Read Shark Bait (The Grab Your Pole Series) Online
Authors: Jenn Cooksey
Kate caught up to Jeff to tell him we were leaving and when Tristan overheard, he turned back to me and with twinkling eyes and an unmistakable playfulness, he confirmed our date by saying, “So don’t forget to put me down for epic failure and a complete lack of success on Friday…say about six, okay?”
I couldn’t help it; I rolled my eyes and just gave him a sarcastic thumbs up. Actually, the eye roll was more for me because although I’m sure if I’d agreed, he’d no doubt have gone through with his prior teasing proposal, and I now think that’s exactly what it was. He’d been playing with me and I totally fell for it. And not that I really mind, but it seems we’ve set a precedent with this kind of teasing so I guess I should try to learn when to take him seriously and when to laugh him off.
I climbed in bed that night feeling overwhelming relief about having made it through what I thought was sure to be a disaster of epic proportions. I listened to the playlist I’d made of the songs Tristan and I kissed to on Saturday and instead of crying like this morning when I’d listened to it, I found myself unable to wipe the smile from my face, thinking about what our date on Friday would be like. When the last of the four songs started playing—the one by Limp Bizkit—I snuggled down even further into my pillow and with a sigh, I fell asleep, congratulating myself on having built a bridge with Tristan, even though the situation didn’t quite fall apart and my heart wasn’t broken like the song says.
Little did I know it though, I wasn’t quite done living out the lyrics to that particular song, or, as it would turn out, several other songs as well…
13.
The Worst Sort Of Vengeance
My morning at school was weird. All the kids in my classes, including Michele, were giving me odd looks. After last week, I kept wondering if I had something in my hair again but each time I checked a mirror, my hair was fine. I mean, Teresa was her usual self—running her mouth behind her hand—but the only thing she has on me this time is my atrocious appearance on Saturday night. And honestly, I really don’t care if she tells the entire world I was at a beach party in mismatched and ill fitting clothing.
English gave me a much-appreciated break from having my wardrobe critiqued, though, and as a bonus, Tristan and Jeff abandoned showing up early to class so, Tristan and I actually sat next to each other. Plus, instead of directing most of his conversation to Jeff, Tristan included Kate and me in it, which just adds to my relief of last night. Of course there was no real direct communication at lunch, but he didn’t bolt when I walked up to talk to Kristen, which was where he was standing with Mike. That was also when I found out that Conner hadn’t needed to go to the hospital.
I guess once Conner’s wound got cleaned, it wasn’t found to be deep enough to warrant stitches and the burn wasn’t a big deal either. From the way it sounded, I’m guessing Kate over-reacted. Either that or she just gets queasy at the sight of a little blood, which I can understand. I mean I don’t get sick watching horror movies or anything, but real-life blood and gore is different for some reason. Oh, during that conversation I also found out that Tristan had agreed to talk to Conner’s ex for him. Apparently she’s the girl I’d overheard breaking up with her boyfriend over the phone; her friends sound just as shallow now as did they did then. Get this, they think Conner is beneath them simply because he comes from a single parent household and has to work to help out with the family’s finances, plus, he doesn’t have his own car. I mean really, this is exactly the kind of stuff that makes you ashamed to be a member of the human race.
Anyhow, that pretty much sums up my Tuesday. I know, it’s not much in the way of excitement but what do you expect, I’m in high school. Besides, it was a Tuesday for crying out loud. I mean, does anything noteworthy ever really happen on Tuesdays?
Wednesday however…well, Wednesday brought some drama, as they are wont to do at times. I got to school and once I’d taken my seat in geometry, I immediately knew something was up. No one said anything but it was totally obvious. And I knew I was at the center of whatever was going on when the looks I’d been getting yesterday became increasingly more plentiful, and, more odious as the morning wore on.
Fed up, I cornered Michele after our fourth period class and asked her point blank what was going on. “Okay,
what
is going on? You and everyone else are acting really weird.”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know, Camie,” she snapped.
“Pretend like I don’t know what?! If I knew what was going on, why would I need to ask? I mean, did I screw up the bell curve or something?” I asked, totally not getting why she’s behaving like this.
“Fine, let me ask you something then…what happened at that party when you got that drink spilled all over you?” She asked stiffly.
I’m getting the really suspicious feeling that Michele is waiting to pass judgment on me about something, but I’ve no idea what for. I mean no one aside from a few toddlers and their moms, Tristan, Kate, and apparently Pete know about what happened yesterday. But even if everyone knew, that really doesn’t explain these repellent attitudes towards me.
“Umm, I got a pitcher of red booze poured all over me, I learned to play Quarters, and that’s pretty much it. Oh, Tristan Daniels gave me one of his shirts to wear because mine was totally drenched and later he drove me home because my ride had been drinking,” I explained, giving as many details as I could remember that might have some bearing on this.
“And the party this past Friday?”
“Uh, let’s see…I played Quarters for a little bit, got shoved in the pool…good thing I was already wearing my bathing suit, which the punch fiasco had inspired me to do, and umm…I sat in the hot tub with Kate and a bunch of other people.” Jeez, this feels like the freaking Spanish Inquisition. Not that I was there to know what that felt like, but I’m just sayin’...I imagine it was rather uncomfortable for those being grilled.
“That’s it? That’s the truth? Nothing else happened?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Oh, well I’ll tell you but
please
don’t tell anyone else, I’d be really embarrassed about it…I sorta threw up on someone’s dog at the party Friday night,” I admitted, thinking maybe that’s what this is all about.
She laughed about that, apologized for acting so strange, and then explained why she and half the school had been staring at me for almost two days.
After hearing what Michele had to say, I was not only mortally offended and shocked, but I was fucking pissed off. I know, the swearing…but trust me; it’s definitely a good time for an expletive. Additionally, I ended up being late to English. I was too mad to say anything when all three, Kate, Jeff, and Tristan looked at me as if to ask “what the hell is wrong with you?” and I was only able to stammer out a partial to Melissa and Kate after class when everyone had left the building for lunch.
“Okay,
what
is wrong with you? You look like you’re ready to commit murder,” Kate asked me with concern.
“I am. Teresa is a walking corpse! Are you ready for this? Apparently I’m a skanky whore!” I spit out venomously.
“Oh my God. Are you saying that rumor I heard this morning is being said about
you
?” Melissa asked aghast, obviously having only heard one rumor of this kind lately.
“Yeah, I am. And since you’ve already heard it, I’m sure the rest of the school has too,” I said, fuming.
You see, since I didn’t do anything embarrassing enough on my own, Teresa decided to fabricate the worst sort of vengeance. She’s telling everyone that I not only slept with a random guy at Mike’s party, but
three
of them, and then essentially the same thing occurred during Friday night’s party at Pete’s. Which she wasn’t even at!
“Eh, maybe…but there wasn’t a name attached to the girl I heard it about. And you know what? That’s good. That means specifics are being lost in translation, like in the game Telephone. Also, we can take care of it really easily even if your name does get put with it…at least in our clique. Besides, everyone who was at those parties knows where you were and who you were with the whole time. No one in our circle will perpetuate the lie,” Melissa stated with the confidence of a leader, cheer or otherwise.
“That’s not entirely true you know. I was out of public sight when Tristan dragged me to the bathroom to get me cleaned up. Even though he wasn’t one of the guys I supposedly slept with, everyone saw me with him while he was without a shirt and that was right after we were without the benefit of witnesses.”
“No, people were there too…remember you told me about the group getting high in Mike’s parents’ room? Did Tristan close the bathroom door?” Kate asked.
“Uh, no, he didn’t…it was wide open. Do you think it’ll matter?”
I’m only semi-relieved that I have at least someone who can account for my whereabouts during every minute of every party, though. The reason behind the necessity of having those people
really
freaking pisses me off. So much so that this whole time, I’ve been fighting back angry tears.
“Honestly, I don’t think much of it’ll matter…we can nip this in the bud as far as the upper-classes go and ultimately, it’ll trickle back down to sophomores and freshman,” Melissa said reassuringly.
I hope she’s right, because from what I understand; this sort of thing is near impossible to live down regardless of how farfetched and untrue it is.
“Besides, Camie, do you honestly think Tristan and Jeff are gonna let something like this go when they hear about it? I can guarantee you they’ll squash this rumor like a big, fat bug…guys talk about loose girls more than we do and if need be, they’ll have the entire boys’ locker room willing to testify to your innocence in court by the end of the school day.”
“And Keith will back ‘em up, which conveniently puts the football program on your side. That includes the JV team too, so with that and the mixed grade locker room, there’s our trickle down point,” Melissa chimed in, offering her boyfriend’s unwavering support.
“Do we have to tell them? Tristan and Jeff, I mean. This is bad enough without having to endure looks from Tristan too,” I complained.
I may do a lot of unwarranted whining, but this is justified. I mean it’s like freaking Karma. Even though we cleared everything up on Monday, I can practically hear Tristan laughing about how what goes around comes around. Not only that, but I’m afraid that after some of my possibly ill-advised teasing the other night combines with this whole thing, he might think I was being partly serious.
“Mmm…I really think it’d be a good idea. They’re bound to hear it eventually if they haven’t already and the sooner the guys know it’s about you, the sooner they’ll wanna stop it,” Kate answered.
“I concur. We should get started during lunch so let’s get a move on. I mean we can always text, but it’s better to do this kind of damage control face-to-face in groups,” Melissa determined.
So with that pronouncement, we left the English building to wage war against a lie. Well, Kate and Melissa did anyway; I decided to hide in the library. It was as uneventful a thirty minutes as I could’ve asked for. Although on my way to P.E., my phone started vibrating and I immediately started to panic thinking about my mom. When I pulled it out and checked the caller ID though, my stomach started to flop around for an entirely different reason; the name on the screen was Thumper. You know, because I’m twitter-pated like in
Bambi
. Yeah, I know. Not the best I could come up with, but I think it’s cute. Besides, I really like how being twitter-pated describes young love…it’s just
so
accurate for how teenagers act. Anyway, here’s what the text said:
Tristan:
avoiding enemies or hiding?
Ah, so he knows it was Teresa throwing another punch at me…that’s good, isn’t it? I was about to reply but then I thought about what Kate said the other day and decided to hold off for a bit. I don’t want to appear overly anxious, right? I mean technically I’m not playing hard to get. Seriously, how can I? He’s already got me. And if I’m being totally honest, he had me at “Hey Paul, you forgot this back there.” But even so, I do need to curb my enthusiasm a little to keep him on the hook. At least that’s what I’m assuming Kate was saying. I waited until P.E. was over and replied after I changed from my gym clothes into my dance clothes. Neither Kate nor Melissa had made it to the locker room yet so I was on my own. Since the other piece of advice Kate had given me was to be myself, I decided to go with the truth and said:
Me:
hiding
Although after I sent it, I wondered if it would be like an admittance of guilt about what was being said. Crap. It’s too late though. It’s not like I can re-text and say something like, “Oh no, I’m not hiding, I’m umm, sparing Teresa’s life…yeah, that’s it.” So with that concern in mind, I practically tackled Kate and Melissa when they got to the locker room in my anxiety over what they thought.
“You have to tell me I didn’t just totally shoot myself in the foot!! Here, look at this!” I shoved my phone in their faces for them to read the messages. “Did I screw up?”
They laughed and told me not to worry. Even
if
someone would’ve taken it that way, it certainly wouldn’t be Tristan. In fact, they said he’d been royally pissed when they told the large majority of people in our group of friends that the rumor about the slutty girl is meant to be about me. And apparently he wasn’t the only one. Walking down to the dance room, I got two texts in a row. Here’s what the first said:
MaryAnn:
camie i just started going out w/your cuz derek. i want u 2 know im going 2 give mark a warning 2 relay 2 his bitch sister. this will b over soon!
Aw, that’s so sweet! My cousin’s new girlfriend is going to bat for me and we hardly even know each other. I should mention that this is a big bat too, because MaryAnn is the Senior Class President and happens to be the captain of Varsity Cheer. Anyhow, this is what the second text said:
Tristan:
chicken
I giggled about that one and showed Kate and Melissa so they could laugh with me. I find it interesting that he replied relatively quickly after my response, don’t you? I’m still going to wait until after class is over before I reply though. I think I’ll opt out of standing around afterwards, too. I
of course
want to see him, but my mom always says absence makes the heart grow fonder, so, we’ll see if she’s right or just repeating an antiquated adage that isn’t applicable to today’s youth.