The Other Fish in the Sea (Grab Your Pole, #2) Read online

  “Yeah, I really think we should. If we want them to learn to socialize, I think the more places we take them at an early age, the better.” Yeah, he takes his parenting pretty seriously, but it’s super cute so I don’t tease him about it.

  “Okay by me…oh, we’ll have to make sure their box stays ultra clean though.” I don’t even want to think about what a dirty litter box would smell like in an enclosed space like his bus…ew.

  “I was just thinking about that too…but you know, we really should have two boxes anyway. It’s a pain in the ass transferring the one, so I think I’ll get a couple of those automatic cleaning ones for each of us and then we can just take one of those and not have to worry about standing vigil over it.”

  With that minor problem solved and arriving at my house, Tristan dropped me off and collected Phineas and Ferb to take them to his house for the next five days before we leave for our extended holiday play-date. He came back to pick me up about two hours later for our bowling date. It might seem like we’re connected at the hip, but we’re really not. Well, not completely connected anyway. As much as I think he’d prefer otherwise, we sleep at our own houses. We’re just doing what his parents have always done by having instituted our own “Friday Night Date Night.” It really doesn’t matter what the activity is as long as we do it together, and this time, I think the whole clan will be joining us.

  And I was right.

  Not only were our immediate group of friends already there when we got to the bowling alley, but it appeared that MaryAnn, my cousin, Derek, and a bunch of his friends had also chosen this night to engage in some ten-pin frivolity. They were playing in the lanes next to us and all together; it looked like we took up a good third of the establishment.

  “Hey! Shark Bait’s here!” Derek’s enthusiastic greeting also included giving me a rib-bruising hug.

  Tristan and Derek gave each other the “guy nod” in lieu of saying hello and then we all got down to our bowling business.

  “Hey, who’s Gumby?” Pete inquired upon looking at the scoreboard above us.

  I think Jeff is responsible for all the nicknames being used tonight because Tristan’s is Peter Pan. Just the idea of him in tights is hysterical in itself, but that’s not why Jeff chose it. He’s teasing Tristan by drawing a parallel between him and the author of the book, J.M. Barrie, who supposedly got married and then became celibate, having never consummated the marriage. And we all know this because we had a discussion about him in English last week.

  “Oh dude, you totally missed it! Camie, show him what you can do,” Jeff said in an effort to get a rise out of Tristan.

  I also think Jeff is just about the only one who can get away with baiting Tristan the way he does. Tristan doesn’t have a whole lot of patience nor does he put up with much crap from anyone, but there is very little Tristan will get truly upset with Jeff over.

  “Yeah, go ahead, Baby…show him,” Tristan told me with a wink and a wickedly cocky grin.

  Tristan then stretched his legs out in front of him and put his hands behind his head, waiting to see what I’d do. I’m not sure if he would’ve tried to stop me, but I’m not stupid. I know that he knows that we have four nights coming up in which I’m sure he’ll find some way to re-script the rules if I’m not careful.

  “Sorry, Pete, you should’ve been there…it was a limited engagement and there was only the one show…no encores are planned at this time,” I said sympathetically.

  “Chicken,” both Tristan and Jeff said together.

  I smacked Jeff in the arm and then stuck my tongue out at Tristan who only came right back with, “Is that an invitation or a promise for later?” So of course, I had to smack him too.

  Now I should probably take a quick minute to explain something. It might sound like Tristan is constantly pressuring me to go further than where we agreed to draw the line, but precedent was set long ago and it’s just how we play with each other. Not that he doesn’t take full advantage of any leeway he might happen to get, but for that to occur; I have to give him the leeway in the first place, which does happen from time to time. For the most part, though, he does a really good job of toeing the line even if it frustrates the crap out of him to do so. Anyway, I just thought you should know.

  Being that it was a week before Thanksgiving, Kate had made a declaration at the beginning of the night that she would buy the first person to get a turkey (that’s three strikes in a row) whatever they wanted from the snack bar or a souvenir t-shirt from the pro-shop. So with that competition going on and not having school for a week, on the whole, everyone was having a lot of fun and totally goofing off. Honestly, I was picturing the bowling scene in Grease 2 almost the whole time—minus the dancing and breaking into song of course. Also, even though MaryAnn is our Varsity Cheer captain and she’s going out with Derek, we weren’t really socializing with them and his group of friends, being from opposing schools and all. However, at one point he called over to me when I had a mouth full of chili-cheese fries…

  “Hey Shark Bait, you gettin’ geared up for next week?”

  I couldn’t answer verbally without allowing food to fall from my mouth, but I did nod in the affirmative.

  “Alright, that’s the like third time I’ve heard him say it and I’m dying to know…why does he call you Shark Bait?” The question came from Jeff, but I could tell that pretty much everyone in hearing range was curious now that attention had been brought to my cousin’s unusual nickname for me.

  Crap.

  Apparently Kate never explained it to Jeff, which would’ve been fine for her to do now that we’re together, but Tristan never asked me about it either. And not that I care if he knows, but it’s not really an explanation I want to get into with a bunch of kids from Derek’s school or mine listening in.

  “That’s a story for another time…hey man, did I hear you’re coming with us?” Derek replied in my stead, saving me from talking with my mouth full and artfully changing the subject back to the desert by directing a question to said Shark, who’d still managed to pick up on my discomfort and was curious to know the reason for it.

  Letting go of his obvious intrigue for the time being, Tristan just narrowed his eyes at me a little and simply answered, “Yeah, I am.”

  “Right on. So just a little heads up, the adults don’t really give a shit what we do as long as we aren’t obvious about it and we’re safe, so if you wanna drink you gotta figure out a way to camouflage it somehow.” I told you, teenager heaven. “This year’s gonna be a blast too. MaryAnn and Brandon are coming with me, my kid brother has a friend coming, and oh! Hey Camie, did you hear? Julia and Parker are bringing friends too…I think the teens might actually outnumber the adults this year…”

  Julia and Parker are more cousins of ours. They’re twins and are juniors at a different school from both Derek’s and mine. I’m doing the math in my head in regard to the adults vs. teens and I’m pretty sure Derek is right. I fear for the adults. So with that in mind and listening to Derek and Tristan swapping ideas on the best ways to covertly drink in front of the adults, then discussing what kind of speed and stuff their bikes are capable of, and Tristan inviting Derek to the river the next time he goes, I started giggling to myself by picturing Derek in a tux at my wedding. Obviously that’s going to be years from now, I am only fifteen, but really, it seems like Tristan is already part of my family and I’m nothing if not a positive thinker! I crack myself up.

  And then—because you know, the evening was thus far drama free—it had to happen…

  Tristan was bowling and his phone was sitting in front of me on the scoreboard console when he got a text. Because his phone is similar to mine in the way that incoming texts just show up on the screen, I didn’t have to open it or touch it at all to read the text from Samantha, the original reason Derek refers to Tristan as “The Shark.” Apparently Tristan wasn’t all that clear in his dismissal of her last month when she’d told him to K.I.T.—you know, “keep in touch”
—ugh. Not only that, but from what she said, she’s here...

  Samantha: want to get out of here? josh and i r thru & i want 2 get laid.

  You can imagine I probably didn’t have the most pleasant expression on my face when he came walking back up after having finished his second ball.

  “What?”

  I can’t justify being mad at him but I’m far from being happy, so I just got up to take my turn. “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit. What’s wrong with you?” He asked as I picked up my ball.

  “You got a text,” I told him without looking back while I made my approach to bowl the first ball of my tenth frame. I really had to try very hard to not decipher which of the girls hanging out in the neighboring lanes Samantha was so that I could hurl my eight-pound bowling ball at her head.

  Did you know that latent anger is good for bowling strikes? Well, it is.

  After watching the ten pins go ricocheting off each other and the side walls for the third time (If you bowl a strike for your first ball on the tenth frame, you get two more balls…so, I ended up getting three strikes.), I turned around to see that instead of looking at me, Tristan was looking in the direction of the other lanes, appearing to be about as unhappy as I am. Maybe. I don’t know though…getting a turkey was great but I’d still like to see what kind of damage a bowling ball to the head does. Seriously, I had to force myself to not pick up another ball and follow his gaze.

  “Nice frame, Camie! You got the first turkey!”

  I’m pretty sure that came from Pete, but it could’ve been Mike or Keith, or maybe even Conner…either way, I ignored him.

  “Uh-oh…there’s murder in them there eyes…good thing I’ve got a shovel.”

  That was most definitely Jeff. I ignored him too, but mentally I got a small chuckle over his explanation about the shovel to Melissa when she asked him what he meant.

  “You find out who your real friends are when you call and tell ‘em you just accidentally killed a hooker and they show up with a shovel and a full tank of gas.”

  Already on the defensive, Tristan grabbed my arm as I went to walk past him on my way to the bathroom. “This isn’t my fault, Camie.”

  “I know that,” I replied in a clipped tone.

  “Okay, so you’re gonna punish me for something I had no fuckin’ control over. That’s just fuckin’ great.”

  “You know what, Tristan? Now would be an excellent time for you to realize that I’m not mad at you, but that I am mad and that I might need a minute to cool off, okay?”

  He studied my face briefly. It vaguely looked like he might’ve been considering using our shared anger over this as an excuse to lose control and vent our emotions on each other with unbridled passion. We’ve done this a few times, and although it’s pretty freaking spectacular, we don’t give in to the temptation very often. There are a couple reasons why we don’t, but it’s mostly because I’m not ready to not be a virgin and he knows that. What he doesn’t know is that I’ve been thinking about it more and more lately. I’m not there yet, but I am thinking. Really, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that it’s been on my mind more than his. Yeah, and I’m still blaming those over-active and not-so-under-used-anymore hormones.

  Anyhow, I’m guessing he must’ve come to the conclusion that I would’ve been even more pissed if he did that in a crowded bowling alley, because he only pulled me to him by my elbow so he could kiss the top of my head and then without another look or word, he let me go. And go I did, rather quickly and without looking back.

  I was barely to the sinks in the bathroom before Kate appeared and because that’s totally the kind of friend Kate is, I half expected her to be carrying a shovel.

  “So you could cut the tension out there with a freaking plastic spoon…what the hell happened?”

  “I don’t wanna talk about it,” I told her while splashing cold water on my face.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yep. I just need a few minutes.”

  “Okay, but my door’s always open if you change your mind,” Kate told me and then left to give me my space, which is not a typical request of mine.

  I usually like to talk things out with her and/or Melissa, but I really don’t want to talk about this because the truth is, I thought I’d put the whole Samantha thing behind me. However, my reaction tonight proves I haven’t and I really don’t like what jealousy feels like. I now have a completely new understanding and appreciation of how Tristan feels about it, and I gotta tell ya, it’s no picnic. I’m also tempted to say that from now on, I won’t find his desire for no one of the male persuasion to lay a finger on me to be amusing anymore, because I swear to God, if she were to actually touch him in any way—even to remove a freaking piece of lint from his clothes—I’d probably go berserk.

  I left my self-imposed exile after having spent somewhere between five and ten minutes alone, telling myself that Tristan has a sexual history that doesn’t include me, that it wasn’t the first time a girl hit on him and it probably wouldn’t be the last time either… These are the issues you face when your boyfriend is ridiculously beautiful and was previously kind of a slut. Breathing evenly again, I felt composed enough to rejoin the herd. As I did, my attention was drawn to my friends laughing pretty hard so I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and walked right into someone and almost fell on my butt in the process.

  “Oh! Sorry!”

  “No worries…oh, hey, aren’t you Derek Bailey’s cousin?” The guy asked and almost reluctantly, he let his hands drop from my arms after having steadied me.

  “Yeah.” I took a good-sized step away.

  “I thought so. What’s your name again?”

  “Camie.” I almost said Not Interested in place of my name.

  “I’m Scott. I’m a friend of Derek’s.” I’m thinking, “Good for you.”

  Yeah I know, I’m being snarky again. I’m not really meaning to be a bitch and it’s not that he’s flirting with me at all; I think I’m just being overly sensitive. Besides, I’d hate for Tristan to see this and think I was doing it as revenge or something.

  “Oh, okay. I think it’s my turn to bowl, sorry again for running into you,” I told him more politely and continued my way back to the lanes where I could see Kate looking irritated but pleased.

  “Hey Camie, you just missed it!” Melissa said, still laughing and wiping at her running mascara. I think she should invest in some good quality waterproof stuff because she almost always ends up in tears when we’re all together like this.

  “Missed what?” I asked and allowed Tristan to pull me onto his lap.

  I got goose bumps when he kissed my neck and then completely amused with my obvious jealous reaction, he whispered in my ear, “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

  “Katy just totally buried your hooker,” Jeff informed me with pride.

  I could tell Tristan was fighting to keep a straight face but when he caught me glaring at him, he lost the battle and started cracking up. I was then told that after Kate left me in the bathroom, she went straight up to Tristan and demanded to know what he’d done to make me so mad because she was “not going to allow another re-enactment of Halloween no matter how damned funny it was in hindsight.” Initially her butting into his business pissed him off, but she wouldn’t back down so he showed her the text. It made her so angry that she forced him to point out “my hooker,” then she marched over to her, snatched Samantha’s cell phone from her hand and proceeded to delete Tristan’s number from it with the added statement of, “Don’t ever even fucking think of texting or calling him again.” What makes it even funnier is that Samantha and her girl friends were too afraid of Kate to try to stop her, and the guys were more concerned with checking her out and laughing at her threats. Damn. I would’ve really liked to have seen that.

  Oh, and see? I told you, Kate’s that kind of friend.

  I was able to get over my irritation completely a couple minutes later when Kate’s eyes zeroed in on somethi
ng behind me and she said, “Look at that, she has her tail between her legs… Yeah, you better leave, you bitch.”

  “‘That’ll do, Pig, that’ll do’.” I started cracking up at Jeff’s response to Kate’s aggression on my behalf, being that it was a quote from the movie Babe. For a guy his age and being someone who’s a little on the chauvinistic side, Jeff has a relatively surprising fondness for little kid movies and the like, so when he contradicts his stereotypical “big, strong guy” persona by saying things like that, I find it hard to not at least giggle.

  I automatically turned to try to watch Samantha leave but Tristan clapped his hand over my eyes and folded me in on myself, preventing me from even getting a glimpse—for which I am actually grateful to him—while he laughed at me and said, “Oh no you don’t…it’ll just piss you off and while I think you’re kinda fun when you’re mad, Kate really isn’t so, do Jeff a favor and let it go. We can argue about it later.”

  “I’m not gonna argue with you about this, so get over it.” I’m thinking he’d really like to pick a mild fight with me right now and I’m just not gonna let him.

  He chuckled at me, gave me a delightfully appropriate kiss for being in the midst of about three-dozen kids and then mumbled against my lips, “We’ll see.”

  And there’s my advanced notice, which unsurprisingly, I chose to ignore later that night.

  3.

  Sister Sledge Goes To The Desert

  The next few days couldn’t have dragged on any slower. No one was having any parties that weekend, Tristan hadn’t been around much because he was doing some maintenance on his dirt bike in preparation for the desert, and I would’ve hung out at his place and watched, but then he wouldn’t have gotten anything done. Kate was packing and getting ready for her trip to New Jersey, Jeff was, of course, moping with her, and Melissa was getting ready for her family’s ski trip to Vail.