Shark Out of Water (Grab Your Pole, #3) (44 page)

Anyway, like I was saying, I told him everything. I didn’t mean to, but somewhere during a game of Eight Ball in between him telling me what Thanksgiving weekend and participating in that photo shoot really did to him and what a fucktard he was for breaking up with Melissa, and me explaining more fully for him why I never pushed it with Camie to get her to sleep with me when I could’ve easily, I did and when I was done spewing my vile tale to Brandon, I could feel my chest expand just slightly more than it had in weeks.

He didn’t say anything about what I’d shamefully admitted and he didn’t need to. He just nodded his head in perfect understanding. You see, Brandon and I are as likeminded on this as two people can be. He gets it. You don’t take advantage of girls regardless of their age, behavior, and their personal self-respect or lack of it, and you definitely
never ever
under
any
circumstances abuse them physically. My ignominious behavior that night is one of every guy’s worst nightmares, or, every guy like us that is. Completely losing control of yourself and abusing a girl, whether she knows she’s being abused or not. In a way what I did was worse because Camie and I loved each other and when I told him, Brandon automatically put himself in that situation and from a distance, he felt the pure hatred he would have for himself if he’d done that to Melissa.

I don’t think I could’ve chosen a better person to lay it all out there for. Brandon did exactly what I did for him a few nights ago, which is what I needed from him, and that was just listening without judgment and then opening up to me in return as a show of good faith. When the pool hall closed for the night, he and I went back to his house and I learned a little more about him and how he grew up, which is essentially a teenage guy’s wet dream of how to grow up…until they actually live it and realize being allowed to do whatever the fuck you want whenever the fuck you wanna do it and with whoever the fuck you wanna do it with without being held accountable to a single living soul isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.

That night back in November when he said his dad never got over his mom leaving, he wasn’t kidding. His dad is a general manager for a large chain of hotels and also happens to have a massive drinking problem. He’s rarely home and when he is, he’s usually passed out or well on his way to being passed out. Brandon has three brothers, the oldest of whom, with little real help from their father, raised his younger siblings the best way a fourteen-year-old could, but he eventually moved out and left everything up to the next oldest and so on. Now that it’s just Brandon and his dad, the bills get paid because Brandon inherited access to his dad’s bank account from one of the brothers, Charlie, who hacked into it so all the bills can be paid on line. He has clean clothes because he does all his own laundry, and the only reason there’s anything aside from booze and beer in the fridge is because Brandon does the grocery shopping. All like he was taught to do by his brothers before him. And that’s pretty much how it’s been since he was a little kid of five.

As we were sitting on the couch, eating carne asada nachos at three in the morning, I asked him, “You ever get pissed off at either of them?”

He rocked his head from side to side a little, considering the question, and said, “Mmm, not anymore…Matt, my oldest brother, he used to get
really
pissed off at my mom though. He’d throw things and yell and scream about what a bitch she was for leaving us with my dad, but I never felt that way about her and he eventually stopped cussing her out in front of me when Jaden told him I was up on the roof refusing to come down until he apologized,” he chuckled and shook his head, thinking about the memory, “I was like eight or something and Matty was goin’ off because my dad was visiting a hotel in San Francisco and had forgotten to mention he’d lost his wallet and that he’d cancelled all the cards, so when Matt went shopping and the debit card was declined, he had to come home empty handed. He was pissed at my dad of course, but he was more pissed at my mom…he was jealous, you know? He wanted to be with her instead of our dad. We all did…

“Anyway, I started crying like I always did when he’d go off and then I protested on the roof…Jaden, he was the peace maker, he tried to talk me into coming down, but I wanted Matty to apologize to me
and
to Mom. The fucker let me sleep up there for two nights before he finally came up, handed me a donut and apologized to both of us. That’s when Charlie hacked my dad’s bank account and created a separate account for us to use for house stuff, and then he forged my dad’s signature on the direct deposit paperwork. And I guess I used to get mad at my dad for bein’ so weak and not taking care of us, but, it didn’t do anything, you know? It was a giant waste of time and energy so I stopped getting mad and decided to just live my life for me.”

He went on to explain that it was actually his third oldest brother, Jaden, who got him into music and encouraged him. They had a piano in the house and every time Brandon would start to get upset when the brothers would fight or their dad would come home falling-down-drunk, Jaden would plunk him down on the bench and tell Brandon to play anything so he could drown out the bullshit. From what he said, he has a natural ear and can pretty much play any instrument someone hands him, and when Jaden recognized his little brother’s rare ability, he went to Matt and talked him into putting Brandon in music classes where he learned how to read and write music, and he eventually developed a deep love for something that initially began as a convenient way to keep himself from crying about his shitty childhood.

Sunday afternoon we went to Jaden’s to watch the Superbowl game and when it occurred to me that all the brothers and their friends were there, getting along and having a great time, bar one, I was told a little more. Charlie had essentially been ostracized from the family when he refused to accept Jaden’s alternative lifestyle choice. You see, he’s gay. When Jaden came out, it created a fissure the size of the Grand Canyon between Charlie and Matt. Jaden, who I guess has always been Matt’s favorite brother, didn’t care that Charlie couldn’t accept him, but Matt did and in a proclamation similar to Brandon’s roof protest, he told Charlie that if he wanted to be a member of their family, he’d have to apologize both verbally and in writing. He said that brothers love and accept each other for who they are. Period. You don’t have to like it, but you do have to accept it and respect the choices they make in their lives to be happy, and after all the four of them had been through, he should know that better than anyone.

Anyhow, it was fascinating to me as an only child with both parental units present in my life to observe such a completely different family dynamic. It was also very beneficial in distracting me from the steaming pile of shit I’d recently heaped on top of my already odiferous love life. Over the duration of the time I spent with Brandon, he didn’t try to impose his views or advice on me, which I appreciated because I hadn’t asked, but when he and I went our separate ways and mocking myself, I mentioned again the blue flames of Hell, he said one thing that he knew would be hard for me to hear and even harder for me to do.

“Find forgiveness, bro, and then flush this shit. You need to if you ever wanna shake the demons and breathe again.”

You know, it really kinda sucks when you can honestly say the analogy of your life being a toilet bowl is disturbingly accurate, don’t you think?

Chapter Nineteen
 

Thursday, Week Four

Stalemate, Day Four ~ Tristan

Thursday was the same as the all the rest since I’d gone one better in fucking up the lives of my baby and myself. The only difference between Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and today was who approached whom between Camie and me. She’d been the one to come to me on Monday. She begged me to tell her what was going on, why I’d let her believe I’d broken up with her this whole time, etc. I, in turn, refused to tell her on the grounds that it would hurt her more if she knew and I wasn’t gonna do that to her. Then it was my turn to beg. I pleaded with her for understanding on that, appealed to her heart to take me back, and flat out beseeched her to not go to the dance with that guy. Regardless of who initiated and the location or time they took place, our supplications to each other always ended the same way. In a stalemate. With me telling her I wouldn’t explain why I’d done what I had and her telling me she couldn’t give me anything I was asking of her without the truth.

Oh yeah, they also always ended with her in tears and me swearing or hitting something while fighting back my own tears as she walked away.

Another unpleasant factor was that Camie and I would make our highly emotional bids to each other at school. Usually right after school, but sometimes at lunch or during the break, and sometimes, like today, we’d make it a hat trick with all three in one day. Those latter ones could be said to be the hardest because we still had the rest of the day to get through, but for me, the hardest encounters were the ones that took place after school. I mean every time she walked away I was left bleeding, but the times after school…well, they were the ones that made my chest feel like it was a bleeding geyser. They were the ones where we argued our cases orally as well as physically. Don’t misunderstand what I mean by that; there was never anything violent or sexual…we were both just finally listening to our instincts. It would typically start after we’d reached the end of that incident’s entreaties; she’d start crying and I would pull her to me just so I could hold her, but once or twice she just walked straight into my arms before we said a word to each other and
then
she’d start crying and begging. Or, I would.

Everyone had been watching us too. And I do mean everyone. I guess I can’t really blame them though, seeing as how this had been goin’ on for days right in front of them. It’s still fucking irritating though to realize the heart wrenching drama in your life is serving as a kind of entertainment for others who don’t really know what it feels like to live it. However, watching aside, no one tried to listen in and no one asked any questions. Everyone was staying out of it. They gave us the most privacy they could and just watched from a distance. Even Jeff and Kate, which is kind of surprising. Not once did Jeff try to corner me into hearing his thoughts or force me to talk about it, or, anything else for that matter. Shit, I’m still not even sure what to make of that…all I can think is that I must be doing a really stellar job of wearing my agony for all to see so there’s no reason for me to say anything about it. All he’d do after letting me vent out my torment in whatever way I’d chosen that particular time is clap me on the shoulder and walk with me in silence to class or the parking lot, or wherever. Pete was just as silent, but, it was harder for him. Our link has been giving me flashes from him so I know we’re getting close. But that also means he’s getting flashes from me as well and right now, I just don’t have the emotional strength and stamina to block him in order to keep him safe from this shit. Even Jillian was somewhat affected. I caught a glimpse or two of her heart again each time Camie and I faced each other after school. I would be holding Camie as she cried in my arms and Jillian would watch for only a moment, and then, shaking her head morosely, she’d just walk away. Although one time, I saw her wipe something off her cheek before she passed out of sight to meld with the rest of the student body.

The only thing about Thursday that was markedly different is that someone chose to cross over from simply watching. She approached me after school, right after one of the harder times while I was desperately trying to not show the world that I was completely broken and crying inside. She must’ve watched the whole scene between Camie and me too and when Camie disappeared into the locker room to change, she crossed the invisible line.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“What?!”
I hollered as I whirled around in surprise to see her standing there with her hands on her hips, completely pissed.

“Your problem, Tristan, what is your problem?” She asked with more compassion this time.

“Well, gee whiz, Melissa, I appreciate you pretending to not already know and all, but I’m gonna tell you to blow me and then to fuck off just the same,” I spit at her in anger and turned to go into the locker room where I could cut the fucking shit out of my knuckles again by punching my already dinged and dented metal locker.

I was stunned when she grabbed me by the arm and then slapped me across the face, yelling,
“Knock it off!!”

“W—what the FUCK?!”

“Don’t you dare walk away from me, Tristan! I’m sick and tired of seeing you do this to yourself!
And
her!”

“You gonna go hit her too?!”

“No, because she’s not the one who needs help, Tristan, you do!”

“Oh, you think
you
can help me?”

“Yes. I do.”

“You don’t know shit about it, so back the fuck off.”

“Oh yes I do! And I’m done watching you
kill
yourself everyday because you’re too stubborn to realize that’s what you’re doing!”

That’s what did it. What made me stop for a second and decide to actually hear the words she was saying. “What do you think know, Melissa? Tell me why you think out of everyone on the planet you’re the one who knows what I’m going through.”

She sighed and with eyes shining from unshed tears she said, “Tristan, I’m not gonna pretend to know what you’re going through with Camie, but, I know a little about the guilt you’re dealing with…and I remember
you
were the only one who recognized what it was gonna do to me, and out of all my friends,
you
were the only one who would’ve stepped up and not let me go on living with it. You can be pissed off at me for the rest of our lives for this, but I’m stepping up just like you would’ve done for me.”

“So what’s your plan, Melissa? How are you gonna fix me? Because I’ll be perfectly honest here, I’m
really
fucking broken and even if you had all the king’s horses and all the king’s men, I don’t think you’ve got what it takes to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.”