by Jenn Cooksey
“Uh-uh, I don’t. Not even a little…I can just feel it, there’s something off with him, but I have to show Camie I trust and respect her so that’s why I’m backing off tonight and why you guys can’t let me down.”
“You know, Brandon goes to school with him…and uh, that night we got in that fight, he said the guy was bad news…did you ever think about asking him if he’d heard anything the guy might’ve said about Camie?” I hated to admit that I’ve known Brandon’s opinion this whole time, but if it’ll help Trist get some perspective or get a little more information to go on, then he should have it.
“Yeah, actually, I did…I tried texting and calling, but Brandon’s keeping his phone off for his own reasons, so I went down to Valhalla earlier to catch him at school. He wasn’t there, but I ran into Samantha and her boyfriend… Get this, well first, you’re not gonna believe this shit, but Josh, her boyfriend, actually thanked me for fucking his girlfriend and giving her back to him,” he told me, shaking his head in a kind of bewildered disbelief that I found myself doing as well, because wow… I mean I can’t imagine what that was like for either of them, you know? Talk about awkward. “I know, but listen to this, you remember when we went bowling and that whole thing with the text and Kate burying my hooker?”
“Yeah,” I answered and started laughing a little. Oh God, that was priceless…
“Well, Samantha never sent that fucking text. She and Josh never even broke up, they’ve been together ever since I talked her into calling him.”
“What the fuck? Who sent it then?”
“Well, she’d left her phone on the counter so it would’ve been easy for anyone to pick it up and do, but we’re thinking it was Evil Scott. You know, I mean who else would’ve done something like that to her? Samantha told me that when she saw me at the bowling alley, she pointed me out to Sarah and they were talking about what I did and that whole night…she thinks Evil overheard her and to either be a dick or to play a sick joke, he sent it…you know, just to stir the pot and see what happened. But that was also the night he waited for Camie to come out of the bathroom and then purposely ran into her, so I think there’s more to it, but, even if there isn’t and the guy is just a sick fucker bent on making Samantha’s life hell, I don’t trust him as far as one of my cats can throw him.”
Yeah, I really don’t blame him. And knowing that, I have no problem making a promise to keep Camie in eyesight at all times tonight and because I can’t—well, I can, but that might not go over well—I even promised him that Katy would go with her to the bathroom.
I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to my best friend’s baby on my watch, especially while he’s gearing up to do battle with his ghosts and demons…
Formalities ~ Pete
I know the rules.
I must follow the rules. Follow the rules or pay the price.
I’m getting sick of the goddamned rules, but, I don’t wanna pay the price of breaking them. And, I’ll admit, following them is gonna be really damned difficult to do tonight. She looks incredible. Even though her hair isn’t spilling down her back the way I like it best, she’s still irresistible and my palms have been itching ever since I first set eyes on her tonight.
Not really paying attention to the random gabbing goin’ on next to me, I just stood there and watched her as she and Melissa checked into their hotel rooms and when they were finished, my eyes followed them, or rather, her into the ladies’ room. Over the din of voices belonging to my fellow classmates milling around the lobby, in the ballroom just a little ways down the hall from where we were standing, the dance DJ could just barely be heard. He made some kind of indistinguishable announcement that no one cared about, but then girls started towing their dates down the hall towards the ballroom when Kool & The Gang started chanting “Celebrate good times, come on!” I was still staring at the closed door of the ladies’ room when a loud, yet familiarly jovial voice snapped me out of my reverie.
“Dude!” Jeff hollered, just arriving with Kate, Camie and the schmuck, and sounding happy as all get out, “What are you doin’ here?! You crashin?”
“Hell no! I’m here with Sexy...your quarterback is fuckin’ pissed! It’s fuckin’ awesome!” Brandon enthused and bumped fists with Jeff in greeting.
“Sweet! You guys back together then?”
“Yep, sure are!”
“Right on, but hey, just so I’m on the same page, when’d that happen?”
“Yester—er, this morning?” Brandon asked in answer and looked at me.
“Yeah, anytime past midnight means it’s the nex—” I started to answer and chuckled when Brandon interrupted me. He’s kinda high tonight. From what I gather, he’s had about as much sleep as Tristan this last week except where Tristan gets short tempered, it appears Brandon gets hyper. And, a little chatty. It’s actually kinda funny. I’m also guessing the three five-hour energy drinks he downed in the limo have kicked in…
He’d interrupted me to tell Jeff how it happened and was in the middle of laughing and saying, “Yeah…check out my fuckin’ hands,” while turning his hands over and back so Jeff could see all the scrapes and scratches he’d received climbing a rose covered trellis on the side of Melissa’s house. Twice. “Yeah, and if you think that’s bad, you should see the ones on my arms…the goddamned things even tore my fuckin’ shirt! I was a bloody mess!”
“Hey wait, Pete, if Brandon’s here with Melissa, who are you here with?” Jeff asked me and looked around for my date.
I sighed. “Jillian.”
“Elvira?! Dude! How the fuck did you draw the short stick? I thought she was comin’ with her cousin or something…”
“Yeah, well…apparently he started his day off puking so one guy’s stomach flu is my cross to bear I guess,” I replied, following the fucking rules and trying to sound as put out as possible when all I really wanted to do was grin like the canary eating cat that I am.
The girls were still in the goddamned bathroom, and I had a feeling they were gonna be a while because Kate along with Camie, whom I’d noticed had a particularly irritated expression on her face, had joined them right when the four of them arrived. But then when the schmuck, who’d also gone in the bathroom upon arrival, came out and Brandon saw him, Brandon’s eyes flashed and he suddenly went from being cheerfully animated to being, well…not.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Brandon asked, staring hard at Scott who’d suddenly stopped walking in our direction when he recognized Brandon standing amongst us and chose to walk over to Derek and MaryAnn instead.
Jeff looked at the bathroom and then said, “C’mon, I need to check Katy and me in…oh hey, Jillian, Camie and Melissa were gonna stay in the same room…what happened with that in the date swap?” He asked as we followed him over to the front desk, both Brandon and I noticing that he kept looking at the bathroom every few seconds.
“Sexy got us our own room, Jillian and Camie are still gonna share, now spill, what’s that fuckstick doin’ here?” Brandon asked, keeping an eye on the fu—I mean Scott.
“Jesus, dude, I totally didn’t get it when you said he’s bad news, but fuck…” Jeff said and proceeded to enlighten Brandon and me on everything he’d recently found out about the guy who Tristan has begun referring to simply as Evil and how he’d already gotten on everyone’s nerves in the twenty-minute limo ride here, “I mean you’d think the guy would have the smarts to notice all that trash talking about her ex was pissing her off for one thing but, Jesus Christ, you stupid fuck, I’m her ex’s best friend and I’m right here! You know? I mean who the fuck does that?”
Brandon was shaking his head, keeping an eye on Evil, and said, “I’m tellin’ ya, I’m with Tristan…don’t trust him. Not a bit. I get all that shit about him not bein’ able to pull anything with everyone here, but…uh-uh…nope.”
“Well, that’s why we’re supposed to keep an eye on Camie,” Jeff informed us and when the girls finally emerged from the bathroom, I saw his eyes flas
h not to Kate, but directly to Camie and he sighed in what sounded almost like relief.
“Mm-mm…watch him. I’m tellin’ you guys, he’s the one we need to keep an eye on, not her,” Brandon said, still shaking his head.
“Well, I—uh…I’m sorta babysitting. I promised him I wouldn’t let Camie out of my sight, so, how ‘bout you guys take turns watching him and I’ll keep my eyes on her…that way we cover all the bases and it won’t look too weird either, you know?”
So we agreed. Actually, it was more like a pact. Being in tuxedos and rather formally, the three of us vowed that we would let nothing happen to Camie, or, any other girl here, and informally we enlisted a larger crew by quietly apprising the present members of the swim team and water polo team as well as my ball team of the situation. We decided to leave Derek out of loop for a reason. He’s not exactly friends with Evil, but he doesn’t have the same unease about him that Brandon does, however, if he had any of the knowledge that we all do now, without question and without cause, his scales will tip to the complete opposite side and he wouldn’t hesitate in just packing Camie up and/or beating the shit out of Evil. And although the three of us would enjoy seeing this guy get his just due, unless we’re given a reason, tonight’s not the night for it. Our aim is to just make sure he doesn’t screw with any of our girls and see that Camie gets to enjoy her first formal dance as much as she’s able to.
Turns out, that wouldn’t be so much…
The name’s Bond. James Bond ~ Brandon
So, I’m gonna let you in on a secret…I love dances and parties that you have to get dressed up for. And I don’t just mean getting dressed up in formalwear either. I really dig any kind of costume party or theme thing. I’m not entirely sure why, but I’d be willing to bet it goes back to wanting to escape my reality like when I was a kid. Jaden had me play music as my first escape, but then at some point during an adolescent October, I realized that when you get dressed up for Halloween, you get to actually be someone else. For a little while at least and that’s all I really wanna do because, honestly, I like who I am and I even like my life now, but I still think it’s fun to pretend every now and then. It’s like role playing.
So tonight, I’m pretending to be James Bond and Sexy is one of my Bond girls. Of course, she doesn’t actually know I’m playing secret agent, but still, I’m gettin’ off on the whole idea. And unbeknownst to her as well, I’m even making Jillian play a part tonight. Because of what I went through last night, I’m gonna think of her as my higher-up. Like my boss. I kinda wish my bow tie had a camera in it though. Or at the very least, I could have a dart-shooting watch. At this point, I’d take a plain old gun. Real or water… Humph. I bet Jillian’s armed…
Although if I were armed, that’d give me a completely unfair advantage against the joystick. Sexy’s ex I mean, not Scott the fuckstick.
Huh. Maybe I should look into using names that don’t both end in stick. You know, for clarity’s sake.
Nah.
So where was I?
Oh yeah, the joystick. He’s itchin’ to say something about me bein’ here with Melissa. I can see it in his face and he gets closer to making the mistake of scratching that itch every time he takes a swig out of that flask he’s got. Shit! Did Bond carry a flask? I can’t remember, but, whatever.
Now, aside from not planning ahead in order to carry out my 007 role down to the last detail, I’m not a dolt…I know I’m on the joystick’s turf, surrounded by his friends, and I’m with one of their girls, but, she chose me and that makes a difference in the balance of things. And as much as I would love to hand him his ass and go back to sippin’ pretend champagne, I won’t start shit. And sure, I might get my ass handed to me by his friends afterwards, but if he starts anything, he goes down first thing. No hesitation, no question.
I gave my attention back to dancing with Sexy and my job and checked the fuckstick situation. So far so good, but, I still think he’s up to something. He’s just shifty. Plus, he keeps looking around like he’s nervous or impatient about something. And that, to me, reads as guilty behavior. Also, he’s being a dick. He won’t even dance with Camie. Not that we want him touching her or anything, but come on, you’re at a dance. You dance at a dance. That’s pretty much the point. Well, that and drinking bad punch while you waste time waiting for the after-party to start upstairs in the hotel rooms. Ahh…now that could be his plan.
We didn’t even consider the after-party.
The song ended, everyone clapped, and then Melissa towed me over to get bad punch, which I partook of with style and sophistication, as it’s part of my disguise. I think I made the kid standing opposite us at the table choke on his drink though when I asked for my punch to be shaken, not stirred. Kate and Camie came over and started to talk to Melissa so it was easy to make it look like Jeff and I were just casually talking instead of discussing secret MI6 business when he walked up and stood next to me.
“Where’s Blofeld staying tonight?” I asked him and sipped at my “martini.”
“Who?” Jeff asked and looked at me in confusion.
“Blofeld…you know, the big-bad in tons of Bond flicks? Finally buys it in For Your Eyes Only?” He was just shaking his head at me, totally lost, making it difficult for me to keep my Bond cool. But, I am Bond, so, difficult or not, I kept cool. “Sad, dude, really sad, but, never mind…the fuckstick, where’s he stayin’ tonight? Do you know?”
“Oh, yeah…I guess he’s goin’ home. His buddy followed him down here earlier so he could leave his car and have a ride a home, but he didn’t say whether he got a room or was planning on staying for the par—ty,” Jeff looked at me and raised one of his eyebrows, finally on the same page as me and then he looked over at Blofeld and asked, “Hey, dude, are you gonna stay and hang out for the party tonight?”
Scott Fuckstick Blofeld looked at Camie and then moving closer to us to answer in a low voice he said, “Uh, probably not…there’s a chick I’m plannin’ on hookin’ up with later.”
“Oh…huh. When you plannin’ on takin’ off?” Jeff asked. It was a logical question and although I don’t think he heard it, Jeff was torn between wanting the fuckstick to take off as soon as five minutes ago and wanting him to tough it out for Camie’s sake. I can see that I guess, even though she looks like she might be happier if her date just bailed.
“Um, not sure really…when do you think people will get tired of this shitty dance and head upstairs?”
“Depends. It’s kinda up to the girls, you know? The guys will hang down here until the girls get bored and decide to go up and start partyin’,” Jeff answered and winked at Kate, who was giving him a head nod indicating that she, Melissa, Camie, and some other girls I don’t really know were all gonna head out to the dance floor again.
“Well, I guess I’ll hang out until Camie decides she’s done…hopefully that’ll be soon though. She’s nice and hot as fuck, but, I’m not into this whole dance scene. Plus she’s still hung up on her fuckin’ ex…I’m tellin’ ya, that guy has serious anger issues. He needs therapy, or, better yet, he needs a wakeup call via someone kicking his fucking ass,” the guy had the nerve to say in front of both Tristan’s best friend and me. You see? Fuckstick fits. But then he looked over my shoulder and it was a little hard to tell how he felt about what he said next, “Hey Brandon, there’s a guy behind you who looks like he wants to dropkick your head.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m waitin’ for him to find his backbone.”
“Melissa’s gonna flip if you start a fight with her ex tonight, dude,” Jeff warned.
“Which is why I’m just waiting.”
Jeff casually turned around to take a look and then said, “Uh-huh, well, I don’t think you’re gonna have to wait much longer…”
Excellent.
Oh but damn, I still don’t have a camera in my bow tie and I’d kinda like to get this on film for “M,” Bond’s—er, my boss. And uh, it might be time to go back to being me because I think I’m star
tin’ to mix work with pleasure…the joystick is personal, the fuckstick is the assignment, right? Oh what the hell, if it happens, I still wanna video the fight just for fun. Stupid camera-less bow tie…how can I get this on fil—M! My boss, M! Jillian! She videos everything! I won’t even have to ask, she’ll just be doin’ it out of habit! Sweet! And see, there’s a reason why she’s the boss.
I took a drink of some pretty nasty punch and turned, making sure I made eye contact with the joystick as I did. It wasn’t so much eggin’ him on or suggesting we get into it, it was simply me lettin’ him know that I don’t mind waiting but I’m ready whenever he is.
Nope, I don’t mind waiting at all. As long as he’s the one to start it and Jillian gets it on video, I’m cool as Bond. Well, I’ll be cool as long as I remember to take my jacket and dress shirt off when it’s time. In my world, blood doesn’t look cool on a tux, regardless of who it belongs to. However, it looks just fine on an undershirt. Don’t ask me why that is. I don’t make the rules and even if I did, I’d probably still break ‘em.
You know, because that’s who I really am and, I’m totally cool with that.
Felonies and misdemeanors ~ Pete
I was dancing, or, trying to anyway; keeping an eye on Evil was kinda getting in the way of my groove, but when I saw Brandon and Derek return from the men’s room and walk back into the ballroom together, I made eye contact with Brandon and motioned with my head to where Scott was. He gave me a nod and then I looked across from me to make eye contact with Jillian, who was dancing in our semi-large group. Again I used my head, subtly motioning my proposal to sneak away for a little bit, and when she gave me a smile and a small nod, I left the dance floor just before the song ended and headed towards one of the less obvious doors leading out to the courtyard that runs along one side of the ballroom.
Roughly five minutes later, I was leaning against a wall in the shadows outside when Jillian found me. She’d used a door from the hallway of the hotel rather than one in the ballroom, making me both chuckle at her attention to detail in making sure no one gets a clue and also, making me shake my head in irritation that she still wants things like this. I’m not about to get into it with her tonight though. I knew tonight wouldn’t be ideal, but, I still really wanted to come with her. So when she walked up to me, still radiant from dancing, I shoved my irritation down deep and not quite hand-in-hand, you know, just in case, we found a dark, secluded alcove lined on three and a quarter sides by a four-foot cement planter box with a solid curtain of shrubs topping it.