Shark Bait (The Grab Your Pole Series) (25 page)

“Hey Katy, what’re you doin’ here? I thought you were goin’ to a movie…” Jeff said, coming up behind us and wrapping his arms around Kate in an affectionate and rather tender greeting.

“Oh um, well, I’m hungry so we decided to get something to eat…” She turned and answered, hugging him back, while over Jeff’s shoulder she gave me a look that said, “I don’t get it…he doesn’t know.”

“Oh, well cool…are you guys gonna hang out or get it to go?” Jeff asked, holding Kate’s hand and swinging it in a playfully sweet manner.

“Uh, I don’t know…what’s going on, why are the guys here?” Kate asked him, maintaining the secret of our real motive for being here.

“It’s Coach Jackson’s birthday so some of the guys decided to throw him a little party…you guys should stay,” Jeff answered and then turning to me he said, “Tristan’s in the back room throwin’ darts.”

“Oh, um…okay.” What I really wanted to know, though, was if Jeff had meant that as a warning and that maybe I should think about taking evasive action. I’d really hate to give Tristan a live target, you know what I mean?

Silently asking for some backup, I widened my eyes at Kate. I ended up stifling a whimper though; help wasn’t forthcoming. All she did was take a bite of the pizza Jeff presented her with while giving me a “go on, you can do it” look. So, go on I did, alone and not quite with my tail between my legs but close.

Passing Conner who’d just come through them, I pushed through the saloon-type, swinging doors that opened into the practically unoccupied room, trying to not think of this as a showdown like the Old West is infamous for as my eyes instantly landed on Tristan—just as he aimed a dart and let it fly. It hit the board squarely in the center but I think it’d probably been thrown too hard because instead of sticking, the dart bounced off the board and then clattered to the floor.

“Shut up,” Tristan said, grabbing a handful of M&Ms out the big bag sitting of the table and shoving them in his mouth before he bent down to pick up the wayward dart.

At first I thought Tristan was talking to me because I hadn’t seen Pete sitting there quietly in the shadows. But once I noticed him, it was clear he’d been about to comment on Tristan’s sub-par performance. And from the way Tristan said it, it was apparent that wasn’t the first time one of his darts had missed its mark tonight. Pete chuckled at him but rather than actually saying anything to rub it in, he just casually leaned back in his chair and without taking his eyes off Tristan, Pete let go off the dart he’d been holding. It sailed with frightful accuracy to hit the almost dead center of the dartboard.

Supremely confident, Pete didn’t even bother to confirm his bull’s-eye, he simply stood up and gave Tristan a conciliatory pat on the back.

“It’s just not your game.”

Tristan turned with his hands in the air, questioning, as Pete started to walk away. “Where’re you goin’? I thought we were gonna work it out a little…”

“We just did…plus you got your own stuff to work out,” Pete answered with a head nod in my direction. “So, I’m gonna give you some privacy while you do it.”

“
You’re
gonna give
me
privacy? Since when?!” Tristan asked with sarcastic disbelief, like Pete had made some kind of ridiculous joke.

“Since it’s the off season, dude. Besides, you know I’ll just watch the re-run on Borg TV come spring anyway, why see it twice?” Pete replied with a chuckle. Then as he walked past me, he dropped his voice and whispered, “He’s
all
yours…good luck.”

Not to get off topic or anything, but let me ask you something really quick…did he say
Borg
? Like from
Star Trek
? Or was it
bored
? I know…neither makes sense but I really think it sounded like Borg. Huh…that’s just weird.

Oh, sorry…where was I?

Oh yeah…

I watched Pete leave the room and didn’t have a clue what he meant about the off season or watching whatever on Borg(?) TV in the spring. I figured by how they’d said all that, though, it was some kind of inside joke, but since it didn’t have anything to do with me or this situation really, I just left it alone. I mean I’m not really in any position to be asking for more details about Tristan and his relationships with other people right now.

However, everything they said informed me that although Tristan might not have said anything to his best friend about what happened, he’d clearly said something to Pete. I found that interesting but ultimately disregarded it as irrelevant to my task. I just need to bite the bullet here, say what I came to say and then see where that leaves me. I just hope I don’t end up being a blubbering mess by the time I know where that is.

I approached Tristan slowly, biting back a wayward giggle when I heard him mutter to himself, “
Asshole.
Little sneak thief stole my goddamned M&Ms...” As I moved closer to him however, I felt like flinching when the previously jocular attitude he’d had while he’d been bantering with Pete was suddenly replaced with frigid emptiness.

Ignoring me, or rather, not being willing to even look at me, he yanked Pete’s dart from the board and preparing to leave the pizza place via the back door he said, “I have nothing to say to you.”

And so I began…

“Fine, then you’ll be free to listen,” I said, catching up to him before he got all the way outside.

“You don’t get it, do you? I’m over it. And I don’t hate you either, Camie…that would require me to feel something for you and I don’t. I just didn’t return your messages because none of this is worth my time.”

Tristan said it all like he very much meant every word. Then he finally tasted the fresh air as the door closed behind him.

Yeah. It hurt. I felt tears begin to sting the backs of my eyes but then something occurred to me… The other day Tristan told me that Zack and he take turns throwing punches and that, right now, it isn’t his turn. Only it is. I’d hurt him this morning and he’s fighting back. I’ll be honest; it kind of pissed me off. I mean here he is, trying to hurt me on purpose and I could
maybe
understand that if I’d hurt him intentionally, but the big obstinate jerk won’t even give me the chance to explain that the whole thing was just a ridiculous, yet
totally
believable series of misunderstandings and that I had freaking
grounds
to think what I did!

Okay, maybe being
kind of
pissed off isn’t quite accurate.

I shoved through the door, hot on his trail, and as calmly as I could for being as morally peeved as I was I said, “I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re over it, Tristan! I’m not and I deserve the chance to be heard and if you don’t give it to me, then
you’re
not worth
my
time.”

“Yeah see, that’s the beauty of being me in this…I get to not care about any of that because of the two of us, I’m not the new kid trying to fit in.”

It was a particularly snide thing to say and made me show my distaste in my face. And just so you have an idea what that looks like, my dad calls that expression the “I smell a fart face.” It’s not the most ladylike way to put it, but hey, it’s spot on.

Now, I don’t know what exactly made me say it but a reminder of what he’d said to me this morning came out of my mouth and changed the course of—well, everything I guess.

“This morning you said you thought I was different…well, just so you know, I thought you were too. And I can assure you, the disappointment is entirely mutual. Not to mention that from now on, watching my favorite TV show is only gonna remind me of a callous jerk and how completely wrong I was about him.” Crestfallen and with tears pricking the backs of my eyes again, I turned to go inside.

He caught my arm to stop me, the jolt of his touch producing an almost irresistible desire—an unfathomable longing for the impossible. In that single moment, all I wanted was to press my body to his and have his lips on mine. I shoved the thought and inclination away with force and ignored them. And I tried to ignore him too; I couldn’t. I just couldn’t ignore his words and their subtle suggestion that we have something...and that it might be worth trying to find out what exactly that is.

“I wanted to hate you. I even tried, but...I can’t do it. And it’s not because I don’t feel anything.”

“So do you maybe think we’re both still right?”

“About being different?” I sniffled back my tears and nodded. “I honestly don’t know, but I do know that I don’t like making you cry…I don’t especially care for what being wrong would mean either.”

“Um…I don’t know what that means,” I admitted and felt my face flush just slightly.

I’m hoping it means Tristan might be willing to get back in the boat of his own volition. It might seem like a lot to hope for at this point, but that tender compassion I’d heard from him at Mike’s was very evident in his voice and expression again so, I’m gonna go ahead and hope. And at the very least, now I know he hadn’t truly meant the cruel things he said before.

He looked at me for a thoughtful and unnervingly long minute before letting out a small
“Humph.”
Then he said, “I guess it means that if you’re game, we can give it another go.”

I swallowed my inner whooping and jumping for joy and tried to just play it cool. “Yeah, I guess…my Friday just opened up so I think I can squeeze you in then.”

Tristan grinned at my attempt at lightening the mood. “Sure, pencil me in for Friday. Just do me a favor, Camie, try not to have me father any other kids from now on. Oh wait, I take that back. As long as we’re not successful, I’m up for trying if you are.”

Yeah, I was stunned stupid
and
speechless. I just stood there, not knowing what to say about his blatant suggestion that we have sex.

Then I realized Tristan was trying to lighten the mood in his own way by teasing me and making a joke about my faux pas when he flashed me an impish look and innocently asked, “What? Too soon?”

In relief, I blew out the breath I wasn’t aware I’d been holding and with my own puckishness I said, “Uh, ya think? I mean my cheeks aren’t even dry yet, Tristan. Plus, we barely know each other. Not to mention that success is pretty important to me. I hate not accomplishing the things I set out to do…it makes me feel like I’m a failure.”

Tristan started laughing about that and when he stopped; I explained why I’d thought what I did. Now that he’d allowed himself to cool off and was finally prepared to listen to me, he was pretty great about seeing the situation from my side. When I finished, I looked up and noticed he was staring at me in sort of an odd way, like he was debating something. I wasn’t going to say anything but when he started drumming his fingers on his thigh, I just couldn’t resist.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Mmm…just out of curiosity, would it have mattered?” He asked in a way that made me think that wasn’t what he’d actually been questioning.

“Would what have mattered?” I asked, not following at all.

“If I
had
been Joey’s father would it have mattered to you?”

I wasn’t prepared for that and I hadn’t ever come to a decision about it so I just told him the truth. “Honestly, I don’t know. I mean I spent the entire night awake asking myself that exact question and I never came up with an answer, but I do know that I would’ve had no problem being your friend. That I’m sure of.”

“Humph,”
he uttered with a small nod.

I thought he’d asked what was on his mind but he was still looking at me in that undecided way, making me wonder if there was more to it or if my answer just wasn’t as definitive as he was wanting it to be. “You’re still staring at me…”

“Oh, well I kinda wanna kiss you right now,” he told me in a rather contemplative, yet offhanded way, like he was just thinking out loud while he was trying to decide if he should or not.

“So why not just kiss me,” I said, trying to help him out of his conundrum. I mean I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to doing a little smooching after this narrowly avoided disaster, you know?

“Mmm, I
would,
but I kinda don’t wanna just kiss you.”

Of course I didn’t really know what he meant by that. I mean, does he not want to kiss me or does he? This really isn’t a hard question, you know what I mean? Well, that is unless you acknowledge the possibility that he could’ve been talking about having sex again. Regardless, I wanted to know what he meant and I was about to ask but right then, Kate, Jeff, and another guy found us outside and all three of them informed us that Tristan needed to come check Conner out; he’d either just sliced through his finger or burnt himself on the pizza oven, or I think maybe both. I don’t know though…the guys were doing that excited talking over each other thing so it was hard to follow.

“Why Tristan?” I asked Kate, looking for an answer as to why he was needed in this scenario.

“Oh, he’s a State Beach lifeguard and like the next best thing to a paramedic. Conner doesn’t wanna go to the hospital and half the guys think he should and the other half doesn’t, but they’ll all shut up and listen to what Tristan says.”

“Oh,” I said and then realized she didn’t look too good. “Um, are you okay?”

“No, I’m not. That was seriously gross. I mean he was bleeding all over a pepperoni and sausage pizza. In fact, if I don’t stop picturing it I’ll totally throw up,” Kate answered with a nauseated grimace and then, nodding to Tristan with her chin as we followed him and the guys back into the main dining area, she asked, “Did you guys talk?”

“Yeah, we got it all straightened out and we’re back on for our date.”

“Thank God… Okay well, I’m guessing he’s gonna be a while so do you mind if I take you home? I really don’t feel good anymore,” she told me, looking more than a little green around the gills.

“Yeah sure, no problem,” I answered automatically.

I’d love to stay and hang out and watch Tristan do whatever it is he does, but if what Conner just did to himself is as disturbing as it sounds, then no thanks, I think I’ll pass. I mean playing Tristan’s nurse in the surgery of him getting dressed is one thing, but aiding him in actual bloody first aid is quite another.