Crave (Harlequin Teen)

searched for the word she wanted.
    “Megalomaniac?” I offered.
    “Yeah. That!”
    I sighed. “I’m sorry if I worried you. I really was…sick. In fact, I don’t remember most of last week beyond Monday afternoon. I think I scared Mom and Nanna, too.” There, that was the truth. Mostly.
    Three faces stared at me with open shock once again. I tried not to cringe in reaction. All this unexpected attention today made me want to find a hole to hide in.
    “So what was wrong with you?” Anne said.
    I shrugged and braced for the necessary lie. I would have to tell them it had been the flu. But the bell rang, cutting short the conversation. Thank goodness, too, because I really sucked at lying. And there was no way they would ever believe even half the stuff my family had told me this weekend. Hopefully they would just forget that I’d been out sick and had weird eyes now.
    If I was lucky, maybe I could forget, too.
    Tristan
    My knees bounced beneath the descendants’ table as I ate my lunch and watched the clock on the cafeteria wall. Two hours left until fourth-period algebra.
    I’d made the lunch-chair trade with Dylan permanent, though he wasn’t happy about it. But I’d had to pull rank on him; the view was better from his old seat. Or at least it had been, until the view showed a dark-haired boy, short and wiry, stopping at Savannah’s table.
    Probably one of her friends’ boyfriends.
    Except the guy was standing inches from Savannah and talking to her, not the others.
    My knees stopped bouncing.
    A classmate asking for help on an assignment? No, he looked too old to be a freshman like us.
    I leaned sideways toward my sister. “Who’s that guy?”
    “Huh?” Emily looked around then smirked. “Oh, you mean the one talking to a certain—”
    “Yeah.”
    She got the hint and whispered, “Tell you in a minute.” Then she pretended to return to her lunch. But I noticed her casually scoping out the cafeteria every few seconds.
    The guy braced one hand on Savannah’s table, another hand on the back of her chair, and leaned down toward her.
    I sat up, my hands clenching into fists on my thighs. Back off. Now, I thought to the would-be Romeo, adding a little magical push to the thought. Some humans were too thickheaded to pick up on Clann mental commands. This guy wasn’t, thankfully. His head shot up and he looked toward me.
    I knew I should be acting more casual in case the Clann noticed. But I’d lost control. I glared back at him, willing him to take a silent hint and get lost.
    After a few seconds, he straightened up and walked away.
    I eased down in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. But I still wanted to hit something.
    Once the guy was several yards away from Savannah, Emily leaned over and threw an arm around my shoulders. “That was Greg Stanwick. He’s a junior. Plays on the varsity soccer team, so apparently he’s good. I’ve heard he’s pretty charming and doesn’t mind dating younger girls. Like freshmen.”
    A growl started in my chest. Not Savannah, he wouldn’t. She needed someone…taller. Someone who didn’t smile like a freaking game-show host.
    “Youch. Want to ease up on the energy level there, little brother?” Emily peeled her arm from my shoulders and rubbed her skin through her shirtsleeve.
    “Sorry,” I muttered and glanced around our table. Everyone was staring at me. “Sorry,” I called out to the entire group. Several of them rolled their eyes and rubbed their arms or the back of their necks, but everyone seemed to accept the apology and looked away again. Everyone except Dylan, who kept watching me with raised eyebrows. I shrugged in answer to his silent question. He could be nosier than a girl looking for gossip sometimes.
    “You know that wouldn’t happen if you would focus on your training,” Emily said.
    “And you know I don’t care about all that crap.”
    “Too bad. The energy doesn’t go away if you ignore it. It only gets worse.”
    I tried ignoring her.
    “Tristan, don’t be moronic. If you don’t learn to ground better—”
    She nagged worse than our mother. “I grounded all weekend.”
    “Are you sure you’re doing it right?”
    “Yes.”
    “Hmm. Then you might want to try grounding at school, too.”
    “And how do I do that without looking crazy?”
    She surprised me with a laugh. “Find a tree.”
    “And then what, hit it?”
    “No, make like a car and gas pump but in reverse. Siphon off some of your energy