Shark Bait (The Grab Your Pole Series) (50 page)

Ugh. This is gonna be uber-uncomfortable, I just know it.

“Relax. It’d have to happen eventually. If it helps, they’ll be more afraid of you than you are of them,” he said, chuckling at his little joke that was meant to induce confidence.

“I find that extremely hard to believe, Tristan.”

“No, it’s true! Watch, they won’t know what the hell to do.”

“Why not?”

“Hi, remember me? The recently reformed promiscuous reprobate? Yeah, I’ve never brought a girl home except Kate, and well, she doesn’t count. Plus, the only time she’s ever been here without Jeff was when my parents babysat her and even then, he was almost always here too.”

Crap. That makes it even worse.

I started whimpering and dragging my feet.

“Want me to distract you before we go in?” He waggled his brows at me and gave me a teasing grin.

“NO! Are you kidding? I’m so not gonna meet either of your parents right after you kiss me! I’ll look like I’m on drugs!”

He laughed at me. “Not either. Both.”

“What?!”

“They’re both home. Come on, let’s get it over with…I promise you’ll be fine but, how much do ya wanna bet one or both of them starts drinking before we leave?”

Oh God, please help me not make a complete moronic fool out of myself.

He led me to the door and gave me a really quick kiss, which actually did calm my nerves. Well, not exactly calm them, but I
was
more relaxed when he took me into the house and into the sunk-in family room where sitting in separate, but really comfy looking chairs were his parents. Tristan’s dad was reading a newspaper and his mom was reading a book. I zeroed in on the title and saw that it was Homer’s
The Odyssey
. Okay, nothing to freak out about…it’s just a little light reading. NOT. I mean I’ve read it and I enjoyed it too, but it’s not exactly what normal people read to pass the time, you know?! Anyway, his parents both welcomed him home but neither of them looked up as he led me by the hand to the sofa and plopped down on it, pulling me with him as he put his arm around me.

“So, how was your day?” His dad asked and I noticed he wasn’t exactly “reading” the paper. He was doing the
New York Times
’ crossword…in freaking
ink
.

Well, that’s not intimidating at all either! And again I say
ugh
.

“Eventful,” Tristan answered with nonchalance.

“How so?” This came from his mom. It’s kind of funny, they have
no
idea I’m sitting here.

“Do you wanna tell ‘em or should I?” Tristan asked me as he stretched his legs out on the table in front of us, looking particularly amused—and smug.

“Why don’t you...” The sound of my voice totally got their attention though, and I have to give him credit here, Tristan did a splendid job of keeping his laughter at their shocked expressions from coming forth.

“So be it.”

Uh-oh. That doesn’t bode well… From how he said it, I immediately remembered that that’s a line from Jillian’s theme song “Don’t Tread On Me” and now I’m wondering if he’s finally going to get even for the teasing I’ve been doing today. I’ll kill him if he does…

“Well, first I made a spectacle of myself this morning, however I had an excellent reason and it paid off, so I ditched two classes and got a tattoo, and then two girls put their hand down my pants, separately of course…the first chick pissed me off, but the second one is welcome to visit any time.”

He’s not getting even, but I still think I would’ve been better off telling them. And he said all that like it could’ve been an everyday occurrence! Once again, ugh.

“Let’s see, what happened next? Oh yeah, I aced the test I took in trig, I missed an opportunity because I didn’t have gum so I bought some, then I asked to be hit, I presented one award and accepted a couple others for my behavior Saturday night, and then I invited the gossips to talk about why I’d been violating the school’s dress code all day. And finally, I won two hundred bucks. I think that’s it.

“Oh, I almost forgot…this is Camie. Actually, her name is Cameron but I tried it out once and it didn’t feel right, so, I prefer to use the cute nickname. And you guys probably won’t believe this, but it just so happens that the events of her day sorta acted as a catalyst to mine. Well, aside from the trig test that is.”

I couldn’t help it. I clapped.

Tristan said, “Thanks baby,” and then he beamed a not-so innocent smile at his parents who are still wide-eyed.

“Eventful indeed,” his mom said, having finally recovered from her shock of either having me in their house or his version of our day, I’m not sure which.

And now that I can see them without leaves obstructing my sight, I can totally see where Tristan gets his god-like build from and if Tristan’s body looks this good at his dad’s age and we’re still together, then I gotta say, WooHoo for me! He gets his drop-dead gorgeous good looks from his mom though. She’s
beautiful
. And he totally has her eyes.

“He gets his sense of humor and good taste from you my love,” his dad said and winked at his mom whose eyes are doing that sparkling thing that Tristan’s do.

“Ah, I’m so sorry. In my shock I’ve lost my manners…it’s such a pleasure to actually meet you, Camie.”

“You too, Mrs. Daniels.”

Tristan started laughing at his dad’s awkward expression and then with a rather mild Texan twang, his dad explained. “Darlin’, you gotta forgive us, his friends have been callin’ us Mom and Dad for so long that when we hear Mr. or Mrs. Daniels come outta a young person’s mouth, we automatically think of my parents. I’m Stan, that’s Trinity, but you call us whatever your pretty little heart desires.”

Aw, how sweet is that? My pretty little heart… I think I’m blushing.

“Really dear, we’re just glad he brought you home.”

“
He’s
sitting right here you know,” Tristan said blandly, but when I looked at him, his expression was still amused.

“Then
he
won’t mind tellin’ us ‘bout the two hundred bucks. How’d that happen?” His dad asked enthusiastically.

“Oh, there was a bet on whether this guy’s nose was broken in a fight at Mike’s party. Most people went with the safe odds but I knew for a fact it was.”

“How’d you know that?” His mom asked, fairly interested in the same way I was when I’d asked the same question earlier.

“I’m the one who broke it.”

“I just hope ya had a good reason,” his dad responded without any condemnation in his tone.

“I had excellent provocation plus, I won an award for doing it!”

“Tristan, what in the world did he do to make you want to hit him hard enough to break his nose?”

All of a sudden I became aware of the tension in Tristan’s body next to me and I could tell he wasn’t happy thinking about the answer to his mom’s question, so I thought I’d help him out.

“He put his hand on my butt and tried to kiss me.”

“Yep, that’ll do it,” his dad said, nodding his head in obvious approval.

“I would say so,” his mom said in understanding.

“Yeah, that made him really very unhappy,” I agreed with them.

“Okay, so on that note…if you two don’t mind, I’ll catch you up on everything else later. Camie hasn’t seen Phineas and Ferb in over a week and they miss her.”

With that abrupt statement, Tristan pulled me to my feet, tossed the basketball to me, grabbed the collage and then led me up to his room.

When he opened his door he called out, “Mom’s home!”

Upon hearing his voice, our two little bundles of fur materialized from under his bed and came running. Grinning, I dropped to ground and cuddled them both as they climbed on me and began to purr. I almost forgot how completely adorable they are.

“My parents said I can keep them, so we can pack them up and I can bring them home with me when you take me.”

“Well, I was thinking about that, Camie…I’m pretty attached to the little buggers.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t expecting that. I guess he can keep them…it’s not like they wouldn’t be cared for here or anything; it’s just that they’ve grown so much over the last week and I missed it.

Tristan was watching me play with them and I think he could tell I was disappointed with the idea of not getting to see them all the time. “I might have a solution though if you’re game…wanna hear it?”

“Tristan, we can’t split ‘em up.” I’m thinking that would really be the only way for him and me both to have them and that’s just not gonna happen. No way am I going to separate them after all they’ve been through. I’d rather he just keep them.

“Oh God, I wouldn’t dream of splitting ‘em up! I was thinking of shared custody.”

“Shared custody?” Huh. I never even thought about that.

We talked about that option for all of thirty seconds; decided it could work and then we came up with a rotation schedule while Tristan affixed a piece of paper over the picture in the collage of Pete in mid-slurp on which he’d written:

By Penalty of Death,

Do Not Remove.

EVER.

Then he hung the collage on the wall next to his bed. The schedule we agreed on says that I’ll have the kitties one week, he’ll have them the next and so on. That way they won’t get used to being at one house for too long and since they’ve already been here for a week, it’s my turn to have them. We also decided that in the future, we’ll do the swapping on Saturdays or Sundays.

From what Tristan says, Phineas and Ferb eat like they’re starving all the time so it wasn’t just that first night, but after having played with them long enough for them to get hungry and actually watching them scarf their food again, I’m starting to wonder how much these cutie-critters are gonna eat out of my car fund. Really, I don’t have a clue where they put it all. When they were done eating though, we packed up about half of their stuff and went to my house.

Oh and he was right by the way. I had to keep myself from giggling when we said goodbye to his parents because on our way out, Tristan jerked his chin in their direction, indicating that I take note of the fact that his dad was drinking a beer and his mom was holding a glass of what looked like champagne. All in all, the awkwardness I’d expected never really made an appearance and I feel like his mom and dad actually really like me, so I’m calling it a huge victory. After my unexpected meeting of his parents though, I was thinking Tristan might be a little concerned about having to meet mine. After all, my dad has already threatened Tristan’s life, you know? I waited until he pulled up to my house and then I warned him.

“Okay, fair’s fair…you have to meet my parents.”

“I’m not worried. Parents love me.” He gave me a cocky grin and turned the car off.

“And I’m gonna have to tell ‘em about the age difference.” I stifled my own amusement at his obvious discomfort about that.

“Maybe you can tell ‘em about that when I’m not here…”

“I could, but that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun. Come on, you big chicken…”

“Easy for you to say…my parents weren’t cleaning hand guns.”

I laughed about that but was thinking to myself that
his
parents were engaged in some intellectually intimidating activities instead. Apparently the rule about brains and/or good looks skipping a generation doesn’t apply to Tristan’s family.

We walked in the house to find Jillian sprawled on the couch with her back to us watching
John Tucker Must Die
.

Noticing what she was watching, Tristan said, “Hey Jillian. I see you’re brushing up on vengeance plots.” At least he gets it.

Without turning her head to look at him or give him a single word of hello, she raised her hand backwards to give Tristan a high-five.

“Where’re Mom and Dad?”

“Dad went in late so he’s not home yet, mom’s in the kitchen, and our new phones came in today…yours is on the kitchen table.”

Hmm, I wasn’t thinking I’d have to go through the introduction twice, not to mention informing them of the age discrepancy twice. That bites. I don’t think they’ll
really
freak out, like not allow me to see him or anything, but they might shorten my leash quite a bit, which would fairly well stink, in my humble opinion.

“Okay well, we’re gonna get Phineas and Ferb settled in my room and then I guess go into the first wave of battle.” I probably should’ve phrased it better because Tristan shot me a look like I’d robbed him of the chance to have worn armor.

“You gonna tell ‘em?” Jill still hasn’t taken her eyes from the TV but I know exactly what she’s asking.

“Yeah. It’s time to git-r-done.”

She finally consented to tip her head back, but she was looking at Tristan when she said, “Chill-ax. Legally all they can get you on is contributing to the delinquency of a minor and there’s no jail time with that.”

Fabulous. Thanks Sis…

I looked at Tristan’s face. He was slowly nodding in agreement and looking somewhat contemplative when he said, “True. I get to worry about that in February.”

“What are you two going on about?” I thought she was just giving him a hard time but they’re both being more or less serious.

“California State Law regarding age of consent,” my sister answered matter-of-factly, having gone back to watching the movie she’s seen like seventeen times.

“How do you know this?” I was asking Jillian primarily so I was hard pressed not to laugh when she and Tristan answered in unison.

“I looked it up.”

“When?!” This time I was mostly interested in hearing from Tristan.

“The night of your first day of school after I found out you were fifteen.”

“Same here.”

Her admission doesn’t surprise me…she did tell me she’d have my back regardless, but his kind of did. Then again, it probably shouldn’t have. I have a feeling Tristan is the kind of person who does his homework.

I rolled my eyes at them and said, “Whatever. I just kinda wanted to tell them together. I don’t really relish the idea of going through it twice.”

Sighing in resignation, I headed up to my room with a kitten supply laden Tristan following close behind me as if I were a shield.

“Do you think I can pass for sixteen?”

I laughed. “I doubt you passed for sixteen when you
were
sixteen.”