“I wouldn’t expect him to show any interest whatsoever at school yet and that’s ultimately what we want. People are pretty used to him having minor escapades that aren’t at all serious, so a few parties won’t mean much and he might be more inclined to stake a claim out of the public eye. However, if he develops a pattern outside of school…well, that’s really the next best thing to checkmate so to speak. It won’t be exactly what we want, but it might be the best we can get. I don’t know if he’ll be willing to enter into an actual commitment,” Kate said in all truthfulness.
I know she’s worried about me slipping back into my “Bizarro Camie” persona, so I’m going to try really hard to adopt some patience…especially for Kate because I just adore her. “I hear the warning and I’m gonna try to not let the time thing bug me. I’m still just so tickled that he essentially told Teresa off the way he did. He was like my knight in shining armor. I didn’t have to do or say a thing…honestly Kate, I wish you would’ve been where you could’ve seen it.”
Giggling, we got out of her car and had barely made it out of the parking lot when the warning bell rang. We looked at each other and took off running. Apparently we’d completely lost track of the time and I now had a good-sized head start on getting my first tardy slip.
You know, let me just say something here; it’s not that easy to keep yourself positive and upbeat when circumstances conspire against you. Kate and I had to go to the office for our late slips and since I was already late and still needed to get my math book, I made a frenzied stop at my locker on the way to class. I was in such a hurry, though, I didn’t realize my locker had been painted recently. Really recently. I threw myself down on my chair in geometry and when I pulled my supplies out to put them on my desk, I noticed I had paint all over my hands and forearms. Yeah, and it gets better; my teacher passed out last week’s pop quizzes. You can imagine that I’m less than pleased with my C-grade.
It didn’t look like things were going to improve much as the day moved on either. Michele was absent which left no one for me to really talk to in class, and during the break, both Kate and Melissa were missing, too. As I suspected and even somewhat expected, there’s a new buzz floating around school that I’m pretty sure pertains to me, but of course, no one’s gonna actually say anything to me about it. And I couldn’t very well ask anyone in my classes because almost all the people I’ve been hanging around with are juniors and seniors, and aside from Michele and a few kids in P.E., I really don’t know many of the kids in the sophomore class yet.
Also, I’ve bestowed the title “Bane of My Existence” upon Teresa. During third period, which unfortunately I share with her, and the break right after that, Teresa spent most of her time talking about Tristan with her so very pedestrian grasp of the English language and at the same time, whispering about me behind my back to anyone who’d listen to her. I’m guessing she’s informing everyone she can get her claws on about my drink disaster Saturday night. I’m assuming that’s what she was doing because she’d cup her hands to cover her mouth and lean in close to a kid and then they’d both look at me and start laughing. Her look has become more nefarious than dirty now, too.
Anyhow, when I showed up to English, Tristan and Jeff were, of course, already there and occupying what I’ve now come to accept as their traditional cushions. Kate walked in seconds behind me and we both plopped down next to each other. She turned to say something to me and then frowned at my hair like it was offensive in some way.
“What?” Is what I actually said, but I was thinking something along the lines of “It’s not like you haven’t seen my hair before, Kate! What did it ever do to you? Jeez!”
She reached to touch a piece of my hair. “What is that?”
That had the guys turn their attention to our conversation and, naturally because it’s just been that kind of day for me, Tristan popped off with, “Jesus, every time I see you, you have some kind of shit in your hair.”
“What?” I asked a little offended and totally bewildered.
“It looks like paint. How the hell did you get paint in your hair?” Kate asked as she scratched at a strand, trying to get it out for me.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” I pulled a piece of my hair in front of my eyes so I could see. Sure enough, there’s paint in my hair and it’s the exact same shade as my locker. “Well, that’s just swell. So, you know what? This means I’ve been walking around with paint in my hair all damned day! My locker was re-painted and I didn’t notice it was wet this morning because I was in such a hurry, remember? I got it all over my hands and arms too,” I explained while looking over my clothes to see if I’d missed any other embarrassing patches. Then something occurred to me. “Aargh! When are elections for the We Hate Teresa Club? Because I wanna run for freaking president!!”
Jeff’s eyes shot to Tristan and then back to me. “You think Teresa painted your locker?”
“No. She’s just been in rare form today and I thought she’d just been telling half the world about my volcanic ensemble Saturday night, but I was unaware I’d been providing more fodder for her insipid recreational sport,” I answered and then crossed my arms over my chest in a huff. Oh, just so you know, on Sunday I watched Pretty In Pink—from which I got that witty little dig on my shirt—and I was right…Tristan quoted Steff so my trifecta is indeed quantified.
“Why do you care what Teresa and a bunch of stupid sophomores think?” Jeff asked stupidly.
“I’M a sophomore, you blithering ninny!!” I said angrily and scrambled across Kate to whack him upside the head a couple of times and punch his shoulder.
“Ow! Jesus, I forgot…I’m sorry. Man, you’re pretty strong for a girl.”
I smacked him a couple more times for that comment, meanwhile, both Kate and Tristan were cracking up at the hole Jeff was digging for himself. He really does mean well; it just doesn’t always come across the right way. After physically venting on Jeff, I sat back down on my pillow and decided to get over my irritation with his incentive remarks.
“I’m sorry. I have a bit of a temper and she’s been pushing it since my first day.”
Tristan broke from his laughter to say, “A bit? Remind me not to piss you off!” Then he started laughing again and while wiping at his tears, he looked at Jeff. “Sorry man, but that was damned funny!”
Kate, Melissa, and I spent lunch looking like monkeys. They had me seated on the stage a step below them while they scraped and scratched as much of the paint out of my hair as they could. Melissa hadn’t been at Mike’s party because she’d been obligated to help her parents with a formal dinner party they were hosting, but through the grapevine she’d heard about the punch being spilled on “some girl” and then also, about me wearing Tristan’s shirt. It’s interesting…there’s still a buzz going on with the upper classmen but it’s much more subtle. I’m not really sure why that is, but I’m kind of grateful I belong to this group rather than where my grade level would rightfully place me. The only problem I can see with that is; what am I gonna do when they all graduate and leave me behind?
The following day Michele was back in school and I learned something from her that really pissed me off. From what she said, Teresa did have something to do with why my locker had wet paint on it. Michele had overheard Teresa in the girls’ locker room pouting about how her vandalism was never seen by anyone else in school. Apparently, she and her two I’m with Stupid gal pals had snuck onto campus in the early hours of Monday morning and used permanent marker to write on my locker what I can only imagine were tasteless things about me. She’d been complaining that they shouldn’t have gone back home afterwards because then they could’ve just re-vandalized it before school started. Here’s where she’s lucky; I’m not about to get into some immature war with her even though I’ll applaud anyone else who beats her to the ground.
After English, I shared my new intelligence with Kate and Melissa on our way to lunch and they both had looks of disgust on their faces by
the time I finished my tale. They consoled me by saying they hadn’t heard a peep about it, so chances are no one had seen what was written and the whole thing would most likely just blow over.
However, I was still fuming on Friday when I arrived at Derek’s school with my family for the football game my school was playing against his. My mom was feeling pretty good and wanted to go, so I decided to ride with them and then knowing I probably shouldn’t sit with Derek again, not only that, but it wouldn’t do me any good to be on the other side of the field, I figured I’d find one of my new safe acquaintances to sit with. We were just getting out of the car when the Trollop Triplets pulled up and parked several spaces away from us.
“Jill, that’s Teresa,” I whispered to my sister, to whom I’d confided my serious loathing of Teresa.
“Which one?” She asked, intently looking over the three girls.
“The one getting out of the passenger seat.”
“Is that…? No. Oh, for the love of God, that’s just crude…have at least some self-respect! Why does she think anyone needs to see she’s wearing a thong? What a serious waste of good lip-gloss,” Jillian ranted when her eyes picked up the unmistakable sight of a red lacey thong riding high above the waist of Teresa’s low-rise short-shorts, which also showed more of her butt cheeks than I’ll ever care to see. Her too short and too tight tank top didn’t help.
“Classy, isn’t she?” I agreed as we continued walking out of the parking lot.
“Who’s the guy that drove her?” She asked as she studied the foursome in front of us.
“Her brother, Mark. He’s a senior and that’s how she gets to all the parties, too. I don’t know him more than to know what his name is though. Oh, wait. You know what, that’s not true. He’s a jerk. I forgot, but Kate told me he’s the guy who made that rude comment when Paul fell my first day.”
On hearing that, Jillian let loose a disgruntled “Humph.” She’s not a big fan of people who pick on those who are weaker than them.
We got to the field and parted ways. Jillian went to sit with Derek and a few of his friends, who were totally cool with having a kid sit with them, and I walked with my parents to the guest side, totally trying to avoid catching any glimpse of the Norsemen’s cheerleaders. Once there, I left my mom and dad and located a few people to watch the game with. I ended up sitting with Mike, his girlfriend Kristen, Pete, and a guy named Justin. They all welcomed me and the whole event was very comfortable.
The Dynamic Duo didn’t make an appearance at the game, but that’s okay. I had a good time with the people I was with, Mike especially. He’s got kind of a wry sense of humor, but he always says what’s on his mind and I can appreciate that. Pete was still relatively quiet and actually, he ended up taking off before halftime, presumably to get things set for the party he was to have after the game. Which was actually sort of exciting.
Both teams had done such a good job of keeping each other out of the end zone that the score was 0-0 until like the last fifteen seconds of the game. Keith set up the offensive line like they were going to go for a field goal, but instead of positioning the ball for the kicker after the hike, he made a blind lateral pass which was caught and then ran in for a touchdown, making it impossible for Derek’s school to even the score in the game’s remaining few seconds. When the excitement was over, I met up with Kate and Melissa and then the three of us fell in with the rest of the crowd walking back to the parking lot.
“Camie, do you have all your stuff for tonight?” Kate asked, making sure I was packed and good to go for the sleepover Melissa and I were having at her house.
“Yeah, it’s all here,” I replied, holding my bag up.
“What is all this commotion about?” Melissa asked as we approached a group of people hovering around a car in the lot. “Wait for me, I wanna see what this is about.”
She jogged over to where the “commotion” was taking place and then disappeared amongst a couple dozen kids as she squeezed in to join them. She came running up to Kate’s car about five minutes later, laughing hysterically.
“Oh my God! You guys won’t believe what I just saw! Mark Austin’s car…oh oh!”
“Okay Melissa, get a hold of yourself. Spit it out.” Kate put her hands on Melissa’s shoulders in an attempt to calm her laughter. Her mascara was starting to run because of the tears streaming down her cheeks and Kate gave me a look that said, “See? Makeup is a pain.”
“All the tires were taken off and one was put in each of the seats…buckled up!! And there’s black stuff like shoe polish or something on the windshield that says…that says…” She promptly burst into another lengthy gale of laughter, one that lasted some minutes before she could finish. “It says, ‘FYI, I’m not contagious anymore, the rash is almost gone, so the ointment is working’ Oh, I’m dying…I can’t breathe!”
Wiping at her face, Melissa dragged us over to see the carnage for ourselves and we in turn laughed about it the whole way to Pete’s house for his party. It’s kind of poetic, don’t you think? And yes, it could be a coincidence, but I’m going to text Derek right now to ask about my little sister’s whereabouts during the game just in case.
9.
An Open Invitation To Take My Clothes Off
Thanks to the vandalism and people choosing to loiter in the parking lot to look at and/or share it with the world via Facebook, we got to Pete’s before a ton of other people did, which was kind of nice. I’d found out shortly after that first party I went to that aside from a special occasion here and there, Melissa doesn’t drink. That being the case, she’d offered to be designated driver tonight. In turn that meant Kate was free to indulge, and because I wasn’t going home tonight, I decided to join her. I’m not planning on going nuts, but I figure I can let my hair down a little bit. I mean, I seriously doubt having a couple of beers at a party is going to be a bury-able event, you know?
We were sitting in Pete’s kitchen playing the quarter game again and although I was still more than pleased with my skills, the others were playing pretty well, too. By the time my fiancé showed up an hour and a half later, I was a good ways done with my third beer. And you know what? I actually felt fine. I can’t imagine how much of this stuff kids have to consume to wind up behaving like out of control lunatics, but, it must be a lot.
Kate and I abandoned the game when the guys showed up and we went to socialize outside with them and the rest of the raucous partygoers. There were several other events taking place so there weren’t as many people as there’d been at that first party or at Mike’s and because of that, the environment was more—for lack of a better word—intimate. Although that really doesn’t describe it well. People were catapulting themselves off the roof of the small-ish guesthouse into the pool and someone; I actually think Pete himself is responsible for this, put Mr. Bubble in the hot tub. It seemed like Tristan was acting kind of wishy-washy and, of course I could be way off base about this, I got the feeling he was vacillating between wanting to pay attention to me, finding another girl to play with, or hiding. I gotta say, it’s a little annoying.
God, Fate, Destiny…whatever you want to attribute what happened next to, forced him to make a decision—at least for a time.
I’d gotten kinda warm so I’d taken my hoodie off and left it, along with my cell phone, on a lounge chair by the pool. The four of us were standing amongst a larger group of people; I had my back to the pool, and even though he wasn’t really paying attention to me or even facing me for that matter, Tristan was on one side of me, Jeff was on the other, and Kate was opposite us, making it like a little clique within a clique.
“Hey Camie, you have a text,” Kate said, hearing my general text ringtone which just so happens to be the song “Please Mr. Postman” by The Marvelettes.
“Oh, who is it?” I asked.
“It’s from Derek.”
All of a sudden, Tristan went rigid, almost like he was on full alert. A sinister laugh echoed in my head as having forgotten all about
the question I’d asked Derek earlier, I suddenly realized the potential promise this opportunity held before me...if I dared take it. I mean why not? Let’s do a little experiment, shall we?
I mentally crossed my fingers. “Read it, what’s his answer?”
She giggled and then said, “It says ‘Yes. 30 min or so. Luv u shark bait.’ Does that make sense to you?”
“Yes.” With a huge grin, I watched Kate put my phone back in my sweatshirt pocket and tried my absolute best not to give anything away.
God, I so love my cryptic cousin!! You see, the question I’d asked went something like this; did Jillian disappear during the game, and if so, for how long? However, Derek’s answer wasn’t quite the most informational text in the world, and it could’ve easily been misconstrued by someone who might think my cousin and I have a thing going. Especially when you add in the ringtone, which is pretty much a doo-wop love song. I just happen to find it funny as a ringtone for text messages. And I just love the term of endearment he used for me, don’t you? Not to mention he threw in the “I love you” part which just makes it so much more intriguing.
Just when I was being questioned about the meaning by both Jeff and Tristan—intriguing in itself—a couple of other party attendants tried to walk through the narrow space between the guys, Kate, and myself. They bumped into Tristan first, then when they turned around to apologize to him, their shoulders shoved me and I was forced to take a few steps backwards, placing my heels right on the very edge of the pool.
Shark Bait (The Grab Your Pole Series) Page 13