Slayers: Friends and Traitors (15 page)

The players emerged from the locker room, done with whatever pep talk or lecture their coach had given them. They strolled over to talk to the people at the edge of the field. She caught sight of Dirk in the back of the group, talking with another player. His helmet was off and his shaggy blond hair was dark with sweat. Grass smudges and dirt covered his arms and uniform. She stared at him, drinking him in. Even dirty he was utterly handsome.

Tori looked toward the parking lot. The manager of La Niçoise Café would probably tell Dirk that a girl came by and asked for him, but Tori could leave before he found out that she had gone to his high school. He was nearly to where she stood. She moved a little farther behind the cluster of parents so she wouldn’t be visible.

The lanky blonde cheerleader swept up to Dirk and gave him a hug. “You played a great game,” she cooed. “You should have won.”

“Thanks.” He gave her a quirk of a smile and kept walking down the field.

He hadn’t seen Tori yet. His gaze was trained on some people a few yards to her left. She glanced at them and then quickly glanced away. It didn’t matter. The image stayed in her mind.

A middle-aged man with smooth dark hair stood next to a beautiful brunette woman. The man had to be Dirk’s father. He had the same height and build as Dirk, the same face shape. The woman didn’t look old enough to be his mother. She must have been, though, since she had her arm looped through his father’s arm. She wore a form-fitting black coat with white fur trim and a matching hat—probably bought at some chic skiing villa somewhere. An elementary-aged girl waited beside them. She had long brown hair like her mother and waved excitedly at Dirk.

Tori had seen Dirk’s family. This visit just kept getting worse. Why hadn’t she realized his family would be here? That was the sort of thing families did.

Tori would draw attention to herself if she turned and bolted off the field now. She would let Dirk walk over to his family and then she would drift downfield to an exit. No one had to know about this unfortunate incident.

Dirk kept his gaze on his family. His father called out, “If your coach had let you play offense
and
defense, you would have won.” He had an accent, a familiar one, although Tori couldn’t place it. British maybe or South African.

“Yeah,” Dirk called back. “What’s up with the coach letting other people have playtime?” He was walking by Tori. She lowered her head as far as she could while still keeping an eye on him.

The smile dropped from his face and he abruptly stopped walking. “Tori,” he said. His gaze swung to the bleachers behind her, searching the groups of stragglers making their way down them.

Tori froze. He had sensed her. She couldn’t hide.

She stepped out from behind the group of parents. “Hi, Dirk.”

He turned to her, surprised.

It felt like a long time—waiting for his surprise to fade and his real reaction to show itself.

He smiled broadly, a smile that lit up his face. “What are you doing here?”

She kept her voice low. “Um … breaking a lot of rules.”

Dirk walked over, still smiling. “I knew you had a rebellious streak.”

“I wanted to talk to you.” She shrugged apologetically. “I didn’t mean to end up here. It just sort of happened.” She knew Dirk’s parents were watching. She felt their gazes. They were probably inwardly groaning that their son had been detained by yet another groupie. “I know you’re busy right now. This was a bad idea to begin with—”

“No,” he said. “It’s okay. What did you need to talk to me about?”

Nothing that she could say in front of a crowd of people. “Your family is waiting for you. I’ll just…” She didn’t finish the sentence. She wasn’t even sure what she meant to say.
I’ll just … talk to you some other time?
She couldn’t.
I’ll just … ask Dr. B to call you again like I should have done in the first place?

“It’s fine,” Dirk said. “Wait here. I’ll explain to my parents.”

He turned to go speak to them. His sister was already bounding over. She had a wide smile and blue eyes like Dirk’s: mischievous blue. She flung her arms around her brother. “You won!” she chimed.

He patted her shoulder. “Actually we lost. Thanks for paying attention.”

Mrs. Everett strolled over. “Bridget, don’t. He’s filthy.” She grimaced at the way Bridget clung to Dirk’s sweaty jersey and mud streaked pants.

Bridget let go. “I thought you won. You were ahead most of the time. What happened?”

Mr. Everett sauntered over as well. “It doesn’t matter who’s ahead most of the time. It only matters who’s ahead at the end. Unfortunately, tonight that wasn’t your brother.” Mr. Everett had been speaking to Bridget, but he smiled at Tori, waiting for an introduction.

“Dad,” Dirk said, and there was a twinge of nervousness in his voice. “This is Tori. A friend of mine.”

“Ah yes.” Mr. Everett held out his hand to shake hers. “From camp.”

Tori shook his hand and blushed. He knew she was from camp. Which meant he knew her as that pathetic fan girl who kept sending letters to Dirk at his restaurant. And now she’d shown up at Dirk’s football game. This probably earned her stalker status. No wonder Mrs. Everett wore an expression of cold distaste.

Bridget giggled at Tori. “You’re pretty.”

“Thanks,” Tori said. This was so awkward.

Mr. Everett was still staring at Tori with an amused smile. “So what brings you here?”

Well, no one has issued a restraining order yet, so I thought I would show up at random places where your son would be.
“I was in the area,” Tori said.

Please don’t ask me what my father does
, she thought. She didn’t want to say anything that would make Dirk’s parents remember her. She would rather fade in with the ranks of the lanky blonde cheerleader and all of the rest of Dirk’s forgettable groupies.

“Tori and I are going to hang out,” Dirk told his parents. “So you don’t need to wait around for me.”

Mrs. Everett turned to her husband, her eyebrow cocked. “I think we’ve just been dismissed.”

Mr. Everett laughed and put his hand on her shoulder. It was deep and familiar. Or maybe it seemed familiar because there was something of Dirk in it, a sort of private amusement of the situation.

“Don’t take it personally,” he told his wife. “Teenagers are always embarrassed by their parents.” He gave Tori a parting smile. “Pretend you never saw us. We don’t exist.”

Ditto,
she thought.

Dirk’s parents walked toward the parking lot. Bridget turned and waved over her shoulder. “Bye, Tori!” she yelled so loudly that several people looked at her.

Dirk ran a hand through his already mussed hair. “So that was my family.”

“Yeah,” Tori said. “They seem nice.”

“They have their moments.”

Mr. and Mrs. Everett were a few yards away by that time. Tori shouldn’t have been able to still hear their conversation, but her extra sensitive hearing was always at work.

Mrs. Everett said, “That was dangerous. You shouldn’t have talked to her.”

“Quiet,” Mr. Everett said in a low voice. “She’ll hear you.”

A chill went up Tori’s spine. Had Dirk told them about her hearing? What did Mrs. Everett mean by dangerous?

Bridget said, “I’ll hear what? What’s dangerous?”

And then Tori relaxed. Mr. Everett meant Bridget, not Tori. Of course, Dirk hadn’t told them her secrets.

Mr. Everett spoke to Bridget in a teasing way, “You’ll learn when you’re older. It’s always dangerous to talk to girls your son likes.” And then he was too far away for Tori to hear anything else. Which was a good thing, because she needed to pay attention to Dirk. He was looking at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation for her surprise visit.

“I shouldn’t have barged in on you like this,” she said. “Dr. B isn’t going to be happy that I met your family. Or that I know which high school you go to…” She glanced around nervously, as though their camp director might suddenly appear to chastise her. “And I know your last name…”

“We won’t tell him,” Dirk said. “Look, I’ve got to shower and then I’ll be right out.” He took a few steps toward the locker room. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Flee the scene of the crime, you mean?”

“Right,” he said.

“I’ll be here,” she said.

Fifteen minutes later Dirk was opening the door of his car for Tori. A black Porsche. She slid in. It still had that new car smell to it.

Dirk got into the driver’s side, turned on the car, and pulled out of the parking lot. “What?” he asked her. “You keep shaking your head.”

“I was just thinking about all the times you gave me grief for being rich.”

“I never gave you grief for being rich.”

“Yes, you did. One time when we were all running, you shouted, ‘Hey, Hampton, see if you can use your platinum cards to buy some speed.’”

“Leaders are supposed to motivate their followers.”

“If I was the last one out of my cabin in the morning, you yelled, “Get your Diored butt out here.”

“Again, that’s leadership.”

Tori ran her hand over the soft leather seat. “If you give me a hard time at camp next summer, I’m going to out you, rich boy.”

“I never give you a hard time.”

That wasn’t even mildly close to the truth. After Tori and Jesse had started seeing each other, Dirk had ignored her for a solid week and then spent the next week looking for reasons to give her extra work. Jesse finally talked to him about it, and then after that she and Dirk had a truce, which eventually transformed back into a friendship. The last month of camp, Tori only sometimes caught the glimpses of anger Dirk felt about her choosing Jesse over him.

She supposed he had a right to be angry. On the second day of camp when Tori and Dirk discovered they were counterparts, Dirk kissed her. And Tori kissed him back. It was wrong of her, but in her defense, Dirk was gorgeous and an amazing kisser, and she was overwhelmed by the whole counterpart-suddenly-having-a-bond-with-him thing.

She told Dirk afterward that they shouldn’t have done it. And really, she was sure even now that it was just his pride that had been hurt. He wasn’t used to girls choosing his friends over him. Once Dirk kissed a girl, she probably followed him around mesmerized.

And even if Dirk’s feelings for Tori had been more than just a passing whim—well, judging by his eating habits at La Niçoise Café—Dirk had gotten over her quickly.

Outside the car window, the manicured lawns of Winchester went by. Everything looked charmingly colonial. Orderly and safe. “Your mom and dad seem nice,” Tori said.

“Stepmom and dad,” Dirk corrected. “Bridget’s my half sister.”

“Oh.” Tori wanted to ask if he always lived with his dad and where his mom was, but stopped herself. She wasn’t supposed to ask identifying things about another Slayer’s family.

Dirk glanced at her and must have sensed her curiosity. “My mom left my dad when I was six. From what I gather, it wasn’t a real happy marriage before that. My dad told her she could leave and have a generous alimony, but I had to stay with him. I haven’t heard from her since.”

Tori let out an “oh” of condolence. “I’m sorry.” She automatically reached out and put her hand on Dirk’s knee, then dropped it away self-consciously. “Have you ever tried to talk to her?”

“I don’t know where she is, and my dad doesn’t like talking about her. He thinks we’re better off without her.” Dirk said the words evenly, casually. He was closing the subject.

“Do you want to find her? I could help if—”

“It’s really not a big deal,” Dirk cut her off. “I don’t remember much about her.”

“Part of you does,” Tori said, keeping her gaze on him. “That’s probably why you have such a hard time committing to relationships.”

“What?” Dirk’s gaze swung back to her. “Who said I have a hard time committing to relationships?”

“Well, I hear you bring a lot of different girls to La Niçoise.”

Dirk turned his attention back to the road. “That doesn’t mean I have commitment issues. Who have you been talking to, anyway?”

Tori glanced at the passing houses and the streetlamps standing sentinel along the road. She couldn’t tell how close they were to downtown. “That reminds me, you’re not taking me to La Niçoise, are you?” She gave Dirk a pointed look. “I can’t go back to your restaurant. The waitresses already think I’m some pathetic summer fling who can’t get over you.”

A smile played at the corners of Dirk’s lips. “Only the hostesses know about you. I had to come up with a reason I hadn’t given you my phone number.”

Only the hostesses knew about her? Dirk apparently had never realized how gossipy girls were. “Your family knows about me,” Tori reminded him. “Do they call me fan girl, too?”

Dirk reached into his pocket and took out his phone. “This is why my family knows who you are.” He turned it on and handed it to her. The background was a picture of her, snapped unaware. What’s more, she could tell by the topaz studs in her ears it was a picture taken on her first day at camp. She hadn’t worn jewelry after she started training.

Dirk had taken a picture of her before they even found out they were counterparts. That was a surprise. He had only seen her as the pampered new girl back then. “You have my picture?” she said, still staring at it. “We weren’t allowed to take pictures of each other.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re really in a position to lecture me about keeping rules.”

“Probably not since I’m about to break another one.” She dialed her phone number from his phone. Then, when her phone rang, she took it out of her purse and saved his number as a contact. She did the same for him on his phone. “Now we can text each other so your restaurant staff will stop thinking I’m a loser.” Before putting her phone back in her purse, Tori took a picture of Dirk. It only seemed fair since he had one of her.

Dirk drove to the edge of Winchester, away from the homes and streetlamps. The only light now came from Dirk’s headlights. “About the restaurant staff,” he said slowly. “What else did they tell you about me?”

Against her better judgment, Tori flipped through the other pictures on Dirk’s phone. The first was a picture Bridget had taken of herself making a goofy face. “They didn’t tell me much. Just your last name and where you went to school.” The next picture was a redheaded cheerleader, licking her lips. “And you know, the stuff about you being a womanizer.”