by Jenn Cooksey
That brings me to the second thing I knew; I wasn’t about to tell either Camie or Jeff they were mistaken. That would mean having to tell one or both of them the truth and I just can’t. I can’t tell them and I can’t tell anyone else. I can live (meaning barely get by) with them thinking I’m just an asshole who threw the best thing in my life away over sex—or more specifically, the lack of it—but now, having either of them know the rest and having to see my admittedly deserved condemnation and repulsion in their faces everyday would effectively nail my coffin closed.
And one other thing I was absolutely certain of…I didn’t have a fuckin’ clue as to how I was gonna face either of them.
I had no strategy. I had Pete and I had Jillian, but I didn’t have a plan. That’s why I dicked around before turning in my expertly forged readmittance note that Jillian gave me until just after first period and just before second so I wouldn’t run into Jeff, and when I saw Camie walking across campus on her way to second period and felt my heart twist and splinter, I found myself asking Mrs. Henderson if I could take today and tomorrow in the library to “catch up.” There wasn’t anything I could do about Team Sports with Jeff seventh period, aside from ditching that is, but when Coach Roy stopped me on my way into the locker room and asked for my help with the first-aid class he was teaching, I counted it as a blessing from God, whom, I will admit, I’m still a little pissed off at.
Five
Friday, Week One
Fateful fraternizing ~ Jeff
“Well, I do declare, it’s been a day and a half and Tristan’s still in one piece…nice way to support Camie,” Melissa accused in a sickly sweet tone.
I watched as she passed me in the hall on our way to English on Friday and clenched my teeth. Melissa can be a real bitch when she wants to be. But then again, what girl can’t be, am I right?
“Katy would kick my ass if I got in a fight with him or anyone else at school…besides, I thought you were neutral,” I said, trying to emphasize my utter disgust about her position with the word. I’m even more pissed at Pete. I honestly expected him to pussy-out and be neutral too, but he actually fuckin’ chose Tristan. He makes me sick. I haven’t even been able to look at him let alone confront him.
“I am neutral, you jackhole…learn what sarcasm sounds like,” she shot at me over her shoulder and disappeared into class.
I followed her and held my breath. Tristan graced us with his presence in US History this morning, and even though he sat on the opposite side of the room next to Conner, I had a hard time ignoring him so I was relieved he didn’t have the guts to show up in this class again. It would be ugly and I wasn’t lying when I told Melissa that Katy would kill me if I got in a fight at school. My record can’t take too many more hits and she doesn’t want me jeopardizing our future. I guess I can see her point. Getting suspended again or expelled wouldn’t exactly look all that fantastic on a college or business loan application.
When Katy and I discovered we were gonna be parents a year before either of us graduated, she and I came up with a plan. We would both take night-school classes and finish up any credits we needed over the summer so we could graduate early and then we’d just skip our senior year. Then, the plan was that I would be Mr. Mom during the day while she went to college and I would go to culinary school at night. The goal was to have our cake and eat it too. The basic plan is still the same; we’ll still do the college and culinary school part and I’ll eventually open my own restaurant, but we aren’t gonna be doing the night or summer school stuff. Without Peanut, there’s really no reason to. Even though it would be fuckin’ harder than shit and more stressful than even I can imagine, I’d still do it in a heartbeat if it meant getting to hold the life we’d created together.
The nanosecond Katy told me she was pregnant, I was a goner. I was elated and filled with a joy I don’t think can even be described and I wanted that baby more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life. She was scared in the beginning and I lobbied hard for my family, and although she eventually got over the fear, I still think I wanted it more than she did. But in the end, we were both equally in love with our baby. We were so excited. We even knew exactly what we wanted the birth announcement thing to say... Flesh of our flesh, joy of our joy, life of our love.
It was stupid. Stupid to give your whole heart to something so soon, especially when you know what a fucking evil bitch fate is.
*****
I’d been in my head the whole class and as we were heading out the door to lunch, I snapped out of it just in time to catch the tail end of Camie’s question. “…invite Tristan?”
Goddamnit, I hate when I zone out and miss shit.
“Um, not yet but I was going to at lunch…Camie, please, I’m begging you, don’t make me choose between you two,” Melissa pleaded and shot me a heated look that told me she’d claw my eyes out if I said one word of I told you so. I settled for an arrogant look that asked her how being neutral was working out for her.
“Melissa, I’m not…really. I don’t mind at all that you’re still friends,” Camie began as Melissa told me to go fuck myself with her eyes. “It’s just that seeing him at school is one thing, but I’m not really ready to put myself in a situation where I might have to see him with someone else or actually talk to him, you know? At some point I hope he and I can be friends…I mean, that’s kinda why I asked you all to not tell people what happened, but, some point isn’t this weekend,” Camie said, giving me some clue as to what they’re talking about.
This weekend…this wee—what’s happening this weekend?
“Okay, I get that, but if you promise you’re gonna go, I won’t tell him about the frat party.”
Frat party?! Hell yeah!
“Well, I can’t promise anything without first consulting with my chauffeur,” Camie told Melissa and then turned to face Katy. “So, Jeeves, what do you say about going to watch Brandon’s band play at some frat house Saturday night?”
Katy then turned to me, looking for her answer.
“Nah. Sounds lame.” How’s that for sarcasm? Yeah, I’m a quick study.
Katy rolled her eyes and giggled at me. “Okay, but if I’m playing designated driver for that, you’re driving tonight and staying all kinds of sober.”
“Aw shit. I forgot about Wayne’s birthday thing tonight…hey! Let’s make Camie drive.” I know, mean joke, but whatever. That’s just me and Camie knows it.
“That’s a fabulous idea! I can hear it now…um no, officer, I’m not stoned and I haven’t had anything to drink tonight and sorry, I can’t let you see my license…why? Oh, well, because I don’t have a goddamned license, you jabbering simpleton!” Hi-larious. I was laughing before, but I started cracking up when Camie hit me upside the head and Katy, and yeah, even Melissa, started laughing at Camie’s quintessential huffy expression.
Ahhh, good times…
Good times. Not. ~ Tristan
I hate being so fucking conflicted. For one thing, I’m getting really fuckin’ sick of hiding with my tail between my legs like a dog that’s been beaten its whole life. But, I’m not ready to see Camie.
Oh, who the fuck am I kidding; it doesn’t matter if I’m ready. I want to see her. Jeff on the other hand… Well, Jeff I can handle. I think.
Fuck.
“No, man, I’m not goin’…sorry,” I told Wayne at lunch on Friday.
He’s having a big blowout for his birthday and while I’d like to go and have a good time, I just don’t think a good time is what would be had. Plus, I’m still screwed up in the head about what to do about Camie and until I figure that shit out, I think I should just keep to myself.
“Aw come on, dude, it’s gonna be a fuckin’ E-vent! Everyone’s gonna be there,” he said in a way that was meant to compel me into making a favorable decision and because I’m so goddamned tempted to see Camie outside of school, it almost worked. “And oh! Guess who moved back to town a couple weeks ago? Mia!”
That was the cl
incher.
“Yeah, I can’t make it, man, have a blast though.”
Just the mention of Wayne’s sister and I was out. Besides, I fuckin’ hate being browbeaten.
Time to start thinking about suiting up ~ Pete
“You sure you don’t wanna go tonight? I’ll drive,” I offered when Tristan dropped me off after practice. He needs to get out. He still looks like he was run over by a tractor, but I really doubt that ashen and cadaverous-like look he’s got is gonna go away until he rejoins the living.
“Yeah, man, I am one-hundred-fucking-percent sure,” he told me with laughably grim determination.
“Why so adamant?” I know he’s uneasy about having a run-in with either Camie or Jeff, but we talked a little while we were playing ball after school and I got the impression he was done hiding.
“In a word…Mia.”
I clamped my mouth shut on the laugh I almost barked out when he said her name. I don’t know nearly as much about the show as Camie, Jillian or him, and I know less about Mia, but I swear to God he may as well have been referring to what the characters in Buffy called The First. It was short for the first evil.
“Good call. I’m thinking being in the same house at the same time with your maker and your ex-girlfriend probably wouldn’t help your predicament much.”
“Ya think?” He asked with a sarcastic chuckle as I got out of the car and then before I closed the door, he called me back. “Oh and Pete?”
“Yeah?”
“She’s not my EX-anything, got it?”
Aw shit.
This is the Tristan we all know and love, but if he’s thinking they’re still together and she doesn’t? Well, that just means we’re all in for a bumpy ride until one of them concedes the point, which you know isn’t just gonna happen without a decent amount of blood, sweat and tears.
I wonder if Jillian would let me start carrying around her broadsword. Probably not, huh? Maybe she knows where I can get a suit of armor though…
6.
Saturday, Week One
Adding a new element to our love ~ Pete
“Seriously, you guys, I’m not up for it,” Tristan told the guys and me when we showed up on his doorstep Saturday night.
“We’re prepared to use force,” I told him. We are. We’re all more than aware that if he puts up a fight, it’ll take all four of us to get him out the door and into the car.
“Good for you. I don’t wanna go to Lance’s fuckin’ party.”
“Too fuckin’ bad, we’re takin’ you with us…you can be our getaway driver,” Mike said and then before Tristan could slam the door in our faces and lock it, all four of us grabbed him and the fight was on.
He stopped struggling and started laughing his ass off though when this guy, Justin, let loose with something akin to a girly scream after Tristan’s elbow barely made contact with his cheek.
“Was that supposed to be some kind of manly battle cry?” Mike asked as we shoved Tristan in the back of Justin’s car.
“It sounded like a yelp of unmanly fear to me, because really, that was a glancing blow, nothing more. Certainly nothing that warranted squealing like a five-year-old girl,” Tristan said, still laughing.
“Fuck off, dude, I’ve got senior pictures this week and you know I bruise like a peach…my mom would fuckin’ kill me if I came home with a shiner.”
“You guys suck. This is abduction, you know that, right?” He protested as Conner and I climbed in on either side of him. You know, so he can’t do a tuck and roll escape out the car door.
“Yeah, well, quit your bitching, you know you love me,” I said with a grin.
“Yeah, it’s true, I do. But I gotta say, I’m not all that happy with being kidnapped.”
“Think of it this way, Stockholm Syndrome just adds an exciting new element to our love,” I said and fluttered my eyelashes at him. I know if we hadn’t forced his hand, Tristan would’ve spent the whole weekend wallowing in self-pity, but he needs to be around people and have some fun or his depression will consume him. Fast and, completely.
“You sick puppies are creepin’ me out with that shit,” Justin said.
“Dude, I concur…” Conner said from the other side of Tristan, who’d started laughing at the kissy faces I was making at him.
“Which fuckin’ part?” Mike asked with a laugh from the passenger’s seat.
“I’d do both of ‘em but the loving your kidnapper part…that’s just fuckin’ wrong,” Justin answered, watching us in the rearview mirror.
“Eyes on the road, dickwidget,” Tristan told him through laughing tears.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d reserve those terms of endearment for me alone,” I said to him, pretending to be jealous.
“Sorry, how’s this? You’re a bigger dickwidget.”
“It’s a start… So, you ready to have some fun now?”
“Not really, but I’ll give it my best effort.”
And what a Herculean effort it ended up being…
Enter, Evil Scott ~ Jeff
Standing in a living room in the house belonging to the drummer in Brandon’s band and surrounded by Valhalla Norsemen, I got a text that gave me a small laugh and cheered me up if only a little.
Justin: went 2 lance’s…whr r u?
“Ha! Katy, what’s the address to this shitty party?” I asked her after reading Justin’s text.
“Why?”
“Because Justin went to Lance’s.” Too fuckin’ funny. I swear to God, Lance’s parties always get broken up by the cops, that’s why Tristan and I had a rule about only going to his parties as a last resort.
“Umm, here…” she said, handing me her phone so I could copy the address from the text Melissa had sent us with the address and directions on it.
“Okay, Melissa doesn’t know what they did because apparently the guy who booked them and then called to cancel is being real hush-hush about it,” Camie said, coming up to Katy and me. I took the beer she went to hand Katy and drained more than half of it. “Uh, that wasn’t supposed to be yours, but you’re welcome, you crybaby.”
“At least we still get to hear the band,” Katy said, trying to console me in my time of sorrow.
“So it’s what? Fuckin’ double secret probation?” I’m not kidding, the frat house the band was supposed to play at got put on probation…I honestly thought that shit only happened in movies like Animal House. Now I’m stuck at this regular high school party as some kind of lame consolation. “I can’t believe I stayed sober last night for this.”
“You weren’t sober!” Katy and Camie yelled at me at the same time and then started laughing.
“You can’t count getting high!”
“Um, I’m pretty sure I can!” Camie snapped at me again for the stoned offense I made last night.
“Hey, I said I’m sorry…I didn’t know she was gonna be there!”
“Yeah, well I would’ve handled it a hell of a lot better if you hadn’t introduced her as Tristan’s first fuck!”
I couldn’t help it, I started cracking up. Katy looked at me and I saw her lip twitch and then she and Camie both started laughing again. That moment last night when I very formally bowed between them and introduced Camie to Mia, the chick Tristan lost his virginity to and then some, was fuckin’ HI-larious! It didn’t help Camie much when Mia, who I swear looks like sex on a stick, beamed with pride, did a very ladylike curtsy of her own and said something like, “Taught him everything I know and learned a thing or two in return.”
“Oh God, that was so funny…do you think it was so funny because we were all high?” Katy asked.
“Well at that particular time, I was still completely sober, Jeff,” Camie said, insinuating it was my fault she got pissed off and then decided to take a massively huge hit off the bong that was handed to her after my polite butler-esque introduction and that I did it on purpose, which come on, it totally was and I totally did. Shit, I’m even the one who handed her the bong, but it was compl
etely worth getting smacked around by her for a few minutes to see her get high for the first time ever.
The whole night was comedy. Katy thought I was staying sober—yeah, I don’t know what she was thinking either—I thought she was, and then Camie revealed to us that she was baked beyond belief by eating an entire pizza by herself and stabbing Wayne’s hand with a fork when he tried to take a slice.
So the three of us were standing there, all reminiscing and laughing about how at the end of the night, we discovered that none of us was sober and how with her superior way, Jillian snatched the keys from my hands and drove us all back to my house with Melissa following behind to take Jillian home, when this dude, who’s obviously hot for Camie, came up and joined us.
“I thought I’d circumvent us running into each other like we always do…how ya been?”
I automatically and systematically sized him up. My conclusion was that he’s good looking enough to make a chick look twice but not enough for her boyfriend to worry about, he’s relatively built so maybe decent in a fight, but he’d go down quick in any serious brawl. He’s what I call angel cake. Pretty on the outside but nothing of substance on the inside.
“Oh, umm…I’m sorry, I feel like an idiot but I can’t remember what your name is,” Camie apologized and shifted on her feet. It’s one of her tells. She’s uncomfortable but I’m not sure if it’s because she’s trying to come up with a non-profane way of telling this guy to fuck off for having the balls to hit on her with such a cheesy line, or if it’s simply due to the fact that not remembering his name and admitting it was embarrassing.