by Lila Rose
My hand went to my mouth and I excused myself from the table, running out to get to the bathroom in time.
Thankfully, I made it, only nothing came up. After retching for a while, I went to the sink and splashed water on my face; it helped a little, but the nauseous feeling wouldn’t go away. Maybe I was really getting sick, or was it the thought of Tristan and Sarah together.
How could one boy make me so crazy?
It didn’t matter; somehow, I had to get him out of my head. He belonged with Sarah. In more ways than one.
I went through the rest of the day like a zombie; in the end, my art teacher told me to go home because I looked pale and didn’t want anyone else catching anything. On my way out, I texted Sarah and Corbet, telling them both that I wasn’t feeling well and I’d see them tomorrow.
I got home to an empty house—nothing unusual there. I went to run a nice warm bath, hoping it would relax me and take the stress away that I was causing my own self.
It had, and it wasn’t until I was in my room getting dressed into tracksuit pants and a jumper that I heard two voices coming from the kitchen.
“Dad?” I called.
“Hi, honey. I finished early so I thought I’d get take-out for us. Come and eat.”
I stomped out into the kitchen and froze. Leaning against the bench was Tristan.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed.
“Alex,” Dad said sternly.
“Sorry. It’s…uh, I just thought you worked Wednesday nights?”
Like Tuesday nights!
“I have a couple of days off while it’s quiet,” he explained, a smile tugging at his lips.
“I saw Tristan down the street while getting Chinese. He asked how you were feeling after leaving school; I said I didn’t know you were unwell. How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I told Dad, and then asked Tristan, “How did you know?”
He shrugged and said, “Sarah.”
Of course. I nodded and looked to the floor.
“I asked Tristan to eat with us. I hope that’s okay.”
I shrugged and then shook my head and said, “Well, I’m sick. I mean, I’d hate anyone else to catch it.”
“Cooties never bothered me.” Tristan smiled. The look in his eyes made me blush. I nodded and sat at the table.
Tristan and my father kept the conversation going through dinner. I sat silently and listened to them talking about work, sports, family (mainly his), and then Dad brought up the subject of Sarah. I could not believe it.
“So how are things with Sarah going? I mean, I know she’s a handful—”
“Dad,” I yipped, but Tristan just laughed.
“It’s all right, Alex. I admit, she is full on, but we’re only at the start, so who knows.”
“Good luck with it anyway.”
“Dad!”
I was appalled. Dad had never understood my relationship with Sarah. He saw the huge difference between us. But I was never one to knock back a friendship; it was hard for me to make them in the first place, so who was I to argue when Sarah chose Corbet and me to spend time with?
Dad cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’ll clean up here; how about you take Tristan into the lounge? I’m sure he’d like to watch that football game that’s on.”
“I’m sure Tristan has better things to do,” I said as I stood from the table.
“No, not really. A football game sounds good.” He got up from the table and followed me into the formal lounge.
“Take him into the other lounge; it has a bigger television, Alexandra,” Dad yelled.
I let out a sigh and went down to the back of the house where the comfortable lounge was. Where Sarah, Corbet, and I loved watching our DVDs. I flopped down onto the couch, leaving Tristan to pick from many other chairs, but he sat next to me. Pulling my legs up, I wrapped my arms around them and turned on the television to find the right channel.
Quietly, I sat there; I could feel Tristan’s gaze on me, but I refused to meet it. Why had he accepted my dad’s invitation for dinner? This was the last thing I needed when I already couldn’t get him out of my head.
Stuff that stupid thank you kiss.
Because all I could think when picturing that kiss in my mind was an image of him and Sarah together. All those warm, fuzzy feelings I had for him were soon squished, and instead it left me angry and sick.
“Alex.”
“Yes.”
“Have I made you upset for being here?”
I looked down at my knees and mentally groaned. Even though the guy was driving me insane inside, I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t like his company. It was my own fault for getting stupid feelings for him in the first place.
Sighing, I said, “No. I know we’re friends and friends come to each other’s place. So no, I get it. Only, I think I’m going to have to tell Sarah about it, and at least it was my dad inviting you over. I didn’t do it—I mean, not that I wouldn’t have. Actually, I don’t know if I would have, but it just makes it easier for me to tell Sarah, and then at least she shouldn’t be upset with me, right?” I asked and then shook my head. “No, she shouldn’t.”
“Why do you care so much if you upset her? It’s like you worry about what she’d do.”
“No, no, that’s not it. I mean, it is; of course it is. I do care if I upset her; that’s what friends do, right? I’d even hate it if I upset Corbet in any way.”
I was not a bad person; I’d rather hurt myself than anyone else.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No. Unless, you want to. It’s not like I don’t enjoy your company; I do. So I’ll just get over my hang-ups and we can just go along like we have been. I think I’ll feel better once Sarah knows that we’re friends.”
“You’re one strange girl, Alexandra.”
I sighed and nodded. “I know. It’s just weird, you know, you being here, and that we’ve become friends, and that you’re dating my friend.”
And that we kissed and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, about you. But I had to.
“You say ‘friends’ a lot.” He smiled. I looked over at him and laughed; he laughed with me and it made me feel better, more relaxed. “And Sarah and I aren’t dating; we’ve only been out once.”
“Don’t let Sarah hear you say that; in her eyes, one date is enough to say that the two of you are dating.”
“We’ll see.” He grunted. I couldn’t help but giggle. Yes, he would see and then find out that I was right. “What are you laughing at?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing. So tell me, Tristan, do you really like football?”
I glanced over at him as he shrugged his shoulders and then said, “It’s okay. I’m more of a hockey guy, though. So tell me, Alexandra, what’s up with you and Corbet?
“Like I’ve said before, there’s nothing going on. We are just friends, and in my eyes, that’s all we ever will be. I could never see him any other way. I’ve known him for what seems like forever. Wait, let me guess, Sarah’s said something.” When he grinned and raised his eyebrows at me, I knew I was right. I groaned and shook my head. “Of course she has. She has this weird thought that Corbet likes me, but I highly doubt it. If anything, I think it was the other way around, that he likes her—” I grabbed his arm. “Not that you need to worry about it. He knows where he stands with her…with both of us.” I quickly let go when he looked down at my grip on his hand. “Anyway, quick change in subject, do you want to play the Wii?”
He laughed again at how frustrated I seemed, which I was. What was Sarah doing talking about me to Tristan? I was sure she’d have better things to talk about, and if all else failed, she would just have to stick her tongue down his throat—God, that sounded terrible. I couldn’t believe I even thought it.
“The Wii sounds good, but only for a short while, and then I’m going to have to go.”
“All right.” I got up to change the cables and grab the remotes. While changing the channel over and walking b
ackwards, I tripped over Tristan’s feet, which planted me right into his lap. I scrambled to get up as he tried helping me by placing his hands under my arms, but that only made it worse.
I gasped and said, “Don’t—stop! I’m ticklish there.” And I knew as soon as those words were out of my mouth that I would regret them.
I was halfway up when he started moving his fingers under my arms. I squealed and wriggled, laughter bursting from my mouth. “Please, no, oh, stop!” I begged and giggled like a little girl. He was chuckling at me squirming around, trying to get away from him.
“What’s all the noise?” Dad asked, coming into the lounge.
Tristan froze, moved to sit back down. I quickly got up off the floor and straightened myself out.
“Oh, I see you’ve found her weak spot. Let me tell you, it works wonders when she’s arguing with me. All I have to do is tickle her there and she caves.” Dad smiled at the many memories when he had used those tactics on me.
“Yes, not fair at all,” I uttered with a mock scowl and sat back down on the couch. Tristan seemed to relax from our light words, knowing that my dad wouldn’t have jumped to the wrong conclusions by what he’d seen.
“Hey, you guys playing the Wii? Great, now I can show Tristan here how much of a cool dad I am by beating the two of you.”
“You lost your coolness ages ago, when you decided to wear a Hawaiian shirt and flip flops with socks,” I teased.
Tristan barked with laughter; I quickly joined him. It was Dad’s turn to do an impression of a mock scowl.
The rest of the night played out with Tristan beating both my “apparently” cool father and myself at all the carnival games and all the sport games. It wasn’t until later that night after saying a goodbye to Tristan and I was lying in bed that I realised I really enjoyed myself. Because of the company, and the fact that dad was home for a change. I asked him before heading to my room why he was home; he said he’d decided to take some time off, and he wanted to spend some time with me. That made tears spring to my eyes and I told him that sounded great. It was then he said that Tristan seemed like a nice young man, and he didn’t think things between Sarah and Tristan would work. I asked him why, and he gave me a smirk and said Tristan was too smart for her. I rolled my eyes and continued on my way to my bedroom.
The time with Tristan also made me feel more comfortable about a friendship with him.
With time—I hoped those other deeper feelings I had for him would fade.
It could be possible if things kept going the way they were.
Thursday at lunch, while Corbet was in the computer room, I told Sarah about Tristan coming over. My hands were sweaty and I felt sick to my stomach, but I needn’t have worried. She smiled and thought it was fantastic, and that it was really nice of my dad to ask him over. She also said it was great to hear that Tristan and I were getting along. Apparently, she’d been worried because I didn’t like him, that it would cause problems between Tristan and herself. I managed a fake laugh and said that if I hadn’t killed him last night, then it would be okay between us. And to my shock, she informed me that she wasn’t sure now if things with Tristan were going to work out. He didn’t want to sit with her at school; he didn’t reply to her texts all the time, and she talked more to his friends than she did with him.
I couldn’t believe my own ears and wanted to kick myself when I reassured her that they hadn’t really gotten to know each other, and that she needed to give it time. She smiled and had said, “I can hope.” And that was when I wanted to jump in front of a bus.
The conversation moved onto the upcoming weekend. Sarah wanted to do something different; she was sick of watching movie after movie. I supposed we had just about seen everything interesting at the video store. So I asked her what she had in mind; she then gave me a small, cunning smirk and said, “Leave it up to me.”
At the time, I didn’t think anything of it. I should have known though, by that look on her face, she was up to something. Friday came and went; Tristan couldn’t make it to the library that night or Saturday because he’d had those two days off at the beginning of the, week and now they were swamped with extra work.
So Saturday came, and when Sarah turned up on my doorstep with Corbet, both of them looking like they were going out to a party, I started to panic. Sarah was dressed in tight black pants, a midriff pink top, and a black jacket. Her hair was flowing down around her shoulders, making her look like a runway model. Corbet was dressed in jeans and a white shirt, which looked really nice on him.
Alarm bells rang in my mind; they were way too overdressed for what I had been thinking we could do—like bowling, or mini golf.
What was going through Sarah’s mind?
“Come on, Alex, let’s get you changed and then we can be off.” She stepped through the door and dragged me into my room.
“Whoa, where are we going exactly?” I asked, looking at Corbet because Sarah had disappeared into my walk-in wardrobe.
“Don’t ask me; she won’t tell,” he said. Leaning in, he whispered, “But somehow I don’t think we’re going to like it.”
“Funny, I have that feeling too,” I admitted.
Sarah reappeared with an armful of clothing: dresses, skirts, tops, and jackets. I was sure it was all that I owned. She made me try on everything, until she was finally satisfied with a short floral dress and sandals.
“I will only wear this if I’m wearing leggings under it. Sarah, I haven’t worn it for ages, and look how short it is now.”
“Oh, all right party pooper, but let me tell you. You do have the legs to pull off that look, girl. I would ask Corbet if he didn’t flee like he had.” As soon as Sarah said ‘try this on’, Corbet ran for the door and down to the lounge to watch whatever my dad was.
I slipped on my black leggings under the dress and felt half-decent, and then much to Sarah’s disgust, I grabbed a black jacket out and put it on.
“I’ll freeze, especially if where we’re going is outside.”
“Nice try, trickster. You will just have to wait and see. But you and Corby have to keep an open mind, not run as soon as we step foot in there.”
“That doesn’t sound promising.” If she already thought Corbet and I weren’t going to like it, it was a probability that we wouldn’t. But I knew Sarah, and she had an ulterior motive for taking us wherever it was we were going.
“Oh, stop it. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
I said my goodbye to Dad and asked him to wish me luck, saying that Sarah was the one to choose where we were heading without our knowledge of the destination. Dad being Dad was actually concerned, and I could see pity in his eyes as he wished me luck and warned Sarah to be nice and safe, or else. I gave him a quick hug and kiss, and he reminded me to not to be home too late and to be careful. To tell you the truth, I really would have preferred to stay home with Dad and watch some old funny movies. I even said that to him. But he said he was going to have an early night anyway because he wasn’t feeling the best, and could be coming down with a cold.
*
As we pulled up out the front of Joe’s, regret filled me. I shouldn’t have agreed to this; I should be in my safe, warm house. I couldn’t believe Sarah; this was asking way too much of me. It was safe to say that Corbet would have agreed with me by the pale, shocked look on his face as he got out of the car.
“No way. I am not going in there. Sarah, you know who hangs in there and how much shit they give not only one of your best friends, but the two of us.”
“I know, but I made them promise to be on their best behaviour and they said they would be. They said that they’d love to get to know you guys like they have me.”
Yes, I am sure that’s what they want.
“Does Tristan know you’re coming here, and with us?”
“No. I wanted to surprise him, but I told his friend Aaron about my idea of coming here to surprise him and that I wanted to bring you guys with me, and he thought it was a great idea.�
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It wasn’t a great idea. Aaron was setting Sarah up, and I knew Tristan would also think it was a terrible idea. Yes, he wasn’t going to like it one bit.
“Now, come on. Put on those brave faces for me and do this. Please, for me, and I promise I will never ask you guys to ever do anything you don’t like again.”
Corbet sighed and his shoulders dropped, but he nodded in agreement. Sarah then turned her pleading eyes to me.
“Stuff it, Sarah.” I groaned. “This one time only, but if Corbet and I absolutely hate this place, we are leaving with or without you.”
She cackled because she knew that we wouldn’t leave without her, especially in a place like this.
Sarah squealed, grabbed our hands, and pulled us down the stairs into Joe’s Pool Hall.
The door opened; the music hit us, and the smell of testosterone, sweat, smoke, and a tang of something else I couldn’t put my finger on—and wasn’t sure I really wanted to—filled our noses. Sarah dragged us over to the bar. This place did sell alcohol, but to get it, you had to have an ID on you.
I grabbed Sarah’s hand tighter. She was glancing around to see if she could find Tristan and his friends, while Corbet and I looked for the closest escape.
Joe’s was huge for an underground place; there was at least twenty pool tables in the middle of the room, with low hanging lights over every table. Along all the other walls, besides the bar end, seated booths for those who only came here to watch and drink.
“There he is, and what the hell is that girl doing draped all over him?”
I looked over to the right corner, a few booths back from the bar, and found Tristan standing and leaning against the wall. His friends sat in the booth with some girls, but there was one girl with long brown hair, curled around Tristan. At least, he didn’t look that interested in her, so I told that to Sarah while my eyes stayed glued to Tristan, and my heart did a double beat. He looked really good, leaning there in dark blue jeans and a tight black t-shirt.
“Yeah, well, he better not be. I’m going over; you guys coming?” She took a step forward, and then turned back to Corbet and me. However, we were quite comfortable where we were, having the bar helped us stand and not flee like I knew we wanted to.