Shark Out of Water (Grab Your Pole, #3)

by Jenn Cooksey

  I looked at the letter still in my hand and although that hand was shaking, I made my decision and then dug out a pen from the glove box and added a little bit more to the letter. When I was done, I grabbed my baby book, got out of the bus and as I walked through the parking lot, I sent Jeff my reply.

  Me: I’m on my way.

  Yeah, I know. It’s not a lie though. I mean, technically, walking through the parking lot does count as being on my way.

  When I walked into the lobby and started to follow the signs telling guests where the dance is, I came to an indecisive halt. I mean, what am I gonna do? Just walk in wearing jeans and flip-flops, not to mention I don’t even have a ticket, find Camie, pull her off the dance floor and then shove my baby book and a letter in her face? I’m kinda thinking that plan needs a little work. So I was sort of pacing by the elevator corridor just down the hall from the ballroom, trying to not obsess and absentmindedly nodding and saying hi to people I know who were on their way up to their rooms for after-party drinking and fun. Then Keith came in from outside through a door across from me looking trashed, sick, and beaten like he’d been playing chicken with a Mack truck head-on and lost. Basically, he looked like roadkill.

  “Hey dude, you here for the after-party?” He asked and sort of wobbled on his feet.

  “Nu-uh, what the fuck happened to you?”

  “Aw dude, wish you were here to have my back fifteen minutes ago…I just had the shit kicked outta me by that fuckin’ pierced and tattooed dirtbag of Melissa’s…” I just looked at him and raised one of my eyebrows. First of all, Brandon is nowhere near close to being a dirtbag; he just likes tattoos, which, obviously, I can’t say shit about. And so he likes putting holes in his body too, big deal. Tattoos and piercings a dirtbag does not one make. Secondly, he’s a close friend of mine which I’ll have to forgive because Keith doesn’t really know that. “Aw fuck, Tristan, I’m sorry…I forgot you have one too, but, he’s fuckin’ covered in ‘em, you know? What’s gonna happen if she gets knocked up?”

  “How do you go from having tattoos to getting a chick pregnant?” I mean I know I have a bad habit of topic hopping, but I couldn’t follow his thinking on that at all.

  “Think about it, dude, how’s he gonna support her and a kid? It’s just that he’s got no future…she’d probably wind up havin’ to pay for her own fuckin’ abortion! And I just don’t get how she could pick him over me in the first place, you know?”

  Jesus, Keith’s gone off the deep end here…

  “Look, man, I’m gonna be straight with you, Brandon’s a really fucking good friend of mine and just because he might look a little unsavory it doesn’t mean shit about the kind of person he is, and not that it’s any of your business, but, he does just fine financially. Besides, the tattoos and piercings will probably only help his career. And I don’t get why you’re so concerned about who Melissa goes out with anyway…you don’t actually care about her.”

  “Nah, I do…it’s just him. But hey, what do you mean, how will bein’ scummy help his career? What kinda career can a guy like that have?” Keith asked and put a hand against the wall to steady himself.

  “Keith, Brandon’s a singer, songwriter, and the lead guitarist in a rock band. You did know that, right?”

  “N—no, I don’t think I did…huh. I guess that explains why she said he has more talent in his little toe than anyone she knows…”

  “Yeah, he really does, and The Band is fuckin’ awesome. They just signed with an agent and got invited to record an album in L.A. this summer after Brandon and two of the other guys graduate.”

  “No shit…huh. Well, I just got my ass handed to me by an almost famous person then,” Keith said and started shaking his head in self-deprecation, which reminded me he hadn’t told me how his ass kicking happened or why.

  “Who started it? Him or you?”

  He tenderly worked his raw and swollen jaw and nodded when he said, “Me. When she showed up with him tonight I flipped and by the time I got loaded, I couldn’t take it anymore. Even if I was sober though, I bet he still would’ve knocked me flat. And I fuckin’ deserved it too. I’m surprised he wasn’t the only one who beat me up…dude, I called her a whore. I mean I actually called Melissa a whore…I can’t believe I did that…I feel like such a douche…”

  I was back to just looking at him with a dubiously raised eyebrow. “Tequila?”

  “Seriously, I can’t be allowed to drink that shit anymore…Jose Cuervo and I just do not get along,” he said, shaking his head again as I did the same. Then he turned a nice shade of green and said, “Speakin’ of, I gotta try to make it up to my room so I can puke again and check the damage. I’m in 1018 though if you wanna party with everyone…I’m probably not down for anymore drinking but there’s tons of beer and other shit up there if you want it.”

  “No, I’m good,” I said and pushed the elevator up button for him.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean what I said, you know that, right?”

  “Yeah.” Even so, I’m kinda glad you got the shit kicked out of you…

  “Will you tell her? I still can’t stand him, but even with dumping me like she did, she hasn’t done anything to deserve what I said to her.”

  “I think you should tell her yourself.”

  The elevator doors opened and Keith staggered inside. He went to hit the button for his floor, missed, and then got it on the second try. Looking at me, he nodded, saying, “Yeah, you’re right,” just as the doors closed and the elevator began its ascent.

  I was shaking my head and thinking about all the damage and problems that could probably be laid at the feet of substance abuse as I sent Jeff a text telling him that I’m here. I figure I’ll just give him the letter and book to give to her because I still really want when we talk to be up to Camie. I did a little more pacing as I waited for Jeff, still trying to not edge myself closer to the ballroom doors. I thought about hiding in the men’s room and had just turned to head that way when Jeff’s voice had me turning on my heel.

  “Trist, dude! What the hell?!”

  “What? What’s wrong?! Where’s Camie?!”

  “Oh, nothing’s wrong, she’s fine. She’s inside…Brandon and all the girls are with her, but what the hell did you do to get here so fast? Break the laws of physics?”

  “Oh, um yeah, no…hey, why is Brandon here anyway? I ran into Keith a minute ago…he looks like he got ran over by a train,” I answered and did my best to not answer at the same time. I know it’s just Jeff and he wouldn’t care really, but still, I feel kinda weird about being here.

  “No shit. Brandon and Melissa got back together, Keith started drinking tequila…you know how it goes. I’ll tell you what though, he might not look all that big, but Brandon’s one guy I don’t ever wanna piss off…you shoulda seen it, dude, it was fuckin’ nuts.”

  “Yeah, I bet,” I agreed and nodded, already knowing there’s a lot more to Brandon than meets the eye. Plus, I saw him take his older and much bigger brother down in a wrestling match last Sunday so I’m really not surprised.

  Jeff clapped and rubbed his hands together and said, “Well, you ready to go in and get this done?”

  I balked. “Yeah…about that. I’m not goin’ in there, so here, take this stuff and give it to her…I’ll just wait out here. Or, maybe out in the lobby…possibly the parking lot.”

  “You’re fuckin’ kidding me, right?” He asked and looked at me doubtfully.

  “No? Look, I don’t have a ticket to get in for one thing and you know what’ll happen if I go in there and see her with that Evil piece of shit…I can’t afford to do it, man, I can’t…”

  Jeff turned me by the shoulders and started walking me to the ballroom door, saying, “You’ll be fine, trust me. Besides, she knows you’re coming…”

  “What?! Why the fuck would you tell her that?!” I hollered and ground to stand still.

  “No, dude, I didn’t tell her…and she doesn’t actually know you’re here, but a litt
le bit ago Jillian spilled a cup of punch all down the front of Camie’s dress and she said you had to be here and blamed you for it. I still don’t know how she knew you were coming though…how do you think she knew?”

  I had to look at the ceiling and bite my lip to keep from laughing. I started shaking my head as we moved forward and replied, “She can’t blame me, that’s the cosmos’s area, not mine…”

  “Huh, she said something about that too…anyway, whatever, so we’ll just g—”

  “Uh-uh, I’m serious, man, besides, I still don’t have a ticket and I want it to be her choice to talk to me…I’m not gonna hijack her dance.”

  “Dude, you don’t need a ticket…Henderson had the door and she bailed like an hour and a half ago,” he started to tell me and then he looked at my face and sighed, “Alright, I get it. How about if you just stick to the walls and watch from a distance? ‘Cause I’m tellin’ ya, she’s not gonna shut you down tonight…she’s been havin’ a really shitty time and Katy and I both think she’s been secretly hoping you would actually show up and kidnap her.”

  “Humph. Well, I don’t want to kidnap her, that’s the point, but, I’ll go in. I won’t be blaming the cosmos if this blows up in my face though, I’ll be blaming you.”

  “Yeah yeah…come on you big scaredy cat,” he said and opened the doors.

  I followed him in, rolling my eyes and trying to not laugh at the scaredy cat comment. That was kinda hilarious comin’ from a guy who’s been known to occasionally have nightmares about one of my five-month-old kittens and a thirteen-year-old girl…

  Bon Jovi or Nickelback? ~ Brandon

  Pulling out a chair for my girl as we sat down at a table with Camie, Kate and Jillian, I watched Jeff leave the ballroom to go use the bathroom, and Scott wander over to get in line for punch.

  “Does this hurt?” Melissa asked me, leaning in to place a short little kiss on the small cut on my bottom lip.

  I shook my head and mumbled, “Mm-mm,” wanting that kiss to be longer and not quite so little even if it did sting a smidge.

  “How about this?” She asked, repeating the process with the cut on my cheek.

  “Mm-mm.” I winced a little though when she removed her lips from the cut and dabbed a wet napkin on it.

  She laughed and said, “Liar.”

  “I’m not a liar…it didn’t hurt until you started to fuck with it,” I retorted, laughing too, as I took the napkin from her and tossed it onto the table.

  “You’re such a baby…what about this?” She asked and traced a finger very lightly over the roughly six-hour-old tattoo below my neck.

  “What about it?” I asked quietly and tried to not wince or squirm out from under her finger as she traced the whole damned unhealed thing. Don’t get me wrong here, I can handle a lotta fuckin’ pain, but a fresh tattoo this size that’s bleeding again basically amounts to being a fourteen-by-three-inch open wound, so it doesn’t feel all that great to be touched there right at the moment, you know?

  “Does it hurt?”

  I almost said no again, but she raised her brow dubiously and showed me my own blood mixed with a little black ink on the tip of her finger so I went with the truth. “Yeah, little bit.”

  “Little bit…Brandon, it’s still bleeding!”

  I took her finger and wiped the blood on the front of my shirt. “I clot up pretty quick so it should stop soon.”

  “But, shouldn’t it still be bandaged? I mean it’s open, what about infect—”

  “It was done bleeding in less than an hour after I got it today…it’s not a big deal, the fight just started the bleeding again, but trust me, if it’s left alone it’ll stop and heal up just fine.” She kind of moaned her unsure disagreement and not that I mind the idea of playing doctor with her tonight, but the kind of role playing I have in mind doesn’t involve soap and band-aids, so before she could nag me about something I’ve had plenty of experience with, I decided to ask her about something I don’t have much experience with at all. “Hey Sexy, did you mean what you said to the joystick?”

  “Uhh, which part?” She asked and looked away to the dance floor.

  “The part where you said you love me…”

  She looked at the ceiling for a second and then finally at me and answered, “Mm, I don’t know.”

  “Excuse me? You don’t know?”

  “Ugh, fine…it depends on whether or not you’re gonna do the guy thing.”

  I was at a loss and starting to wonder if she’d been sippin’ off the joystick’s flask so I asked, “The guy thing?”

  “Yeah, the guy thing. You know, guys get all freaked out and either back way off or run screaming when they hear I love you.”

  I cocked my head to the side and just looked at her a moment before saying, “Um, last night I risked life and limb by scaling a goddamned two-story, rose covered trellis for you, twice, and got all scraped to hell in the process, I just kicked the shit out of your fuckin’ ex-boyfriend’s ass because he was bein’ verbally abusive to you, and now my blood is literally seeping through your name that’s permanently etched into the skin of my collar bone, so what do you think, Sexy, you think I’m gonna do the guy thing?” I heard snickering coming from around the table and when I looked at the other girls sitting there I saw Jillian roll her eyes at Melissa, Kate nodding at her like, “Duh,” and Camie trying to not laugh. I looked at Melissa and then back at the other girls, held my cup up in a half-toast and before I took a drink I said, “I’m just sayin’…”

  We were all laughing about Melissa’s irritated, “Ugh, fine, I love you, but I’ll be pissed if you freak out on me later,” statement when I saw Jeff walk back into the dance, and I hope no one took my choking on bad punch as the shock at seeing Tristan following him that it actually was. It was completely obvious Tristan didn’t wanna be seen by anyone, least of all Camie, as he clung to the walls of the ballroom and slowly made his way around until he stopped behind a tower of balloons across from us on the other side of the room. I looked back at Jeff who’d stopped walking to talk to Pete who I hadn’t seen since I went to the bathroom last, which had to be at least twenty minutes ago. They both looked over here, Pete appearing calm but hella pissed, and Jeff looking furious and nervous as his eyes darted over to Tristan hidden in the shadows. Pete followed his gaze and immediately looked away, no longer looking calm.

  I was trying to get a handle on what was happening when the fuckstick pulled up a chair in between me and Camie and said, “So, Camie, I know I haven’t been a very good date for this thing and I’m really sorry you’re having such a lousy time, but I come bearing punch, cherry not grape, and if you still want to, I’ll dance with you…just be warned, I pretty much suck at it.”

  She started laughing a little at his humble apology and the girls and him started to stand up to go dance, but then Camie went to pick up the punch he’d set on the table in front of her when all of a sudden, the tablecloth was pulled, making all the cups on the table tip over and spill. I looked at who was responsible and chuckled when all Jillian did was say, “Oops,” and gesture to a corner of the tablecloth that was stuck in her purse. I would say that she’d probably snapped her purse shut after putting lipgloss on or something, inadvertently catching the tablecloth, which was pulled away from the table when she stood up. That’s what I would say…if it were anyone except Jillian. It wasn’t that big of a deal, I mean most of the cups were empty except for Camie’s, but the fuckstick kinda freaked and Camie now has a few red stains on her dress to go with the many purple ones. I’m not too sure when or how exactly those got there, but Camie was just shaking her head in irritation and then she started looking around the ballroom when I decided to stand up and step into her line of sight to Tristan just as Pete and Jeff joined us.

  “Aw, what happened?” Jeff asked a little too sarcastically and nailed the fuckstick with his eyes.

  “Camie’s fuckin’ kid sister happened, that’s what! Seriously, are you retarded or something? I
mean, why are you even here? Isn’t it way past your bedtime?” I started shaking my head, but I was surprised when Jillian didn’t do or say a thing in response. However, Pete did.

  Standing next to Jillian, Pete had gone rigid and I sensed that energy I had before when he administered swift punishment to Jeff, and I’m pretty sure he wanted to eat the fuckstick’s heart, but all he did was nod at Jeff, who put on a hand firmly on the fuckstick’s shoulder and forced him back into his chair. Then, taking Jillian’s purse from her, Pete pulled out her iPod and played a video. You couldn’t see shit on the screen because wherever it was recorded was practically pitch dark, which made me think maybe the picture wasn’t the important part so switching gears; I started paying attention to the sound. It sounded like a conversation but there was only one voice. And then I heard it. My long sought after proof.

  “You mother fucker!! I knew you fucking raped that poor girl!” I announced, my suspicion vindicated at last, and then growling, I started to move towards him. I stayed put though when I felt Melissa’s hands gently push against my chest.

  He sat there for a second just listening to his own voice in shock, but then when he heard me and he saw Camie looking at me and then him in confusion, he tried to get up so he could make a run for it. Jeff wasn’t havin’ it though and I got the impression there was more to it, but in order for Jeff to keep him in the chair without breaking his neck like I’m sure he wanted to do, he had to set a photo album and an envelope on the table. Then he looked directly at Jillian and said, “I’d love to kill him right here and now, but that wouldn’t end well as we’re being viewed by too many people and then Katy would lose her fiancé and Tristan would lose his best friend because I would wind up in jail for literally murdering him, so please be my hero and tell me you got ‘em on you somewhere.”