Shark Bait (The Grab Your Pole Series) (16 page)

“Camie, that shirt…wow…that shirt is like one of his absolute favorite possessions. He got it when he made the Varsity team our freshman year
before
we even graduated junior high. He was pretty proud of himself for that and it’s all torn up because he wears it
a lot
. It really doesn’t even fit him anymore, but he still wears it on weekends. Jeez, I really didn’t expect that. I mean, I know exactly what he was doing by having you wear it in front of everyone, but he actually gave you one hell of a freaking souvenir!” Kate said, shaking her head in astonishment.

“Oh. I had no idea… Um, explain what you meant about marking his territory though, does everyone know how much he loves it or something? Because that might explain the looks going on back and forth between him and Pete. Oh and I wanted to know what you think about why his eyes change color,” I said kind of stunned. I don’t what to say about this…I really don’t.

“His eyes change color?”

I nodded. “Yeah, not from blue to brown or anything crazy like that, but different shades of blue…I saw them do it a few different times Saturday night and thought it might be the lighting but I really don’t think that’s it.”

“Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever really noticed that before...I mean I guess they tend to kinda sparkle when he’s in a good mood, but other than that, I haven’t seen a color change. Then again, I don’t spend a lot of time gazing into my boyfriend’s best friend’s eyes.”

“I totally get that. I, on the other hand, was definitely doing a lot of gazing.”

“I bet,” she said and giggled at me. “Anyway, back to the shirt…no, not everyone knows how attached he is to it, that’s kinda just something that people really close to him would know, like me, Jeff, probably Pete and maybe Mike, but it doesn’t really matter how many people know how much he loves it. The other very distinguishing feature of that shirt, which you neglected to mention in your description, is that it’s got his
name
written in bold lettering on it, which
everyone
would’ve seen.

“Regardless of
how
you came to be in it, everyone at that party saw you
with
him and
wearing
his freaking shirt! He’s not stupid, Camie, he knows how fast rumors spread in this school and if he wanted to keep quiet about being interested, then he would’ve given you the shirt he had in his car.”

That was a really funny shirt, too. It reads, “An awkward morning is better than a boring night.” I wonder if it’s a personal motto.

“Did you notice that he didn’t stay quite so close to you and even left a few times when you were at the fire pit?” She’s in almost as good a form as she was on my first day, don’t you think?

“Of course. I just thought he was going back to being his standoffish self though.”

Kate giggled for a moment and then said, “I’m not laughing at you Camie, honestly. It’s just that he’s really good at manipulation, that’s all. Instead of having you physically close to protect him, he let the fact that you were in what was obviously his clothing do the job, which freed him up to move around more. Plus, it meant he didn’t really need to worry about most of the guys there hitting on you while he wasn’t around.

“That’s what I think the silent communication between him and Pete was about too. They’re really pretty tight and Tristan wouldn’t worry about Pete or Mike at all, but some of the other guys, like Conner for example, might not have had the good sense to leave you alone in Tristan’s absence. Even though I wasn’t there to see it, I think he was telling Pete to look out for you for him. Man, when your cousin said he was a calculating opponent, he sure hit the nail on the head!”

“Huh. I remember thinking that Conner was being
kinda
flirtatious, but I really didn’t think anything of it. I just figured he’s like that and he was being friendly. Do you think that’s why Pete kept making him drink every time he sank a quarter?” I asked, feeling like maybe I wasn’t so bad at observing details as I’d originally thought.

“Probably. Conner’s really an okay guy, but his girlfriend just dumped him. After I got off the phone with Jeff, I overheard him talking about wanting to get trashed and then go after the first cute girl he saw, so if Pete could get Conner blitzed enough to pass out, then problem solved. Well…you know what all of this means, right?” Kate asked.

“Uh-uh, what?” I might be getting better at the observing part, but I still don’t know how to put any of it together.

“You could say Tristan’s decided to go somewhat public. He chose a slightly more selective venue to do it in, but word will still spread. I wonder how long it’ll be before he decides to let you in on it. I don’t want you to get your hopes up, because this could still take some time depending on the opportunities he’s presented with and how, or even
if
he chooses to take advantage of them.

“I wouldn’t expect him to show any interest whatsoever at school yet and that’s ultimately what we want. People are pretty used to him having minor escapades that aren’t at all serious, so a few parties won’t mean much and he might be more inclined to stake a claim out of the public eye. However, if he develops a
pattern
outside of school…well, that’s really the next best thing to checkmate so to speak. It won’t be exactly what we want, but it might be the best we can get. I don’t know if he’ll be willing to enter into an actual commitment,” Kate said in all truthfulness.

I know she’s worried about me slipping back into my “Bizarro Camie” persona, so I’m going to try really hard to adopt some patience…especially for Kate because I just adore her. “I hear the warning and I’m gonna try to not let the time thing bug me. I’m still just so tickled that he essentially told Teresa off the
way
he did. He was like my knight in shining armor. I didn’t have to do or say a thing…honestly Kate, I wish you would’ve been where you could’ve seen it.”

Giggling, we got out of her car and had barely made it out of the parking lot when the warning bell rang. We looked at each other and took off running. Apparently we’d completely lost track of the time and I now had a good-sized head start on getting my first tardy slip.

You know, let me just say something here; it’s not that easy to keep yourself positive and upbeat when circumstances conspire against you. Kate and I had to go to the office for our late slips and since I was already late and still needed to get my math book, I made a frenzied stop at my locker on the way to class. I was in such a hurry, though, I didn’t realize my locker had been painted recently. Really recently. I threw myself down on my chair in geometry and when I pulled my supplies out to put them on my desk, I noticed I had paint all over my hands and forearms. Yeah, and it gets better; my teacher passed out last week’s pop quizzes. You can imagine that I’m less than pleased with my C-grade.

It didn’t look like things were going to improve much as the day moved on either. Michele was absent which left no one for me to really talk to in class, and during the break, both Kate and Melissa were missing, too. As I suspected and even somewhat expected, there’s a new buzz floating around school that I’m pretty sure pertains to me, but of course, no one’s gonna actually
say
anything to me about it. And I couldn’t very well ask anyone in my classes because almost all the people I’ve been hanging around with are juniors and seniors, and aside from Michele and a few kids in P.E., I really don’t know many of the kids in the sophomore class yet.

Also, I’ve bestowed the title “Bane of My Existence” upon Teresa. During third period, which unfortunately I share with her, and the break right after that, Teresa spent most of her time talking about Tristan with her so very pedestrian grasp of the English language and at the same time, whispering about me behind my back to anyone who’d listen to her. I’m guessing she’s informing everyone she can get her claws on about my drink disaster Saturday night. I’m assuming that’s what she was doing because she’d cup her hands to cover her mouth and lean in close to a kid and then they’d both look at me and start laughing. Her look has become more nefarious than dirty now, too.

Anyhow, when I showed up to English, Tristan and Jeff were, of course, already there and occupying what I’ve now come to accept as their traditional cushions. Kate walked in seconds behind me and we both plopped down next to each other. She turned to say something to me and then frowned at my hair like it was offensive in some way.

“What?” Is what I actually said, but I was thinking something along the lines of “It’s not like you haven’t seen my hair before, Kate! What did it ever do to you? Jeez!”

She reached to touch a piece of my hair. “What
is
that?”

That had the guys turn their attention to our conversation and, naturally because it’s just been that kind of day for me, Tristan popped off with, “Jesus, every time I see you, you have some kind of shit in your hair.”

“
What?
” I asked a little offended and totally bewildered.

“It looks like paint. How the hell did you get
paint
in your hair?” Kate asked as she scratched at a strand, trying to get it out for me.

“Oh, you have
got
to be kidding me.” I pulled a piece of my hair in front of my eyes so I could see. Sure enough, there’s paint in my hair and it’s the exact same shade as my locker. “Well, that’s just swell. So, you know what? This means I’ve been walking around with paint in my hair
all damned day
! My locker was re-painted and I didn’t notice it was wet this morning because I was in such a hurry, remember? I got it all over my hands and arms too,” I explained while looking over my clothes to see if I’d missed any other embarrassing patches. Then something occurred to me. “
Aargh!
When are elections for the We Hate Teresa Club? Because I wanna run for freaking president!!”

Jeff’s eyes shot to Tristan and then back to me. “You think
Teresa
painted your locker?”

“No. She’s just been in rare form today and I thought she’d just been telling half the world about my volcanic ensemble Saturday night, but I was unaware I’d been providing more fodder for her insipid recreational sport,” I answered and then crossed my arms over my chest in a huff. Oh, just so you know, on Sunday I watched
Pretty In Pink
—from which I got that witty little dig on my shirt—and I was right…Tristan quoted Steff so my trifecta is indeed quantified.

“Why do you care what Teresa and a bunch of stupid sophomores think?” Jeff asked stupidly.

“
I’M
a sophomore, you
blithering
ninny
!!” I said angrily and scrambled across Kate to whack him upside the head a couple of times and punch his shoulder.

“
Ow!
Jesus, I forgot…I’m sorry. Man, you’re pretty strong for a girl.”

I smacked him a couple more times for that comment, meanwhile, both Kate and Tristan were cracking up at the hole Jeff was digging for himself. He really does mean well; it just doesn’t always come across the right way. After physically venting on Jeff, I sat back down on my pillow and decided to get over my irritation with his incentive remarks.

“I’m sorry. I have a
bit
of a temper and she’s been pushing it since my first day.”

Tristan broke from his laughter to say, “A
bit
? Remind me not to piss you off!” Then he started laughing again and while wiping at his tears, he looked at Jeff. “Sorry man, but that was damned funny!”

Kate, Melissa, and I spent lunch looking like monkeys. They had me seated on the stage a step below them while they scraped and scratched as much of the paint out of my hair as they could. Melissa hadn’t been at Mike’s party because she’d been obligated to help her parents with a formal dinner party they were hosting, but through the grapevine she’d heard about the punch being spilled on “some girl” and then also, about me wearing Tristan’s shirt. It’s interesting…there’s still a buzz going on with the upper classmen but it’s much more subtle. I’m not really sure why that is, but I’m kind of grateful I belong to this group rather than where my grade level would rightfully place me. The only problem I can see with that is; what am I gonna do when they all graduate and leave me behind?

The following day Michele was back in school and I learned something from her that
really
pissed me off. From what she said, Teresa
did
have something to do with why my locker had wet paint on it. Michele had overheard Teresa in the girls’ locker room pouting about how her vandalism was never seen by anyone else in school. Apparently, she and her two I’m with Stupid gal pals had snuck onto campus in the early hours of Monday morning and used permanent marker to write on my locker what I can only imagine were tasteless things about me. She’d been complaining that they shouldn’t have gone back home afterwards because then they could’ve just re-vandalized it before school started. Here’s where she’s lucky; I’m not about to get into some immature war with her even though I’ll applaud anyone else who beats her to the ground.

After English, I shared my new intelligence with Kate and Melissa on our way to lunch and they both had looks of disgust on their faces by the time I finished my tale. They consoled me by saying they hadn’t heard a peep about it, so chances are no one had seen what was written and the whole thing would most likely just blow over.

However, I was still fuming on Friday when I arrived at Derek’s school with my family for the football game my school was playing against his. My mom was feeling pretty good and wanted to go, so I decided to ride with them and then knowing I probably shouldn’t sit with Derek again, not only that, but it wouldn’t do me any good to be on the other side of the field, I figured I’d find one of my new safe acquaintances to sit with. We were just getting out of the car when the Trollop Triplets pulled up and parked several spaces away from us.

“Jill, that’s Teresa,” I whispered to my sister, to whom I’d confided my serious loathing of Teresa.

“Which one?” She asked, intently looking over the three girls.

“The one getting out of the passenger seat.”

“Is that…? No. Oh, for the love of God, that’s just crude…have at least
some
self-respect! Why does she think anyone needs to see she’s wearing a thong? What a serious waste of good lip-gloss,” Jillian ranted when her eyes picked up the unmistakable sight of a red lacey thong riding high above the waist of Teresa’s low-rise short-shorts, which also showed more of her butt cheeks than I’ll ever care to see. Her too short and too tight tank top didn’t help.