The Other Fish in the Sea (Grab Your Pole, #2) Page 13

  “What was the bet for?”

  “Umm…I don’t even remember anymore,” Kate replied and laughed.

  “Just to see which one of us is more of a stallion,” Jeff told us and started cracking up at Tristan who’d flipped him off once again.

  “Yeah, you had an advantage though, dickhead.”

  “So you and your girlfriend made a bet with Kate and Jeff to see who could do it more?” Julia asked, clearly intrigued. Now they’re getting on my nerves.

  “Not really. That was his advantage…I’ve never had a girlfriend until Camie... How ya doin’, Baby? You still okay back there?” He asked with a small chuckle while looking up and over his shoulder at me.

  I know he can tell I’m getting irritated with the girls, but other than that I’m fine. This is all pretty hilarious and besides, I think he’s really having fun. You find out a lot of stuff you didn’t know about people when you play games likes this. Like the fact that Melissa has obviously over-imbibed on at least one occasion…I wonder if that’s what has kept her from drinking as much as everyone else I know. Huh.

  “I’m good, but can we trade places?” He’s heavy and Pirate Punch is yummy so it’s getting increasingly more difficult for me to sit up and support his weight. Therefore if we don’t switch, we’ll be horizontal soon.

  “Yep!” So we swapped positions so that I’m leaning against him, which is nice because now he can put his arms around me and I can be the recipient of his award winning snuggling.

  “But I thought you went out with Melissa…” Julia said, again being confused.

  “Yeah I did, but having a one night stand or even going on a couple of dates is completely and totally different than being in an exclusive relationship, and in my entire life, the only person I’ve ever made a commitment to is Camie. And because I almost lost her and the chance to experience the distinction firsthand, I committed myself verbally and even in fuckin’ writing, right, Baby?” Tristan said, sounding a little more than proud of himself for having done so.

  “Right.”

  “So wait, you’re saying for the bet and anytime before Camie, you just had sex with whatever girl was willing?” It was Dylan who asked and in a way that sounded like hero worship. Tristan’s acquiring quite the following. First it was Brandon, now Dylan, and Jeremy’s not far behind them. He’s still afraid of Tristan, but he’s got that telltale look of idolatry on his face.

  “Not like that was difficult. Look at him, what guy or girl could resist him? Plus like I said, he really is kind of a slut,” Pete said, making everyone start laughing again.

  “Recently reformed promiscuous reprobate!” Tristan and I hollered at the same time and started laughing, but he’s laughing into my neck so now I have goosebumps.

  “But aren’t you worried about catching something?” Julia asked, now that she’s realizing just what a veritable rainbow of color Tristan’s past really is.

  “Not anymore,” It took a great amount of restraint to not react when he surreptitiously pinched my virgin butt. “But I take safety as seriously as I take foreplay, and that’s pretty goddamned seriously.”

  “Still…”

  I should probably mention that Kate has been watching Tristan carefully but she just flashed me a look that said, “Pay attention,” so I’m guessing I’m about to learn something relevant and because she can see his face, I’m assuming he wants me to listen carefully as well.

  “Alright look, I have my own set of rules that I hold myself to whether anyone, myself included, likes them or not and I have never once gone out to play in the rain even a little bit without being dressed accordingly.”

  “Yeah, he’s a control freak about his rules and shit like that…that’s what really lost him the bet,” Jeff admitted like he was pouting, but I got the feeling he’s saying more than that as well. I love that I can speak in code and that I’ve sort of learned how to read between the lines…it makes things so much easier.

  “But how do you know for sure?” Jeremy asked. Good lord…this is like sex-ed for those who are afraid of talking to their parents about it.

  “I’m a creature of habit and I’ve never flunked a test in my life,” Tristan answered casually and took a drink.

  And just so you know, he’s being this forthright by answering these questions for my benefit, not theirs. Typically he prefers to keep his life as private as possible and wouldn’t talk about something this personal in an open forum with people he doesn’t exactly know. He’s letting me know that he’s religious about practicing safe sex, that he habitually gets tested and that he’s clean. So yeah, good to know… Also, he’s not unaware of the fact that there are two obviously impressionable, young male teens here who are viewing him as a mentor, so he’s trying to instill some sense of safety and responsibility in them too.

  “So, is there anything else you guys wanna know about my private life (See?) or can we get back to the game and continue getting drunk? Oh Blechk!” Tristan made a disgusted sound after having taken a drink from Kate’s bottle by mistake. “Jesus, Kate, little strong don’t ya think?”

  “I like it just how it is, thank you very much,” she replied and snatched her drink from him.

  “Whatever floats your boat,” he told her with a laugh.

  “OH! Have you ever watched the Titanic go down?” Jeff asked, picking the game back up and letting out another little wicked cackle when everyone went to take a drink.

  Tristan put his hand on my arm to stop me while taking a drink himself and then he flipped Jeff off. His middle finger should be in excellent shape after tonight…

  When I looked up at him in question, he bent his head and whispered, “Not without gum, Camie.”

  Oh yeah…I don’t know how I forgot about that.

  “Yes, she has! We watched that documentary a few summers ago when they came out to visit...she even made a model of the damned thing as a home-school project!” Dylan accused. I did, it was fun.

  Tristan leaned down and whispered, “Did you?” When I looked over my shoulder and nodded, his lips quirked and he was about to say something else, but he shook whatever it was off.

  “Bro…not what he meant,” Derek informed Dylan and everyone else with a grin when he caught on.

  “Oh! Ew!” Bridget and Julia said together, both totally grossed out.

  “Have either of you ever tried it?” Brandon asked, chuckling at their disgusted reaction.

  “NO!” Julia said defiantly. I’m thinking she’s mostly talk now.

  “Then how do you know?”

  “Because I’m a girl and no matter what you guys think, we think that’s just nasty!”

  “Not every girl…right dude?” Brandon asked Tristan who only replied by flipping Brandon off when I muttered an expletive or two under my breath. (Oh look, a zombie…)

  “Well I have and trust me, I will never ever do it again,” Bridget said firmly.

  “At the risk of making my boy-toy fly into a jealous rage, I gotta say that’s not what it sounded like to me earlier,” Pete said light heartedly, causing everyone to laugh and Bridget to throw him an irritated look.

  “Since you and your boy-toy have both had so much experience with doing it, you should agree that it’s disgusting,” she retorted and made an unpleasantly realistic gagging sound. So Bridget’s not so much talk…

  “Clearly your technique could use some work, but let’s clarify…are we talking about being the boat or being the iceberg?” That was Tristan and he’s totally making fun of her for the gagging.

  “Uhh, the boat I think, is there really a difference?”

  “Find yourself a talented boat and I guarantee you’ll have the answer to that.” Now I know he’s messing with her because his tone was distinctly conceited. Yeah, clearly he’s in a mood tonight.

  “Okay, to clarify then, have you ever been the boat?” Derek asked and it was only him, Tristan, Jeff, Kate, Brandon, and Bridget who drank.

  “Ever been the iceberg?” Again, Tris
tan, Derek, Jeff, Kate, and Brandon drank, leaving out Bridget, but they were joined by Melissa, MaryAnn, and Dylan. Huh. Not only is Pete a virgin, but like me, he hasn’t done much of anything whereas Dylan has. Wow, drinking games really do teach you stuff. Hey! This is like homeschool for the teenage debased!

  “Hey, good for you…was it the cute little chick you’re goin’ out with now?” Brandon asked, sounding very pleased for Derek’s little brother.

  “Yeah, we’ve been together for almost a year now.”

  “A yea—Wait, when’d you get the blow job?” Brandon asked, like he was trying to add things up in his head.

  “First time was at that eighth grade graduation party last year.”

  “The fir—and you still haven’t returned the favor? Pretty chicken shit if you ask me,” Derek said and gave Dylan a chiding look while Brandon was shaking his head in disappointment.

  “Better train him up, man…” Tristan admonished Derek who nodded his agreement while still looking at his little brother in reproof. I’m assuming this is more of the fabled Guy Code. Kind of like the Golden Rule. You know, do unto others as you would have them do unto you…

  “Well, I gotta be honest, that just sounds completely gross,” Dylan admitted with a queasy look.

  “See?! Guys don’t like doing it as much as we don’t!”

  “The kid doesn’t speak for all of us,” Jeff said seriously, shaking his head.

  “Are you saying you would rather be the boat?” Bridget asked almost taken aback.

  “No, but every good captain goes down with his ship,” Jeff replied, giving Kate a high-five and then a sweet kiss on the cheek. Her expression is hysterical by the way, she gave a firm nod and I swear I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear her say, “Damned skippy.”

  “Okay, so who would rather be the iceberg?” Julia asked. Every guy and girl it applied to in the tent aside from the solid wall behind me drank.

  “No way, that is total bullshit!” Brandon said, sounding extremely confident.

  “Why is that bullshit?” Tristan questioned in response with a small chuckle.

  I’m not sure if he’s actually telling the truth, though. He might just be messing with Brandon now after bringing up Samantha and that infamous email I’ve still never been allowed to read. I mean Samantha’s not enough for either of us to call the game but, she still grates on my nerves pretty heavily and he knows that.

  “No normal guy would rather go down on a chick over her going down on him.”

  “Dude, haven’t you been paying any attention to this guy? He’s not normal! You don’t get to be the way he is without being different! And just so you know, Pete, Trist really does prefer to give rather than receive so that should go in the pros column too,” Jeff said, laughing while informing me that no, Tristan is not lying or messing with Brandon.

  I’m now thinking he might be messing with me though. I’m kind of glad I can’t see his face…I’d lay some heavy odds that his eyes are a dark midnight blue by now even though he’s chuckling at Jeff’s “Gay Pete” joke.

  “Is he tellin’ the truth? Would you seriously rather be the boat?” Dylan asked, very interested to hear from his new idol.

  “Yep. I’d come back as a goddamned submarine if there’s such a thing as an afterlife.” Well, there’s a statement and a visual image for you. And I thought Jillian was blunt. Oh, and I don’t think I’ll be able to watch Titanic or Hunt for Red October ever again without being reminded of this night.

  “Why?”

  “I was brought up right and I enjoy doing things I’m good at.”

  Yep. He’s definitely in a mood and even though he answered lazily, I totally caught the smug arrogance in his voice so I can rather vividly picture the cocky grin that always goes with the tone. The one that always makes my knees weak and has me feeling like silly putty.

  Oh and by the by, I’d like to strangle Bridget for the “come hither” look she’s got on her face now and if I drink any more, I might just do it.

  8.

  Pirate Punch + Kevlar = The Designated Hitter & Sympathy From The Devil

  So I didn’t strangle Bridget, but I did drink more. The problem with that is by the time Tristan and I retired to the bus, I was in a mood and sort of felt like doin’ a little pitching of my own. He, however, chose to bunt.

  “What are you doing?” Tristan asked from somewhere in the neighborhood of my mid-section when I started wriggling around like a fish.

  “Trying to get these damned pants off! They’re irritating the crap out of me,” I answered in frustration. They really are bugging me. Riding pants really aren’t the most comfortable or conducive to making-out article of clothing ever invented, plus, they’re sandy.

  He chuckled at me and asked, “Would you like some help?”

  “I would love some help! I thought you’d never ask!” I replied and giggled a little. I may have hiccuped too, but I’m not sure.

  “Alright, but if they come off neither of us is gonna have much in the way of clothes on, you do know that, right?”

  We really won’t. His sweat pants (the red ones with the orange logo down the leg) went right away because they were all wet after Ferb pulled Jeff’s full drink out of his hand and it spilled on Tristan right before we left the tent, and then I sent our shirts the way of the dinosaurs a while ago with my bra following them some time thereafter. So now I’m confronted with a dilemma…chuck the pants and retrieve a shirt and/or my bra—both of which sound like too much effort at this point and really, why bother—or keep the pants and deal with the bulk, sound, and sand, or say, “Screw it, I don’t care. Have your way with me then.” Decisions, decisions…

  “Screw it, I don’t care. Have yourself a field day.”

  He chuckled at me again, tented his hands on my tummy and considered me for a moment before saying, “Baby, you’re drunk.”

  “Yep, little bit.” I’m pretty sure I did hiccup that time.

  “Little bit Pete’s nice ass…a lot bit,” he said with another chuckle and some sarcasm.

  “Okay fine, maybe more than a little bit…so what? You gonna take the rest of my clothes off or not?”

  Tristan sighed deeply before answering, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear those words come outta your mouth and I cannot believe I’m gonna say this, but…no.” Are you thinking WTF too?!

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” I mean come on; this has to be a joke, right?

  “Uh-uh…no joke, Baby.” What the—? Did I say that out loud?

  “Why the hell not?” I’m not actually upset (maybe a little bit), but I’m really freaking confused and I’m also hearing Katy Perry singing “Hot and Cold,” because honestly, “Mr. I was wearing nothin’ but a towel after having sex fifteen times within twenty-four hours and would like nothing more than to be reincarnated as a goddamned submarine” is refusing to take his girlfri—I mean MY pants off! (Okay, maybe a lot bit.)

  “Alright, let’s just talk about this for a min—”

  “I don’t wanna talk about this for a minute!” I can’t believe he’s turning this opportunity down! I just want out of these pants and to get back to Teenage Pairs Smooching! You’d think he’d be totally all over the chance to medal in this event with me!

  “Uh-huh, okay…answer me one question then. Are you honestly, deep down, ready for me to take a full swing at what you’re pitching me tonight?”

  Uhhh. Ummm. Yes. I mean no. CRAP! Maybe?

  “That’s what I thought. You know what that hesitation tells me, don’t you? Baby, you’re not ready,” he told me in earnest and kissed my bellybutton.

  Seriously, he flat-out kissed my bellybutton, and let me just say Oh My God! I may have actually said (said, moaned…whatever) that out loud. In fact, I’m pretty sure I did. If he keeps that up though, my mental maybe will become a probably and soon after, not just a verbal yes, but an enthusiastic hell yes!

  “Bu—”

  “But nothing. No.” Crap, h
e stopped in the middle of another bellybutton kiss. I really liked that.

  “I really want out of these pants though Tristan…” Yeah, I’m completely whining and semi-willing to trade my virginity for getting out of my pants. And don’t you judge me until you’ve been stuck in nylon/polyester blend pants (ugh, the sound when they rub) with freaking hip pads and KEVLAR inner knee panels while your absurdly hot boyfriend is sending devastating sparks of lightning through your body with his ludicrously talented mouth! And just FYI, bulletproof vests have freaking Kevlar in them for crying out loud!

  He considered me again for another thoughtful moment and drummed his fingers on my stomach the way he does sometimes when he’s making a decision.

  “Alright, I’ll make you a deal. Your pants can come off, but a pair of mine goes back on and stays on. I’ll be damned if either of us gets naked tonight. Understand?”

  “Yeah, I got it…I’m Bridget and you’re being like Pete.” I’m pouting and now I think I have a little understanding of how Bridget felt earlier, not that she doesn’t completely irk me with the covetous way she looks at Tristan, but still.

  “Oh shit, Camie, you think I’m rejecting you?”

  “I don’t think, I know.” That’s what the word “No” means, right?

  “Aw, Baby…you have to know I would love nothing more than to get naked with you right here and now, but you’re drun—”

  “You’re not exactly sober you know.” He’s not. But he’s more sober than I am even though he drank quite a bit more than me. However on the other hand, he also outweighs me by more than a hundred pounds and he’s had way more practice than I have.

  “I’m sober enough.”

  “Enough for what?” I hate to admit it, but I really sound like a spoiled brat right now. It’s not flattering.

  “I’m sober enough to still care that you are not,” he told me tenderly.

  Ah. I think I’m having a light bulb moment…let’s see.

  “Why is that such a big deal?” I asked in a much more rational manner. I really want to know and I think, if my hunch is correct, I’m gonna owe him one.