Tristan knew at that moment what Will would be thinking. He gazed at Ivy and thought how it would feel to put his arms around her, to pull her to him, to let his fingers get lost in her bright hair. In that instant they matched thoughts, and Tristan slipped inside Will.
Will suddenly sagged against Beth. "It's that feeling again. I hate the feeling."
"I need to talk to Ivy," Tristan told him, and Will spoke the words aloud.
"What are you going to say to her?" Beth asked.
Will shook his head, bewildered.
"Ask Ivy to dance," Tristan said, and once again Will spoke the words as if they were his own.
"You ask her," Beth replied.
Will's jaw tightened. Tristan could feel his struggle, how Will's instinct told him to thrust the intruder out of his mind, and how his curiosity fought back against this instinct. "Who are you?" Will wondered silently.
"It's Tristan. Tristan. You've got to believe me now."
"I can't believe," Beth said.
Will and she had stopped dancing and stood looking at each other, trying to understand.
"He's inside you, isn't he?" Beth asked, her voice shaking.
"It's his words you're saying."
Will nodded.
"Can you make him leave?" she asked.
"Don't!"
"Why don't you leave us alone?" Beth cried.
"I can't. For Ivy's sake, I can't."
Will and Beth clung to each other. Then Will led her to the edge of the patio, where Ivy was sitting. "Will you dance with me?" he asked Ivy.
She glanced at Beth uncertainly.
"I'm beat," Beth said, pulling Ivy up out of the chair and taking her place. "Go on. I've got to give these dainty, size-nine feet a break."
Will walked quietly with Ivy to the least crowded part of the patio.
Tristan felt him tremble as he put his arms around her. He felt each awkward step and remembered how he himself had felt the previous spring when he had first tried to get to know Ivy. Face-to-face with her, he couldn't manage a sentence with more than four words.
"How are you?" Will asked.
"Fine."
"Good."
A long silence followed. Tristan could feel questions forming in Will's mind. "If you're there," Will said silently to Tristan, "why aren't you telling me what to do?"
"I'm not that fragile," Ivy told him.
"What?"
"You're dancing with me as if you think I'll break," she said loudly, her green eyes shooting brilliant sparks.
Will looked at her, surprised. "You're angry."
"You noticed," she said sharply. "I'm tired of the way people are acting-everyone's being so careful around me! Tiptoeing, as though they're afraid they'll do something to set me off. Well, I've got news for you, Will, and everyone else. I'm not made of glass, and I'm not about to shatter. Got it?"
"I think so," Will said. Then, without warning, he spun her around twice, pushing her away from him and drawing her back like a yo-yo. He dropped his arm so she fell back, then he caught her at the last instant, leaning over her and pulling her up.
"Is that better?"
Ivy pushed back the hair that had tumbled over her face, and she laughed breathlessly. "A little."
Will grinned. Both of them were more relaxed now-it was time to speak to her, Tristan thought. But what could he say that wouldn't anger her again or scare her away?
"There's something I want to talk about," Will said, using Tristan's words.
Ivy pulled back a little to look into his eyes, then quickly glanced away. Eyes a girl could drown in- that was how Lacey had described Will's. And that's why Ivy looked away, Tristan thought, struggling to control his jealousy.
"It's about… Beth. She's kind of shaken up," Will said for Tristan.
"You know how she has premonitions."
"I know I gave her a good scare a few weeks ago," Ivy said, "but that was just a-" Will shook his head quickly, as Tristan did. "Beth is more afraid of the future than of what happened then."
"What do you mean?" Ivy asked. Her tone was indignant, but Tristan heard the slight tremor. "Nothing more is going to happen," she insisted. "What do I have to do to convince everyone that I'm okay?"
"You have to remember, Ivy."
"Remember what?" she asked.
"The night of the accident."
Tristan could feel Will pulling back now, wondering what his words were leading to. "What accident?" Will asked silently. "The one you died in?"
"The accident?" Ivy repeated. "Is that a nice, polite way of talking about my attempted suicide?"
"Ivy, you can't believe that! You know it's not true," Will said, passionately speaking each word Tristan gave him.
"I don't know anything anymore," she replied, her voice breaking.