Shark Bait (The Grab Your Pole Series) (52 page)

Tristan:
Will do, but I wouldn’t clear your calendar if I were you.

Jeff:
I’ve never seen someone abuse alcohol like you did last night. Dude.

Tristan:
Well, you know how seriously I take my ringtones.

Jeff:
Indeed.

Tristan:
I think I’m still drunk. Let’s go surfing.

Jeff:
I’m driving.

Tristan:
Well now I’m sober. This sucks. By the way, I’m not going tonight.

Jeff:
You’ll go.

Tristan:
I want to murder him and I can’t face her.

Jeff:
I won’t let you and you can.

Tristan:
It’s not a good idea, man.

Jeff:
Told you you’d go. Ah…I see we have a new conversation started over there…I must go put in my .02
₵

This next one is new and from the way it reads, I think it was written mostly on Sunday morning after Mike’s party, but it kind of goes along with the bag of pot which is no longer there; probably because Tristan and Jeff baked it into brownies the afternoon before the licorice incident. However, a picture of a marijuana leaf with the words “Just Say No” written under it is thumbtacked in place of where the baggy was.

Tristan’s Mom:
What’s this?

Tristan:
The Gateway to Hell, where I’ve spent the last 7-ish days.

Jeff:
I tried to tell you dude…

Tristan:
I know. Next time beat the shit out of me until I hear you. Never mind. There won’t be a next time.

Tristan’s Dad:
You inhaled, didn’t you son?

Tristan:
Worse. I accidentally shared a piece of licorice and lied about it.

Tristan’s Mom:
As long as you didn’t drive.

Jeff:
Nope. We passed out in the bus like good teenage delinquents.

Tristan’s Dad:
I’m so proud.

Tristan:
You shouldn’t be on this one.

Jeff:
Being a bathroom, a prison guard and a room service guy is exhausting…I’m beat. Hey Joey, want to take a nap?
(Seeing as how Joey the baby can’t read and Tristan is the one who responded, I think this might have something to do with an episode of Friends, but who knows with these guys.) Tristan:
Love to. Can’t. Going to the park to fraternize with the criminally insane.

Jeff:
Nice! Bring mace so you have a shot at dodging bullets in case she’s packing.

Tristan:
Wouldn’t surprise me if she were.

Tristan’s Mom:
I’m heading to the store soon, did you change your mind about wanting anything?

Tristan:
YES! An assload of D batteries. Thanks, you’re the best.

Tristan’s Mom:
What on earth for? Oh wait, I don’t think I want to know.

Tristan’s Dad:
I do…

Jeff:
Me too.

Tristan:
Serious business that requires that aged ghetto blaster you two have kept in the garage. Thanks for that by the way, you’re the best.

Tristan’s Dad:
I think I got a pair of your uncle’s penny loafers out there too if you want them.

Jeff:
That’s wrong. So how’d your play date at the park go?

Tristan:
I made a deal with the devil. How was your nap?

Jeff:
It’s never the same without you.

Tristan:
Oh, that reminds me, can you work some magic and keep Kate away from Camie tomorrow morning?

Jeff:
I got your back dude. Good luck.

Tristan:
Thanks man.

This is the last one I have for you and I think it’s pretty stinkin’ cute:

Tristan’s Mom:
What are these?

Tristan:
Your granddaughters.

Tristan’s Dad:
Don’t worry honey, you don’t look old enough to be a mother let alone a grandmother.

Tristan’s Mom:
Again with the flattery, thank you dear. Where did they come from?

Tristan:
Camie gave birth last night.

Jeff:
I didn’t know she was pregnant.

Tristan:
She wasn’t. It was a miracle.

Tristan’s Mom:
Do they have names?

Tristan:
Phineas and Ferb.

Jeff:
From the cartoon?

Tristan’s Dad:
That figures, he named the dog Scooby.

Tristan’s Mom:
They sound like boy names.

Tristan:
Mom! Shhh, you’ll give them a complex.

Jeff:
If that Ferb one climbs my legs again I’m drop kicking it.

Tristan:
That’s child abuse and I’ll press charges. Besides, they just miss their mom.

Jeff:
I’m calling CPS (cat protective services)…

Tristan:
What for?

Jeff:
Because you’re making your kids live in a broken home unnecessarily.

Tristan:
I’m not talking to you anymore.

Jeff:
Fine, as long as you to talk to her.

Tristan:
Back off.

Jeff:
Nope, not gonna do it.

Tristan:
I’m warning you man.

Jeff:
You miss her too.

Tristan:
Yeah, so?

Jeff:
So do something about it.

Tristan:
Happy? Last night was miserable and I think it’s too late.

Jeff:
You still have a 12 year old ace in the hole.

Tristan:
Saving it as a last resort.

Tristan’s Dad:
Honey, do you have a clue as to what they’re talking about?

Tristan’s Mom:
No and I don’t want one.

Jeff:
I’m just helping my nieces get their parents back together. Dude, it’s time. Make the call.

Tristan:
Alright, I did it. But I get the feeling I’m about to do business with the mob. I hope I don’t wake up with the head of my horse in bed with me tonight.

Jeff:
Well, a good father will do anything he can to protect his family, even if that means he runs the risk of sleeping with the fishes.

Tristan:
Okay girls, your aunt helped Daddy come up with a plan and if it works you should get to see Mommy today. Cross your paws, or claws, or whatever…just cross something for luck.

Pretty funny stuff, huh? Well not all of it, but a lot of it. At least Phineas and Ferb weren’t thumbtacked by their ears to the bulletin board like everything else. And yeah, I know you’re probably thinking that this bulletin/white board thing can’t possibly hold all this communication but I’m not kidding, it does. The thing is huge. It’s floor to ceiling and literally takes up the whole damned wall.

Well, Tristan just pulled up so I have to get going, but before I do, I’ll give you a quick re-cap of everything...

In the end, both Derek and Brandon won their bet. I saw some action within a week, but it took exactly four weeks from the first time I saw him before Tristan and I entered into the first committed relationship of both our lives. And actually, even though neither of us is prepared to admit it at this point, I’m really thinking it all started with both of us experiencing the much-fabled love at first sight, although we experienced it over four months apart from each other. And I’ll admit it, I did spend some time in the beginning thinking it’d be nice if Tristan were like some other people because I thought they had desirable personality traits that he lacks and I’ve since realized I wouldn’t love him if he was anything other than who he is.

I’ve also learned Tristan is the kind of guy who’s capable of making grand gestures and speeches fraught with emotion, even though they’re not exactly the most eloquent—if they’re even spoken at all. And although it takes some effort to understand what he’s saying sometimes, I think I prefer the way he communicates with me. I mean when it comes right down to it, he and I speak the same language...we just have different accents. Ultimately, we get each other and that’s worth more to me than fancy words and having everything spelled out.

And just so you know, Tristan was right; I finally feel like I’m one of them and I fit in. And hey, it only took a few weeks filled with a lot of mistakes and humiliation. I mean it could’ve been worse, right? I might not have even made a single good friend by this point let alone the several I have now. So, I think it was worth putting myself out there and risking looking stupid every now and then, don’t you? Because after all, everyone makes mistakes and no one’s graveyard stays empty forever.

Through it all I’ve learned a lot of things about not only myself and other people, but God too; like it pays to be nice and just be you, but sometimes people do or say some not nice things because they’re scared or insecure, and when that happens, it would behoove you to remember that you’re not perfect either. God has excellent taste in music and has a sense of humor as well, which is kind of a relief and goes to proving my newly adopted theory that He won’t cast me into Hell for swearing. And yes, cancer still sucks but I’m starting to truly believe that God really can turn bad things around for good and I wholeheartedly agree with Tristan’s ringtone for me. I really do feel like heaven is already here because I just don’t see how life can get any better than it is right now.

Who knows though, maybe I’m wrong again and this is really only an uber-phenomenal beginning…

COMING SOON

The Other Fish in the Sea

Book 2 in the Grab Your Pole Series

Turn the page for a sneak peek

Kool-Aid and Honey

It was almost instantaneous. When Tristan and I got together my house turned into the “Kool-Aid house.” You know, the house where all the kids conjoiner at when there isn’t anything else to do. I think that happened mainly because Tristan is there all the time, which means Jeff is there all the time, which, in turn, means Kate—Jeff’s girlfriend and my best friend—is there all the time, and so on… My mom absolutely loves it. Again, in case you’ve forgotten, her name is Mandy and she has breast cancer, which is thankfully in a kind of remission. And because my mom loves having all my friends hanging around constantly, my dad, Kevin, loves it too. I think my mom would’ve loved to have more kids so she makes all my friends feel as welcome as family. I swear you can practically hear Sister Sledge chanting “We Are Family” from my house on any given week night. So, that’s why it was no big deal when Kate threw my front door open one Sunday evening before dinner without having knocked and informed us of the following:

“Well, they’re arguing again so I hope there’s room for one more!”

Kate is a cheerleader and normally she’s spunky, but she’s been a
little
moody lately. I think it’s probably because her parents have been arguing kind of regularly.

“Will it just be you tonight or wi—” my mom started to ask but another voice answered her question before she even got it out.

“Hey Mrs. R, what’s on the menu tonight?” Jeff asked, walking in and kissing Kate on the top of her head.

Completely unfazed by Jeff’s unannounced entrance, my mom answered, “Kevin and Tristan have been in the kitchen for almost two hours trying to follow an old family recipe I found for meatloaf, so we might be having pizza.”

I had to work hard to stifle a laugh because as soon as my mom finished her sentence, both my dad and Tristan came out of the kitchen looking disgruntled with either each other or the state of dinner. I’m guessing they’re worried about the food, though, because it seems like they’re wearing a good portion of the ingredients. At least they’re wearing aprons as well, although that just makes it even funnier.

In order to appreciate the comedy of errors this whole thing is, you should know that neither my dad nor Tristan can really cook but they both think they can. Not to mention that my six-foot four and about two hundred-thirty pounds of solid muscle boyfriend is wearing a pink gingham apron and if that isn’t hysterical enough, it’s also trimmed in lace. Jeff didn’t work at all to stifle his laughter one bit…he just started cracking up.

“It just
has
to be a mistake,” my dad said to Tristan who was wiping his hands on the pink gingham like he has motor oil on his hands and the apron is a garage rag.

Just so you know, Tristan and my dad have totally bonded over the last couple weeks by spending both quality and quantity time in our garage. They’re both really into classic cars, muscle cars, hot-rods—essentially, anything with wheels. I’m completely pleased with that of course, but sometimes I wonder if my dad thinks I brought Tristan home for
him
to play with. I didn’t. I brought him home because
I
like to play with him, but whatever. I’m not going to complain because when we’re alone, Tristan does a really good job of reminding me that he prefers toying with me over tinkering on cars with my dad.

“I don’t think it was. I mean why would it be there right in the middle of the recipe?” Tristan asked, completely ignoring Jeff’s hilarity.

“Boy, (My dad calls Tristan “The Boy.”) I hope you’re right. ‘Cause I wouldn’t have added it…oatmeal just doesn’t go with meatloaf, it just ain’t right.”

Oh good lord. They put oatmeal in the meatloaf…

“I know! It’s just crazy, but
that’s
what the recipe said to do.”

“I’d like Canadian bacon and pineapple on my pizza please,” I teased and had to hop out of the way as the dishtowel my father was holding almost made contact with my butt.

“Young lady, you could at least show some respect like your sister. She’s been in there the whole time reading and hasn’t once said anything negative,” my dad told me with a twinkle in his eyes, demonstrating that he isn’t upset with my lack of confidence in his culinary skills. He talks a big game but really, he’s a softie.

But can we go back to my “respectful” sibling for a moment? I mean seriously, uh-oh.

“Um, Dad? Tristan? Did either of you happen to think
why
she might’ve chosen to read in the kitchen while the two of you were so diligently preparing what I’m sure will be a delicious meal?”

My dad
might
have blinders on when it comes to Jillian, however, Tristan really should know better.