Kristie Cook - Promise

I wondered if Tristan was the college party type. There was definitely something edgy about him. And what warm-blooded male would pass up a pool party with college girls—especially these girls?

"No, thanks," he replied, holding my eyes, the steely undertone still there.

I blinked in surprise and, through my peripheral vision, saw both girls' mouths fall open. They obviously weren't used to rejection. They glanced down at the notebook in his lap, shot their eyes at me and then back at him.

"What ever ," they both huffed and stomped off.

Tristan relaxed as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I didn't understand his rejection. It occurred to me he was just being polite.

"You can go, if you want," I said. "You don't have to stay here with me."

He smiled. "Not interested. In going, I mean."

"Seriously. I'm used to hanging by myself."

His smile faded and his eyes flickered. "Do you want me to go?"

Yeah, right. I definitely didn't want him to go. It made me sad and lonely to just think about it. But he didn't need to know that.

"Does it matter what I want?" I asked, a slight edge to my tone. How did I get here, where being alone was a bad thing?

"It matters very much to me," he murmured.

My heart skipped. I stared at the ground, embarrassed.

"No, I don't want you to go," I whispered. "I just don't know why you'd want to stay. Most people don't hang around this long."

"I'm not most people."

He definitely was not like most people, but I knew he wasn't thinking along the same lines I was. I didn't know how to respond, so I just returned to reading my textbook, hoping he would forget the conversation. No such luck.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asked later as we walked to one of the on-campus cafés before communications class.

I shrugged and looked up at him. "You can always ask ."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Ah. So, then…will you answer a question for me?"

"Depends…"

"I guess I'll try my luck." He peered down at me. "What did you mean earlier when you said most people don't hang around this long?"

Crap. I shouldn't have said it . We were at the café and there was no line. I quickly ordered a salad and used the rest of the time to come up with a non-answer.

"So…you're not going to answer?" Tristan asked as we sat at a table by the window.

I shrugged. "I just meant most guys wouldn't pass up a pool party with hot college girls to do homework."

He leaned toward me, looking into my eyes, the gold sparkles bright and enrapturing. My breath caught. "That's not what you meant."

I forced myself to breathe, my head swimming from the intensity of his gaze.

"It's pretty close," I finally said. He continued staring at me expectantly. I sighed. Then I tried to switch directions with my own question. "Why did you pass it up?"

He shook his head. "You answer mine first."

I pulled my eyes from his and stared at my uninspiring salad. "Seriously…that pool party was an example. Most people wouldn't hang out for hours just doing homework and discussing trivial things."

I didn't add "with me," although that was the original meaning. It would point out something was wrong with me. I expected him to lose interest before he ever knew those things.

"I haven't found any of our conversations trivial," he replied. I looked back up at him and tilted my head, an eyebrow cocked. "You have?"

"It's not exactly exciting stuff."

His eyes flickered. "So…you're bored?"

"No!" I sighed again, getting frustrated. "That's not what I meant."

"Are you going to tell me what you mean, then? Or are we just going to continue in circles?" He sat back in his chair and took a bite of his apple, waiting for my answer.

I sighed yet again; it was nearly a groan. How could he do this to me? He was too irresistible for my own good.

"Fine." I took a deep breath. "I really don't get why you choose to hang out with me, doing nothing special, when there are so many other things you could be doing with so many other people. Most people would be long gone by now."

"I told you, I'm not like most people." He leaned forward, his gaze intense again. "I'd rather hang out, doing nothing special with you because you are …special."

My eyes widened, my heart getting erratic. A moment of silence passed as I recovered.

"You obviously don't know me very well," I muttered.

"Hmm…I know you and I are very much alike."

I raised an eyebrow. "In what alternate reality? We seem to be complete opposites."

He was perfect. I was ordinary…except for the weird things. He was a math whiz and I was an English major. He was athletic; I was far from it. He was beautiful. I was…me.

He nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. "Hmm…yes, in many ways we are opposites, you're right. But, we're much more alike than you realize. You're not like most people either."

So he did notice. Yet here he was.

"And that's why I passed it up. College parties are no good for me. Trust me. You, on the other hand, are very good for me." He grinned beautifully and I just stared at him for a long moment.

"I don't get it," I finally whispered.

"You don't have to. It's just the way it is." He glanced behind me, apparently at a clock. "Eat up or we'll be late."

When I arrived home, Mom stood in the foyer, as if she had been waiting. She didn't look happy.

"You're still hanging out with him," she said. It wasn't a question. She would know the truth, if she were looking for it, which apparently she had been.

I shrugged. "I guess that's what you'd call it. We just study, really."

She glared at me for a long moment. "You really like him?"

"Yeah, I do. Who wouldn't? He's absolutely gorgeous!"

"Yes, well, looks aren't everything." Her tone was curt, almost cold.

"Of course, they aren't! You know me better than that."

She sighed. "You're right. So, what else?"

"He's nice, easy to be around and a real gentleman. And I think he likes me."

"You don't need to like someone just because they like you, Alexis. What about Owen? He's a sweetie."

"Mother, will you stop it? You're being condescending." I glared at her.

She crossed her arms. Her voice hardened. "I'm just looking out for your best interests, Alexis."

"And you think Owen is in my best interest?" It came out as almost a sneer.

"Owen or just about anyone other than this Tristan!"

"So, you want me to date, but I can only like the guy as long as it's someone you pick."

"I just don't want you to get hurt!"

"And how do you know Owen or whoever you choose wouldn't hurt me?" I nearly shouted

"And how do you know Tristan isn't just like James ?"

Ouch. That hurt and she knew it. She probably figured likening Tristan to him would be all it took to change my mind. It only made me angrier.

"And I guess it's impossible for Owen to be anything like James, since you know him soooo well."

She narrowed her eyes and kept her voice low but hard. "Owen is nothing like James. You can trust me on that one."

"But you can't trust me with Tristan?"

" No, I can't! "

I flinched. She dropped her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. After a long moment, she finally looked at me, concern filling her eyes.

"It's not you whom I don't trust, honey," she said, her voice now soft. "How well do you even know Tristan?"

"Better than you do," I spat. I groaned in frustration, though, because she had a point—I really didn't know Tristan at all.

"I'm just worried about you." The concern in her voice wiped my anger away.

I sighed. "Do you want me to date or not?"

"I think it'd be good for you to date. You need to come out of your shell. But I want you to date a nice boy. Tristan…" She hesitated.