And all because of Tristan. They were also the hardest, for the same reason. I’d thought he would grow tired of me, find someone else. Someone he could publicly date. Like Bethany Brookes, who was constantly coming over to flirt with him at every freakin’ practice. But even though he was polite, he never gave her much attention. Whatever his reasons for being with me, Tristan found ways to make it work for us, from secret dinners and dancing in the Charmers practice room after hours, to sweet notes left in my locker when he delivered the Charmers game-day good-luck notes. And of course we could always count on dream connecting, which we did at least twice a week. On every date, real and dreamed, he managed to pull me out of my shell. I’d never been much of a talker before, preferring to listen to others. But something about the way Tristan looked at me just drove me to chatter. Maybe talking was my way of fighting the urge to kiss him all the time, which tended to make him shaky on real dates and completely end our connected dreams.
