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Shark Bait (The Grab Your Pole Series)

Page 35

by Cooksey, Jenn


  You should be able to understand my confusion on this point. After all, the most physical contact we’ve ever had in front of kids we go to school with was at Mike’s Saturday night, and that was more like a hostage situation without a gun or a blindfold.

  “Mm-hmm.” He lifted me up and then set me on the trunk of his car.

  “Uh, what about your aversion to PDA?”

  Before he brought his lips to mine—with people watching!—I think he might’ve mumbled an answer to the effect of “shut up and kiss me,” but I’m really not sure.

  Seeing as how I was indifferent once again, I’ve no idea what reaction the kids in the parking lot had to our public make-out session in which Tristan did a stellar job of prohibiting his hands from wandering by keeping them firmly planted on either side of me on the trunk. Although he and I were less than thrilled with the interruption and news that it was time to begin matriculating, I bet anyone who saw how Jeff got our attention probably got a good giggle out of it.

  We both mumbled a mid-kiss “fuck off” when Jeff tapped us on the shoulders but instead of saying anything to us in response, he physically turned Tristan who only picked me up as I wrapped my legs around his waist so he could take me with him. Then Jeff guided us out of the parking lot and because Tristan can multitask so well, that was how we made our way onto campus and down to our lockers…never once having had our lips separated.

  I honestly don’t know how he can walk and kiss at the same time, but I’m really coming to appreciate that particular talent of his.

  Tristan, quite literally, dropped me off at my locker and then Jeff, quite literally, dragged him off to their first period class they have with Kate, who I have yet to see this morning. I opened my locker to get my math book and thought for a moment I had the wrong one because there was a picture inside the door that hadn’t been there before. When I stopped to look at it though, I recognized it’s actually a photo of Phineas and Ferb. It looked like they’d been posed sitting next to each other and were staring up at the camera with big kitty eyes, and there’s a message in a cartoon bubble written over their heads like they’re speaking that says, “We miss you. Please come home.” So, obviously Tristan had managed to get in my locker, but I’ve no idea when or how. I was about to text him and ask but he beat me to the punch again…

  Tristan: wanna make out? :-p :-*

  Of course my reply was “of course” and all thought of what I was going to ask him evaporated. We spent most of first period covertly text kissing back and forth until I got a text towards the end of class that I read as him being frustrated, which I found pretty funny.

  Tristan: fuck this. meet me @ stage after class :-*

  Me: what 4? :-*

  Tristan: signing bonus! :-p :-*

  I have no idea what he has in mind because we only have like seven minutes in between classes, but hey, I’m game! I honestly would’ve been quite content to sit in the parking lot all day kissing him so if he wants to smooch a little in between class, then I’m all for that! This is so the best morning ever! I really think I should take back what I previously said about Mondays because this one? Yeah, pretty freaking phenomenal!

  The last ten minutes of class sucked, though. I’d completely forgotten to be concerned with rumors about Saturday night, but when our make-out session ended, all of a sudden I felt exposed. It was like I’d been in a protective bubble that shielded me somehow and now that I’m alone again I can’t help but feel like everyone is staring at me. They aren’t, but that doesn’t seem to make any difference and the damned hands on the clock refuse to move forward. I swear it’s taunting me. Add to that my giddy anticipation about seeing Tristan in eight-ish minutes and my stomach is a mess again. When the bell finally rang, I nearly bolted for the door. Or at least I tried to.

  “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you like that,” I told the girl I’d just practically barreled into, causing her to drop her purse and a binder. I think her name is Brenna, but again, not sure…

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said, but just as I was edging around her, she grabbed my arm.

  I felt like screaming, “Oh for the love of God, I only have seven minutes, Brenna(?)!!! Let me go!” I just looked at her instead.

  “Hey, I just wanted to tell you that I think you guys are gonna be really good together.”

  “Huh?”

  “You and Tristan. I’ve been pullin’ for you guys. I missed what happened at Mike’s after Tristan kicked me and Conner out of the room, but I saw you guys in the parking lot so I’m guessing you two are finally really together now.”

  Oh.

  OH…

  “Uh, yeah, we are. Um, I’m really sorry about that whole thing…”

  I wish I were still sunburned so no one could see my face heating up. I mean jeez, what do you say in a situation like this? Yeah, sorry for my boyfriend being “rude” and threatening to watch you and your boyfriend have sex if you didn’t leave in ten seconds? Probably not...

  “Oh, it’s okay, really. Just um…if you could just not say anything about that I’d appreciate it. My friends really don’t like him and they’re gonna throw a fit the second they find out we got back together so we’re kinda trying to keep things quiet for a while.”

  “I won’t. Honestly, I didn’t even know who was in that room…all I could see was carpet.” I felt like saying “good luck with that” but refrained because I got the feeling Brenna(?) is in the middle of her own tug of war battle except she’s the rope, which I imagine sucks royally when your friends and your boyfriend are the ones pulling you in opposite directions.

  “Thanks. You know, you’re really lucky you have Kate…Melissa too. It sucks having to sneak around behind your friends’ backs so you can be with the guy you really like.”

  “Yeah, they’re the best. Hey Brenna? I’m sorry, I really do gotta run but it kinda sounds like maybe you could use a friend who won’t judge you, so if you ever wanna talk or hang out, lemme know.”

  “Thanks Camie. I’ll see you later.”

  Whew! She didn’t correct me on her name, so I must’ve guessed right. That deserves a little celebratory happy dance, don’t you think?

  I dashed out of the classroom with only four minutes left; thinking about all the complexities of a teenager’s life that up until a month ago, I’d no idea even existed. However, all those deep thoughts flew from my mind on first sight of Tristan sitting on the stage talking to Jeff. He was twirling his car keys around one finger but as soon as he saw me, a slow grin spread across his face and he tossed his keys to Jeff who then turned around and began walking my way.

  I think I heard Tristan say something like “If you beat us there, this’ll be the first and last time you ever drive it.”

  “He might try, but don’t let him talk you into skipping fourth. He’s got a test in trig that he shouldn’t miss.”

  That was it. Nothing else. No “hi” or anything. He didn’t even stop or make eye contact when he said it which gave me the impression he didn’t want Tristan to know, so, rather than staring at Jeff’s departing back with my mouth agape as I felt like doing, I continued over to Tristan, more than a little curious to know what he has up his sleeve.

  Turns out, I needn’t have worried about the whole seven minute thing…

  I glanced at my watch and inwardly groaned. I have three minutes to get to class which leaves practically no time for anything other than waving hi and goodbye. Tristan stood up and I opened my mouth to apologize for not getting there earlier, but he kissed me and before I knew it, he was multitasking again.

  The sound of the bell ringing for class to start had me opening my eyes and bemoaning the thought of another tardy on my record. I didn’t stop kissing him, though. Well, not until he put me down.

  “What was that sound for?”

  “I’m late for class…again.”

  “You can’t be late if you don’t go.”

  This is true…

  24.
/>   God Has A Wicked Sense Of Humor

  So come to find out, Tristan’s signing bonus entailed ditching both second and third periods. Having never even considered ditching school, well, needless to say, I’m a little apprehensive. He assured me it’d be a piece of cake, what with him having auto-shop second period where the students essentially have a free pass off campus whenever they want to “presumably” run to the auto parts store or test their work. And then with Jeff having office aid for third period, that would get us back on campus with legitimate passes and gives him the ability to doctor our attendance records to make them show we were in class when we weren’t. I’m just gonna have to trust him on this stuff, though, because if I think about all the ways this could—to use one of Tristan’s phrases—come back to bite me in the ass, I’ll totally chicken out.

  Jeff delivered Tristan’s car to where we were waiting in auto-shop, then we got in it without being questioned by anyone and left school as the shop teacher, Mr. Caswell, looked on and waved. Tristan made one stop at the 7-11 by school for some snacks and a couple of Sharpie markers, and then from there we headed up to the top of Mt. Helix, which has an enormous cross perched on the top of it and the same view of the valley below that Tristan’s bedroom window does, only better. Knowing that our destination is infamous for being a kind of “Inspiration Point” like in the old TV show Happy Days where people go to make out, I gotta admit, I was conflicted by the expectation of having our new contract put to the test. Surprisingly though, it really wasn’t. We did do some smooching here and there, but mostly we just talked and I discovered that Tristan was being kind of literal about signing a contract. Only, it wasn’t on paper.

  He’d been doing some doodling during first period apparently, and liked what he came up with so much; he decided that we should tattoo our commitment to each other with Sharpie to effectively seal the deal in writing. He really wanted to put mine on my ass—Yeah I know, of course he did—but I reminded him that would be a violation of said contract, so he settled for my upper arm, which is where his is going as well.

  So, sitting together on the brick wall overlooking the back half of La Mesa and Spring Valley while refining his rough draft, drawing on each other and eating powdered donuts, we took full advantage of the time we had alone. Not fighting or arguing or teasing or making out, we simply talked about pretty much everything under the sun. At one point during our conversation however, some of the happenings of Saturday night came up again and we ventured into the subject of how strongly and physically we react to each other when we fight.

  “I was actually thinking the same thing about what happens when we fight, do you know why that is? I mean, is it normal?” He’s kind of the expert here, but he didn’t have an answer the other night for why we become indifferent to everything around us when we kiss, so maybe he won’t for this either.

  “Eh, I’m not totally sure what that’s about, because like the kissing thing, I’ve never experienced it before but, I have a theory…wanna hear it?”

  My mouth is currently filled with donut so all could get out was, “Mm-hm.”

  “Okay, well I think we’re so right together that when we argue we’re really fighting a losing battle against innate attraction, kinda like magnets. You know how magnets repel each other when they’re on the wrong side but the second they’re flipped, they come crashing together and it takes a hell of a lot to peel ‘em apart ag—”

  “Wait, did you get this magnet theory from reading the Twilight Saga?” I have to know.

  “Uh, no. I’ll admit to being a fan of Buffy, but that’s as far as I go with the vampire shit…actually, I think I got the magnet thing from watching The Cutting Edge a couple weeks ago, but anyway…”

  Tristan stuck the sharpie in his mouth, scrutinizing the artwork on my arm for a moment and then he went back to his drawing and theorizing. I have a feeling my tattoo is going to look a lot better than his…I can’t draw to save my life. In fact, here…I’ll just show you.

  I added the part “There Can Be Only One,” it’s a tagline from the movie or TV show Highlander, which doesn’t actually have anything to do with Tristan or me, I just like the phrasing. It sounds way better than something like “Don’t forget you’re in a committed relationship now and can’t go off and screw random girls anymore.” The tattoo Tristan is doing on me is way better and more detailed…I think he might be adding flames and stuff to it right now. Anyway, just thought I’d share my hideous artistic ability with you.

  “Um, where was I? Oh yeah… Plus, there isn’t anything about us being together that isn’t extremely intense in some way, you know? Regardless of what’s goin’ on, there’s always been electricity between us…like static electricity, we’re just drawn to each other. It was even like that for me over the summer and I didn’t know a damned thing about you... Honestly Camie, I think if you’d ever seen me one of those times, we’d have gotten together on the spot.”

  “Really? Because you pretty much ignored me my first week and I definitely saw you that first morning. And you know, it’s kinda funny you used electricity to describe it because that’s exactly what I remember feeling the first time I saw you…I remember feeling like I’d been jolted by lightning and then in the ocean too, but that was even more profound…I was thinking we would’ve made Ben Franklin jealous.”

  You know, he’s always made me distinctly nervous in so many ways, but when it comes right down to it, I’ve also always been very comfortable with him. It’s a total conundrum that I just can’t explain, but I think that’s why I’ve always been able to talk to him and not sound like a blithering idiot.

  He stopped drawing on me to laugh. “Yeah, I got zapped pretty fuckin’ hard when I grabbed your arm to keep you from falling that morning, but don’t forget, I had a good head start and once you showed up for real, I was well on my way to being totally freaked out by you, so that’s primarily why I went slow and ignored you in the beginning. Also, I wasn’t sure what you were actually like as a person so I didn’t wanna dive in headfirst and then find out you were a shallow bitch, because that would’ve sucked.

  And yeah, I almost came unglued that time in the ocean…and then when I kissed you and everything just sorta melted away, I didn’t know what the fuck to think. I’m honestly surprised I even heard my phone ring. Really Camie, there’s weird chemistry between us.”

  And now I have Oingo Boingo’s song “Weird Science” as well as scenes from the movie playing in my head…talk about being weird.

  “You really have no idea the amount of self control and restraint I’ve maintained over the last month…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, let’s see…I’ve wanted to kill Zack from the very first day, then I made myself leave the football game you went to with Derek for similar reasons, and then all I wanted to do at that first party was drag you off somewhere away from the mass of people. Then at Mike’s I was pretty irritated with Wayne and those guys for being where no one should’ve been, but I did semi-seriously consider talking you into joining that strip poker game (I knew it!), which I’m still kinda regretting not doing (of course he is…), and all of that was only the first week.

  “The next week was worse because I had a better idea of what you were like and that episode by Pete’s pool was such a great opportunity, I couldn’t resist, but then you started taking your clothes off...I had such mixed feelings about where I wanted to go with that...and then you actually asked me to take your fuckin’ pants off! You nearly killed me with that you know.”

  I love that he’s being honest and everything, but I’d be lying if I said that he’s instilling the belief that he’s not all about sex at this point…which I know he’s not, I just can’t seem to get past my concern that he’ll bail if I don’t give in relatively soon.

  “Okay, you just got really quiet, what’s wrong?”

  I sighed in response.

  “Come on, Camie, we’re talking so just spit it out…I know somet
hing’s buggin’ you.”

  “Well, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be open with me about stuff, but…” I couldn’t finish. I totally want us to be able to talk about everything, but I really don’t want to sound so prudish…it’s kind of embarrassing. I mean, here he is with so much more experience, and well, I guess I’m just afraid to sound stupid or that he’ll think I’m being immature.

  “Alright, I think I know what this is about. Camie, look…I’m not an idiot, I know there’s a part of you that gets a little nervous about…how did you put it earlier? Oh yeah, my proclivities. I don’t know why that is and I really don’t think you need to be, and I know I don’t want you to be, but here’s the thing, we need to be able to talk to each other without it being weird.”

  He has a point.

  “Okay, you’re right. I just don’t wanna come off sounding, I don’t know…like a total prude I guess, but I do get a little freaked out about your level of experience compared to mine…I mean for the love of God, you were the first person I’ve ever even kissed! So I guess I’m just afraid you have expectations I’m not prepared to meet right now and probably won’t be for quite some time.”

  Whew! I said it. Wow, that was really hard… I watched Tristan’s face as that somewhat embarrassing, but pertinent, information I’d divulged sank in, and for some reason, I was a sort of taken aback when one side of his mouth lifted slowly into a “cat who just ate the canary” type of grin while his eyes both sparkled and deepened almost imperceptibly. I don’t know what reaction I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.

  “Um, you’re kinda just staring at me…and since you wanna talk without it being weird, it’s your turn to tell me what’s going through your mind.” God, I really hope I didn’t make a mistake in telling him that.

 

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