Shark Out of Water (Grab Your Pole, #3) (45 page)

“No, you’re right, I don’t. But, you do…Tristan, remember when I cheated on Keith and I was feeling
so
horribly guilty about it?”

“Yep,” I answered and shook my head. I know where she’s goin’ with this, but, it’s just not the same.

“Do you remember telling me how guilt will eat you alive if you let it and then asking me if it felt good to come clean?”

“Yeah, but Mel—”

“Because that’s what you need to do! Tristan, she’ll forgive you, you know? I mean, if Brandon had come to me and told me he’d cheated, I would’ve forgiven him, but…that’s a whole different scenario so whatever…but, even if she doesn’t forgive you, you still need to come clean to her so this tapeworm like guilt won’t kill you!”

I couldn’t help it; I looked at her confidently defiant expression and chuckled.

“What? What’s funny? I’m being serious!”

“I know and that’s what’s so ridiculous…fuck, Melissa, I’m not trying to be a dick here, but you really have no goddamned clue.”

“W—yes I do! It was hard, but you can tell her and put a stop t—”

“Melissa, I wish it were that, I really do, but, I didn’t cheat on Camie.”

“Y—you didn’t?” She asked in what could be said to be massive confusion or mild shock.

You see? I knew that was what she was thinking and I wasn’t kidding when I told her I wished that’s what I’d done. I mean, shit, that would be a breeze to admit in comparison to telling Camie I was gonna rape her when she along with her parents and everyone else trusted me to keep her safe in every way.

I was shaking my head and ran my hand through my hair in frustration. “No. I didn’t. And just so you know, Brandon never cheated on you either.”

“What?!
How would
you
know whether he did or not?!”

“Because he told me. I asked him if he was before you ever accused him of it…he said he wasn’t and I believe him.” It wasn’t my intention to rat Brandon out by telling Melissa something he could very easily tell her himself but for reasons that basically amount to wounded pride he hasn’t. But in between going through my self-imposed torture, I’ve been doin’ a little watching of my own and I’ve seen some things that lead me to believe Melissa’s on the verge of making an even bigger mistake than when she accused Brandon of cheating on her and I’d really hate to see that happen.

“Well, uh, I don’t know what to say, Tristan, except that he lied to you…”

I considered her and that possibility for a second and decided to ask, “Let me ask you something, what makes you so sure he was cheating on you?” Because really, I love girls and everything, but, they really know how to jump to the wrong conclusions about shit. Yeah, okay, I realize I haven’t exactly been the poster child for getting theories right lately, but whatever…unless she has pictures to prove otherwise; Brandon’s word is good enough for me. He didn’t cheat.

“I caught him,” she answered simply.

Oh. Well, that changes things, doesn’t it?

“You cau—fuck! Jesus, Melissa, how the hell did you handle that?!” I’m simply floored. I can’t imagine what I would’ve done if I ever actually
caught
Camie cheating on me. I mean thinking she did and being wrong about it was bad enough… “And does
he
know you caught him cheating?” Brandon might be a little rough around the edges, but he’s definitely not stupid. If he knew she’d seen him cheating on her, he wouldn’t bother trying to lie to me about it. I mean, what’s the point? He’d know that she’d eventually say something to someone and I’d hear about it…witness this conversation.

“I went home and cried, that’s what I did. And no, he doesn’t know. I knew he had a rehearsal with the band, but I wanted to surprise him so I left cheer practice early one day to go watch them, thinking we could go out afterwards or something, and when I got to his house, where he was
supposed
to be…well, he wasn’t. I sent him a text and asked where he was, and I was sitting in front of his house when he replied and said he was practicing, so I got out of my car and went around to the back just to be sure, and because the studio door was locked, I knocked. No one answered because no one was there.

“So, I turned my phone off so I wouldn’t call him or text him or anything and I just went home. And cried. I was waiting for him to feel guilty about it, you know? Like you and I did…I figured he would at some point. Feel guilty I mean, and then he’d tell me and I could forgive him, but, that’s not what happened. He never felt guilty or even bad about it and he broke up with me instead.”

I was nodding my understanding and agreement but then it hit me. She never actually
saw
him with another chick or anything…he just wasn’t someplace she thought he should be. I mean shit, there could be any number of non-cheating reasons for him to not be at his house in the garage studio where the band normally rehearses! Oh thank God! I was really starting to believe he’d lied to me even after this past weekend, which, honestly, would’ve stung more than I care to admit.

So, with my belief being completely reaffirmed, my head nod went to a shake when I said, “Whoa, back it up…you didn’t catch him doin’ shit, Melissa. He just wasn’t where you
thought
he was supposed to be.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s my point, Tristan. He said he was at rehearsal and he wasn’t! So why’d he lie to me? Besides, he
never
told any of the girls who fawned all over him to stop, I mean it always looked like he was
encouraging
them and all that would go on right under my nose, and he practically never introduced me as his girlfriend, like he didn’t want anyone to know he had one or something, and he started to ignore my texts! I mean the night of Camie’s party, I sent him like four or five texts asking where he was and when he was gonna get there and he didn’t respond to a single one! He gave me some story about practice running late and not being able to reply because of that and when I didn’t buy it, he tried to laugh it off, and the clincher was that he didn’t deny it when I finally called him out, so really, what am I supposed to think?!”

“Honestly, I think you’re way off base with the cheating, I really do…I don’t know about the rest of it, but I’ll bet you anything if you’d ever asked him where he was specifically that time, he would’ve told you and it wouldn’t have had a single thing to do with him fucking around on you. Seriously, Melissa, you should talk to him…”

“Well, I’m not gonna. If what you’re saying is true, he should be the one to say something about it to me. I mean, he broke up with me, not the other way around, so even
if
he wasn’t cheating on me, he obviously didn’t wanna be with me anymore anyway. So, whatever, it’s over…I’m moving on,” she said and what had started with her sounding hopeful about what I know to be the truth, ended with her simple resignation at the same time her eyes caught sight of Keith behind me.

I looked over my shoulder and saw him come out of the locker room, but I stifled my wholly exasperated eye-roll and moderately disgusted sigh. “Speaking of that, Melissa, from one friend to another, don’t do it. Call Brandon or don’t, it’s up to you, but…don’t get back together with him,” I said and with my head, I subtly indicated Keith who was leaning against the locker room wall, waiting for her, “It won’t be like it was before…he, ah…doesn’t have the same respect for you as he once did, if you get my meaning.”

“How do you know?” She asked me a little too defiantly, making me want to shake my head in disappointment.

“Because I know. Camie and I haven’t been the only subject of locker room talk lately…”

“What does that mean?”

I sighed. “He ditched his date for the dance, did you know that?”

“Yeah, so what? He’s going stag, big deal. He didn’t do it for me, I’m still going with Pete.”

Yeah, he’s showing up without a date because he plans on hi-jacking Pete’s during or after the dance. Not that Pete will care very much. He’s not into Melissa and he’s really not into the dance this year for some reason either, but here’s my dilemma; how do I politely tell Melissa that Keith’s made it no secret that he’s really only in it because he thinks he’s finally gonna get to fuck her? I mean, I don’t doubt that he has some feelings left for her or anything, but, that’s not what he’s being vocal about, which probably means he doesn’t have a drop of respect for her anymore, and I really don’t wanna see Melissa get taken advantage of which is exactly what’ll happen if she isn’t careful.

“Just…shit. Just trust me on this one, please? You broke up with him for a reason, Melissa, and just because one or two things have changed, nothing else has. So just watch yourself at the dance, okay?”

My advice didn’t go over the way I’d hoped because she glared at me and then bitterly snapped, “You’re one to talk about the dance, Tristan.”

“Don’t. Don’t bring that spineless snake into this…I’ve been goin’ round and round with her about him and I swear to God, Melissa, I wanna slit my wrists every time I think about her with anyone else, but her and Scott whatever his fuckin’ name is…no, I can’t take that…”

“Bose.”

“What?”

“Bose. It’s his last name.”

“Fuck, I don’t give a shit what his last name is, Melissa! I die inside every time I think about her with him!”

“Well, whatever. You could’ve prevented that whole thing, but, you didn’t so have fun living with that knowledge,” she said, her voice dripping in honeyed sarcasm, like I had Kate’s bush-baby hair and she was laughing at me by saying, “Oh, I just
love
your new hairstyle!”

“You incredible bitch,”
I breathed as she started to move away, essentially being flabbergasted at her flippancy.

Melissa stopped, looked at me, and then on a gasp, she hugged me when she realized what she’d said. “Oh my God, Tristan, I’m
so
sorry…I really didn’t mean that. It just came out…I’m just…I don’t know, there’s really no excuse for what I said so I’ll give you your due respect and just agree with you, okay? That was an inexcusably bitchy thing to say to someone I consider to be one of the best people I know,
and
, someone I’m heartbroken for…please forgive me for that,” she said in sincere apology and glanced behind me. I looked over my shoulder again and saw Keith crook his finger, like he was saying, “Come here,” and when she replied by holding up her index finger, asking him to give her a second, I knew anything else I would tell her on that front would go in one ear and out the other so I kept my mouth shut as she continued. “And look, I know your thoughts and I appreciate your concern, but, honestly, I don’t see what difference it makes anymore, you know? Those one or two things that have changed kind of
do
change everything else…”

I was watching Melissa walk away with Keith, who looked back at me and quickly raised his eyebrows like he was either looking for congratulations or encouragement, neither of which was he gonna receive from me, when Jeff made himself and Pete known.

“Let it go, Trist, Pete and I will watch her back at the dance…”

“It won’t do any good… Wait. Watch whose back?”

“Both of ‘em, okay? C’mon, go get changed so we can blow this popsicle stand…Katy’s gonna go pick up her dress and get her nails done and since we don’t have school tomorrow, I’m thinking the three of us can grab Conner and some of the other guys and play a little ball…or, maybe a
lot
of ball,” Jeff said and looking at Pete, he started to laugh, “If I have to spend tomorrow night all sparkly like a fuckin’ vampire, I wanna work up a nice tangy sweat, or, you know, a really nasty body odor and come home dirtier than shit tonight.”

He got a chuckle out of me for that one… “Yeah, it’s good to have goals...alright, make it a lot of ball and you can count me in, but, give me an hour or so though…I wanna go home and work out first. Oh and let’s get something clear here, real vampires don’t sparkle. They brood and they’re goddamned good at it, but they
don’t
fucking sparkle.”

“Not according to what we’ve been reading in Henderson’s, but I’m not gonna argue with you about variants in blood-sucker canon.”

“You gonna swim after we play too?” Pete asked, knowing exactly what I was up to.

“Yep.”

“Has that worked?”

“Nope, not yet, but I figure I might as well keep trying. Besides, exhausting myself with physical activity is better than trying to get some sleep using Nyquil infused turkey.”

“Ew…do I wanna know?” Jeff asked, looking at me and then Pete who was shaking his head in a definite “No, you really don’t,” kind of way.

Echoing Pete’s head shaking I answered, “Hell,
I
don’t even wanna know, man…let’s just say desperate times call for desperate measures…”

As I would discover later to be very true indeed.

Twenty.

Friday (Just Barely), Week Four

Something is wrong ~ Brandon

I’m telling you, listen to me…something’s wrong.

That’s what my gut has been telling me for the last few days now. The thing is, I don’t know what’s wrong. And because of that, I’ve been tuning it out.
But
, tonight, it’s not letting me.

I rolled over in my bed and looked at the clock. 12:26.
AM
.

Shit.

All I wanna do is get a little decent sleep, is that so much to ask? Because it honestly shouldn’t be this hard and I really need it. It’s been such a long fucking week, I haven’t been sleeping all that well, and today’s rehearsal blew chunks because this gut feeling of mine has put me in such a bad fucking mood…I mean I never snap at the guys like I was doing today.
Plus
, I have to get up in six hours to take a fucking economics test…

I blew out another breath and sat up, thinking about maybe playing a video game or something until I just pass out from sheer exhaustion. I wish I could describe what this feels like, but it’s not so much physical as it is physiological. I mean it originates in my stomach and I do feel it physically, which is why I say it comes from my gut, but it’s more or less translated by my whole body and then given to my brain to interpret, if you follow me at all. Shit, I don’t know what to call it or how else to describe it…well, that is unless you wanna get cliché and call it intuition or a sixth sense. Whatever the case, it’s almost
always
right, which means something is definitely wrong.