14.

While Tristan slept peacefully through the night, Esme stayed on guard the entire time. Her eyes would begin to close only long enough before she would catch herself, waking up. She couldn't sleep no matter how much her earthly flesh wanted her to. Gods may not require the same functions as humans do, but they do need rest. Esme was no exception.

When Tristan woke the next morning, finally getting a restful night's sleep, her first thought wasn't Esme. Instead, she was thoughtless as she stretched out in bed, squirming her body around in relaxed delight. She hadn't slept that good in months, maybe even a year now. It seemed that whatever had happened throughout Tristan's days would often catch up to her at night, leaving her feeling restless and unable to sleep.

It wasn't entirely Tristan's fault, either. Having a select group of people targeting her day in and day out only made her more paranoid, always wondering what they would do to her next. Not to mention it was a burden that, up until now, she was carrying alone.

Up until Esme.

Tristan snapped up from her bed, scanning the room as she realized Esme wasn't beside her. Instead, Esme was curled up in Tristan's desk chair, her nose pressed into a book as she read. Tristan thought about interrupting, but decided against it when she realized how silly it was of her to be worried about a God. Esme was fine, Tristan reminded herself, and she could take care of herself very well. Yet Tristan felt protective of her new found God, unsure of how she would be able to protect Esme in any capacity other than believing in her to keep her awake.

Flopping back into bed, Tristan let out a sigh as she felt relief sink in. This must have alerted Esme, as she put her book down so that she could get up from the chair to cross the room. She hovered at the edge of the bed, waiting for Tristan to direct her attention onto her. Tristan yawned a few times before finally addressing Esme, smiling at her as she whispered good morning.

"Your parents left early this morning," Esme announced. "I hope you don't mind that I helped myself to the left-overs in the fridge."

"I was hoping you would. They didn't see you, right?" Tristan asked, a little paranoid at the thought of her dads finding out.

Esme sat down on the edge of the bed, shaking her head as she did. "I made sure they were long gone before I set foot outside of this room."

Tristan eyed the clock, seeing that she had a little over forty-five minutes to get ready for school before the bus came. She didn't want to get out of bed, sluggishly pulling herself to the side near Esme. She let her feet dangle at the side of the bed, stretching her arms out before Esme, too, stifled a yawn.

"Did you manage to get any sleep at all last night?" Tristan asked.

"Sleep, who needs her!" Esme joked. "I am a God, after all. I think I'll be okay."

"You sure?" Tristan persisted.

"Positive," Esme replied. She let out a dreamy sigh, as if she was content with her decision not to get any sleep that night. She quickly changed the subject. "We've both got a big day ahead. I'm looking forward to seeing Twila's face when we show up together."

Tristan shrank at the thought. She didn't want to imagine what Twila was going to think when the two of them walked onto campus together, neither one really sure what to anticipate. Whereas Esme had her thoughts of grandeur, welcoming the idea of more potential believers taking notice of them. Exposure was a good thing for Esme, not so much for Tristan.

But things were about to drastically change for Tristan now that she had a God on her side.

The two readied themselves for the day as a palpable excitement filled them both. Tristan hopped out of bed and headed to her closet to find an outfit, thumbing through the clothes that were hung behind a shuttered sliding door. She didn't have much that she felt comfortable in despite Julian making a concentrated effort to find new clothes for the school year that Tristan would wear. Tristan was flattered that, as always, Julian bought her clothes. He styled her well, that much she could admit. But, what she didn't admit, was that she felt more like how Julian wanted to perceive her and not her true identity. Sure, she appreciated that he caved and bought her a few hooded sweat shirts. But that didn't make up for the button up blouses he would submit her to.

Tristan turned around to see what Esme wanted to wear, but Esme looked a bit taken aback by Tristan's outfits. Tristan had to remind herself that Esme was still under the belief that women wore dresses and men wore pants. Fifty years had passed after-all. And, despite the fact that Tristan was sure women were wearing pants for longer than history wanted to admit, it was still taboo in Esme's mind.

The only dresses that Tristan had to offer for Esme's viewing pleasure were some sun dresses she had worn to the slew of weddings her dad's had forced her to go to before high school started. They would still fit larger than usual on Esme, considering the size difference, but Esme wasn't in the position to be picky.

Displaying the dresses for Esme, Tristan reassured her that they would go shopping at some point. Tristan would ask for her allowance early if she had to. Esme, picked up by this gesture, chose a dress from the few that Tristan had available. The two turned their backs to each other to change into their clothes.

Once they were dressed, they headed downstairs. Tristan went first to be sure that no one had decided to sneak back home to check on her, which had once been a thing that Julian would do. It was a phase that Tristan was glad had faded out. Luckily, Julian hadn't returned from his commute to work.

They headed into the kitchen to grab a light breakfast. The clock was ticking down until the bus would arrive, honking its horn to announce that it had arrived. Tristan grabbed her book bag beside the door, while Esme remained empty-handed. Tristan reminded herself that a God didn't need a backpack, or even textbooks for that matter. She found the idea intriguing, wishing that she, too, could walk onto the bus empty-handed.

The bus came all too soon, before Tristan could finish downing her half-frozen waffle that, if she was being honest, tasted a little freezer burnt. She grabbed Esme by the arm, toting her down the hallway to the front door where she promptly stopped them both.

"You really sure you want to risk being seen with me?" Tristan asked.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" Esme replied.

Tristan smirked at Esme, whose brown eyes looked brighter than usual in that moment. For a second, Tristan swore she could see Esme begin to glow. But, it faded as soon as the bus chirped out another unruly honk. Tristan shook off whatever feeling her stomach was succumbing to, clearing her throat as she prepared herself for whatever the future brought with a God by her side.

Protection, Tristan hoped. She wanted to be free from her bullies and the lies they were spreading. More importantly, she wanted to be set free from Twila and Hasson. With Esme's help, maybe those hopes could become a reality.

Tristan hopped onto the first step of the bus like she was comfortable with doing so, even though she had never really been one to take the bus. Julian had driven her to school for many years before she got her own driver's license. But, due to her carelessness, Tristan could no longer use Julian's car. Now, she had to pretend that she was okay with taking the school bus.

Esme, however, didn't seem to care either way. She was happy to follow behind Tristan, introducing herself to the bus driver quickly as she passed. The bus driver had to do a double-take when he realized who Esme was, or, for that matter, what Esme was.

Tristan wanted to ask Esme how it felt to be adored simply for existing, but was cut-off by a guy letting out an excited holler upon sight of Esme. There weren't too many students on the bus, just a few scattered amongst the back seats. The few who were on the bus so far had all taken notice of Esme, immediately perking up as the two girls took their seats near the middle of the bus, close together so they could chat amongst themselves.

"Hey, are you Esme the God?" The excited guy asked, now hanging over the seat in front of Esme and Tristan.

"What's it matter to you?" Tristan growled. She didn't realize how hard it was not to break character.

"Calm down, Merrifield. We just want to get to know your God," The guy said, who Tristan recognized as Matt Byers.

Esme seemed flattered by the attention she was receiving. She reached out her hand to introduce herself to Matt. Tristan rolled her eyes at the gesture, but knew that she had to get over her own antisocial ways in order to get through the senior year.

Matt graciously took Esme's hand in his, placing one small, yet overly prolonged, kiss on the top of her hand. Esme blushed and gently took her hand back. Meanwhile, Tristan couldn't help but feel like a third-wheel.

"Thanks for coming to introduce yourself," Esme said, as sweet as honey. "But, if you don't mind, I want to enjoy the bus ride with my friend."

"Certainly," Matt replied, straightening up from the back of the seat. "Just don't forget about me. Maybe we can sit together at lunch and get to know each other. How's that?"

Esme nodded. Mostly because she wanted Matt to go away and she wasn't about to say that outright. Tristan wanted to, but Esme stopped her before she had any say in the matter. Again, Tristan felt oddly protective of Esme rather than the other way around. Everyone wanted a piece of the Esme pie, it seemed.

Matt shot Esme a big smile before he hopped off the seat in front of them, heading back to his own seat. Tristan sighed as soon as Matt was out of earshot, turning to Esme.

"Is it always like this? Everyone wanting your attention all the time?" Tristan asked.

Esme shrugged.

"I have gotten used to it."

Tristan wasn't sure how someone could get used to the kind of attention that Esme drew. When Tristan looked over her shoulder at the students who could be heard talking about Esme, she found herself laughing when they all looked away as soon as they met Tristan's eyes. Now that was a first.

Tristan leaned over closer to Esme so that no one could overhear what she was about to say, in fear that maybe someone would figure out their agenda.

"Do you really think people will leave me alone if I'm with you?" Tristan questioned.

Esme smirked as she peeked up over the seat to look back at the students. She settled back into her seat soon after, seemingly satisfied with what she had seen.

"I think it's already working," Esme replied, contented in herself. "People will respect you because they respect me. And, well, it helps that I have my charms about me."

"Not to sound rude, but what charms might those be?" Tristan asked.

"Most people are aching for something --- someone to believe in. You'd be surprised how easily susceptible people are to a God," Esme explained, keeping her voice low enough so that only Tristan could hear her. "I'm the band-aid most people require to feel better about themselves."

"What about someone as defiant as Twila?"

Esme chuckled.

"Even Twila has a weakness to me," Esme said, confidently. "She's an easy fix, trust me."

Tristan wanted to trust what Esme had in store for Twila. But, at the same time, she hoped that it meant Twila would go back to being herself and not this new version that scarcely reminded Tristan of the girl she once knew --- the girl she once loved. Tristan tried to choke down her heartbreak the best she could.

The bus rolled onto campus alongside the others, parking out front of the red brick school building. One by one the students departed the bus, their mouths full of gossip and wonder. Tristan hopped off of the bus before Esme, but the second that Esme came into view of the amassing crowd around the bus stop, the crowd began calling out for her attention like she was some sort of celebrity.

Esme stopped to smile and wave, but hooked her arm with Tristan's instead of staying behind to talk with everyone. Proudly, she walked arm-in-arm with Tristan towards the front steps of the main building. Esme was enjoying being the center of attention. Meanwhile Tristan felt like she was walking around with a big bullseye on her back.

Tristan couldn't help but look over her shoulder to see the gawking expressions of her classmates. As she did, she noticed they all had one look in common: Jealousy. They were seething with jealousy at the idea of Tristan being Esme's favourite.

Somehow, in a weird way, it was similar to Tristan's time with Twila. There was always a power imbalance between them, which made people question Twila as to why she wasn't with someone closer to her own caliber. Tristan had always been made to feel inferior.

Yet, now as a similar scenario played out with Esme, Tristan couldn't help but wonder how big that bullseye was on her back. And, more importantly, how many people saw it as a target. Maybe this plan could backfire on Tristan, she wondered.

Regardless, there was no going back now. Esme pushed the front doors open, swinging wide as if the wind had forced them open. The students all stopped in their tracks to take note of Esme, succumbing to her physical charms as a smile rose up on her face.

The two girls stood in the threshold of the school, eyeing the other students that were now wondering what was going on. Sure enough, like a tide brings the weeds from the depths of the ocean, Twila appeared from the crowd. Her deep, dark eyes peered into Tristan's, that same seething jealousy coming off of her. Tristan knew then that whatever Esme had planned better work.