Shark Out of Water (Grab Your Pole, #3) Page 19

  I wanna say Camie was holding her breath when I turned around and realized she was about to touch me, but I’m really not sure because in that split second of awareness before she was slammed into me, personally, I’d started hyperventilating. All I could think about was fuckin’ Jeff’s nightmarish first kiss and how the only times in my life I’ve ever experienced any of that shit has been because of her. My breathing situation wasn’t bettered one bit when our bodies inevitably came colliding together and I swear to God, I not only felt, but heard the bolt of lightning that struck us down.

  Then, like I was being pardoned for good behavior or something—yeah, not likely, but just sayin’—she landed on me. When she raised her head and our eyes met, though, I fuckin’ lost it. I’m not sure what her reaction would’ve been had I not, but when I started laughing my fucking ass off, she got kinda pissed. I honestly couldn’t help it, though; she had frosting and ice cream on her face and chunks of cake in her hair, and she was just such a beautiful fucking mess that I had a really hard time not verbally thanking whoever came up with Nerf products as well as Home Depot for installing such a dangerously slippery marble floor in MaryAnn’s house.

  “But I—I was just bringing you your stupid freaking piece of cake!” She said in a wholly adorable flustered way of apologizing and started to hit me in the arm as she struggled to, sadly, get off of me.

  I was still laughing at her though so I’m hoping it didn’t come out sounding too terribly triumphant when I choked out, “Clearly,” and then I plucked a piece of cake out of her hair and popped it in my mouth. Seriously, that was probably the best bite of cake I’ve ever had in my entire fucking life!

  She hit me one more time and finally managed to not be sprawled on top of me anymore, but she was sitting there looking at my dessert-enmeshed shirt and pouting when she asked, “Why? Why the hell does this kind of stuff always happen to me around you?”

  “I dunno, have you been theorizing about my clothes with the cosmos lately?” I asked in gentle reminder about how I’ve always thought that she wears too many clothes around me and that the cosmos just happens to agree whereby providing little opportunities here and there to help me out. And to the cosmos; thanks, you’re the best.

  However, I really was just teasing about that so I wasn’t expecting the entirely guilty flash of surprise at getting caught for having licentious thoughts about me that crossed her face when she got my meaning and then denied it. “Wh—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Baby, you just got BUSTED!

  And just because that little bit of information has put me in a fan-fucking-tastic mood, I’m gonna prove to her that I know that she’s been fantasizing about me and my clothes. Or me out of my clothes. Whatever…she wants me. So to illustrate that knowledge, I gave her what she wanted but didn’t have, as Jeff had just put it, the intestinal fortitude to ask for and I took off my shirt. Slowly. Which I’m sure made me look like I was starring in a soft-core porn video that was being filmed and directed by people from the Food Network, like Cup Cake Wars Gone Wild or something. I mean come on, Satan’s already claimed and branded me as one of his own so if I’m gonna hang out in Hell for her, I may as well make it worth my while, right?

  And it so was…

  Her eyes bugged out for what was, in truth, probably just a millisecond but her jaw went slack at the same time and her face took on a patriotic quality as the rosy color in her cheeks got just slightly brighter and mixed with the blue and white frosting that was still clinging to them. But because we’re in the middle of a ceasefire right now, I firmly ordered my soldier to stand down and not salute as we both heard the Pledge of Allegiance with “America the Beautiful” playing in the background. And yeah, because I’m a glutton for punishment or just that big of an asshole, whichever way you wanna look at it, I made it even more difficult for both of us by saying, “Camie, if you wanted me to take my clothes off, all you had to do was ask.”

  Delightfully, she started spluttering but still didn’t deny having thought about getting me out of my clothes in some way when she exclaimed, “Oh my God! I did NOT do that on purpose, you big, arrogant son of a bitch! I can’t believe you’re blaming me for that!”

  I was having a blast playing with her, but she was getting close to some kind of meltdown and even though I’m gonna be awake all night playing the Would’ve-Could’ve-Should’ve game with myself, if her meltdown includes anymore physical contact, we’ll probably be in trouble. So, I continued to chuckle at her but I relented as well. “Camie, I’m not blaming you, I’m laughing at you.” Well, trying to laugh with her is more accurate, but since I’m not counting Jeff or Pete and she’s yet to crack a smile, I’m kind of in it alone.

  “But…why? This isn’t funny!” She said, like she was just completely lost without a sense of humor and needed me to teach her how to laugh again.

  And by the way, I didn’t have a single clue at the time, but it would be this moment, this whole ridiculous episode, that I would eventually at one point in the future come back to in determining the only way I could possibly go on in living out my life.

  “Camie, what about this isn’t funny? You’ve got cake smashed in your hair, frosting up your nose and ice cream dripping down your cheeks, and I’m not in any better shape, believe me! Because in addition to what I’ve got goin’ on upstairs, the ice cream my ass landed on is melting and totally soaking into my jeans and the second I stand up you just know it’s gonna run down my crack and it’s fuckin’ cold! And speaking of my ass, it’s probably gonna have an ugly bru—what?” I stopped and asked when she finally burst into laughter…and pointed.

  “Ji—Jillian,” was all Camie could get out, and even that was a struggle with laughing as hard as she was, but when she went to keep herself from tipping over by putting her hand on my chest, I was honestly grateful to see that Jillian had been video recording this whole thing because it gave me the very timely opportunity to jump up and chase after her, thereby removing myself from a temptation I’m pretty certain I wouldn’t have been able to withstand for much longer than two more seconds.

  However, not even five minutes later, I got my cue to remove myself from the party altogether when MaryAnn told Camie to get cleaned up and try on one of her uniforms. I was just about out the door when Camie caught my arm, sending a small but electrically charged current of energy trickling through me before she asked, “Wait, are you leaving already?”

  “Yeah, having your ass covered in ice cream sounds like a lotta fun in theory, but ah…things start getting sticky and just a mite uncomfortable after a few minutes,” I told her and chuckled at my partial truth. Yeah, I wasn’t lying about the ice cream dripping in between my ass cheeks, but seeing Camie in a cheer uniform would honestly be the uncomfortable part, especially since I know that at this moment, I won’t be able to hide my reaction to that or my feelings about how the rest of these boneheads are gonna look at her.

  She giggled at me and went to hug me but stopped herself. And no, I’m not sure if I was scared to death that she almost did or deeply saddened by the fact that she didn’t. Talk about embracing the pain…fuck.

  Then she just simply said, “Thanks for coming tonight.”

  “You bet, I told you you’d do great… Oh, and, thanks for the cake,” I told her and pulled another piece of my dessert out of her hair and winked at her.

  Really, it was some phenomenal cake.

  Justifiable homicide? I think so… ~ Pete

  I was standing with MaryAnn and Jillian right next to the door when Camie closed it, thinking to myself that tonight probably felt something like a success to both her and Tristan because, honestly, it could’ve been ugly but they both pretty much handled it with grace and dignity. Well, as much grace as being shoved into your ex/not ex and falling flat on your ass with them on top of you can be done with and as much dignity as being covered in food will allow. And I’m not even sure why he showed up tonight at all, because he really did not wanna b
e here and had said he wasn’t gonna come, but, I think it worked out. He could’ve been a little easier on her, but whatever, it was hysterical and at least he didn’t leave in a rage and she wasn’t in tears.

  Well, not yet anyway.

  When Zack opened his ignorant yap, I seriously revisited what I’m just gonna call The Great Ape…I think it has a nice ring to it.

  “If he thought you did so great then why didn’t he give you either one of his votes? I mean, you were awesome…I voted for you, everyone else voted for you, he was the only one who didn’t.” Yeah, the jackass actually told Camie that her not really ex-boyfriend whom I think is leaning towards figuring out a way to get her back without having to explain why he let her go in the first place—I could be wrong, but that’s the vibe I’m getting. Anyway, Zack just basically told her Tristan’s a vindictive prick and didn’t vote for her so she could be a cheerleader.

  “Wait, he what? He didn’t vote for me?” Camie asked like she couldn’t believe her ears, and then those ears started getting red as her temper ignited.

  Well, now I guess I’ll sit back with some popcorn and just watch the show when Tristan explains to Zack how his massive stupidity just complicated his already problematic love life one more degree.

  “Yeah. I mean I know you guys broke up, but still…that was kinda mean.”

  “Well, uh, yeah, ya think?! Wait, how do you even know who he voted for?” Camie asked after having pulled her phone out of her pocket and tapped an icon on the screen like she was gonna send a text.

  “Teresa polled the judges after tryouts because she thought it was rigged, so when she saw that everyone including Mrs. Kingston voted for you but that she and Dana each had one vote from Tristan, she had to drop her allegation,” MaryAnn explained a little uncomfortably.

  Seriously, can you blame her? And I knew Jillian was staring at me in some way, however, I don’t know what way it was because I refused to look at her. But, um, I think I might be in trouble because I just totally got caught in my lie.

  Damn it, Tristan!

  “Ooohhh…he voted for Teresa?!” Camie growled out and I started to worry less about the trouble I’m gonna have to face at some point and more about the scalding pot of boiling water Tristan had just landed in.

  “I know, right? And he can’t fuckin’ stand her…plus she wasn’t even good! She could not keep time with you guys even a little and her jumps sucked. Seriously, she was really bad…the other chick was okay, but nowhere near good enough to make Varsity compared to you so I just don’t get why in the hell he would vote for either of them over you. See, Camie? I told you he was an asshole…”

  This whole time Camie had been almost shaking with rage, but right about the point when Zack pondered aloud about why Tristan would vote for either girl over her, she did an about-face so fast that at first I thought she’d had some kind of brain aneurism. Her face drained of color and then her expression cleared, but when she actually smiled privately to herself and picked a piece of cake out of her hair and stared at it for a second before she ate it, I thought for sure it was time to call in the guys in white coats because she’d gone batty.

  But then she cleared the text she was typing, put her phone away and went off-topic in a way that only Tristan could’ve appreciated, making me want to blow my brains out again. Or as circumstance would have it…Jillian’s.

  “But I still need a date…Jilly, what did Parker say?” She sighed and asked my girlfriend whom I’ve yet to make eye contact with since she discovered I’d lied to her earlier about Tristan playing fair and still can’t because she won’t look at me now.

  “Yes,” was all Jillian said, remaining her publicly aloof self.

  “Crap, okay, well that leaves him out and Derek’s obviously out too…Robbie is still in a full leg cast from that skateboard stunt…stupid idiot…I really don’t wanna go with Dylan though…” Camie muttered, crossing off cousins on what sounded like a mental list of acceptable dates while she wandered away from all of us to, I would think, go get the remnants of her congratulatory cake off of her.

  I looked back at Jillian and asked, “What did Parker say yes to?”

  She took a moment for herself and I don’t know if she was making sure the others weren’t paying attention to us anymore or if she was trying to come up with an alternate plan to answering, but she did give me one and when I heard it, my mind went momentarily blank.

  She turned and met my eyes unflinchingly and then like it was no big deal she said, “I asked Parker to take me to the dance and he said yes.”

  And my bitter response to hearing that my girlfriend would rather have her fucking cousin take her to her first fucking formal dance than her boyfriend?

  I’m tempted to go get your dad’s shotgun and kill us both, but first… “I’m gonna go get some cake.”

  13.

  Sunday, Week 3

  Regret, past and future ~ Pete

  “I can’t believe you’re still irritated about this…” Jillian said as the racquetball I threw hit the X on the wall next to my TV.

  “I’m not still irritated,” I muttered and caught the ball when it came back to me and then I threw it again.

  “Liar. Are you gonna get over it anytime soon?”

  “I don’t kn—” I started to say as I caught the ball right when there was a quick preemptory knock on the door and Jeff walked in. “—oh shit!”

  Yeah, I probably could’ve used the damned remote that was sitting right next to me on the bed, which would’ve been a much surer way to turn off the TV that was currently tuned into Jillian’s bedroom, but my reflexes had me automatically hurling the little rubber ball at the on/off switch on my TV instead. I closed my eyes briefly and sighed in relief when Jillian, her voice, and her room disappeared.

  “Jesus, dude, you’re gonna break your fuckin’ screen…I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, you heard me knock, right?”

  “Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting it and the sound broke my concentration…I was goin’ for the X,” I lied, and using my head and finger, I pointed out the red duct tape on the opposite wall.

  “Oh. So uh, hey, do you have a few minutes?” He asked and closed the door behind him.

  “Yeah, the show I was watching just ended when you came in anyway, so what’s up?”

  It was my way of telling Jillian that I’m done talking about this shit for a while. Because honestly, I am still pissed about her asking Parker to take her to the goddamned dance even though it’s now Sunday and we’ve pretty much exhausted that topic over the last day and a half. I don’t like being pissed off at her and I’m in a shitty mood because I am, but I can’t seem to make myself let it go either, so really, I could use the distraction. Besides, it’s not like I’ve never had to be a silent witness to conversations that Jillian’s had before, so she can just deal with it.

  “Well, I just wanted to thank you,” Jeff said seriously.

  “Thank me? For what?” For the life of me, I can’t think of any favors I’ve done for him lately. Well, maybe aside from punching him in the face and not telling Tristan about Jeff letting Camie take off with some random guy none of us knows.

  “For finding him. Actually, for knowing him well enough to know that he needed to be found in the first place and then making the effort that I should’ve made but didn’t…and thank you for pulling him out of the water when you did. He would’ve died, Pete.” It wasn’t that I was irritated with Jeff at all; on the contrary, I really appreciated how hard what he was saying was for him, but when he let that one little detail escape, I clenched my teeth and stared hard at the little webcam mounted on top of my TV with the hope that the vigilante whom I’m sure is still watching and listening would understand me to mean that her cousin taking her to a dance will be the least of our problems if she decides to bring this up to anyone in any way, shape, or form…Tristan, or Jeff, or Camie specifically. “I’ve been jealous and had my head up my ass for so many years about the bond you guys have, but if
that link had never been formed and you didn’t know him inside and out like you do, my best friend would be dead. So, just…thank you for being the kind of person and friend you are and for having the balls to do what you do with him six months out of the year…that can’t be easy.”

  “Look, Jeff, I appreciate the thanks and everything, but…” I blew out a breath, “Honestly, I don’t know what to say here, but you’re right, sometimes knowing what’s on Tristan’s mind is frightening. Seriously, are you aware of some of the outrageous shit he’s thought up let alone actually done?” I asked him with a laugh, trying to lighten Jeff’s mood a little. Really, I love Tristan and synching with him is an amazing experience every time it happens, but his head can be scary in more ways than one, and the guy has done some things that not only baffle the mind, but are also just down right life threatening. I mean really, carnival rides aren’t all that structurally sound…

  “Oh dude, I know, huh? If other guys our age had any idea about half the shit he’s done, they’d cry themselves to sleep at night…I know Mike will never look at Saran Wrap the same way. Asparagus or figs either for that matter…Trist is right though, there’s some truth in that. Hey, speaking of food, I’m gettin’ hungry, you wanna go grab something to eat?”

  “Yeah, food sounds good…dude, where do you think he comes up with some of that?” I asked as I followed Jeff out the door after I looked back at the web cam and mouthed “bye” to my girlfriend whom I’m sure is probably now Googling what someone might do with plastic wrap, asparagus, and figs outside of wrapping ‘em up and throwin’ ‘em in the fridge. I wonder if I should tell her the Saran Wrap has absolutely nothing to do with the asparagus and figs. Well, I guess it could though…huh.

  “I dunno, his dad planted the fig trees though.”

  We talked and laughed as we shared a little bit of the harebrained stuff Tristan has dreamt up in his head, but as we climbed in his Jeep, Jeff’s mood turned pensive again…