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Tristan's head was spinning and no matter how hard he stared at the page of his text book he just could not commit the words to memory. A sigh could be heard as he leant back in his chair and clicked his pen on and off, on and off. Damn, Tristan was getting closer and closer to admitting that...

For somebody who had sought out his real family only days early, the nineteen year old who was currently stuffing his scrubs into his bag seemed fairly complacent. But Tristan had always been Tristan, he sure didn’t feel any different nor did he think any differently than what he did before. The...