Tris & Izzie by Mette Ivie Harrison

made it halfway down the hall when Mark suddenly pushed me into an empty room. “Nurse!” he warned me. In a few minutes, he pushed me out again and into the elevator. “Whoo! That was fun. You always make me feel like I’m alive.”
    That made me feel terrible. Maybe I should just let him down easy and give up trying to end the love philtre. But it was all so complicated. Anyone who thought magic made things easier had never used magic.
    Luckily, we got to Tristan’s room without further incident. Tristan was asleep, but as soon as I saw him, I wanted to touch him. Mark pushed the wheelchair close to the bed, but I inched it even closer with my feet.
    â€œYou can go now,” I said curtly.
    â€œYou sure you’ll be okay?” said Mark.
    â€œI think Tristan has already proved he can protect me,” I said.
    There was a long silence.
    I could have tried to take it back. On the other hand, maybe it was for the best.
    â€œYeah,” said Mark slowly. “Call me when you need me,” he added as he closed the door. “If you do.”
    As soon as Mark was gone, I focused all my attention on Tristan. He looked sort of yellow, and there were bruises up and down his face, neck, and chest. Maybe below that, too, but I didn’t peek beneath the hospital gown, however tempted I might have been.
    â€œTristan?” I whispered. I put a hand on his arm.
    â€œIsolde,” he said in that beautiful baritone voice of his. Then he opened his eyes and started. “Are you real?” he asked.
    â€œI’m real,” I said. “I’m right here.”
    â€œYou did not die.”
    â€œNo. You saved me. Don’t you remember?” Hadn’t anyone told him? Maybe he hadn’t been awake enough.
    â€œI remember, but I was afraid it was a dream, what I wished had happened. I also remember the slurg eating you, and me coming to you too late. They are very vivid memories, I assure you.” His crisp way of speaking made me melt.
    I wondered about the strange language he had spoken on the day we’d met, not even a week ago. The sound of those words had been so sexy. Maybe I could get him to do that again later.
    â€œWe’re both alive. We’re in the hospital. They thought you were going to die.”
    â€œYou saved me,” he said. “I can taste your magic on my tongue.”
    Don’t go there , I thought. Don’t make me think about your tongue . Just being next to him was hard enough.
    â€œIt was my mom’s magic,” I said. “She gave you a healing potion in the ambulance.” But I remembered she had also asked me to spit into it. At the time, I hadn’t thought I had any magic of my own. “I need to talk to you, Tristan. About why you think you love me.”
    â€œYes?” His eyes were very wide.
    This was my last chance. “I gave you a love philtre. Do you remember that drink? The Sprite bottle on the day we met?”
    â€œYes,” said Tristan. “I remember.”
    â€œWell, it had magic in it.”
    â€œYes. I knew that. I could smell it.”
    What? “Why did you drink it, then?” I remembered now that he had said it tasted off.
    â€œIt was from you. I trusted you,” said Tristan. “I knew any magic you used could not be bad, my love.”
    â€œDon’t call me that.”
    â€œI am sorry,” he said, looking away.
    He was so adorable when he did that! It was hard to have a normal conversation with him when I wanted to smother him with kisses. But we had to be sensible here. “I brought it to school for Branna.”
    â€œBrangane?” said Tristan, pronouncing it differently, as three syllables instead of two. “The tall one who believes she can still be your friend?”
    Whatever that meant.
    â€œThe tall one who could kick your butt,” I said. “And she needs a boyfriend. So I saw you and thought you were cute enough, and maybe you