AN: So here's my first trory chapter fic. I have a 30+ page trory I'd been working on prior to this and I've seem to hit a block. So my question to you all is should I wait out the block and post the whole thing as a rather long one-shot or shall I break up what I have into chapters and put up another chap fic, updating as I go? If I do the latter, it can be up instantly and I would have enough material for the first few chapters.
And about this particular fic... try not to kill me P
Thanks for reviewing my other fics, it is very much appreciated
Paris was yelling. Surprise, surprise. "Where have you been? You have to get dressed, we're on in ten minutes."
"Can't." Tristan told her. "Actually, my dad had me pulled out of school. He-" Paris stomped off impatiently, "-and is she unhappy. "
"What do you mean he had you pulled out of school? What happened?" Rory had asked him.
"Nothing. Just ticked the old man off, that's all."
"By doing what? Tristan, come on, tell me."
"I got in some trouble."
He told her about breaking into Bowman's dad's safe. He told her how his dad was pissed and was going to enroll him in Military school in North Carolina starting immediately. The girl went into a ramble about how he could apologize and make everything better. As if 'I'm sorry' would help anything at all.
"I don't know what to say."
"Well, I imagine you're overwhelmed with the relief in knowing that soon I will be gone."
"I'm so sorry."
"Well, I'm a big boy. I can handle it."
"There's nothing you can…"
Tristan's dad appeared at the doorway and barked for him, "Tristan, come on."
"I gotta go. So, I might kiss you goodbye but, uh, your boyfriend's watching. Take care of yourself, Mary."
Tristan walked away from the brunette who he knew was watching him leave. Sliding into the car beside his father, the boy sighed and leaned his head against the headrest.
The car pulled away.
"We waited too long. Far too long. Damn it Tristan! You and your insufferable pride!" Tristan's dad was pissed as hell, but not for the reasons he had led people to believe. The anger seeped through every inch of the older man's body but he wasn't angry with his son, not really. A sheen of pain hid under the surface rage as he repeated, "We waited too long."
Tristan wasn't on his way to military school.
He hadn't broken into a safe.
And all those suspensions he had recently? They weren't suspensions.
The car pulled to a stop. The blond squared his shoulders and followed his father into the building that had always scared him as a child. There was no time for any such fear now. There was no time for anything now. This place he hated would be his new home.
"We're checking him in." Mr. Dugrey informed the woman behind the front desk.
"You'll be very comfortable here."
"This won't be that bad, really."
"I'll send someone to check on you in the morning."
All the reassurances did nothing to settle Tristan's stomach. He slipped into the bathroom to change into his new outfit before sliding into the lumpy bed. At least his father's money had done him enough good that he didn't have a roommate.
Tristan shut his eyes and tried to sleep.
He knew he would fail.
The lights and noises of the building buzzed around him, poking at his already throbbing head.
Staring up at the ceiling of Hartford Hospital, Tristan distantly wondered how much it would hurt when he died.