Chapter Six – Part 2
Disclaimer: See Chapter One.
Earlier that day…Tristan swallowed the lump in his throat and heaved his heavy duffle bag toward the awaiting car parked outside. He held his head high and refused to meet his mother's sad eyes as he passed her. He was used to this… to leaving and his mother's atrocious acting. She must be ecstatic that I'm finally leaving, he thought bitterly. He lifted the trunk and placed his heavy bag into the compartment. Slamming it shut, he finally turned and met his mother's brown eyes.
"Well, mother… I must get going. I don't want to miss my flight."
Margaret DuGrey nodded; walking over to the teenager she wrapped her arms around her son. "Have a safe trip," she whispered.
Tristan was slightly surprised and awkwardly hugged back.
"Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt Mrs. DuGrey, but Mr. DuGrey has requested to talk with Tristan," Maria, one of the many maids replied, nervously playing with the hem of her crisp white apron.
Tristan stepped away from his mother's hug, somewhat relieved. "Where is he?"
"Mr. DuGrey is currently in his office."
Tristan thanked the middle-aged woman and slowly walked toward his father's office. What could he possibly want? He walked along the long hallway silently, and as he was nearing his father's large office he could hear his father's loud voice. Tristan strained to hear what his father was screaming about… it sounded as if he was arguing to someone. Tristan groaned; Matthew DuGrey sounded utterly furious.
Tristan hesitantly knocked on the door, waiting patiently.
"Come in."
He reached for the sterling silver knob, turned and pushed the thick door open. "You wanted to see me."
"Ah yes," the disappointment in the man's face was clearly evident, "Sit."
Tristan didn't sit down… he couldn't… he was too damn anxious. What was going on? Why was his father so angry?
Matthew DuGrey took a long sip of his scotch. "That was your grandfather on the phone."
Tristan nodded and waited for him to continue.
After what seemed like hours of silence, Matthew DuGrey finally spoke. "Your Chilton uniform is on your bed."
"What?" Tristan managed to say.
"I suggest you change… I wouldn't want you to be late on your first day," Matthew picked up the phone and started dialing. This signaled the end of their conversation.
Still in shock, Tristan walked from his father's office in a daze. What had just happened? It couldn't be… his father was just being his usual cruel self. He was clearly just joking. Quickly, Tristan sprinted up the stairs and jogged to his bedroom. He opened the door and to his surprise, he found the familiar uniform positioned on top of his bed. The pants, the tie… even the blazer. It was all there. Tristan fought the urge to grin and reached for his cell phone.
"Janlan DuGrey."
"Hey gramps."
"Tristan."
"I just called to say… thanks."
"For?"
Tristan smiled, "For convincing dad to let me stay."
"Oh that," Tristan could almost picture his grandfather's knowing smile, "It was easy."
"How did you do it gramps? Father had his mind set on me graduating at military school."
"No need to worry about that boy, just get ready for school."
--
And he was back.
Tristan DuGrey was back.
He grinned to himself as he pulled into the Chilton parking lot. Breathing in, he emerged from his vehicle with the pride and confidence that he was known for. He started walking towards the entrance, smiling at the occasional onlooker that had recognized him.
"You're back."
Tristan smiled, "Looks like it."
"How'd you do it?"
"I didn't do anything."
"You got kicked out didn't you?"
He chuckled, "Of course not."
"Then how?"
Tristan looked at Paris with amused eyes. God, he missed this. "Gramps."
"Ah, grandpa DuGrey… how is he?"
"He's doing well… so have I been missed around here?" he looked around the still empty hallway.
Paris shrugged, "Well… I haven't missed you, but those girls have."
Tristan turned and met with eight pairs of curious and happy eyes. He forced a smile and waved at the girls. Turning back to Paris, he grinned. "I've missed this place."
"So I see, anyway I have a phone call to make," Paris replied with a straight face as she pushed past Tristan and the girls who had started to gather.
Tristan glared at Paris as he noticed her teasing grin and focused his attention on the girls. "Hey girls… miss me?"
Looking down, he fixed the collar of his blazer, all the while thinking… I'm back.--
By lunch, everybody within Chilton was well aware of Tristan's arrival. Girls were happy while guys emitted loud groans of disapproval. Tristan sat at the crowded lunch table, laughing at something his friend had whispered.
"Where's McPhee?" Tristan had just noticed Jason's absence.
The football jock across from him shrugged. "Don't know… he's always away on Mondays."
Tristan nodded and continued to eat his lunch. In the meantime, he was continuing his search for her. He frowned slightly. She wasn't there. Why the hell is she not here? Maybe she's with him…
"Gilmore's away too," he turned his attention to his long time friend Randall.
"Who cares," Randy managed to say while stuffing his mouth with French fries.
Tristan didn't respond. Instead, he continued to eat his now cold lunch.
--
"So… how was military school?"
Tristan had to fight within himself to keep from rolling his eyes. Instead, he flashed the girl in front of him a lopsided smirk. He looked at her closely. She hasn't changed one bit.
"It was fine… how've you been Summer?"
She flashed him a seductive smile, her eyes wandering up and down his body. "You know… I've missed you," she whispered in his ear, fully aware of the students surrounding them.
Tristan smirked, catching the eye of one of his buddies. "I knew you would… I uh… have to go."
And with that, he brushed past Summer's glaring eyes and walked away. He quickly walked to his locker and eased the lock open, turning around occasionally, hoping that no one had followed him. Turning his attention to his locker, he began his search for his biology textbook, which had been misplaced in just a matter of hours. Great… that's seventy five dollars down the drain, he thought. As if I care anyway.
Hands snaked around his waist, which had caused him to jump and shiver involuntarily. "We're not done talking," her soft, seductive voice echoed in his ear.
Turning, he forced a tiny smirk. Pushing the girl aside, he kissed her cheek playfully. "And I think we are, have a nice day Summer," was what he whispered back.
He walked aimlessly through the many hallways of the school, with his head down and his eyes half closed. The day's events were beginning to take a toll on his body.
"Tristaaaaan!"
Tristan jumped up, his eyes widened as the shrill voices hit his now sensitive ears. Swallowing back a groan, he walked to the group of girls and smiled.
"Hey girls."
"Tristan," a female Tristan did not recognized gazed at him with lustful eyes. "How was military school?"
Tristan bit his tongue to keep from verbally attacking the girl; instead, he leaned against the cold, metal lockers and crossed his arms. "Okay."
"Move out of the fucking way!"
Tristan could recognize that voice anywhere. He was somewhat relieved, if anyone had the power to scare a group of sixteen year olds away, it was Paris Gellar. Looking to the direction of her voice, his heart jumped. Finally. His eyes had landed on the person he longed to see.
"Hey Mary!" Tristan couldn't help but shout.
Regaining his composure, he watched her reaction. Immediately, his smirk resurfaced. It still amazed him… she's still so damn beautiful.
He continued to look at the blue-eyed beauty, and it truly astonished him how someone wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt could still look so gorgeous. "Nice outfit by the way!" he shouted once more, his infamous grin grew rather wide as he saw her body become rigid before she continued to walk on.
Tristan excused himself from the group and decided to follow his most favorite girl in all of Chilton Prep. He reached the doors of Chilton and peered out onto the parking lot, where Paris and Rory stood, both talking animatedly. About me no doubt. The conversation between the two looked to have ended, and Paris stepped back to allow Rory access to the passenger seat of a station wagon. Tristan watched with squinted eyes as Rory turned her head to the driver, smiling slightly. Cursing his not so perfect vision, he reached for the handle of the door and opened the door enough to fit half his body. His head dropped to the ground, finally realizing whom the driver had been.
"Was that bag boy?" Tristan found his voice as Paris passed him.
"No, it was Dean," was Paris' short reply.
--
Whoa… it feels like I haven't updated in ages… and maybe I haven't but I've been a very busy girl. I just moved a few weeks ago and my parents refused to have the Internet up and running until the house was somewhat organized.
But dang man, you guys are the BEST! I LOVE you all! Yes, you hear that? I LOVE all of you and your awesome reviews. Keep making me smile by reviewing.
By the way, where are all the trory stories? The site has been seriously lacking some trory-ness. Although I have a TINY WEENY soft spot for Logan… he reminds me so much of Tristan but less hotter.