.
"Mom? Dad?" he shook his head and blinked. "What are you doing home?"
"Well, hello to you, son. We missed you, too." his father guffawed.
His mother swatted at him. "Leave him alone, Daniel. I told you we should have called the house first." She turned toward Tristan and pulled him in for a hug. He returned the hug, still a little stunned by their sudden appearance.
"Is Arthur working?" his father asked.
"Um, yes. Art left about an hour ago...did you want me to call him?" Tristan asked, scratching his head.
"Nonsense, no need bothering him with our arrival. He'll see us when he gets home," his father stated as he went into the kitchen and got bottled water out of the fridge.
"Don't look so shell-shocked honey," his mother mused as she looked over at him. "It is almost Christmas, you know."
Tristan shook his head. "Well yeah, but..."
"Don't slouch like that, it'll ruin your posture," she scolded as she tapped his stomach. He stood up straighter in response.
"Do you want me to bring your bags upstairs?" he offered.
"That would be great, sweetheart." She grabbed his chin lightly. "Let's talk when you come back down, alright?"
"Sure, Mom."
He grabbed two of the suitcases, set them in the upstairs master bedroom and then went back down to get the trunk. After his fourth trip, all the bags were upstairs, and his parents were settled in on the couch waiting for him.
They had left at the beginning of summer. He guessed any other kid would have been thrilled to see their parents after almost six months. Instead, he wished they had let him know that they were going to be home for Christmas.
He should have felt guilty for that, but then again Tristan's relationship with his parents had always been somewhat strained because of their almost constant absence from his life. He could count the number of holidays they had spent together since Art turned 18 on one hand.
Their appearance now made him wonder what was going on. He grabbed a can of soda from the fridge and sat on the loveseat across the room from them.
"How was the flight in?" he asked politely.
"It was fine. The closer we got to home, the more crowded the airports were due to holiday travelers though," his father commented.
Tristan nodded. "How long are you going to be home?"
His parents looked at each other, and his mother clasped her hands together in her lap. "Well, we were thinking of staying put for a while," she said as she looked over at Tristan.
He raised an eyebrow in response. "What brought that decision on?"
"You," his father said shortly.
"Me?!" Tristan reacted, panicking a little.
"Yes, you. Something is going on with you. Art told us something happened between you and Star and then all of the sudden you're never home when we call. You're going to parties. You're working more..."
"None of that sounds like anything bad to me." Tristan furrowed his eyebrows.
"You're hiding," his mother cut in.
"No. I'm social," he argued. "Most people would think that's a good thing to be when you're in college." He looked over at his father. "That's where you make half your networking connections right?"
"Tristan..." his father started.
"What?" he cut him off.
"You reacting like this isn't helping your case any," he sternly shot back.
"Forgive me for overreacting, but put yourself in my shoes for a minute. My parents, who have been gone for the past six months, show up unexpectedly. First, they don't call. Then, once they're home, they drop a bomb and tell me that they're not traveling for a while. Take into consideration that they've been traveling for the past eight years non-stop. And you expect me to be okay with the fact that the reason you're going to stop traveling is that you want to start parenting me now magically? Really?" He looked over at them frustrated.
"Okay." His mother put a hand up. "Calm down. We'll start over...what happened with you and Star?"
"I... we...no... I don't want to talk about this!" Tristan stumbled over his words, shaking his head. "It's over, and it doesn't matter what happened."
"I thought you were going to go talk to her," his mother pressed on.
Tristan sighed. "I did go to talk to her. She was with her boyfriend when I got there."
"You tried to date a girl that already had a boyfriend!?" his father questioned.
Groaning, Tristan stood up. "Kind of...it's so much more complicated than that, Dad."
"Try me."
"I don't want to." He grabbed his soda and walked to the bottom of the stairs.
"You know Tristan," his mother said softly, "when you were little you never asked for help either when you needed it. You always had to do everything on your own."
He paused on the stairs. "You couldn't help me even if I asked for it."
"Does this have anything to do with the stacks of reincarnation books you've been reading since you met her?" his father asked, crossing his arms.
Tristan turned around and met his father’s gaze evenly.
"You think Arthur is so oblivious, Tristan. He does keep tabs on you, especially when you start not acting like yourself."
Tristan sat down on the stairs but didn't say anything. What was he supposed to say? Yes, it has everything to do with it?
Of all people to talk to about this, his parents weren't on the list. In a way, he felt trapped. Here he thought he'd been keeping this to himself reasonably well, only to find out now that Art had been talking about him behind his back. His mother stood up and walked over to him. When she reached the stairs, Tristan looked at her with confusion in his eyes.
"I don't know what to say."
"I know that your father and I haven't been the greatest parents in the world to you kids. And that is entirely our own doing. You and Arthur have always been more mature and able to handle yourselves. I guess we took that for granted and didn't consider your actual ages. Maybe that was wrong. But we're here now, and we want to help you with whatever it is you're going through." Her voice was gentle.
"The way you're going on about this makes me feel like it's more of an intervention. I'm not on drugs, I'm not drinking, and I'm not depressed. I appreciate everything you both went through to come home but it just wasn't necessary." He stood up and started going back up the stairs.
"Tristan..." he heard his mother say behind him.
"Let him go, Christine," his father stopped her.
Once he got into his room, Tristan shut the door and leaned against the back of it, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath.
That was so uncomfortable. Two days before Christmas or not, I'm getting out of here.
He grabbed a bag from his closet and started throwing clothes into it. A minute later he looked up flights online and called the airlines to try to get a flight out of Sea-Tac airport. As he was on hold, he went into his bathroom and threw in what he would need. He couldn't get a flight, but they told him he was welcome to stay and see if there were any cancellations. At this point, it was worth sleeping in the airport. After hanging up with the airline, he called Emily.
"Hey, Tristan."
"Well, I'm leaving," he said as he pushed his suitcase shut and zipped it up.
"You're actually going out there?" she sounded surprised.
"My parents came home," he said through pursed lips.
"And you're leaving?" Her tone was more confused than anything.
"It's a long story. Trust me; it's better if I go," Tristan sighed.
"Well alright. Be careful." Emily's voice lowered.
"I will Em, Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Tristan. I hope you get what you want."
"Thanks. See you when I get back."
He sent an e-mail to Art apologizing for skipping town and thanking him in advance for watching Scout. Then Tristan bent down and said goodbye to his pup, telling her to be good.
He hefted his suitcase off the bed and grabbed his heavy coat, figuring it was only going to get colder. Bracing himself, he opened his bedroom door and walked quickly down the stairs. His father, seeing Tristan's coat and suitcase in his hands, stood up from the couch and whistled for him to stop. Tristan set his jaw and turned toward his father.
"Yes?"
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked with authority behind his voice.
"I'm doing what I should have weeks ago," Tristan replied evenly.
"And what might that be?" His father's tone was forceful, but Tristan blew it off.
"If you and Mom stick around, you'll find out when I get back." He opened the door to the garage and walked out without saying goodbye.
He heard his mother’s voice muffled and then she was in the doorway as he put his suitcase in the car.
"You're leaving? Just like that?" She sounded hurt.
Tristan stepped back in the doorway. "I'll be back before the break is over."
"Don't I even get to know where you're headed?" Her pleading eyes met his.
He paused for a second as he thought of what to say. "I'm going to stop hiding and ask for help from the only person that can fix me."
She looked at him confused.
"I need to do this. You and Dad showing up and confronting me as you did only vindicates that." He gave her a tight hug.
His mother hugged him tightly in return. "Are we ever going to get to meet her?"
He backed away from her toward his car. "If you truly are going to stay put, then yes."
"We love you, Tristan." Her words were sincere.
"I think I figured out the hard way that it's not what you say but what you do that proves that, Mom," he said, climbing in the driver's seat. "Merry Christmas."
CHAPTER 19
"So what did you get me?" Zack asked for the fifth time in an hour.
Star laughed. "You'll find out tomorrow when I give it to you. Geez, you're worse than a little kid."
The two of them were on the floor of her bedroom wrapping last minute gifts. Zack had been harassing Star all day trying to find out what she'd gotten him for Christmas. There was holiday music playing on her stereo, and the television featured a Claymation movie on mute.
