The return of Tristan Dugrey was big news in all parts of the school.
Friends and fans greeted him with enthusiastic delight. It was as if Christmas had arrived a week early. They asked him how his aweful adventure had been, and charged their gazes with awe and pity. Tristan tried his best to avoid these people. They were like the paparazzi--everywhere.
Teachers greeted him with an odd combination of pleased apprehension. However, this morphed into shocked relief when they realized that he participated in class now. It was this new thing he'd been trying, which he liked to call, "not getting my ass thrown back in military school."
Rory, Finn and Tristan had become a tight knit group, sometimes letting Paris tag along. They did everything together. Homework...party...well that was pretty much it. The point though, was that they did it together. Finn and Tristan hit it off right from the start.
Tristan recognized that although Finn seemed to have an unconditional affection for the entire female race, he was rarely serious in his exploits, and he would never touch another guy's girl. Finn made no effort to figure out Tristan. The fact of the matter was that Rory liked him, so he must have at least many redeeming qualities.
Tristan had only been back for less than a week. He was currently using his life savings to feed himself and had broken into his locked house. Having it to himself was both creepy and comfortable. He even spent time reading in his father's study, though not out of any affinity to him. It was more of a defiance. A thing he could never do if his father was home, so he did it now. He even tried a cigar, though it didn't work out so well.
"Yeah Mare, I agree with you. Paris is an idiot. I--" it was at this point that he fell into a violent fit of coughing, and put the cigar out on the polished surface of the mahogany desk. It left a burn mark. He didn't care.
"Tristan are you okay? Tristan?" Rory's voice came out of the phone, worry lacing her tone.
"Ye--eah, I'm fine." he cleared his throat. "I'll never be able to smoke cubans with colleages, but I'm fine." Her silvery laughter pealed, and he smiled. It was good to be home.
"Hello? Is someone there?" an accented voice called out through the halls of the house. "Master DuGrey? Did you come home early? I spoke with you just this morning." Crap. Eduardo had come to feed the cat, and apparently had smelled the cigar smoke from the hall.
"Sir?" The servant asked, and Tristan silently hung up the phone and moved toward the window. He was outside by the time the man entered the office, and, shrugging, left.
Tristan shivered in the icy December breeze, and flipped open his cell phone. He dialed Rory's number even as he ran to his car, ignoring the footsteps he left in the snow. More would cover it within the hour, it was starting to precipitate already.
"Hey, Mary?" he said, "I need somewhere to stay for a while."
Yeah, so that was a little itty bitty bit of a chapter. A midgit. A runt. I mean come on, that bordered on titchy it was so pathetic. The next one is on the way, though. I'm over the writers block and now I have a plan.
I only stuck this one on now because I know I havent written anything at all in a pretty long time, and I wanted to let you all know I'm still alive.
Hello there.