The Other Fish in the Sea (Grab Your Pole, #2)

by Jenn Cooksey

  Like I said, Monday was the start of Jillian’s high school experience, but what I neglected to mention was that she seems to be trying to not experience it. Well, that’s how it appears to me anyway. Rather than Tristan driving the both of us to and from school, she’s chosen to walk. She also doesn’t hang out with any of us all that much. Not even during lunch. And from what I can tell, she’s not making the slightest effort to make other friends at all. I’m not entirely sure what’s going on in that genius brain of hers, but whatever it is, it’s keeping her holed up in the library or media center during her free time so that’s why I was a kind of surprised to see so much of her on Thursday.

  During our short break after third period, I was in the process of gloating about my previous day’s victory over Kate and how much I was going to love seeing her in those jeans she hates with a passion when she essentially accused me of cheating.

  “You know, you only won because you were privy to information I didn’t have…had I known about that whole conversation with Tristan, I would’ve never agreed to that bet. And that being the case, I think we should come up with something else to bet on,” Kate pouted but with good nature.

  “Are you trying to renege on our bet?” I asked with a laugh.

  “No, not at all, but I think we should be fair. I really don’t wanna buy them, let alone wear them, and I kind of feel tricked into having to, so, how bad do you really want those jeans?”

  “I want them so much that I’d eat something gross or even better, risk a ride on the back of Brandon’s motorcycle to go get them mys—OUCH!” I hollered, my hand automatically flying to the side of my neck.

  “What happened?” Tristan asked from directly behind me where he’d been talking to Jeff and Mike about why Pete was missing school today. He has a post-operative physical therapy appointment and hopefully, he’ll get the green light to start working his arm out in full in preparation for the baseball season.

  “Oh, I just got stung by a bee…no big deal, but damn, it really hurt.”

  “Well duh, it wasn’t a bee. Look, it was a wasp,” Kate informed me and pointed to the striped insect that was flailing around at my feet after I’d slapped it off my neck.

  “I know they don’t lose their stingers like bees do, but I swear it feels like it’s still in there…can you see it?” I asked and angled my neck so Tristan could get a closer look at the spot that felt like it was burning.

  “Yep, part of it’s in there…weird, you must’ve broken it off when you hit it. Hey Kate, do you have tweezers or something?” He asked while trying to use his way-too-short-guy-fingernails to remove the stinger for me.

  “Oh, no, I don’t…sorry. Do you want me to try?”

  “Are none of you ever prepared for life’s little emergencies?” The sound of my sister’s admonishing voice startled the three of us and had me whipping my head around to see her standing there with her hand outstretched, holding a Swiss Army Knife type gadget that included a pair of tweezers.

  Tristan took the proffered tool from her, removed the stinger, and then handed it back to Jillian who I think was grumbling about knowing what to get everyone for Christmas next year. Kate was sort of laughing, but she’d also moved on to trying to come up with something to make me eat in order to win the bet fair and square. I was only listening with half an ear to both of them, though, because after Tristan finished whispering sweet nothings about Benedryl and cold compresses in my ear and learning I didn’t have any Benedryl on me, he’d decided to kiss my owie all better. Not that I think I’ll really need the medicine. I’m a big girl so I can deal with the stupid sting and the swelling and itching that comes with it, but I wasn’t about to turn down a little neck nuzzling first-aid. And although I’m sure Tristan is quite capable of doing so, he didn’t actually make it all better. But that’s probably because he didn’t actually kiss where I’d been stung at all, however he did distract me from it fairly well so I got that goin’ for me, which is nice.

  “Well, you might be willing to risk having Brandon take you to get those stupid jeans, but I’m not and your vampire ball and chain here won’t allow it anyway, so what’s something Camie thinks is gross or hates eating?” Kate mused aloud while I rubbed the welt that’d risen on my neck and Tristan started laughing at her referral to his much loved tendency of nibbling on me when my hair is up like it is today.

  Now apparently my distaste of them has become something of a scandal because just about everyone who was in earshot of her and who knows me, shouted the answer to Kate’s query at the same time. The answer, of course, was bananas.

  Aw crap.

  The bell rang and with it, it was decided that I would have to ingest my very least favorite food at lunch today if I want those jeans. I know that might not sound like a big deal to you, but I really don’t like them even a little. I was being polite when I told Tristan I didn’t hate them but the truth is, I really do. However, I seriously want those jeans and I want Kate to wear them, too, so it looks like I’m stuck. The other side to all this is that Kate is enjoying herself and I don’t want my weird food aversion to bring her down, so, bananas for lunch it is. I wonder if I can put a caveat in there though, like can I throw them up after five minutes or do I have to actually digest the damned things? I mean I’m already having raw butt and diaper flashbacks. Just ugh…

  I gave Tristan a quick kiss goodbye and spent all of fourth period obsessing about lunch and trying to not scratch at my neck, knowing full well that if I do, I’m only gonna make it worse. But by the time fifth period was over and after Tristan had me hold a wet paper towel on my neck for most of class, the swelling and itching had reduced to almost nothing. It still felt a little irritated though. I’ve been stung by bees countless times, but I think this was my first wasp sting and really, I don’t recommend it.

  So anyhow, the time for my much dreaded lunch bet rolled around and my friends along with my sister, who I have a sick feeling was surreptitiously video recording the whole thing, gathered to witness my intake of two bananas. I was unpleasantly not surprised to find it was as bad as I expected it to be. I’m sure I made some not-so ladylike faces and probably did a little swearing to boot, but I got down one and a half before Kate, who was laughing her ass off at me, told me I could be done. I think I really would’ve preferred to see what the outcome would’ve been if I’d tried to hitch a ride with another guy, but whatever, it’s over and done with and it only took about five minutes.

  Because it was so disgusting to me and I couldn’t get the nasty taste out of my mouth, I was really looking forward to the bottle of water and even more so, the big cookie that Tristan promised he’d give me as a reward if I went through with it. So, when he presented them to me with an “I’m proud of you kiss,” I was tempted to not kiss him back and just guzzle the water. Of course I didn’t though. I mean come on, for me Tristan kisses are far and away better than big cookies so even having that thought in the first place just goes to show how much I can’t stand bananas.

  About halfway through my cookie—which I wasn’t even able to enjoy because my mouth and throat were all tingly and kind of scratchy from eating the freaking yellow monstrosity of a fruit—and somewhere towards the end of lunch, my neck and face were starting to itch like mad and I was wishing I hadn’t used up all my Benedryl over the last few weeks because of some minor hay fever issues. Yeah, I know I said I’m a big girl and can handle a little insect sting but this is ridiculous. Not only that, but my stomach was cramping and I was starting to feel almost feverish and kind of sick. It was similar to how I felt after my dentist appointment the week after the car accident and so being reminded of that whole thing, some grisly mental images were produced and they only made my nausea worse. Most everyone around me was engaged in conversations so I’m pretty sure no one was really paying any attention to me anymore, and I was kinda grateful for that because I didn’t want anyone to see me try to slip away to go purge in private. However, as I stood up to do so, I got totall
y lightheaded and realized the voices swirling around me were becoming oddly muddled and confused. It was when my chest became tight and I started coughing and having a really hard time catching my breath that there was no doubt in my mind that something was desperately wrong with me.

  “Camie, what’s wro—are you choking?” Kate asked and started patting my back when my coughing went from sounding like I was trying to clear my throat to full-blown hacking.

  “No…I…just don’t…feel…right,” I rasped in between wheezing, shallow breaths while wobbling a little on my feet and looking up as I grabbed onto Jilly’s arm to keep from falling on my butt.

  “Oh Camie! You’re covered in hives!” Kate told me with shocked eyes.

  Then I threw up.

  Thankfully I puked in a trashcan that was right there and not all over myself and/or the stage. Not that I would wind up caring about that later, but at the time it seemed important to not make a completely gross fool of myself in front of most of the school.

  “Oh God…TRISTAN!” Jillian shouted and tried to help steady me as my undigested cookie and those f-ing bananas came back up with force.

  The sheer panic in my sister’s voice penetrated whatever jocular conversation Tristan had been having with a group of people a few feet from us, but it was seeing his expression when he turned and saw me that her panic finally registered in my mind as being completely justified.

  I swear he didn’t hesitate even a nanosecond before he was moving and tossing his car keys to Jillian while barking out orders to her at the same time. “Call 911 and tell them she’s anaphylactic and I’m bringing her to Grossmont, I’m parked by shop, run ahead and open the doors and get in the back, GO!”

  Then he picked me up and cradling me in his arms like a baby, Tristan swiftly carried me in the direction my sister had just dematerialized in. And what was I thinking? Yes, that’s right; Aw crap. Another trip to the goddamned hospital…

  “Camie, just stay calm and keep breathing, okay? Just take slow, deep breaths.”

  I tried to do what Tristan told me to, but I only managed the same, rattled breathing and it was really freaking me out. My throat felt like it was collapsing on itself and I wanted to ask him what was wrong with me, but I couldn’t catch enough breath to get any words out. When we got to his car we found that Jillian had done exactly as she was told and was waiting.

  “I figured you’re not gonna be obeying the traffic laws and told them we’re less than two minutes away…they’ll be ready when we get there,” she told Tristan as he rather unceremoniously deposited me in the backseat with my head on her lap.

  “Good. Keep her legs higher than her heart and if you think she’s gonna throw up again, roll her sideways, and if she passes out or stops breathing, you tell me and start CPR, you understand?” He asked as he started the car.

  And yes, the phrases “stops breathing” and “start CPR” being said in regard to me began to fill me with even more overwhelming terror, but I couldn’t get past how absolutely normal Tristan’s voice sounded.

  “Yeah, I got it, go,” Jill responded, propping my feet on the door and holding onto me as we took off at what felt to me like mach 9 speed.

  Even as Tristan peeled out of the parking lot, he seemed so completely calm. “Okay, Camie, I’m gonna be blowin’ through every stop sign and light and Jillian’s gonna hold onto you so all you have to do is breathe, alright Baby?”

  I looked at Jill and nodded a little and tried to allow myself to absorb her calm and steady demeanor, forcing myself to believe her expression and his voice was really how they felt and not some act to keep me from knowing how close to dying I was. Because I’m tellin’ ya, not being able to breathe is truly pee-your-pants-fucking-scary and even if it wasn’t, I’m smart enough to know that without oxygen, you die. Period. And that’s also why I couldn’t for the life of me (no pun intended) get the song “Knocking On Heaven’s Door” out of my head.

  “I think she’s scared. She doesn’t know what’s happening and can’t ask,” my sister told Tristan while unflinchingly meeting my eyes and recognizing the undisguised fear she must’ve seen in them.

  “Baby, you’re going into anaphylactic shock…it’s a severe allergic reaction to something and it’s making your airways constrict and close, that’s why you’re having a hard time breathing, but we’ll be at the hospital in just a minute and you’re gonna be okay so try to not be scared, just concentrate on breathing,” he told me and I might not have had any doubts that he really was as relaxed as he sounded except that all of a sudden, I felt the car swerve and Jill grabbed onto my waist to keep me from being thrown off the seat onto the floorboards, and then I heard the sound of a couple blaring horns fading into the distance as Tristan made another hard turn that had me rolling the other way towards Jillian.

  Now here’s where things got really spotty because when Tristan screeched into the emergency room drop off area, I was pretty disoriented. All I really remember is disembodied arms reaching in to remove me from the black, gas powered horse my knight had ridden with demonic speed to make about seventeen traffic violations in an effort to literally save my life before I was placed on a stretcher and I closed my eyes against the far too bright lights overhead.

  *****

  I focused on the clock on the wall and was shocked to discover that my near death experience had lasted no more than ten minutes. Seriously. If that clock is right, the bell for sixth period to start probably just rang and hundreds of kids at my school are probably just settling in to be educated further on whatever subject it is they have this hour. My ability to breathe normally again was more of a gradual awareness but no less of a surprise. I also noticed that I was without pants. I think I remember one leg of them being cut open and being given a shot in the thigh, but I’m not one hundred percent on that. Also, I was sporting a couple of new accessories. The one around my face was an oxygen mask, on one of my arms was an IV and on the other was a blood pressure cuff.

  Aside from me and a nurse standing next to what I’m guessing was the blood pressure monitor, the room was empty.

  “So I guess I’m done dying for today,” I said to her.

  She smiled at me as she walked over and picked up my chart to write something on it. “Yes, you’re definitely done dying today. In fact, you’re responding very well to the epinephrine and antihistamines.”

  “Is that the right time?” I asked, thinking it had to be a mistake.

  “Mm-hm.”

  “Wow…um, so now that I’m feeling better, do I get to go home or do I have to go through a whole slew of tests or what?” I know that might sound weird, but incredibly, I really do feel almost normal. A little stressed maybe but that’s it, and I think you could say almost dying is enough to make even the most laid back person a little freaked and wanting to get the hell out of Dodge.

  “Well, you need to be monitored for a few hours so you can’t go home just yet, but if your initial recovery is any indication, I’d guess you’ll be home around eight tonight,” she answered with another kind smile.

  A few hours? Uh, again I know I’m not a candidate for any kind of math award, but a “few” doesn’t equal seven in my book, you know what I mean?

  “Oh my God…did anyone call my mom and dad?” Duh. I’m sitting here all cranky about having to be in the ER all damned day and it’s just now occurring to me that my parents might not even know I almost died? Jeez, I’m such a self-absorbed brat…

  “Ah, yes. I believe they were both contacted and your father is on his way,” she replied while checking my IV.

  “What about my mom?”

  “I’m sorry, honey, I wasn’t the one who spoke with either of them.”

  Actually, I hope my mom doesn’t come. I love her and I wanna see her and everything, but she’s got that procedure and I’d hate to have her risk getting an infection beforehand just so she can sit and be bored with me.

  “Do you know where my sister and the guy who drove me here are?”<
br />
  “Your sister was out in the hall earlier filling us in on your day and medical history, but I didn’t see her out there when I came back in, and I’m sorry, I never saw who drove you, but if you tell me what he looks like and if I see either of them, I’ll let them know you’re asking for them,” the nurse offered nicely and left the room right after I described Tristan for her. Actually, what I said was something like; “He’s big and beautiful…you can’t miss him.”

  She must have, though, because I saw my dad long before I saw my boyfriend.

  22.

  Big Emotions & A Heart To Heart With Daddy

  “Daddy? Did you see Jillian or Tristan when you got here?” I asked him, wondering why neither of them has even so much as popped a head in to see how I’m doing.

  Well, I guess Jill had when I was still kind of out of it, but seriously, I’ve been here for almost an hour now and my dad has been in the room with me for about twenty minutes, but I haven’t seen the well-tanned and muscled hide nor a strand of the great hair belonging to my savior and it’s kind of weirding me out. Like was what happened honestly not that big of deal or is he thinking what I was earlier about being stuck in the hospital again, or, does he just not care?

  “Mm-hm, I told The Boy to take her home…no sense in havin’ the two of them sittin’ here with nothin’ to do,” my dad answered very reasonably, but try being rational with a traumatized teenage girl and her emotions. Yeah, it doesn’t quite work so when my dad looked up and recognized that my eyes were shining suspiciously bright, he went into comfort mode, which for a dad, he’s really good at. “Sweetie, what is it? You’re not still scared, are you?”

  Of course his tender concern for me fueled my tears further so I was all weepy and sniffly when I answered, “No, I’m not scared at all, it’s just that…well, he didn’t once check on me or even say goodbye…”

  My dad took my hand in his and I knew with a certainty that a girl can only get from her father that what he was going to say would be from the heart and it would be the truth. “Cameron, I remember like it was yesterday bein’ his age and feelin’ the way I did about your mother and, I’ll be honest with you, honey, it scared the ever lovin’ shit out of me and I did everything I could to stuff those feelings down deep for as long as possible so I wouldn’t get hurt. I’d never experienced a love like that or cared so much for anything or anyone before…it was all so new and I didn’t know what to do with those big emotions.