Shark Bait (The Grab Your Pole Series) (29 page)

Aw, he’s so sweet sometimes; don’t you just wanna eat him up?

“No, keep driving…maybe even a little faster,” I told him and answered my phone.

And I did that by saying, “Hi Daddy.” But I was really thinking this: Aw shit.

Without having even greeted me, my dad requested I put him on speakerphone “so I can talk to the boy.” I whispered a quick apology to Tristan who’s finding this all very amusing. Then I turned the speakerphone on, held my phone up, and hung my head in misery.

Me: “Okay Daddy…go ahead.” (I’m silently praying…)

My Dad: “Can you hear me, boy?”

Tristan: “Yes sir.” (Thank God he has the common sense to use the proper amount of courtesy here and keep the amusement out of his voice…even if he did just wink at me.)

My Dad: “Good. Do you own a watch, son?”

Tristan: “Yes sir.” (Now I get the “where is he going with this?” look.)

My Dad: “Do you know how to tell the fucking time on that watch?” (Oh crap! Did my dad just drop an f-bomb?!)

Me: “Dad!” (Tristan just slowed the car down and I think I’m going to have to kill my father.)

My Dad: “I want her home by midnight, not a second later.”

Tristan: “Absolutely sir.”

My Dad: “Alright then, have fun kids. Oh, and boy?”

Tristan: “Yes sir?”

My Dad: “My gun’s got night scope.”

Tristan: “I understand sir.” (He’s now making a U-turn.)

I ended the call and started giggling uncontrollably.

“What are you laughing at?” Tristan asked almost indignantly, but I think he’s actually still sort of shaken by my dad’s threat.

“I’ve been teetering on the brink of a mental breakdown since Monday and I think my dad just pushed me over the edge, because oh my God, I thought that was so damned funny!” I explained to him while wiping the tears off my cheeks. “Are you taking me home now? I totally wouldn’t blame you.”

“No! Jesus, you really have lost it,” he answered and started laughing at me.

“Then why did you turn around?” I really was trying to get control of my giggles, but I think I’ve finally cracked under the stress.

“Oh, well maybe it’s not the best idea to take a gunman’s daughter to the drive-in movies in the aforementioned (Aforementioned? Oh, we are so totally made for each other.) bedroom on wheels…” He stopped at a red light and winked at me.

That just made me laugh even harder and when I could catch my breath I said, “And you think he’s gonna somehow know about that?! Oh God, that’s even funnier!”

Tristan then pulled over to the side of the road to read my face. “That sounded suspiciously like you just called me a chicken.”

“If the beak fits…” I said through my laughter, remembering the taunt he’d used on me earlier today.

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought.” He chuckled to himself and made another U-turn. “Just so you know, I’m not likely to forget this.”

Uh-oh.

That sobered me up pretty quickly. Trading cars wasn’t so bad when I didn’t know where we’re going, but now I do. Not only that, but it sounded ominously like Tristan just gave me a warning—or, a threat...

We exchanged vehicles without issue and we talked about random stuff as we drove to the theater then Tristan asked, “Did you eat?”

“I snacked a little so I’m not really hungry right now.”

“Please tell me you’re not one of those girls who refuse to eat in front of guys,” he said and narrowed his eyes at me like he could decipher the truth by looking at me intently.

“I’m not, but why would you think that?” I asked and returned the narrow-eyed glance, which made him laugh.

“Because all I’ve ever seen you eat is a few bites of pizza and I had to practically shove it down your throat.” Ah, memories…

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. That was really good pizza too... And I promise I do enjoy the eating of food. I’m even well versed in protecting my plate with my fork if anyone so much as dares to think about sneaking something off it…I could even be on a competitive team or something.

“I’m honestly just not all that hungry for real food. I’ll be good with popcorn and some licorice. I love licorice. Red not black, I hate black licorice…it tastes like jet fuel and turns everything it touches a sickly shade of bluish-gray,” I rambled as he turned into the entrance for the drive-in.

Well isn’t this mighty fine timing… Hello nervous speech, how I’ve missed you. It’s fine when you ramble in your head, but when you actually have diarrhea of the mouth...? Well, that’s usually embarrassing.

“Okay, you pick…which theater?” Tristan asked when we came up to the split in the road, not once calling attention to my outburst that I feel closely resembled verbal Turrets.

The decision was a no brainer for me though. I’m just hoping he isn’t in the mood to watch the double feature with a drama and a slasher-type thriller, because I am so not. I pointed to the left. “The one that’s playing
The Hangover
.”

“You sure?”

“Yep. Unless you’d rather see something on the other side.”

Hmm. I wouldn’t peg him for being a horror movie kinda guy, but maybe the drama is supposed to be good. I haven’t heard much about it so I don’t know.

He grinned and pulled forward to the left. “Nope. I was hoping you’d pick that one. I didn’t get to see it in the actual theater and I really wanted to…I just wanted to make sure.”

“I didn’t get to see it either, but it’s supposedly hysterical.”

Whew! At least the first one is a movie neither of us has seen and one we’ll both probably want to pay attention to.

Tristan parked in the back so the bus didn’t block any of the smaller cars, and before shutting the engine off, he tuned the radio to the correct channel for the movie. Then, holding hands—teehee—we walked to the snack bar for some munchies. We got in line behind a group of five other teenagers who were being loud and obnoxious like many teenagers are, but I ended up not paying any attention to their antics as that was when Tristan turned me to face him and said, “Hi” then he gave me the first real kiss since last Saturday night. It’d also be the first of many to come tonight, and again I say teehee!

I was so wholly absorbed in my new favorite pastime, Tristan wound up proving his prowess in the art of multitasking. He had to; otherwise we would’ve never gotten our snacks. I’m also kind of thinking we’d have missed the first part of the movie. Before I understood what he was actually doing, he picked me up in a hug—without breaking the kiss…how’s that for impressive? —and it wasn’t until he set me back down that I realized he’d moved us forward in line. Not willing to stop kissing either, he did that a couple more times before it was our turn at the counter.

When we got back to the bus, Tristan raised the overhead compartment where we would be watching the movie and then we climbed up to, not idly by any means, wait for it to start. It was during this time that I came to accept the fact that when Tristan and I kiss we tend to become if not oblivious, then at least indifferent to what’s going on around us. And I’m also now wondering if he’d already figured that out last Saturday and that’s why he’d avoided kissing me at the bonfire and at the pizza place, because I have a feeling that’s all we would’ve done for the several hours we were at the beach, and that Conner might’ve slowly bled to death from his minor cut. I know that for me personally, I probably wouldn’t notice or care if someone put a tray of ice cubes down the back of my shirt or told me that aliens have invaded Earth and the movie
War of the Worlds
is becoming a reality…I’m that rapt.

When the film finally started rolling he mumbled, “I think the movie’s starting.”

“Mm-hm,” I mumbled in reply. What are we supposed to be seeing again?

After a few minutes—I think. I really have no idea how long it was—he moved down to my neck and murmured, “Thank you for the ponytail.”

I angled my neck a little more. “My pleasure.”

No really, it is. He’s not the only one who can plan ahead…I wore it up for this exact reason. Ahh, here come those utterly delightful goose bumps!

Sometime later and again through a kiss, he mumbled, “Did you wanna watch the movie?”

Uh, movie? Are we supposed to be seeing a movie? Honestly, all I’m thinking about is how his astounding lips are moving, leaving me breathless, but not…if that makes any sense whatsoever.

“I forgot what movie it is…” I told him truthfully as he nibbled his way down my jaw line.

I suppose I could’ve been embarrassed by admitting that he’d essentially kissed me into some kind of amnesia-like fog, but he started laughing and said, “Me too. Okay, we gotta stop or neither of us will hear either alarm.”

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that he’d set his phone alarm as a back-up to mine, which totally adds credence to my theory that he gets just as befuddled as I do, because we have like five hours before either of them are scheduled to go off.

Somewhat grudgingly, we peeled ourselves apart and readjusted our positions so we could at least try to be good and enjoy the movie. Which we did; it was probably the funniest movie I’ve seen in my life—the parts I saw anyway. However, and I’m not sure who started it, we ended up making out again for, give or take, the last fifteen minutes of the movie and part way into the intermission. I should also mention that for the most part, Tristan’s been really good about keeping his hands to himself. I was kind of expecting him to take advantage of my delirium to check on the whole thong thing, but he either doesn’t want to spook me or he’s simply content with having his hands on the skin of my back or in my hair. Yeah, even as appreciated as it is, the ponytail has gotta be looking pretty pathetic by this point.

Let me see if I can come up with an adequate example of what it’s been like for you… Oh, okay, here’s a good one; kissing Tristan (or being kissed by Tristan, whichever…) is like an extreme sport. It’s entirely exciting, it produces a monumental quantity of adrenaline, it’s absolutely and altogether addictive, and it requires plenty of fluids. When we stopped kissing the first time, both of us ended up draining our sodas within ten minutes and I’m pretty sure our thirst and bladders were what halted us the second time. It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? Alien life forms massacring the human race can be completely ignored but nature calling will get your attention every time.

I ran a brush through my hair, thus killing the small woodland creature that had decided to nest in it, and then we got out of the bus and wandered over to the bathrooms. That’s when we found them.

“Oh! Poor kitties…oh, you’re so itty-bitty,” I cooed to the two kittens mewing and shivering in the corner by the snack bar.

Tristan bent down next to me and scooped one up. “Oh wow, they really are…I wonder where their mom is...”

“I don’t know, maybe the guy in the snack bar has been feeding them though. They don’t look like they’re starving,” I replied, cuddling the black and white one.

“Come on, we can go ask,” he suggested and then he stood up holding the black one that I could hear purring its little heart out.

The snack bar attendant told us that a car had hit their mother two weeks ago and there used to be five of them, but he hadn’t seen the other three in a week. He also said that the manager was planning on calling animal control to come get them if they didn’t disappear this weekend like their mom and littermates had. Really, what a jerk. Not the attendant, he’s cool, but the manager…

“I can’t just bring them home…my dad will flip out, but maybe if I pick the right time to ask he’ll let me keep one. I don’t know about both though,” I told Tristan and gave him a pleading look with big puppy dog eyes.

He chuckled. “Fine. My parents won’t care, but I’ll have to keep them separate from the dog.”

“Oh you’re the best!” I said with glee and gave him a gentle hug so I didn’t squeeze the life out of the ball of fur he was holding against his chest. And speaking from experience, that spot happens to be prime real estate so the kitten should feel honored.

“No I’m not…you’re just determined to make me a father in whatever way you can.”

“Oh shut up…” I told him and nudged him with my shoulder.

He gave me a grin and a wink. Then he asked, “Do you care about seeing the second movie?”

“I don’t even remember what it is, so no,” I answered and nuzzled my own bundle of fluff that was purring just as loudly now.

“Okay good. I’m thinking we should probably go to the store for kitten supplies and then take them home.”

“Do itty-bitty babies wanna go shopping?
Yeeesss
. Get some
toys
, and
fooood
, and more
toys
, and...” I trailed off from what I was saying when I heard Tristan clear his throat. Then I looked up and caught the crooked grin he gave me at my use of baby talk that I’d been speaking to the kittens with.

We took the kittens into the store with us and loaded up a cart with all the things any two kittens in the world would ever need or want. Judging from their size, we figured they were probably about six weeks old so we bought both wet and dry food for them just in case they couldn’t chew the dry yet. Tristan got a little irritated with me when I insisted on splitting the bill down the middle, but laughed when I told him to quit being a caveman and get over it. Even though I know he was teasing me before, I’m thinking that playing house and going through an adoption together isn’t typical behavior for two teenagers who are on their first date, but that’s honestly what this feels like. What’s even stranger is that neither of us thinks it’s weird…as if we frequently decided to raise pets with our dates. Well, dates being plural for him, singular for me.

By the time we got back to Tristan’s it was about ten o’clock and it occurred to me that even with the open relationship he has with his parents, they might not be so thrilled that he’s bringing a girl home at this time.

“Um, won’t your parents think it’s a little late for visitors?” I asked, hesitantly following him to the front door.

“I doubt it, but they’re not even home. Every Friday night is date night and they don’t usually get home until around one,” he answered, flipping house lights on in the entryway.