Shark Bait (The Grab Your Pole Series)

by Cooksey, Jenn

  “What asshole would that be, Zack?” I asked, realizing that Conner and Brenna have abandoned me, leaving me alone with Zack in the shadows of the trees to the side of the stage.

  “Tristan the pool boy.” Again with the lack of creativity...

  “Zack, I swear to God, you need to take your hand off me right now...he’s gonna have a massive conniption fit and end up hit—”

  “Oh God, he didn’t hit you, too, did he?”

  Oh my God…he can’t be freaking serious! Zack let my arm go, but only so he could remove my sunglasses, and then he dropped them in the grass at our feet. Man, they’re having a rough day today! And really, how stupid is he?

  I’m gonna go with severely because he then began to check my face for bruises.

  “NO! But my boyfriend happens to have this odd aversion to other guys touching me, which I’m totally okay with in some circumstances, this being one of them. And if you’ll remember correctly, your nose and his fist aren’t the best of friends. Besides, from the look of it, a stiff breeze will make that thing bleed again and I really don’t want blood on my clothes…that’s a bitch of a stain to get out.”

  It’s like he’s not even listening because in his search for bruises, he’s gotten a hold of my arm again and found my Sharpie tattoo under my shirtsleeve and he’s absorbed in trying to figure out what it means.

  “This is pretty cool lookin’…what’s it all mean?”

  I’m starting to not only get kind of panicked, but also, pretty irate. “Seriously Zack, I’m gonna hit you myself if you don’t let go of me… Rain Man had more sense than you and he was a retard!” I snapped, my wording and inflection being inspired from a line used in The Hangover.

  As soon as the word retard was out of my mouth, though, I heard Tristan’s unmistakable laughter come from behind me. I had to turn my head around practically like an owl to see him leaning against the trunk of a tree, laughing his ass off, which honestly almost made me as mad as the idiot who’s now staring at me like he’s trying to decide if my attempts to pull away from him are some form of masochistic flirting.

  “Oh God, Camie, please hit him…I’d so love that,” Tristan said as he wiped tears from his eyes.

  Zack’s upper lip curled into an angry sneer and then he dismissively spat out, “Fuck you, Daniels.”

  “Come on, Camie, hit him…for me?”

  This is bad. Tristan thinks this whole thing is pretty funny, but Zack is still clueless and he’s getting pissed, and I’m caught in the middle. I was considering my options when Zack opened his big fat mouth again. No lie, his upper lip is cut and still a little swollen. Oh, and I think we’re starting to draw attention from people who are in hearing range. I’m not sure, though, because Mike’s fiddling with a sound system of some kind and there’s a lot of feedback coming from the stage where he’s setting up. Ugh, the awards ceremony that I didn’t get to vote in. I’m still irked about that...

  “What makes you fuckin’ think she’d do anything you ask her to?! You made out with Lindsey Gilmore at that party while Camie watched, you totally treated her like fuckin’ shit last week, and then from what I was told about the rest of Mike’s party, you raged at her the whole night…I was just checking her for bruises. So really, shouldn’t she be hitting you? Or are you too much of a pussy to let her get even? Go on, Camie, hit him…he’s a dick and he fuckin’ deserves it.”

  What the hell is happening here? Although I haven’t heard any gossiping buzz about us which is weird, I find it so ludicrous that Zack has yet to figure out that Tristan and I are totally together even though I told him with my own mouth, and now he’s actually trying to get me to punch my boyfriend in semi-plain view of the school lunch crowd! I mean really, WTF?!

  Seeing my angry expression, Tristan’s underwent some major changes to look about as mad as I am. In fact, he looks pretty freaking pissed—at me.

  His eyes shifted color again; he lifted an eyebrow, unclenched his teeth and with an extremely callous and arrogant air that’s very reminiscent of when he called me a bitch the other night, he said, “You wanna take a swing at me? Come on baby, gimme your best shot.”

  I think my life has turned into a damned soap opera…

  Seeing Tristan so mad at me over Zack’s reminder of his behavior last week, like it was all entirely my fault, had me seeing red. I yanked my arm from Zack—well, it was more like he consented to let me go, the jackass—I tossed my hair over my shoulder and then like I was gonna deck him—because by then, I wanted to—I marched up to Tristan who, seeing my angry approach, then dropped the cell phone he’d been holding to the ground and pushed off of the tree he’d been leaning on. I’m pretty sure Tristan knew what he’d done by deliberately provoking my temper like that because the second I got within contact range, I took one look at his face as I raised my hand and then instead of hitting him, I grabbed the back of his head and it was almost exactly like we were back in that room at Mike’s house, venting all of our anger on each other through one rather fierce kiss.

  I must say; it was a smart, but risky move on his part.

  I wonder if sap is as hard to get out of clothes as blood is. Confused about how I go from being immersed in kissing to contemplating domestic endeavors such as laundry? Well, I just realized Tristan had turned us around and now has me pinned against the damned tree. And when he did that, I haven’t the foggiest clue so don’t ask.

  He wrenched his mouth from mine and with a bit of effort he said, “So I can’t even leave you alone for like five minutes.”

  “It’s not my fault…no one seems to know yet. But um…about that safeword…I think we might need it sooner rather than later.”

  Not that I’d be coherent enough to use it. He’s totally got one hand under my shirt with a decent amount of my right breast in his palm—I never even felt my bra come unhooked—and the other is once again, holding the back of my thigh, thereby keeping my leg wrapped around his waist. And I really hate to admit where my hands are. But, I will admit I couldn’t resist making the elastic snap back into place when I removed them from his—Good Lord!—heaven sent derrière. Also, I don’t know where the heck they came from, but thank You, Jesus for Jeff, Pete, and of all people, Conner! They’re keeping us from being seen by pretty much everyone by standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder in a semi-circle with their backs to us.

  “Ya think?” Tristan said, resting his forehead against mine, continuing to catch his breath.

  “Where’d you go anyway?”

  “Mm. I got you something.” He kissed me again, but this time when he pulled his mouth away after having left me a parting gift, he waggled his eyebrows at me and then said, “You know I’ll never not have gum again, right?”

  I blew a bubble in response.

  He groaned in frustration.

  “What contest in hell did I win to end up with you?”

  “Thunderdome, baby. Like you said, God’s got a wicked sense of humor…”

  He started cracking up again when I winked at him and blew another bubble.

  “Are you two finished making some kind of pornographic point to Zack? Your bodyguard would like to go sit down before the awards ceremony is over.”

  “Hey, where’d he go anyway?” I just realized that Zack is totally gone…I never even heard a response from him, but I’m sure he must’ve had something to say about that whole thing.

  “Oh, well, when you orally accosted my best friend it looked like he was about to say or maybe do something about it, but then Trist felt you up with one hand and flipped him off with the other so he kinda stormed off. The look on his face was priceless though...I hope the picture I took with my phone comes out clear enough.”

  Great. Can’t wait to see that plastered all over freaking Facebook.

  I looked at Tristan’s overly smug expression and when he saw me glaring at him, he shrugged his shoulders. “You can’t say I broke the contract because technically, you started it. Besides, your clothes are still on.”
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  “You baited me.”

  The big jerk totally did all that on purpose. There’s no doubt in my mind that he was angry as hell, but he was never angry with me.

  “I told you the gloves were off.”

  He also warned me he knows the rules better and it might be dangerous to tease him. I hope I’ve learned my lesson, but knowing me, I kind of doubt it.

  “You’re an ass, but, better safe than sorry…up please.” I lifted my arms so he could pick me up again. Which he did without question and at the same time, he re-hooked my poor, confused bra. Honestly, it mustn’t have any idea why it keeps getting almost taken off only to be re-hooked shortly thereafter. It’s kinda sad. And yeah, I suppose we could just hold hands to get the message out, but this seems to have sort of become our thing, and well… Oh who am I kidding? It rocks!

  Kate and Melissa had saved some space on the grass in front of the stage and I was so happy to discover we’d only missed two minor awards. The whole event was a riot. Mike was wearing an actual tuxedo and to be heard, he was using a microphone. He’d also actually picked songs to go with the awards that were in sealed envelopes. And in a beautiful, floor-length gown, Kristen was handing the envelopes out to last year’s award recipient after Mike introduced them. That is, if the award had been given out before and if the previous winner(s) were present. The previous winner would then announce the new winner and hand over the award. Most of the actual awards themselves are black metal picture frames with the name of the award, the recipient’s name, the date of the party, and a jack-o-lantern all engraved on them in metallic orange. They also have a picture of the winner or winners already in place as well.

  Melissa told me that during the opening ceremonies, Mike made a couple of inside jokes only party attendees would get; one was about the body shots, which probably would’ve pissed Tristan off so I’m glad we missed it. Then he thanked the voting panel and the paparazzi that’d “graciously” taken all the photos. Before the awards got under way, I guess Mike also let everyone know that DVD copies of all the party pictures are available for purchase with proceeds to benefit a group of missionaries in Africa or something like that. I’m dying to see some of them but I’m also kind of scared. It seemed like those cameras were going off constantly.

  So anyway, as the previous winners and the category were announced, there was subsequently much excited chitchatting and anxious speculation going on about who would be the winners this year. As and far as the awards themselves go, there were several, but here are some of the best:

  ~ Can’t Hold Their Liquor ~

  Song: “Alcohol” by Barenaked Ladies

  (That went to the first person to pass out who was this guy, Jason Kendall. He also still has the Sharpie mustache.)

  Funniest Costume

  Song: “Plexiglas Toilet” by Styx

  (Obviously that went to Jeff. By the end of the night/morning there was so much graffiti and “potty poetry” on him, people had resorted to writing on his arms, neck, and pants. Oh and the song is so damned funny…really, you should look up the lyrics.)

  An Awkward Morning Is Better Than A Boring Night

  Song: “I Don’t Even Know Your Name” by Alan Jackson

  (I was a little concerned I was going to get irritated again when Tristan had to get up and hand this award out, which are t-shirts similar to his, but I had to laugh when Jeff stood up to go with him. Apparently there’s a story there… Anyway, this was awarded to Stephanie Miller and Lance Paulson. They woke up in bed with each other but didn’t know how they got there. Or, what they did together. —Yikes. Now I really want to know the story!)

  Best Original Costume

  Song: “Arabian Nights” from the Aladdin Soundtrack

  (You already know that Pete, Melissa, Kate, and I won this one, but the picture was taken when we were fawning over him with the grapes and palm frond…it’s pretty cute. Pete accepted the award on behalf of the four of us.)

  ~ Yeah Sure, We Won’t Tell Anyone ~

  Song: “Our Lips Are Sealed” by The Go-Go’s

  (Ah. This is why Brenna and Conner were holding hands; the picture is of them right after Tristan had extradited them from the bedroom. In fact, you can see his back and my hair just inside the door at the edge of the picture. During their acceptance speech, Brenna told her friends she was done sneaking around so they could just get over it. I whistled and clapped.)

  Best Place To Land A Fist

  Song: “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC

  (Hilarious! Now contrary to who you may think this award went to, it wasn’t Zack. Well, not exactly…it went to his nose. His nose actually won the award! The award itself isn’t a frame or anything like that either; it’s a basketball with a picture of Zack’s bloody nose blown up and glued on it with an actual piece of medical tape over it on the picture, and there’re drawn on eyes and a mouth. And it’s wearing a wig. I was sitting on Tristan’s lap and had to duck when Mike presented Tristan with the award by tossing it to him. Then Mike made a short announcement about the “broken or not broken” bet winnings being paid out after school.)

  The last award to be handed out was the one I was a tad bit nervous about because I didn’t know what to expect from everyone watching…

  Most Memorable Moment

  Boy vs. Girl in the World Series of Love

  Song: “U Got The Look” by Prince

  (Traditionally, the memorable moment is engraved on the award but since Mike had called it a draw, he decided to combine all of the nominated episodes and gave it the above title that is actually a line from the song.)

  I climbed aboard Tristan and he carried me up to the stage to get our award amid much clapping and whistling. Actually, a bunch of people even got to their feet to cheer. Since I was totally blushing—Yeah yeah, I know. I’m not disturbed by probably having tree bark in my hair but being on stage to accept an award I totally earned embarrasses me…whatever.—I was really hoping not to have to make an acceptance speech like everyone else had, so I pretty much kept my face buried in Tristan’s neck. He, on the other hand, had no problem talking into the microphone. It wasn’t so much of an “I’d like to thank the Academy” kind of speech though, as it was addressed to all the gossips in the lunch crowd.

  “Alright, do we have any gossipmongers out there? Come on, don’t be shy…lemme see you raise your hands…”

  I started cracking up because I looked over my shoulder and saw several of my friends and acquaintances holding their hands in the air, looking a little confused and slightly guilty.

  “Ah, there you are. I gotta say, I’m a little disappointed in you guys, so listen up... As much as I’d love to wear my girlfriend like a shirt 24/7, it’s a little impractical and I’m sure the school administration will eventually call it a dress code violation, not that I give a shit about what they say, but the point is, you have my express permission to spread the word about Camie and me…so go on, talk amongst yourselves. Oh yeah, glad we could make your guys’ night. And Kristen, I’m sorry for threatening to rip the film outta that camera…it’s an awesome picture.”

  I was confused about that last part, but when Tristan handed me the award so he could take something else Kristen was handing him, I saw the picture in our frame is one of me sleeping and using his bare chest as a pillow. He’s on his back kind of propped up on the pillows with his eyes closed and his arms are wrapped snugly around me. Apparently she snuck in to get the shot and that prompted our changing of sides in bed, but with the angle from which it was taken, the blanket, and the position of his arms, you’d have to look really closely to tell I’m topless as well.

  I totally agree with him too, it’s an awesome picture. It’s also the center picture in a large-ish collage-type picture frame that has photos of every one of our nominated public displays, including a shot of me trying to tear out of Melissa’s arms during the fight and a great one of Tristan hitting Zack. Kristen told us they weren’t totally sure what the situation would be with us
today, but she and Mike really wanted to give each of us something and they had all these fantastic photos, so she put the collage together.

  The bell rang ending the festivities and, being that it is Halloween, the extended lunch period which was lengthened due to an optional, school-wide costume contest that had taken place in the “old gym” where we have assemblies and stuff. The ceremony attendees disbanded and Tristan walked me part way to the “new gym” where we actually do P.E. and sports. Then he gave me a sweet kiss goodbye and told me he’d see me after seventh period.

  I was watching him walk away, admiring his aforementioned heaven sent derrière, and when I turned around, I practically collided with the Trollop Triplets and Michele. I was still high from everything that happened over lunch though. I mean for crying out loud, I not only have a tattooed commitment from Tristan with his signature on it, but he used a freaking microphone to announce that I’m his girlfriend! It just don’t get no better!

  So when Teresa opened her mouth to admonish me in some abusive way, I popped off with, “Hey there, Teresa! How’s the liver?”

  “You’re such a fuckin’ skanky bitch.” She’s calling me a skank? She who flaunts her thongs in front of everyone with eyes? Hysterical! “So who are ya gonna get to stop the rumors for you now? There’s no way anyone will deny all of that! You’re never gonna live down what happened at that party.”

  Huh. She must’ve missed the awards. Well, I guess I should enlighten her then.

  “Why would I wanna deny anything that happened? Actually, I was hoping to run into you, just not quite literally…don’t wanna get your fleas and all…but if you could do me a favor when you spread your rumors this time, could you please be sure to mention that I got an award? See?” Since Tristan has the collage with him, I held up the engraved picture frame for her to gape at. “I mean come on, there was voting and even a song! Oh! And you can call me a bitch all you want, but again, please don’t forget to mention that I’m a bitch with one smokin’ hot boyfriend. We even have matching tattoos, except of course, that’s Tristan’s signature…I signed him.” This time I pulled my shirtsleeve up to bare my arm to the shoulder so she could get a good look at Tristan’s signed artwork. “Anyway, it’d be super if you could make sure to work all that in there, he and I would really appreciate it, thanks! See you guys later!”