Slowly I make my way over to Tristan. He's standing there with his arms crossed, waiting for me. When I reach him, he heaves a long sigh and says, "Okay, she's passing out the packets now. You can come over to my house after school to work on it." "Okay," I reply as Mrs. Shelton hands us our packets. I read over mine quickly.

There's a page for basic information such as birthday, favorite color, favorite food. There's a page for background information, like family history. It has a page for interesting events in your life, goals you want to accomplish, and any personal struggles that you don't mind sharing with the class. And, finally there's a page with questions about your future. Like, do you plan on going to college, get married, having kids, etc. Tristan looks over his packet as well. By the time we're both finished, there's only five minutes of class left, so we go back to our seats and wait for the bell to ring.

***

I'm to meet Tristan at his house in an hour, which will be 4:00. I drive home from school to get changed. Even though I made it clear I don't want anything to do with him, he's still my crush, and I should still look good. So I change into a long, shimmery blue skirt and a pretty white crop top. I pick out some brown and white sandals and put those on. I pin my hair back in a neat bun and apply some light makeup. Finally, I'm ready. I go downstairs, swinging the keys, and drive straight to Tristan's house.

When I ring the doorbell, Reese opens the door. She's wearing a faded gingham dress. She immediately hugs my legs and starts chattering. I follow her inside and interrupt her rambling long enough to say, "Hi, Reese. I'm here to see Tristan." She looks me up and down, then asks, "Are you two together?"

A blush tints my cheeks as I reply, "No." She nods and asks, "Why are you here, then?" "I have a project to work on with him," I reply. She grabs my hand and leads me down the hall. "He's in his room," she says and points towards a door at the far end, then disappears.

I knock loudly on the door, and Tristan flings it open angrily. Taken aback, I step away from him. He's looking incredibly sexy in workout shorts and a tight shirt that shows off his toned muscles. But he appears distressed,  not at all like he was in school this morning. However, I don't question him as I trail silently behind him into his room.

It's surprisingly messy. The bed isn't made, and clothes are strewn everywhere. My sharp eyes catch sight of a pair of boxers, but I pretend not to notice. Tristan blushes as he sees me taking it all in. Hurriedly, in a few swift motions, he clears the floor of his clothes, stuffing them in his hamper. He somewhat makes the bed and invites me to sit down beside him. Halfheartedly, I sit, taking out the packets and a pencil.

"Okay," Tristan says, turning to face me. "Favorite color?" "Orange," I reply tentatively. I arch my eyebrows at him and he answers, "Grey." We go back and forth like that for a while, filling in the blanks on our packets. He learns my embarasssing favorite song, What Makes You Beautiful by One Direction. And I learn his semi-embarassing favorite song, Irrestible by Fall Out Boy, ft. Demi Lovato. His favorite hobby is going on boat rides, and he enjoys swimming as a sport. Me, my favorite sport is volleyball, and I enjoy reading and painting. His favorite place is Wyoming, and mine is Alabama. His favorite season is fall, whereas mine is summer. We have absolutely nothing in common. Except for liking The Fault In Our Stars, of course.

***

At about 6:00, Brittany peeks in and announces, "Supper's ready, guys." Tristan looks at me and asks, "You staying?" "Um..." "We're having cheeseburgers," Brittany supplies. "I'll stay," I decide immediately. Tristan and I walk downstairs where Brittany has dinner waiting. I sit down next to Reese and load my plate with food. 

"So, how's school?" Brittany asks. "Good," I reply. We chat some more, making lots of small talk. I'm guessing that Tristan doesn't have a dad, because he's never here when I come over. I'd really like to ask Tristan about it, but I know from experience that it might be a touchy subject. So I've decided to ask Brittany about it, since she's made it clear that she trusts me.

While we're doing the dishes, I say, "Brittany, I don't mean to be nosy, but where is Tristan's father?" She hesitates, then turns to face me.

She takes a deep breath and says, "Tristan's father, Blake Daniels, is the leader of a gang. I didn't know about it until after we were married. Their gang deals drugs to the hoods of the streets. At first it was all right, but eventually Blake became so caught up in the gang business that he stopped coming home to us. He stopped bringing us money and moved out of the house, into the gang's warehouse. We lost contact and now no one has seen or heard from him in two years. But before he left us, he made it clear that when he was unable to run the gang, he wanted Tristan to take over. He said that when the time was right, he would kidnap Tristan and force him to become the new gang leader."

I'm so astonished that I can't speak for a few seconds. When I recover my voice, I ask, "What does Tristan say about it all?" Brittany replies, "Tristan hardly speaks of the subject. We've only discussed it once, and he told me that he didn't want to take over his father's position." I nod. "So, do you have security?" She shakes her head. "We were told about a year back that Blake was killed in a bar fight, so I don't think we need to worry about it any longer." I give an understanding nod, and we go back to washing the dishes.

After our little chat, Brittany asks me a favor. "Tristan will be gone on the 14th, two days from now, and I have to go to a work conference. Will you please babysit Reese for me?" Of course, I agree right away.