Biking to school the next day somehow felt easier. Helena’s letter sat in Tristan’s pocket—a sheet of paper that he knew he’d carry with him daily for many years to come.

Parking his bike, he looked up at his school, a determined smile cresting within him. He could do this. He was going to enjoy the rest of his year, because he was taking Helena into the halls with him, and that’s what she’d want him to do—enjoy, smile, capture those worthy moments in the day and write them down for her.

Waltzing along the corridor with a light step, he turned right and spotted Mikayla. She was pressed against her locker, Owen towering over her with his scathing laughter.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he snarled.

Mikayla’s little nose scrunched, her mouth dipping with a resigned frown.

Tristan’s first instinct was to hang back and step up once Owen had left. He’d hug Mikayla, rub her back, and let her know that everything would be okay.

Helena would like that.

But knights fight for justice, her sweet voice whispered through him. I want a better story than a comforting hug. Live up to your name, Tristan!

The command electrocuted him into action.

“Hey!” He pointed at Owen. “Leave her alone.”

Everyone in the hallway went still, their mouths dropping open with surprise.

The mute one spoke?

Tristan ignored the curious gaping and continued forward, training his eyes on Mikayla’s aggressor.

He waited until he was standing less than a foot from him before speaking again. A righteous anger burned inside of him, fueling his words and tone.

“Enough with this intimidation bullshit. She doesn’t want you. She doesn’t want to talk to you, she doesn’t want to hang out with you, and she definitely doesn’t want to have sex with you! So you know what? From now on, you stay away from her. You don’t look at her and you don’t come near her.”

Damn, that felt good to say!

His heart thundered with adrenaline as Owen’s nose crinkled at the side, his lip rising at the corner. He looked like a bulldog.

Tristan stood his ground, ready to fight if he had to. The idea actually thrilled him just a little. It was a hell of a lot better than being a coward.

“This isn’t your business.” Owen’s dark glare was an ominous warning.

Tristan fought the urge to spin and walk away. Instinct was warring with a dogged determination to be the person Helena wanted him to be. Clenching his jaw, he shifted his shoulders back and bunched his fists.

“Mikayla’s my friend and you’ve made it my business by being an asshole. Now back off.”

Tristan shoved Owen’s shoulder, forcing him to move out of Mikayla’s space. Owen lurched back and then raised his fist, ready for a fight.

“Mr. Stalwart!” Principal Smyth called from the end of the corridor.

Owen’s skin blanched, his fist dropping to his side.

“Might I have a word in my office?” When Principal Smyth’s left eyebrow arched like that, everyone knew he meant business.

Owen scowled at both of them, snatching his bag and shuffling through the crowd. As soon as the pair clipped away, a low murmur started in the corridor. Tristan saw a few fingers pointing his way but he turned his back on them, gazing down at Mikayla with a soft smile.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so triumphant. It was going to make for a great story.

“You okay?" He gripped the strap of his bag.

Mikayla’s lips were still parted, her eyes round with wonder. Finally her face puckered and she tipped her head, sticking out her hand. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met."

He snickered, a broad smile taking over his face.

"Is that a smile?" Her face lit with one of her own, her brown eyes dancing.

He shrugged, his grin still firmly locked in place.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. “You know, your eyes look really blue today.”

He jolted at her words, thinking of Helena. Taking Mikayla’s hand, he gave it a soft squeeze and whispered, “Thank you.”

His earnest gratitude took her by surprise. He let go of her hand, his cheeks heating with color.

"What’s up with you?” Her eyes narrowed.

He wasn’t quite ready to tell her, so he shrugged and said, “I just feel happy, I guess.”

“Happy? You obviously haven’t looked in a mirror this morning.”

He gave her a quizzical frown.

She chuckled, hugging her binder to her chest. “You look like you've been possessed by the ghost of sunshine or something.”

He liked that…a lot.

Nodding with a small grin, he whispered, “Maybe I have."

Mikayla’s nose crinkled. “Well, tell her to stick around.”

Tristan’s insides sizzled as he reached for his locker. “Trust me, she's not going anywhere."