“What?” Tristen Hyde had never asked for instruction before. Maybe not in his entire life. And certainly not from me.
“This is your experiment,” he reminded me. “You’re in charge.”
Yes, we’d agreed on that, but I hadn’t really expected him to give me control. “Um . . . do you think we should . . . ?”
“Jill.” He gave me a level, encouraging stare. “I trust your judgment.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay. We need to start at the beginning. We haven’t even developed a solid hypothesis.”
“I’ll get a notebook,” Tristen said. He glanced to the front of the room, where Mr. Messerschmidt was sitting at his desk watching us all work. “If you’ll excuse me for a minute, though, I want to make sure Messerschmidt gets that order for rats underway. He’s not being very proactive, given how soon we need them.”
“Okay,” I agreed, following him with my eyes as he walked to the front of the room, broken but with his usual confident gait. How could Tristen still make my heart race, and calm me, and make me want to laugh and cry and throw myself into his arms when I knew what he was? How was it that the more battered, the more terrible he became in my eyes, the more I seemed drawn to him? What did that say about me? What was wrong with me?
“Hey, Jekel.”
I’d been so focused on Tristen that I hadn’t noticed Todd sidling up next to me. I wheeled around, heart pounding with alarm. “What?”
“I didn’t like that shit you said about me in the coffee shop,” he hissed.
“What?” I repeated, struggling to maintain my composure. I’d been in a coffee shop? With Todd?
“If you ever want to find out what it’s like to be with a real man just call me,” he continued in a low snarl. But his eyes darted to Tristen, nervously, before he added, “I’ll show you who has the bigger one, bitch.”
“I don’t . . .” What had I said to him?
“Oh, not so tough today, are you?” Flick sneered. “Or maybe now that I’ve called your bluff, you’re afraid that you really can’t handle what I can deliver.”
“I . . .” Was he offering to have sex with me?
He gave me an evil grin and made a motion of raising a phone to his face as he walked away. “If you ever have the guts, Jekel, call me.”
I waited until I could control my shaking legs before I walked, with as much composure as I could muster, to the door, avoiding Tristen, who was still talking with Mr. Messerschmidt. Then I hurried to the girls’ bathroom, where I leaned against the cool tile wall, avoiding the mirror, afraid to see my own face.
What had I done?
I was still fighting to remember when the door burst open and in marched Tristen, without bothering to knock or announce himself.
Chapter 64
Jill
“WHAT HAPPENED BACK THERE?” Tristen demanded. “What did Flick say to you?”
“Nothing.” I tried to edge past him toward the door. “It was nothing.”
He moved, too, blocking my path. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll get it out of him, by force if necessary. He will not upset you, not for as long as I’m around.”
“No, Tristen,” I snapped, yelling suddenly. My voice echoed against the pink walls. “No more violence! I’m so sick of violence!”
“Jill . . .” Tristen seemed surprised, and chastised. “You’re right,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to protect you. But you’re right. My way isn’t the right way, and you probably handled it much better on your own, anyhow.”
I stared at Tristen, who looked so out of place surrounded by pink tile, and suddenly the whole world seemed as topsy-turvy as a boy in the girls’ room. I saw everything from a distance, like I was a character in a movie filled with ambiguous heroes and unexpected villains.
The most gallant, self-sacrificing guy in school was a murderer. The hottest, most popular stud had just propositioned the plainest, least popular virgin. The virgin became some sort of crazy slut when night fell. Fathers stole from daughters and attacked their sons. Mothers were too damaged and preoccupied to hold their own children. Teachers heeded their students, and shy girls snapped at dominant bitches. Chemistry, where I’d once found order in the universe, wreaked havoc on souls.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” I blurted, burying my face in my hands. “I’m confused, Tristen . . . Nothing seems clear anymore.”
I think I expected Tristen, my guardian, to reach out and hold me like he’d done in the past. That was his role, wasn’t it? But I stood there alone, and when I pulled my hands away from my face, I saw that he had his arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he said with almost pained sympathy. “I’m sorry that you’re confused. I wish I could help, beyond winning you a scholarship so you can have a better future. But I’m afraid I’m just not the right man to do more.”
I knew then that when I’d pushed him away in art class, I’d severed something between us. He would still defend me against bullies. That was just his nature, and he probably would have risen to protect any weak creature. But he wouldn’t fold me against himself again. He would respect the distance I’d put between us.
“Let’s go,” he said, moving toward the door. “We don’t have time to waste standing around in here. I’ve an appointment in an hour.”
I followed him, and of course Tristen, always a gentleman when not wielding a butcher knife, held the door for me with his bloodstained hand.
I really, really wanted to ask him who he was going to meet, but I had a feeling that I didn’t have a right anymore.
Chapter 65
Tristen
“HOW MUCH WILL YOU give me for it?” I asked as one of our school’s most dismal miscreants, Mick Soder, ran his dirty paw down the side of my Honda.
“It runs good?” he asked, continuing to caress the car.
“Yes,
