Love Thy Neighbor

Chapter 9

Avoiding looking Tristan straight on for the rest of the day was nearly impossible. Actively avoiding eye contact actually might have been worse than just telling him what had happened because now he's dragging me on another "date".

Which I would be happy to do, get my brain working again on something productive, except he said we're using the majority of the time to actually be a couple and not work on our plan for The Underground. Our priorities are clearly not the same right now.

Due to the storm, the only place we could really go to outside of our homes was the mall. The mall that's right outside of our small town also has a movie theater inside of it, so Tristan insisted that we watch something that was playing before walking around. The weather seemed to give many others the same idea, so not even half an hour after the last bell rang so I find myself sitting next to Tristan in a completely full movie theater with a bucket of popcorn on my lap.

I'm not really watching the movie even though I picked it out. In all honesty, I just pointed to an option randomly because I just wanted to get through this part of our "date" so we can focus on what's really important. I was starting to worry Tristan might try to ask me about what I thought of the movie or quiz me on it, something a regular couple might do after a regular date, but then realized he wasn't watching the movie either. He was watching me the whole time, concern painted across his face. But he didn't say anything the entire time. He would just squeeze my hand from time to time, expecting a squeeze back. Which I did, but not with as much force as he would give me. The whole runtime of the movie I was busy mentally crossing off ideas on the list of potential business strategies we could use as part of our proposal.

When the movie ends, we file out of the theater with the rest of the crowd, our silence contrasting with the post-movie chatter of others. I toss my barely eaten popcorn in the trash on the way out back into the rest of the mall. Tristan didn't question my lack of appetite, which was a huge discussion just last week when we were all coming down from the peak of the whole situation at the carnival.

Hand in hand, we walk through the second floor of the mall, a portion of the crowd doing the same as others exit the building entirely. The warm bodies start to feel too close, the humidity in the mall amplified by the rain being brought in by other patrons. I tug on Tristan, trying to separate us from the rest of the crowd so I can breathe. He just looks at me, but still doesn't say anything.

Even though I've made quite some distance from the other movie-goers, there's still a few people that cling close, seemingly trying to create distance from the crowd as well. I pull Tristan into the next store on our right and feel like I can finally relax a little bit.

"Sorry," I apologize, looking Tristan in the eye for the first time today. "I was feeling a little claustrophobic in that crowd. There were too many people there and, oh I don't know, it might seem crazy, but recently I don't like not knowing exactly who is around me." I wasn't planning on admitting that, but it's the truth. The carnival had made it so difficult to keep track of everyone, and now with Carter lurking around town, I always have this creeping anxious feeling sticking to my bones. I figure it's better Tristan knows why I'm acting like this rather than trying to takes guess and fix it all on his own.

"I know," he says. Of course he does. "I was just waiting for you to say something. You need to tell me these things, not only because I want you to feel comfortable doing that especially with everything going on around us, but also because as much as I don't want to admit it, I've been a little distracted lately. I know you have been, too, but we need to look out for ourselves by telling the other one what's going on."

I hate that he's right.

"And I know that you hate that I'm right," he smirks a little bit at me. I roll my eyes. "Finally! A normal Leila reaction!" he exclaims quietly, kissing the top of my head. "Now, let's find you a snack. I noticed you didn't eat your popcorn."

"So much for being distracted," I grumble to myself as Tristan leads me towards the food court.

Despite Tristan's close tab keeping on my eating habits and basically everything else happening around us lately, refuting his claim about not paying attention as much as he used to, he didn't seem to notice the two people who walked out of the theater and into the same store as us. And are now heading towards the food court, a few paces behind us.

***

They're sitting a few tables behind us in the food court with their own meals. I have barely touched my fries and that seems to be Tristan's main concern right now. He keeps slowly pushing them closer to me, so much so that I had to tell him to stop otherwise they would end up falling off the table and into my lap.

But how can I eat when there's a nagging feeling telling me we should leave? Those two people being around us since after the movie could just be a coincidence. It seems like everyone from town is at the mall right now, so it could just be my unusually high anxiety. But then again, everyone from town is here. That could include Carter, Katy, and even Brian.

I open my mouth to say something to Tristan, but before I get the chance he stands up abruptly. Without missing a beat, he comes to my side and guides me out of my chair by my elbow. Discarding my, once again, uneaten snack in the trash, he leads me away from the food court. Once we're a good distance away, I start to turn my head to see if the two people have started following us.

"Don't," Tristan commands, still leading me through the mall. "And don't make a comment about me not being distracted like I said I was. I am not as sharp as I was a few weeks ago, but this was obvious." He steers us into a darker store, the main source of light coming from the machines with neon signs. The arcade.

Various noises from the different games resonate around the small space, and in combination with the flashing lights and children running around, make the room feel smaller than it is.

"What are we doing in here?" I finally ask.

"Confronting them," Tristan answers, deadpan.

"Are you crazy?" I respond frantically. "We should leave! What if they're dangerous?"

"They aren't."

I'm about to question how he could possibly know that with such confidence when I spot the two figures at the entrance of the arcade. I half expect Tristan to stand in front of me as they make their approach, but he doesn't. What the hell is going on?

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?" Tristan asks the two people who have stopped a few feet in front of us in a low voice. "You're freaking out Leila."

I squint my eyes, trying to figure out why these two look so familiar. The taller one has sandy hair and brown puppy dog eyes, but is still intimidating. The shorter of the two has a more brooding, dark look to him. I'm still wracking my brain to remember who these two guys are when the taller one speaks.

"Tristan, don't be mad, but-"

"Now why would I be mad, Logan?" Tristan asks, narrowing his eyes. Logan and Oliver! My brain flashes back to my first day at school when Nicole pointed at Tristan's lunch table, the one he used to sit at with Logan and Oliver. I also remember them being at The Underground the same night some creepy dude tried to corner me. None of this happened too long ago, so why haven't I seen them around that much.

"Luke is really going to cut our pay now," Oliver, the shorter, dark haired one mumbles.

"Luke?" I ask in utter bewilderment. "As in my uncle?"

"Dude!" Logan elbows his friend. "They aren't supposed to know."

"They aren't supposed to know we've been following them either," Oliver points out.

"Leila, we're leaving," Tristan grabs my hand tightly and pushes past his two friends. "You both can expect a text from me later regarding how idiotic you two have been."

Tristan fumes all the way back to his car. He doesn't even care that he's getting soaked in the storm, but stopped long enough to give me his sweatshirt to keep me warm. We sit in the car in silence while it heats up. I can see the gears turning in his head as he stares out the windshield, clenching his jaw. I fumble with the string on his hoodie, knowing better than to interrupt whatever debate he's having with himself right now.

Finally, he shifts the car into drive and pulls out of the parking lot, heading back towards town. The ride back is completely silent except for the rain beating down on the car and the road.