The following Monday the whole school was abuzz talking about Tristan, how their hero had left them, he was their god, their king, what he did they did, they all loved him, yet she knew she'd known him better in the short amount of time they'd spent together than those who'd grown up with him.

That didn't fill the void that had over taken her. She still felt empty inside, especially when she'd allow her mind to dwell upon him. She'd seen him come back to her in a dozen different ways. She saw him just standing in the hallway with his friends, she could see herself go to him and kiss him softly on the lips, they'd hug, then he'd turn her around and they'd all talk.

When she was home, she could hear the doorbell, see herself rise from the couch and he'd be there in his new uniform with that porcupine hair buzzed off and she'd hug him like she'd wanted to the other night. She could see herself in college running into him in class and they'd get a cup of coffee and he'd realize she was still the girl for him. God she saw them all grown up running into each other.

God but the worst was her dream last night, she saw Tristan in a church he was getting married and she assumed that she was staring at herself until the veil was lifted and it was Paris. God if she saw Paris today she was going to kill her.