Crave (Harlequin Teen)

different kind burned my eyes now. “Really?”
    He grinned. “Yeah, really.”
    I couldn’t stop an answering smile from forming. “Okay. But no more acting like an ass. I’m the head manager. I’ve got a rep to maintain here. How am I supposed to boss those Charmers around when I can’t even keep my own managers in line?”
    He laughed and faked a salute. “Aye, aye, captain.”
    “And you get to carry the sound system and the trainer bag. For at least a week, for your rudeness to the team head manager.” My lips twitched with the effort not to laugh.
    “Yes, ma’am, Miss Savannah.” He grabbed the bag’s strap and slung it over his shoulder.
    As I followed him down the stairs, he looked back at me and grinned.
    And that’s when I realized how hard just being friends with him was going to be.
    Tristan
    At the end of practice, I hung around Mrs. Daniels’s office with Savannah.
    “Hey, I was thinking…you should keep an extra hat or two in your truck,” I said. “You know, in case anyone forgets theirs at the game tonight.”
    “Hmm, good idea. I’ll have to remember to grab a couple this afternoon.”
    “Why not grab them now while you’re here?”
    She shut and locked the closet door. “Because I have to come back up here this afternoon anyways.”
    “I thought we didn’t have practice the afternoon before a game?”
    “We don’t. But I do have to load all the Secret Sis gifts into my truck for the game.” She waved a hand at the dance room.
    I peeked through the doorway. A cabinet ran down the length of the back wall opposite the mirrors. Its counter was covered with blue-and-gold gifts of all shapes and styles. I gave a low whistle. That was one heck of a gift pile. With forty girls on the team, even if she put the presents into big boxes, she’d still have to make several trips.
    “Do the other managers usually help you?”
    “No. But they’re not heavy, and I like the exercise.”
    “Yeah, as if you need that. Okay, I’ll see you this afternoon, then.”
    “No!” Sheer panic erupted in her voice and across her face.
    I looked at her, eyebrows raised.
    “I mean, it’s fine,” she added. “I really don’t need your help. I’ll see you at the game, okay?”
    Her cheeks were pink, and she was looking everywhere but at me. Oh, yeah, she was definitely hiding something.
    I’d just have to swing by the dance room after school and see what she was up to.
    Savannah
    I kept thinking the more time I spent around Tristan at Charmers practice, the easier it would become to ignore him in history class. But the only people I could successfully ignore in there were Dylan and the Brat Twins. In fact, I’d gotten so good at tuning them out in class that the twins actually seemed to think I was deaf now. Which was pretty amusing, considering my already batlike hearing seemed to be growing more sensitive every month. Thankfully Dylan had decided to leave all the bullying attempts to the girls for a while.
    Unfortunately, even my supposed deafness didn’t stop the twins from trying to bait me before the start of every history class in increasingly louder voices.
    Today, the conversation was about who in the school was worth taking a bullet for. A stupid question, in my opinion, but the twins seemed to consider it a deep, debate-worthy topic.
    “Hey, Tristan,” Vanessa said. “Who would you take a bullet for?”
    “Uh, anybody in the school, I guess,” he muttered without turning to face them.
    That’s my Tristan. Smiling to myself, I pretended to focus on reading a book for an English assignment and prayed Mr. Smythe would hurry up and get to class.
    “Oh, surely not just anybody,” Vanessa whined. “I mean, you wouldn’t take a bullet for the freaks, would you?”
    “Such as?” Tristan sounded like he was warning the blondes about something, his voice dropping to a near growl.
    “Well, like Freaky Eyes there,” Vanessa stage-whispered.
    Three guesses who that was. It took everything I had not to snort with laughter. The Brat Twins were so transparent they were pathetic. They were just trying to make me mad. But they kept using old material in their attempts. And then they were dumb enough to wonder why being called a freak no longer bothered me much. I turned the page in my book and continued reading, confident that my Ice Princess mask was in no danger of cracking today.
    “Sure,” Tristan replied. “Why wouldn’t I take a bullet for her?”
    “Because she goes