Shadow Dancer (The Shadow Series Book 1) (2 page)

“Morrow, Blake – Uncle.”

“Morrow....”

Tristan and Tommy began to form a 'w' on their lips when Kendricks loudly proclaimed, “Thomas...Father.”

Under Tommy's breath, he mumbled, “There's a project I won't be handing in!”

Tristan turned around in her chair, scolding her brother, “You have to! If you fail this class again, Dad is going to have a fit!”

“Morrow, Tristan – Mother.”

You could hear a pin drop.

When the words escaped his lips, Tristan did not quite know how to react. Pale as a ghost, she dropped her pencil onto her desk as she glared at the teacher with a gaping mouth. How on earth was that supposed to work? Tristan had a ninety-eight average in Kendricks’ class. She would have to manage somehow. Quickly, her arm shot into the air, in an attempt to catch Mr. Kendricks’ attention. Kendricks, seeing her raised arm, protested with sheer agitation.

"Miss Morrow, can't this wait until after class?
!" He said her last name as if it was the name of a particularly nasty disease.

"It has to do with the assignment," explained Tristan.

Disgust clear on his face, Kendricks replied, "Very well. What is it?"

Tristan explained, "I believe that there must be some kind of mistake. The person you assigned
me... I have no way of contacting them."

Suddenly, Kendricks’ face changed. Something hidden came to light on his typically smug face. Tommy thought he witnessed the teacher release a smirk.

Kendrick replied, “I guess that is where your inner investigator will need to take charge."

Kendrick immediately diverted his eyes back to his clipboard and by doing so, effec
tively closed the conversation.

“
O’Mara, Patricia- Sister.”

“Which one… I have like a hundred…”

“Angela.”

“
Shit
. I don’t even know her…” Trixie complained.

“I suggest to
get
to know her then!” Bernard yelled.

“
Piedmonte, Cole – Mother,” Bernard said to Cole Piedmonte, Tristan’s boyfriend.

"But-" protested Cole.

"Mother, I said," interrupted Kendricks firmly.

As Kendricks continued to distribute the rest of the assignments to the class, Tommy tapped his younger sister on her shoulder. She turned around to see her brother with an emotion on his face that she once thought was foreign to his heart: concern.

"Don't do it," said Tommy.

"I have to. He's not going to like this one bit," replied Tristan, worry clear on her face. While her
brothers were given relatives that play an active part in their lives, Tristan's assignment would not be quite so easy. It just so happened that Tristan was required to write her assignment about someone she never knew: Her mother.

***

Tristan’s temper was
still quite heated as she attempted to work on the assignment, and it showed no signs of wavering.

A pair of heavy footsteps in the hallway
jarred her concentration.

“Tristan!” called a deep voice from beyond the solid bedroom door.

Hoping to ignore the interruption, Tristan continued to glare at her computer monitor. The voice was joined by another.

“Open the door!” yelled Tommy from outside the bedroom door.

Tristan growled under her breath. “Is one hour too much to ask?” she asked quietly to herself. From the other side of the door, Tommy complained again, “But it’s
my
bedroom!”
Tristan slowly opened the bedroom door as a scowl formed on her face. “Yes…?” Tristan said through her teeth, not giving her visitor the courtesy of a warm welcome. It was her brother, Tommy, and her cousin, Shane, who were blanketed from head to toe in mud. Their weather-beaten cleats hung over their shoulders. In the shadow of the hall, Cole stood waiting with a shy smile on his face. He winked at Tristan and she blushed, trying to hide her embarassment from her brother and cousin.
"Doing that assignment?" asked Shane with an inquisitive smirk.
 

"Of course. I can't just not do it," remarked Tristan.
 

"Well, while you're at it," Tommy suggested, as he reached into his mud-caked backpack and pulled out a notebook that was in even worse condition.
 

"No! Absolutely not! It is hard enough to write my own," replied Tristan, exasperated as Tommy and Shane jump back in surprise.
 

"Oh? But why? Is it because I put your laundry basket on the roof?" asked Tommy with a sincere look on his face.

Tristan stood with one hand on the door, while covering her face with the other as laughter began to explode from her. Against her greatest wishes, a smile formed across her face as she remembered her school uniform that was drenched unforgivingly after being left outside during a particularly brutal rain storm.
"As much as I hated you that day, this is not about that. You have a brain of your own. You do it," retorted Tristan.

Tommy stared back at her, "I have to think of a thousand words to write about Dad. Do you know how hard that is?"

“Easier than writing a thousand on our mother!” Tristan reminded him.

“Yeah… I’ll give you that…”

Tristan smirked at her older brother and pinched his cheek, "I'm sure you'll manage... and you, Shane! I would love to be able to write an essay on Aunt Bridgette. Give me a break! You better hold some interviews and get your quotes!"

Doing her best impression of Mr. Kendricks, Tristan pushed her nose into the air pompously, and spoke in her best snooty voice, "This is where your inner investigator will come into play!"
Quickly, Tristan turned on her barefoot heel to bid the pair adieu as a boisterous banging sounded from the kitchen, a floor below. A wooden spoon banged against a metal pot, the clattering noise repeating over and over again. As the drumming song ceased, the loud cry of a female’s voice called from the first floor landing.
"Dinner! Get it while it's hot!"
No longer face to face with Tommy and Shane, she watched as their dirty socks left massive smudged on the carpet all the way down the hall. The mess cascaded down two flights of winding steps, the boys remarkably like a herd of elephants stampeding throughout the house.

"I told you she wouldn't do it!" said Shane gruffly to Tommy as they clambered down the steps.

The boy who stood in the shadows looked up and smiled at Tristan. Quietly, he closed the distance between them.

“Hey, Cole…” Tristan said softly.

Cole smiled, his sweet face lighting up every time he saw her. He leaned in to kiss her, but she cut him short, putting her hand on his chest.

“What if my father sees?!”

Cole shrugged.

“You know he’ll go ballistic…”

“I’ll meet you at the lake later, then…” Cole said with a mischevous smile on his face.

“Okay…” Tristan said smiling back.

Then, without warning, Cole kissed her. A quick peck on her lips, and before she could protest, he was retreating down the hall with an amused look on his face.

"Did someone say dinner?" asked Blake as he poked his head out of the bedroom doorway.
Tristan was blushing and Blake stared at his sister with a bewildered look on his face.

“What’s up with you?” he asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Nothing… Mind your business!” Tristan said as she made her way down the hallway.

At the sound of the dinner call, Blake's bored expression turned into a look of eagerness. Although he appeared to be just skin and bones, Blake had a notoriously large appetite that could rarely be squelched. Tristan nodded with a smirk on her face as the pair walked down to the dining room together.
Hungry members of the household quickly grabbed their places around the long dining room table. A mountain of a man with a gruff manner sat down at the head of the table without saying a word. His faded flannel shirt of red and black squares was covered in dust from working in the fields. A blue trucker hat donned his head, covering up his salt and pepper wavy hair. Beneath the brim of the hat was a weathered, yet handsome face that provided neither smile nor comfort. Jack was not having a good day.

Tristan and Blake were among the last to arrive at the table and were met with a perturbed
glare from their father, which prompted them to quickly take their seats. From the kitchen, another obnoxious metallic clattering caused Jack to raise his eyebrow towards the white kitchen door. Wearily, he returned his focus to the children that were sitting at his dining room table, his children, nephew, and the sorely out of place Cole Piedmonte. Jack cleared his throat indicating that he required silence.

In a hoarse voice he spoke, "I received a call from Kendricks today."
From around the table groans sounded from eight voices of varying octaves. Jack stared at his family as he watched the many different reactions to his simple statement and smirked in spite of himself. Tristan rolled her eyes profusely at the sound of her teacher’s name, Tommy and Shane raised their fists in rage. Blake was so overcome with annoyance that he curled his lip up in distaste, as if he smelled something that was truly offensive. Tommy, in an attempt to distract Jack from the task at hand, created a diversion.
"I didn't mean to throw his keys out the window! It was a jerk reflex! Look it up," said Tommy slyly, as he was met with a disbelieving stare from his father.

"Give it up. He didn't mention anything about keys. This is about homework."

The jig was up. Tristan anxiously bit her lower lip as she prepared for the worst. Two chairs slid out from the table as Jack’s eldest sons Adam and Liam, ages twenty and eighteen, attempted to exit the room. Jack’s eyes tracked his oldest sons from across the table, and squinted with disdain.

"Where do you two think you're going?" asked Jack, sounding perplexed and annoyed.

Adam, quick with a charming smile, turned to his father and replied, “I graduated two years ago. Don't you remember? You were there."

Mea
nwhile, Liam answered simply, "Iced tea.”

With irritation clear in his voice, Jack barked "Sit it down. I didn't excuse you from my table."

Liam and Adam exchanged a look indicative of, "What the hell did we do now?"
Jack scratched his head in disgust as he began to speak again. “Like I was saying, I received a call from Mr. Kendricks today. Why am I being told that none of you children ever hand in a certain assignment for his class?”
Jack’s eyes peered over his glasses as he surveyed the room for answers.
"You two,” Jack said as he pointed his fingers into the chests of Blake and Tommy, who had the misfortune of sitting on either side of him, "Are in danger of being put on academic probation... again! You are in the same English class as your younger sister! Don't you think that is a problem? Do the damn assignment. Or else."
Tommy began to open his mouth, but was interrupted by a large, calloused hand over his mouth. “Please, anyone but Tommy… Thomas, shut up,” growled Jack.

From the opposite side of Jack, Blake stood up. Though typically mild mannered, Blake spoke to his father with a firm and direct tone. “I will not do it, and you cannot make me.”

Jack, surprised by  the firmness in Blake’s voice replied, “Yes, you will, you
all
will, for the sheer fact that if I receive another progress report or failing report card from that school, you all will be cleaning out the barn instead of playing football or whatever it is you people do for fun.”

“I don’t play football,” Blake retorted snidely.

“I prefer hockey,” remarked Tristan. Frustrated, she asked, “Do you even know what the assignment was about?”
All at once, voices overpowered one another, fingers pointed across the table, faces turned from worry to utter annoyance. Tristan remained still with her arms crossed as she peered around at her dysfunctional family. Using two fingers, Tristan a whistle sounded from her lips.

"Dad, I asked you a question. Do you even know what the assignment was?"

Cheers and comments from the others in the room called out in response to Tristan’s question. Jack quickly responded, “Shouldn’t matter. Homework is homework. The reason they failed last year is because they didn't hand in this particular assignment. I know I won't have this problem with you. I never have this problem with you.”
Tristan’s eyes began to water as rage began to quake inside of her. “No matter what I hand in for this particular project, it will not be good enough for him!”

"What do you mean? You have a near perfect average."

"The subject is not something I know anything about, and it is not something that is easily researched."

"Kendricks didn't mention that. Okay, I'll bite. What was the assignment?"

Tristan broke her glare from her father, as Blake cleared his throat.

“Create a detailed biography on a family member. Kendricks assigned
each of us a family member to
investigate
and write an in-depth history about. Tristan was assigned Mother. We don't want to complete the assignment to support Tristan.”
Jack looked taken aback, as he gulped down air. He was not expecting this. Jack had assumed the project was a report for a book no one wanted to read. Words would not come to his mouth. He stared blankly as his children stared back at him, angry and confused looks all directed towards him.
"Kendricks said that this project makes or breaks the quarter. I told the others to do theirs so they wouldn't get into trouble," informed Tristan.
Jack stared quite blankly at Tristan, no emotion could be read on his face which caused Tristan’s cheeks to flush.