Shark Out of Water (Grab Your Pole, #3) (42 page)

Keeping tight to the wall, Tristan was moving away before I even had a chance to get a good look at his expression so, again, I blindly stumbled after him back up the aisle and into the row directly behind Camie and the guy who Jeff refers to as the Douche, who Brandon had said was Bad News, and who Tristan wanted to put in the ground last night.

As Tristan, silent as a specter, moved down the row, he turned to me with his finger raised to his lips, telling me to not make a sound, and then he sat down in the seat right behind Camie. I followed suit, shaking my head as I did, and claimed the seat next to him, the one behind the schmuck who Camie’s obviously using so she can go to the dance. At least that’s what I think. I don’t think she’s interested in this guy in the slightest and from the sound of it, Camie, Kenny and Dolly agree with me. It didn’t appear that Tristan does though. He was
beyond
fuming. To the point I started to wonder if the theater’s emergency fire sprinklers would spontaneously come on and drench us. And no, I wasn’t even
remotely
tempted to see what was going on in his head.

The guy—for the life of me I can’t remember what Brandon said his name is—was telling Camie she should turn her phone off before the movie starts and she’d begun explaining why she can’t turn it off all the way when the guy sniffed the air in a slightly different way than Tristan had earlier and sounding a little grossed out maybe, he cut her off like she hadn’t even been talking.

“
Ew
, do you smell that? It smells like bleach…I bet soda spilled in this row earlier and that’s what they used to clean it with.”

“Um, I don’t smell blea—” Camie said and was interrupted by the guy again. I looked over at Tristan who’d never put his phone away from when he’d called her and saw he’d just hit send on a text to Camie that asked: How was dinner? Did your date like your lasagna?

“No, I know what it is…it’s
chlorine
…I can’t
stand
the smell of chlorine…”

“Oh, that I can smell, but, I uh, like i—”

“It reminds me of summer camp when I was a kid and would get the shit burned out of my eyes in the stupid pool…I fucking
hate
chlor—” This time it was the guy who was interrupted when Camie’s cell phone went off again, sans Kenny and Dolly. “Are you kidding me? Is that him
again
? Jesus, dude, obsess much?”

Camie held up her phone and although I couldn’t see her face when she read the text, I knew she’d frozen and had momentarily stopped breathing. She typed a reply, waited, and when Tristan’s phone started playing the Chili’s baby back ribs jingle—you know the one I mean…it goes;
I want my baby back baby back baby back baby back
… Yeah, that one. It’s catchy and I’m probably gonna have it stuck in my head now for the rest of the damned night… Anyway, when Camie heard it right behind her, she took a deep breath, raised her head in preparation to take whatever was coming head on, and ever so slowly she turned around. And what she met with was a terrifying scowl filled with more contempt and disgust than Tristan has ever shown her, even when he thought she was screwing around with Zack last October.

The generator picked that time to kick on and Camie and I both saw Tristan roll his eyes and shake his head just barely before standing up to leave the theater. Camie swore under her breath, stood up and grabbed her jacket and then went to follow him. She was stopped by the schmuck though, who grabbed her arm and said, “Don’t go
after
him.”

“I’m sorry, I
have
to,” Camie said compassionately but irritated all the same, but I wasn’t sure
who
, exactly, she was irritated with; the schmuck, Tristan, or, herself…

He let her arm go and as she left the theater, I stood up and asked, “You coming or not?”

He looked at me, rolled his eyes, and standing up with both his drink and the popcorn Camie had handed him; he made his way down the row.

“Hey, did Camie order that popcorn?” I asked as we walked down the aisle towards the exit.

“Yeah.”

“Cool, can I have it? She takes her popcorn the same way I do and the concession kid messed mine up,” he held the popcorn out for me to take, not caring even a little that he’s heading out to a war zone in which there’s a good chance blood will be spilled and that it’ll probably be his. Then it occurred to me that maybe he doesn’t even know what he’s gotten himself into here, so, I told him. And it wasn’t because I like the guy or even feel bad for him, but because my catcher has spent
years
mentally screwing with batters for me, I figured I’d take this opportunity to do the same for him. “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Scott.”

“Right, Scott... So ah, Scott, you don’t happen to have chainmail on under your clothes, do you?” He just gave me a WTF are you talking about look. “Well that’s too bad…I’ve got a full suit of armor I won on eBay that I could loan you, but, it’s in my truck and the big guy you really fucking pissed off drove me here…”

He cracked a half-grin and kinda chuckled at me like he thought I was joking, which I’m totally not, but he sobered up real quick when we got to the lobby and saw Tristan barely containing himself, pacing the sidewalk out front like a caged wild animal, and Camie about to push through the double doors to face down his rage with a temper all her own; like the wrath of wind and rain, both of them forces to be reckoned with, the most destruction being done when they’re reckoning with each other.

I started jogging to catch up and said over my shoulder to Scott who’d followed my lead, “When we get out there, keep in mind that she can handle herself and regardless of what it looks or sounds like, she won’t ever be in actual physical danger, so my advice to you is, pretend you’re invisible. Don’t make eye contact, don’t say a word, and definitely don’t touch her…he’ll kill you. Oh and try not to get any on ya. Blood’s a bitch of a stain to get out…”

We got through the doors seconds after Camie had and right when Tristan rounded on her like a mythological fury.
“You’re fucking DATING?!!?”

She came right back at him, but because she was sorta coming late to the party, she hadn’t reached a toxic level of emotion…yet. “NO! I’m not
dating
! He’s just a frien—”

“BULLSHIT, Camie!
That
, in there, is a fucking date in anyone’s mother fucking handbook and you
fucking
KNOW IT!!”

“Oh would
please
give me just a
small
freaking break, Tristan?! Scott
is
ju—”

“Oh, he has a name n—”

“YES! And he’s just a friend but so what if he wasn’t?!
What
I do and
who
I do it with does
NOT
concern you anymore, re
member
?!! YOU, Tristan, YOU made that choice, NOT me!!”

Tristan caught fire when Camie threw that slightly inaccurate reminder in his face and he incinerated her with his eyes before he started to advance on her. Camie held her ground, but the schmuck, well; he chose to forget everything I’d very recently told him in an honest effort to keep him out of trouble and Tristan out of prison. I don’t know if he thought their fight was over or that I wasn’t being serious or what, but he casually walked up to Camie and said in quiet voice, “C’mon, Camie, let’s get out of here…” and before I could use the Great Ape to intervene, Scott went to take her by the elbow…

Camie recognized the danger though and threw herself in between the two, pushing Tristan back using all her strength, which is kind of a lot for a girl. I mean, she’s not nearly strong enough to actually push or hold him back; I’m just saying, she’s pretty strong for a chick and I’m sure that’s exactly why Tristan didn’t throw her to the ground in his intense desire to tear (aw shit, I forgot his name again) the guy limb from limb. He stayed back simply because it was her asking him to without words.

As she pushed him, Tristan locked eyes with whatever his name is and pointing at him over Camie’s head, Tristan issued a beautifully stated threat via warning, “You better stay the fuck out of this you little parasitic piece of anal rot…I’m highly unstable and I don’t have dick to live for right now so I’m about ten seconds from making it necessary for your parents to identify your fucking body at the goddamned morgue and because I’m a first time offender, I’ll make bail and with my bare fucking hands, I’ll fucking kill you again for kicks just because I want to and because I can!”

I moved in between the three of them and through a teeny bit of reminding of my own, I convinced Scott (Hey! I remembered his name!) to return to the sidelines with me for his own safety. The two real contenders in this fight were back at it before he and I even turned around to observe from a safer distance. And as I watched two of my very best friends verbally rip each other to shreds, I pulled out my phone, typed out a text and waited for the moment I would send it.

“Well, as far as we spectators go, the show’s just about over…did you drive or do you need a ride?”

“What?”

“Well, this is about to go private…like an invite only thing but one they never issue invitations for, and like I said earlier, I didn’t drive here so I’m getting a ride. I was inquiring as to whether you needed one or if you’re good,” I clarified, keeping a close eye on Tristan.

“Uh, I’m good…what are you talking about…going private?”

“You see that?” I asked rhetorically and pointed to Tristan’s septic expression as Camie battered him and he clobbered her in return. “That’s the expression of someone who values very little else above his privacy and who’s
juuust
about had it with airing his laundry in public.”

“So they’re almost done then?”

“Ah,
no
. Not even close. He’s gonna kidnap her and she might put up a struggle and she might not, but regardless, they’ll be continuing this away from prying eyes in less than thirty seconds.”

“Bullshit…” he said like he didn’t believe it was possible.

“Just watch…she’s gonna go over his shoulder
iiiinn
ten, nine,” I said and raising my phone, camera side out and taking careful aim, I confidently began counting down at the same time Camie hit Tristan with:

“I am
sooo
fucking sick and tired of your king of the mountain, everyone lives to serve me, holier than thou bullshit!
YOU
broke up with me! On
my birthday
, Tristan!! That means I can even
fuck
whoever I wan
AAAHHH
!!!”

Click and send.

“Wh—?!”
Scott said under his breath, and I’m not sure, but I think I saw a smug grin flash across his face a second before Tristan hoisted Camie and threw her over his shoulder. “Uhh, okay then…um, I guess I’ll see you around?”

“You bet, Scott,” I replied kind of sarcastically, adding a little wave, and then I watched Tristan stalk away with his girlfriend/not girlfriend who was struggling to get down off the king of the mountain before they reached his bus, and when she couldn’t, she literally bit him in the ass. I took another picture when, with her teeth still biting into him, he replied in kind.

As I sat down to wait, munching on Camie’s delightfully unbuttered popcorn, I read Jeff’s reply to the text I’d sent him that included the picture of the precise moment Tristan had tossed Camie onto his shoulder, turning towards the parking lot as he did so. It read:

Me:
@ movies…he drove

His reply was as follows:

Jeff:
on my way

Well, I don’t know about you, but I got my second wind…I’m goin’ to Kristen’s. Sardines anyone?

Oh yeah, you need un especial invitation. I mean I would invite you, but since it’s not my party and I don’t have your number anyway, I can’t. Um, sorry?

A clean break ~ Tristan

All I wanted to do was grab her and kiss her. A lot. Kiss her a lot.

I don’t know why our fighting does that to us. I really don’t. I don’t know where it comes from, I don’t understand it, and, I don’t like it. Maybe it happens because we don’t express our emotions—all kinds of emotions, not just the negative ones—for too long and then like a pot of water that’s been kept to a simmer, when the burner is suddenly put on high the heat that was just barely being contained is released and before you know it, the now scalding water is boiling over, burning everything it touches.

It’s just a theory. Regardless of whether it’s accurate, I don’t like it. It isn’t supposed to be like this. The part that really makes me angry though is that I can’t stop myself. She gets under my skin in so many different ways and although I do lose my temper too easily in regard to her, usually I’m able to rein it in before an argument becomes a full blown fight. However, when she lashes out with her rapier-like tongue, I can’t
not
strike back. And just like that pot of water, we become consumed and boil over, completely out of control.

She’d said they’re just friends. I didn’t buy that for a single second. She can claim they’re just friends all she wants, but that guy, that guy
specifically
, has had his eye on her for months. I saw the “accidental” meeting between them at the bowling alley. Camie looked oblivious when she came out of the bathroom, but the guy…the guy was waiting for her. And when she came out, he purposely stepped in her path. There was intent. I saw it. I saw it a second time at Brandon’s party when I got back from the store with the lotion she’d asked me to get. Well, she didn’t outright ask me to leave the party and go get her lotion, but she made it clear it would be a long night without it.

I didn’t give it too much thought either of those times because of how she reacted to him, but, taking those two instances, what Jeff had said about that other party, him popping up like he did at the fashion show last night, and then catching her on a date with him tonight? Well, the conclusion I came to was that she’d been cheating on me.
Before
we even supposedly broke up three weeks ago. When I saw her sitting next to him, I never even gave a thought to controlling my temper because I automatically thought,
Oh my fucking God, she’s cheating on me.
It was a reasonable conclusion to me because in my mind, because I never actually broke up with her, she’s still my girlfriend and I’m still her boyfriend. But
then
, then we started fighting and she started saying things about doing what she wanted with who she wanted; things she’s thrown at me in some other arguments we’ve had recently, however, this time she shot me with the knowledge that in her mind, she could fuck someone else and I would have no say.