Lingus

by Mariana Zapata

  I was well aware that she was trying to make me feel better about being a embarrassed by bringing up something that I knew was really hard and very personal for her to overcome. The situation with Ryan was harder than it was when she finally came out to her mom. Mrs. Quinn simply shrugged, and then asked Zoey what she wanted for dinner.

  I caught Nikki making a beeline toward us as we casually strolled past some booths. Her hazel eyes were sparkling like the Saharan sand under the sun on a perfect day, while the grin on her face was borderline demented. "Guess who just texted me?" she gushed.

  Nicole had never gushed in her life, so I knew it was a momentous occasion.

  It hit me and I gasped. "No!"

  "Uh— yes!"

  Zoey gasped then, putting a small hand against her negative 32AAA boobies. "No!"

  "Yes, bitches!" Nicole clenched her fist right in front of the mini circle we'd formed.

  Holy shit.

  Holy shit.

  Calum Burro had texted Nikki.

  She thrust her brand new phone in my face. My eyes caught the unknown number with a Miami area code before seeing the message.

  I want 2 talk about ur offer, sweet <3

  I wanted to laugh at the fact that he put a heart instead of actually writing it out but I didn't. Instead, I put my hand up for Nicole to give me a high-five because her dream had come true.

  She started galloping in place with Zoey air-spanking her ass, exclaiming, "I'm gonna ride that dick raw!"

  Chapter 7

  "I'm starving," I whined to the two assholes for the millionth time.

  Zoey, Nicole, and I had been walking around for almost two hours going from booth to booth, looking at everything under the moon. In those few hours, I'd learned that there were a ton of variation in floggers, that women liked porn just as much as men did, and what a sound was— although that little ditty I wish I wouldn't have found out about. A couple years ago, Josh asked me to go with him to get tested for STDs. I, like the idiot I am, went with him, and even stayed in the room at his insistence.

  What I saw that day in the doctor's office would haunt me for the rest of my life. I firmly believed that the only thing that should be coming out of a guy's penis was pee and semen. Nothing, and I mean nothing, should ever go in there. I think I screamed louder than Josh did when I saw what the doctor did to him. Sweet baby Jesus, I cried for the both of us, and my vagina clenched up like a steel trap for weeks. The only positive thing about the whole experience was the fact that Josh, as well as I, learned a very valuable lesson: wrap that pecker up. Every. Single. Time.

  I picked up the sound, wondering what in the fuck a little steel rod was doing on the table, until Zoey whispered its purpose in my ear. I dropped that shit like a hot potato. Whatever makes a person happy is their business, and really, I could care less as long as it doesn't effect me but that... ughhh.

  I was still shuddering hours later.

  It took me a good half an hour after picking up that little toy to partially get over reliving the horror that was Josh's STD test. After all that, I was ridiculously hungry and neither one of my friends was paying attention to my cries.

  "I'm going to start eating your ass fat if I don't get food in me soon," I moaned. Nicole didn't even bother turning around to look at me while she shot me the finger.

  After getting the text from Calum, she'd been on cloud nine. We stood in our little circle rallying together for a few minutes before she got all serious and said that she was going to make him wait. So she ignored his text message along with the one he sent an hour later. Something told me that stud muffin wasn't used to not getting what he wanted.

  I could only imagine what a future with Nicole Jonasson would be like for him.

  Had I mentioned that she was a praying mantis? A Venus flytrap? She wasn't just a man-eater— she was a human-eater. But I loved her more than words.

  My poor stomach grumbled so loudly that the pretty girl standing next to me laughed at the noise.

  "Screw you guys, I'm going to get some food. You know where to find me, Whoricole and Bitchey." They just waved me off while they finished looking at whatever corset crap they were interested in buying.

  It took me a few minutes to find my way around the booths and the huge masses of people milling about. There were a lot more visitors at that point than when we first got there, but I tried to ignore the flutter of nervousness in my heart by focusing on the churning of my stomach eating my fat to survive. I was used to eating pretty regularly and if I skipped a meal, I turned into Nikki— a bitch.

  Finally, making it to the small semicircle of food vendors and a few rows of tables, I sighed in contentment. There was a lady on the end selling what looked like dick-shaped cookies and little cakes that were probably supposed to be imitation vaginas. The man right next to her was selling pretzels and nachos, which I considered. The next booth had hot dogs and more hot dogs, and the last booth sold something in a cup that smelled fucking disgusting.

  Hot dogs at a porn convention. Oh yeah.

  I laughed at myself a little at the idea of eating a phallic-shaped object here but oh well. I bought two and doused them with mayonnaise and ketchup, before I went and sat down in one of the two chairs at the table furthest away from the crowd.

  "I'm starting to think you were lying to me about being a stalker," a familiar low voice asked from right behind me.

  The dark hoodie caught my peripheral vision first, before the long figure pulled out the chair across from mine and plopped down into it. Those spectacular green gems called eyes focused in on my wide, open mouth mid-bite. I snorted, and bit my hot dog anyway, ketchup staining the corner of my lips. "Hey," I said between swallows, covering my mouth with my hand.

  Tristan smirked at me, as he tugged the hood portion of his hoodie down to his shoulders, so only his cap covered his head. "Hungry?" he asked, eyeing my other hot dog on the table.

  "Starving," I replied, taking another big bite. "You have no idea," I practically moaned out between chews. "These hot dogs could probably be made out of roach poop and I wouldn't care."

  He laughed, the corner of his mouth tipping into the same crooked smile he gave me earlier. God, even his skin was perfect and clear, I noted. "They probably are made out of roach poop."

  I frowned and took another bite out of the hot dog while he eyed the other one, longingly. "You hungry?"

  "Yeah," he sighed. "I left my wallet in my car and my friend won't let me borrow money."

  What kind of a friend wouldn't buy someone lunch at least? I knew for a fact Nikki would buy me half of Whole Foods if I asked her to. I nudged the remaining hot dog in his direction while chewing. "Have it."

  His eyes went from the beef frank to mine and back again. "No, I couldn't do that, Kat. You don't even know me." Tristan said quietly.

  "Your name is Tristan... King?" I asked, and he nodded in response. "You caught me pulling my wedgie, so consider this your blackmail money and we'll never speak of it again." I covered my mouth while I finished chewing.

  "You really don't need to..." he started saying again, as he eyed the hot dog for the fifth time.

  I rolled my eyes, and nudged the wrapped food closer to him. "Eat the freaking thing already."

  He smiled that perfect, blindingly white smile before tearing the hot dog out of its package, practically shoving half of it in his mouth. He groaned for all that is holy in the universe. A groan that was all man and rich, and I knew my eyes probably glazed over in appreciation at the sound. Luckily, he was so preoccupied with having a beef sausage in his mouth that he didn't notice the crazy look I had in my eye.

  There was a small possibility that Tristan had a big bald spot hidden underneath his cap. He might also have an extremely hairy chest, or maybe even a third nipple for all I knew. Or, and I gasped internally at the idea, a crooked dick. Those things creeped me the hell out.

  Based on that groan and the pure pleasure that rang up my spine, I just knew that there was no way
this man was here alone...

  And damn it, I was going to find out for sure.

  Chapter 8

  "So Tristan," I started to say, when he shoved the last bit of food in his pretty mouth. I hoped I wasn't overstepping my boundaries by asking him what was about to pop out of my mouth. "What kind of friend doesn't give you any lunch money?"

  He smirked while chewing. "The same friend that's waiting for your friend to text him back."

  "Wait. What?" What the hell was he talking about? I wondered for a split second before his words sunk in. "Calum Burro is your friend?" I couldn't begin to grasp the idea that the universe was so small and that this was my luck. I mean, seriously? Of all the people here, I started talking to the one person who personally knew my best friend's infatuation? My brain screamed at my instincts that I should freeze up and stutter. Then again, I would think it was super fucking weird if someone was a fan of Zoey and thought it was awesome to meet me just because I was friends with her.

  Tristan frowned like he smelled something bad but chuckled. "I told you I was waiting for my friend during the autograph session."

  I wanted to be a smartass and ask him how I was supposed to know that he was talking about the only other guy nearby instead of one of the psychos in line but I didn't. "Well, that's awkward."

  "Can you keep a secret?" he asked me, leaning forward in his seat. I nodded a little too quickly causing him to smirk again. "Why is that hard for me to believe?"

  Pulling my hand across my lips like I was zipping them closed, I tossed my hand back to make it seem like I threw away an imaginary key. "My lips are sealed, I promise."

  "I think Calum's in love. He's been babbling about your friend for the last three hours," he tugged at the brim of his hat, smiling. "He said he wouldn't let me borrow any money until she texted him back."

  The snort that erupted out of my nose made us both laugh. "Well, he's out of luck because Nikki is playing hard to get right now." I told him, wiggling my eyebrows. Thinking better of what I just said, I added, "But don't tell him that." Nicole would have my ass on a platter if he found out. Besides, as Zoey always said, "Hos before bros."

  Tristan shrugged as he leaned back against his chair. "Why are you eating all by yourself?"

  "My friends didn't want to eat with me."

  He frowned again, a wrinkle creasing his flawless forehead. "I'm glad I found you then."

  "Better you crashing my lunch than the other guy who caught me pulling my wedgie." I smirked at the perfect male specimen in front of me and he grinned.

  "Your boyfriend won't get mad, right?"

  My eyes narrowed in his direction, wondering if he was trying to fish for information like I had been earlier. It seemed really strange to me that out of the hundreds of women here, with prettier faces, and wearing a lot less clothes, he'd chosen me to harass. Pushing the thought to the back of my head, I decided I'd rather focus on the fact that he did, instead of why he had.

  "Nah, but my husband will." I said, with a straight look on my face.

  Green eyes immediately drifted to my left hand, which was resting on the table. He shook his head as he let his eyes drift back to my face slowly. "You got me, little gold digger." Tristan leaned forward in his seat again, casting a quick glance around.

  "Are you... hiding from someone?" I pointed at his head, and then his hoodie.

  "Not really."

  My eyebrow rose on its own. "Are you balding?"

  I realized that Tristan smiled more than I did, and I was known for constantly grinning, especially when I did something stupid or when it was frowned upon.

  "No."

  "You have a really bad haircut, don't you?"

  "No, I have great hair, thank you."

  I rolled my eyes and smiled at him. "I've got it, your head is as big as your ego, and your cap is hiding your Jack in the Box sized noggin."

  He sighed and looked from side to side again. "I do not," he said with an annoyed and exasperated tone, but the crooked smile on his face said otherwise. Long fingers went up to trace the seam of his cap before he yanked it off his head, his grass colored eyes looking right at me.

  The oddest mixture of auburn and gold colored his hair. Tristan ran a hand through his sweaty strandsou807r, the ends went everywhere automatically like he'd been zapped by an electrical current. Of course, he couldn't have normal colored hair like every other human being on planet Earth.

  "My hair's really..." he started to say quietly, his voice laced with nervousness.

  "Cool," I added with a laugh. I couldn't remember the last time I used the word cool.

  "I was going to say recognizable, but I like cool more."

  His eyebrows were almost the same color as his hair, I noticed, which just made him cuter. "So you're trying to be anonymous then?"

  "Exactly."

  "Pussy," came out of my mouth before my brain even registered the word. My verbal filter had officially left the building once again.

  Tristan started laughing, and then right in the middle of it, snorted like a pig. I was sure my eyes went wide at the sound that came out of such a seemingly perfect being, so human and unexpected. I started laughing like an idiot and then snorted too, like a full-blown hog for freaking sake. We both laughed so hard at each other for our mirrored noises, that he snorted again, this time louder and I fucking followed as well.

  Porn con had officially become a farm.

  I'd always kind of hated the fact that I snorted when I laughed. When I was little, kids would call me Miss Piggy for it and even though I liked her because she was kind of a bitch, it still hurt. My mom used to hold me in her lap when I'd come home from school and whisper, "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." Even as an adult, Dr. Seuss always seemed to connect with me on a level that no one else ever could. It took me a long time to fully understand what she meant by the words but by the time I finally got it, it was so deeply ingrained in my being I could never forget. So yeah, I hated that I snorted like a pig but oh well. It could have been worse— I could be one of those people who farted when they laughed really hard.

  Not that it had ever happened to me, you know, but I'd heard of it.

  Tristan's perfect face was thrown back, his hands covered the upper part of his face while he laughed so hard his chest heaved, and he might have possibly been crying. My stomach started hurting from laughing, and my cheeks kind of ached, but I still giggled like a fool.

  Then, Tristan snorted one more time, and I was dying.

  To die laughing would have been the best way to go. I hurt in a wonderful way and I couldn't breathe either, but I couldn't have cared less. There were people at the tables surrounding us, staring like the men who stared at the anal queen earlier. The last thing I wanted to do was bring attention to myself, but I was doing the opposite by laughing my ass off with my new friend. I buried my face into my arms to control the nonstop laughs that erupted out of me like a geyser.

  "Holy shit," he started huffing moments later, eyes glazed over with the tip of his nose tinged pink. Tristan was out of breath, and he mirrored me by holding his stomach. "I don't think I've ever laughed that hard."

  "You save those snorts for special occasions, or what?" I asked, trying to conceal the grin that covered the lower half of my face but another laugh escaped anyway.

  Tristan pinched his nose, his chest shaking again with the effort to control his laughs. "Please," he begged. "Please don't ever tell anyone I snort."

  I raised a wary eyebrow at him because I hadn't gotten rid of the giggles completely. "Why does it matter? I snort too, and yeah, it's pretty embarrassing but..." I just shrugged to end my sentence.

  His bright green eyes searched my face while the corners of his mouth turned up. Whatever he found he must have liked because his pearly whites came out as he leaned forward in his chair. "I'm not a cute girl, I can't pull off a snort like you can. I look like an idiot when I do it."

&n
bsp; It didn't escape me that he called me cute and of course, my face got warm all of a sudden at his compliment. It wasn't like I thought I was unattractive, but it somehow meant more coming from his mouth. He didn't look like an idiot at all, like he claimed, but I was definitely not going to disagree with him. Luckily, part of my brain still functioned because I made an effort not to graze my eyes over his torso, up over his sharp jawline and face. I nodded at him instead. "Yeah, you're right. You do look like an idiot when you snort."