6.

Having barely slept the night before, Tristan had to push herself to get out of bed the next morning. She stopped herself as she sat up in bed, staring at her newly healed hand. There wasn't even a scar from where she had sliced her skin from the sauce can. She hated admitting how her once wounded hand came to be this way, that she had been healed by a God.

Uneasy at the thought, Tristan rushed to get ready for school. She didn't waste much time on anything exterior besides brushing her hair back into a ponytail and throwing on a clean pair of clothes. She felt that making herself presentable beyond the bare minimum invited attention --- something she dreaded. She never used to feel this way about receiving attention from her peers, swiftly changing her feelings on the matter as soon as the attention became negative.

Even doing as little as she did to bring that same unwanted attention onto herself, Tristan found herself in the midst of it all. Not by her own choice. If Tristan had it her way, she would blend into the wallpaper and go on about her last year of high school that way. But, that all had changed because of one thing: A kiss.

A kiss that, yet again, was not by Tristan's choice.

~~~

Tristan had a best friend at one point, Hasson Clearview, a boy she had met in her first year of high school that shared the same love for classic rock vinyl records and retro videogames. They met not because of these things, but found themselves in long conversations about their shared interests. Instead, Tristan and Hasson had met in Drama class. It was a class that neither one felt particularly drawn to taking, only doing so because it seemed like an easy course for Hasson and a way to make friends for Tristan.

They hit it off right away, both feeling like spectators in the drama of the class unfolding in front of them. Often times they would joke amongst themselves rather than joining in on the class. Before long, the semester ended and yet they remained friends after the class was finished.

Their friendship seemed to take place of Tristan's other best friend, Leigha, who was in another high school. Hasson and Tristan were never seen at school without the other, unless they were in their separate classes. For the most part, however, they had enrolled in most of the same classes so that they could work on their assignments together.

In their third year at Northrop High School, Tristan met Twila Venhessio in one of their classes. Instead of being assigned to partner up with Hasson, Tristan was miraculously set up as partners with Twila for the semester. Somehow there had been a mistake when they were being assigned seating, as it had always been common knowledge that Tristan and Hasson were class partners.

Despite begging from both sides, the teacher refused to change the partners, forcing both Tristan and Twila to be partners for the semester while Hasson was paired with someone else.

At first Tristan and Twila were awkward and uncomfortable around one another, making do with their forced partnership. Over time it seemed that a friendship was blossoming between the two with a lot of flirting on both sides. The class would crack up at their antics together, enjoying the coy flirting between the two as they worked.

There was one person who wasn't happy about this arrangement: Hasson. Despite Tristan's many attempts to include Hasson, he refused to be part of anything to do with Twila. He didn't like her. She was the popular know-it-all that he had grown up with. Whereas Tristan was cool, someone that challenged the norm. Hasson liked Tristan, but he was seeing a steady change in her as soon as Twila entered the picture.

In Tristan's case, this was the first time she had ever fallen in love. She couldn't get enough of Twila and knew she wanted to be in a relationship with her yet she couldn't get the courage to ask her. Then, one day, it happened. Twila took Tristan to their favourite spot and admitted as if she were embarrassed and ashamed, that she had feelings for Tristan. Meanwhile, Tristan felt like she had entered the gates of Heaven itself. The most popular girl in Northrop High had a crush on her. She was so excited to tell Twila that she felt the same that she nearly looked psychotic as she did. Throughout all of it, the truth was plain for them to see: They were falling in love with each other.

Not long after, they announced their relationship to the world and spent their days and nights falling more and more in love with one another. Nothing could hold them back and everything was picture perfect.

At the end of the third year, Twila decided to have an early birthday party since her birthday was in the middle of summer and everyone would be busy with vacations as well as other summer activities. Tristan invited Hasson to it, figuring he would decline the invite like he always did. Being the good friend that Tristan figured she was, she thought it was polite to send an invite his way despite his feelings against Twila. Much to Tristan's surprise, Hasson showed up the night of Twila's party.

Tristan was excited that Hasson had decided to show his face, that somehow he was extending the olive branch for the time he had spent disliking Twila and avoiding her. Everything seemed to be going well, Hasson mingled among the other people, but specifically made it his mission to come talk to Twila and to wish her a happy birthday. It wasn't an apology for the crap behaviour on his end, but it was enough for Tristan.

Taking Hasson to the back deck to talk, Tristan explained how she didn't want to lose Hasson's friendship. Hasson seemed to be stoic the entire time that they spoke, until finally he broke the silence. He leaned forward in a way he never had before, catching Tristan off-guard when his lips collided harshly into her own. She tried to back up but he wrapped his arms in a way that was supposed to be lovingly, but Tristan couldn't see it at the time. All she saw was her best friend pressing his lips into hers, forcing her mouth on his.

With one quick shove, Tristan freed herself from Hasson, who wasn't trying to force himself on Tristan. In his mind, Hasson thought the moment had called for a kiss. He thought it finally all came to this, that his apology to Tristan was a way of saying that he needed her in his life. In his mind, Hasson couldn't live without Tristan. He was in love with her.

The opposite was true for Tristan, however. She wasn't in love with Hasson at all, not even remotely close to it. She thought of him as her best friend and nothing more. Not once had she entertained the idea of being in a relationship with Hasson, or even liking him in that capacity. Sadly for Hasson, Tristan thought of him as closer to a brother than a lover.

And, the simple fact remained, that Tristan was deeply in love with her girl friend, Twila, who was waiting for them to return at any moment to celebrate her birthday with a song and cake.

There was no going back now, Tristan thought, and knew at that moment that her friendship with Hasson could no longer continue. She admitted that she didn't have feelings for him and that, because of the kiss, she wasn't going to be able to maintain the friendship. Hasson didn't take this well.

In fact, he took it so poorly that the first thing he did was run to Twila, confiding in her that something bad had happened. Tristan was completely unsuspecting of Hasson, taking a moment to collect herself out on the deck before returning to the party. The night could still be saved, Tristan thought.

When Tristan finally felt as though she had assessed what happened, she returned to the party with a clear head. As she walked through, greeting a few of the faces that she had been mingling with throughout the evening, Tristan realized something wasn't right. Most of the people turned away from her or forced a smile so fake that Tristan had to completely evaluate what had happened between the time she left the party and to that moment.

No matter who Tristan asked, no one would tell her where Twila was. She found herself searching the house endlessly, finding nothing that led her to Twila and with no help to aid her. Feeling hopeless, Tristan decided to wait it out until Twila returned.

In the meantime, no one would speak to Tristan as she waited, and if they looked at her then they only scowled in return. Tristan knew by her instinct alone that something bad had happened, feeling her gut turn over a few times as she wondered what it was.

Finally, Twila returned to the party. Wherever she was, she was gone for almost forty-five minutes. Upon her return, her friends seemed to swallow her attention whole while Tristan begged to get even remotely near to her girlfriend. Tristan had to fight to get close to Twila, who immediately turned and walked in the opposite direction when she caught sight of her, leaving Tristan by herself in the midst of the crowd of people.

Tristan called out for Twila to turn around, to stop walking away. As soon as Tristan said Twila's name again, Twila spun around to face her. Normally Twila's face was a beautiful bronzed brown, but now it was flaming red. She was bursting at the seams, ready to explode at any moment. All Tristan had to do was ask Twila what was wrong to get her to react.

"You cheated on me!" Twila accused through gnashed teeth.

Tristan knew exactly what had happened as soon as Twila had said the words, piecing it together in her head. She looked over Twila's shoulder and, sure enough, her thoughts came to a conclusion as she spotted none other than Hasson in the corner, smiling from ear-to-ear as he watched Twila burst into tears, reaching out to slap Tristan across her face.

No matter how much Tristan tried to explain the situation, she was unable to get the truth across to Twila. Instead, Twila chose to side with Hasson's version of events. She chose to believe that Tristan was the one who had kissed Hasson, which was far from what happened.

In Hasson's version of events, Tristan had confessed her feelings to him before she kissed him. When Hasson realized how wrong it was for Tristan to be doing such an awful thing to Twila, he knew he had to tell Twila the truth about what happened. He also went as far as to claim Tristan professed her love to him.

Twila, showing her naivety, let the hurt seep in far enough that she poisoned the narrative of who Tristan was in a matter of minutes. She announced to the entire party that was there to celebrate her birthday that Tristan had cheated on her before she exited the room, taking off to cry outside in the darkness of the laneway between two parked cars.

Now they were face-to-face, confronting the truth and, more importantly, the lies. Except it was everyone against Tristan with no one to back up what she was claiming. Tristan's version of events barely got air time let alone credibility because everyone wanted to side with Twila, no matter what the truth happened to be.

That was for one simple fact: Everyone wanted to be friends and popular like Twila. They feared her and feared going against anything she said. For that reason alone, Tristan had no one to lean on in that moment.

The entire crowd began yelling at Tristan, calling her names and telling her to leave the party, that no one wanted her there. Twila, finding herself now in the arms of her own best friend, was sobbing pathetically as she watched on. Hasson excused himself from the party before Tristan had the chance to get to him and to ask him why he lied about something so important to both of them.

Tristan was willing to move on without the kiss ever having to be an issue. Whereas Hasson felt the need to embarrass and shame Tristan for rejecting him, even if the rejection wasn't public. Tristan wasn't planning on talking about the kiss ever again. Hasson couldn't take the shame that he felt, deciding to make Tristan feel as badly as he did.

Humiliated, Tristan knew she couldn't talk sense into Twila in that moment. Twila threw the necklace that Tristan had given her as an early birthday gift, landing at Tristan's feet. Tristan couldn't believe that her girlfriend was breaking up with her over a lie that was spun so wildly out of control, and in front of all these people who were now mocking everything about her.

Tristan held herself together long enough to make a swift exit from the party, but she broke down the moment she was safely in her car driving home. From there on, life had been getting progressively worse for Tristan --- all because of a lie spun out of anger.

~~~

When Tristan found herself downstairs that morning, still ogling her newly healed hand, she was met by two disapproving stares from both of her dads. They both had various questions for Tristan, but neither one knew how to address the constant mindless behaviour from their daughter. Instead, it was Mike who decided to play Bad Cop with Tristan. He was quick to ask her about the mess of the garden.

"So you have no clue how the garbage ended up all over the lawn and in the garden?" Mike interrogated. "Because the raccoons wouldn't be able to get to the bags of garbage had you put them in the cans near the shed."

Tristan rolled her eyes and pushed her seat out from the table, the same one she had only just sat down at.

"I see breakfast is milk and cereal with a side of accusations," Tristan snapped back. "Why can't you ever just ask a question without accusing me of something first?"

Julian saw this as his chance to intervene. "It's not that, Tristan, it's just that the raccoons took a chunk out of the garden with it. We just want to know how to prevent this in the future."

Julian could always reason with Tristan, but this time Tristan barely acknowledged him as her sights were already set on fighting with Mike.

"I shouldn't need to accuse you of anything if you had just did what I have been asking of you for months now," Mike interrupted. "It's really simple, Tristan. I don't understand why you can't just do what me and your father have been asking you. It would save me a lot of grey hairs and Julian his vegetable garden."

Tristan nodded and turned to apologize softly to Julian before focusing her attention back on Mike.

"Listen, I didn't know the raccoons would get into it. I was going to come back but I was... on the phone with Leigha," Tristan said, evaluating what she had done wrong that night. "But how was I supposed to know those sneaky little buggers would get into it so fast?"

"My hair is greying by the second, Trist," Mike complained, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What am I supposed to say? I'm sorry. Is that better? I already apologized multiple times for leaving the garbage out," Tristan replied.

Mike looked displeased while Julian got up from the table and tried to usher Tristan to sit back down, but she refused. Even though the argument could be solved by simply allowing both parties to negotiate through their feelings of the events, Tristan couldn't see it that way. She was upset that Mike always wanted something to blame on her. Mike, however, just wanted his daughter to stop yelling at him all the time. No matter how much they argued, they were going in circles.

No matter how many times Julian tried to stop the two from escalating their argument, they continued to chirp at each other. Mike was tired of Tristan's behaviour, especially towards him. He felt disrespected in his own right. Tristan felt as though Mike was becoming too busy to care about her since he took on the position in the Emergency Room. His hours went from twelve hour days to sometimes sixteen hours straight before he returned home from work. Tristan was tired of it.

"I cannot do anything about my hours right now, Trist," Mike reiterated for the umpteenth time. "They need me at the hospital."

"And we need you at home!" Tristan snapped. "You keep telling me that we will do stuff together, but we never do because you are too exhausted from working all the time!"

"I'm here now!" Mike yelled back. "But you're in a dumpster fire of a mood every time I am home."

"For good reason," Tristan mumbled.

"For what reason? Because I'm at my wits end. I don't know how to talk to you anymore," Mike said, washing a hand over his face. "I don't know who you are becoming."

That was enough to send Tristan packing for the day, leaving the kitchen without saying another word. If only Mike knew just how hard life had become for Tristan, but he didn't. All he saw was the after-effects of the terrors that Tristan was facing, seeing only the behaviours that had developed because of what had occurred through the day.

Tristan grabbed her lunch before exiting the house, keys in hand to Julian's car. Julian was letting her borrow his car because she couldn't afford one of her own since quitting her after school job. She had enough money pocketed to pay for gas and car insurance, but not enough to buy her own car. Julian felt that not having a car at Tristan's age was limiting her from valuable high school experiences. Little did he know that Tristan was experiencing a whole new version of her last year of high school.

Eyeing the dented bumper on her way past, Tristan got inside of the car and reversed out of the laneway without even looking. Luckily for her there wasn't anyone driving or walking behind the car, that there was no one around to report her lousy driving. This time she was in the clear.

As Tristan drove to school she turned on the radio and blasted it at full volume like she did most mornings, except this time she was completely still as the music played out in the car around her. She could barely focus her eyes on the road, feeling the prick of tears. Without pulling over, Tristan picked up her speed as she navigated through the suburbs where she had lived most of her life.

Racing around parked cars on either side of the street, Tristan rushed to get to school despite the fact that she knew who was waiting for her there. She didn't care at this point, instead all she could think about was how detached she felt from her dads. Even Julian despite how loving he was towards her. His love was unconditional, that much Tristan knew, and yet she couldn't seem to accept it when she needed it the most.

As the music blared through the car speakers, shaking the mirrors and vibrating against the windows, Tristan drove maniacally towards her destination. She knew better than to act so immaturely, and yet she couldn't help but feel the pain more than her common sense. She wanted to escape the feelings that consumed her.

Then, out of nowhere, the radio shut off. Tristan's eyes darted down to the volume knob, reaching down to spin it a few times with no success. Cursing under her breath, Tristan smacked the radio a few times in hopes that that would help somehow. Without any warning, the radio chimed out as loudly as the speakers would go:

Esme.

Tristan let go of the steering wheel for a split second to reach up for her ears, letting go just at the right time. The car sped down the street at an alarming rate, nearly hitting a few parked cars on the way but Tristan managed to reach down in time to correct the steering wheel. Her ears were throbbing in pain now from the sudden voice that had come through over her radio, deciding to pull over to safety as soon as she could.

When the car was pulled over, barely in park, Tristan unbuckled herself from her seat and exited the car while palming at her ears. The pain was nearly unbearable, trying to collect herself at the side of the road. Nothing had felt as bad as her ears had in those first few minutes, the pain reverberating inside of her head like the worst headache Tristan ever had.

As soon as she was able to collect herself, Tristan headed back for the car where she could sit down. She didn't know why Esme's name had been called out over the radio, especially at such an alarming volume. Whatever the reason was was not good enough for Tristan. She was sick of Esme already and she barely knew her.

But what Tristan couldn't seem to get out of her head after that was the last thing that Esme had said to her. It sent chills down Tristan's spine at the very thought. Esme had told Tristan she could kill Twila for her. This nearly made Tristan sick, overcome with nausea for a few minutes. Tristan had no idea what the God was capable of and she wasn't willing to find out. If Esme was able to heal Tristan's hand so easily, how easily would she be able to do the opposite?

Fearing the worst, Tristan knew she had to get the God to leave her alone once and for all.