The Other Fish in the Sea (40 page)

Oh and yeah, I’ve totally forgotten ever having any morning weirdness at all…

20.

Miraculous Secrets Revealed

The following day marked the beginning of Jillian’s high school career. It was also day one of what would eventually become a bitter standoff between Tristan and me.
 

He’s being an ass about the winter formal, exactly like Melissa had forewarned. Any time I’ve brought it up, he’s either shut me down immediately with a statement like, “Baby, will you just please leave it alone, I don’t dress up,” or otherwise he’s just pretended like he didn’t hear me and changed the subject. Not only that, but I’m getting the impression he’s not thrilled with me wanting to try out for cheer. He hasn’t actually said anything directly, but judging from his put upon facial expressions when it’s mentioned and his sort of disgruntled and somewhat reluctant acceptance that I would be staying after school for a couple hours every day to start learning routines and practicing them, I think I’m safe in saying he would really rather I didn’t become a cheerleader.

It was Wednesday after practice when Tristan and I were driving to meet Kate and Jeff at the mall for our fashion show fittings that I had that thought confirmed.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you?” I asked him. I’d been chattering about how relieved I was to find that learning the routine we’re supposed to try out with is coming so easy to me. His passive-aggressive non-responsiveness however is making me feel like the rain clouds I can see in the distant mountains are actually right overhead.

“Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m good,” Tristan answered in his normal tone of voice and if it was just that I was going off of, I would’ve believed him.

“You’re lying to me.”

“Wh—lying about what?” He asked in surprise and maybe even a little offense.

“Something’s bothering you and whatever it is, it’s been bugging you for days and you don’t wanna tell me what it is,” I replied, knowing that I’m one hundred percent right about my statement. Wow. I wonder if this is how Jilly feels all the time.
 

“Baby, I’m fine,” he told me, not exactly denying what I’d said.

“Is it about me trying out for cheer?”
 

Bingo!
 

And it’s a good thing he’d just parked because the second the question was out of my mouth, he squeezed his eyes closed like I’d hit him or something. Then without opening them again, he blew out a defeated sounding breath while running a hand through his hair.

“Okay, yeah…it is.”

“Well, go on…”

“Do I have to?”

“Yeah, you do. No bottling stuff up, remember?” I reminded him of the “no poison” part of our contract that we each now have permanent bodily copies of for future reference, you know, in case we somehow forget.

He kinda growled about having to talk it out but he did it all the same. “Alright, here’s the truth…I don’t want you to be a cheerleader but my reasons are completely unreasonable and probably selfish, so I’ve been trying to just grow up and deal with it.”

“Okay, so what are your reasons?” I really do appreciate his honesty here and I’m not about to freak out on him by saying, “Well too damn bad, I don’t give a crap what you want, I wanna be a cheerleader!” you know? I mean, he’s not
telling
me I can’t be one, he’s just admitting he doesn’t
want
me to be one, and there’s a huge difference between the two.

“Come on, Camie, you should know me well enough by now to know that I’m gonna have a
really
fuckin’ hard time with you being a cheerleader. I already flip-out when other guys look at you or talk to you, or god forbid, touch you…but, now throw in you parading around in a cheer uniform and the looks are gonna go from abstract thoughts like “hey, she’s kinda hot,” to leers and not so abstract thoughts. I mean for Christ’s sake, I
know
how guys think. Fuck, I’m one of the worst of ‘em and knowing all of what will be goin’ through their heads is gonna make me insane but, what the fuck am I gonna do? Handcuff myself to you so I can appease my irrational jealousy?”

How’s that for honesty, folks?

Now you might think I’d laugh at his idea of wanting to handcuff himself to me, and yes, the mental image is rather amusing, but this isn’t the time to make light of what he’s clearly struggling a great deal with, and in all truthfulness, I don’t want to be the cause of his distress.

“This is a big deal for you, isn’t it? If it’s gonna upset you that much, maybe I shouldn’t try out at all…” I know that might sound like I’m allowing my wishes to take a backseat to his, but that’s not how I feel about it. Do I want to be a cheerleader? Yes. Do I have my heart set on it? No. Do I want to have a relationship with him where there’s give and take so we can live in the happy medium? Absolutely.

Tristan sighed and looked at me in an almost woebegone fashion. “Baby, you already do a really great job of dealing with my jealousy bullshit, and I appreciate your willingness in even considering giving up something you wanna do because of it, but I don’t want you to. It’s not gonna be easy for me, honestly I am absolutely going to abhor you being a cheerleader but, it’s something I’m just gonna have to work through on my own…so, cheer away, Merrill.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. So if you get on the team, just try to keep in mind I might, well, might is stretching it…keep in mind I’m
definitely
gonna do some obnoxious hovering in the beginning while I’m trying to learn how to maintain some semblance of sanity without cold-clocking guys right and left, okay?”

Now I can giggle.

We shared a couple of sweet and tender kisses, both of us having had our hearts calmed and put at ease again and then, hand-in-hand, we went through the whole rigamarole of what being fitted for the fashion show entails. It actually wasn’t bad for either of us because he and I are both signed up for swimwear, so it was really just a matter of making sure the stores had the specific suits and accessories they wanted us to model in our sizes. Other people who are doing things like formal wear actually have to have things altered so they fit correctly.
 

By the way, I hope that little scene demonstrates how Tristan and I do more than just homework, go to parties, make-out and think about sex. We actually
do
talk about stuff too.

Afterwards, Kate and I split off from the guys for a bit. They went to the food court and she and I went to Victoria’s Secret. Yes, I have outgrown my bras yet again and I’m actually very surprised Tristan hasn’t made mention of my increasing bust-line. One of the things I’ve discovered about being on birth control pills is a little weight gain; however it seems like all the weight I’ve gained has been in my boobs. Anyway, Kate and I were looking at all the racks and displays when she started cracking up.

“Oh my God, Camie, we
so
have to try these on!” She said excitedly and shoving an enormous bra into my arms.

“I’ve gotten bigger but not
this
big! Jeez, Kate, what size is—Oh!” I said, noticing that the giant over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder was actually my size, and then I read what the display said. “Increases your cup size by two full cups? No way…”

So we each took one into the dressing rooms and tried them on.
 

Oh Holy 36DD Batman!

“Kate, we look like Pamela Anderson wannabes!” We do. These bras are gargantuan and there’s so much padding that I would be willing to bet they’re bulletproof too.

“Oh, the guys would
love
these! We have to get them!” She enthused.
 

I’m really happy that Kate is starting to look and act like herself again, but come on, I’m not about to spend sixty bucks on a bra that my dad probably wouldn’t let me out of the house in. And as for the guys loving these? Well, Jeff might but I can guarantee Tristan will absolutely put his foot down. I’m pretty certain he wouldn’t even like it if I wore it in just his company alone, but after our earlier conversation, there’s no way in hell he’d be okay with me wearing this thing in public.

“Uh, no. Jeff might like it for you, but Tristan won’t be thrilled,” I told her while laughing at our “enhanced” reflections.

“Oh, I bet he will…he’s a boob guy, Camie, you know that. Besides, it’d just be for fun!”

Yeah, that’s true, but he’s really more of a whole package kinda guy and a jealous one at that. Kate might know Tristan really well but I got her on this one and I know it for a fact.
 

“I disagree, wanna bet?”

“You’re on…what’s the bet?” She asked, behaving more and more like her old spunky self.

“Okay, if Tristan likes this thing on me, I’ll buy one for me
and
one for you.
But
, if he doesn’t, then you have to buy us each a pair of those acid washed jeans from the Guess store and we both wear them to my birthday party.” She’s gotta go for it, it’s totally fair…the jeans cost about the same amount as the bras and she hated them just as much as I hate this travesty of an undergarment. I mean, this is like the best bet ever!

“
Oooh
, those things were hideous…it’s a bet! You better get out your wallet, girl, because they’re gonna flip when they see us in these,” Kate pronounced and pulled out her cell phone.

Okay, so here’s some comedy for you, when Kate called Jeff (they tend to not be texters with each other by the way) she put it on speakerphone.

Jeff: “Hey babe, I’m still in the food court, you want anything?”

Kate: “Um, no, but Camie and I have a favor to ask both of you.”

Jeff: “Oh okay, what?”

Kate: “Well, we can’t decide if what we’re thinking about buying really looks okay or not, so could you guys be the judge?”

Jeff: “Aw Katy…you know I hate watchin’ you try clothes on…” (We hear Jeff make a feeble attempt to cover the mouthpiece and then he said, “
Dude, you have like five minutes to learn how to answer does this make me look fat without pissing your girlfriend off.”
That was promptly followed by Tristan’s response of “
Aw fuck.”
)

Kate: “I know, but this won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Jeff: “Yeah, yeah…where are you?”

Kate: “Victoria’s (We hear the sound of a chair being scraped backwards and most likely hitting the ground and then Tristan yelped, “
Ouch! You’re pulling my hair not my shirt, you fuck!”
) Secret.”

Jeff: “We’re on our way!” (Before the phone is disconnected we hear Jeff tell Tristan where it is he’s dragging him and then two pairs of feet pounding on the concrete.)

Kate and I were still cracking up and I swear the guys were at the store before the call was actually ended. When they saw us standing there (we put our shirts on over the bras of course), both of their jaws dropped. Kate had a smug grin on her face and I was trying to not appear likewise.

“Katy, how in the name of God—is that…? You have GOT to get one of these!” Jeff managed, clearly happy with Kate’s miraculous breast augmentation.

“See? I
knew
they’d like it! Pay up!” Kate demanded and had to bat Jeff’s hand away from her.

“Uh-uh.
They
wasn’t the bet, it was
he
and like I thought, he’s not all that happy,” I said and indicated Tristan with my chin. He’s standing there with a very definite disapproving expression on his face now that the initial shock of seeing me look like some kind of Anna Nicole Smith impersonator has worn off.

“You can’t possibly make me believe you wouldn’t like to have your girlfriend wearing one of these,” Kate said to Tristan who was starting to shake his head back and forth.

Before answering, Tristan twirled his finger and pointed a look at me and then back at the dressing rooms, meaning it would please him greatly if I would remove the offending article of clothing from my person and go back to being me, which in his mind is more than enough to be jealous about at this point.
 

“Kate, I really don’t give a shit what you believe, but I sincerely hope I’m dead and buried long before she ever wears something like that again and even then I’d probably be rollin’ over in my grave.”

Kate grudgingly conceded the victory to me, but graciously allowed a giddy Jeff to buy one of the bras for her anyway and while I was paying for my own stuff, the sales lady had a couple comments of her own.

“Are you sure you don’t want The Miraculous too? You really did look good in it and a little extra never hurts,” she said in a way that I’m sure she was trained to make sound sincere.

“Yeah, I’m sure. He’s right, it’s not for me,” I answered equally sincere but honestly.

“Well, I don’t know why you’re listening to
him
, I think it’s a double standard…I’m sure your brother wouldn’t mind one bit if his girlfriend wore one for him,” she said, shaking her head and this time, I could tell she was really speaking her mind and not just trying to up her sales.

I was trying really hard to not laugh when it occurred to me that she was under the mistaken assumption that Tristan is my brother. I was so tempted to give him a wholly inappropriate for public kiss just to freak the lady out, but having come up behind me and overhearing what the woman had said, he spoiled my fun.

“I
am
her boyfriend, and yeah, I would mind. Quite a bit actually…and you guys should be sued for selling what is tantamount to a lie,” Tristan decreed with a fair amount of offense. However, the sarcastic expression he was wearing didn’t quite convey his emotion so the sales lady didn’t know he was being all that serious and tried to joke her way out of it.

“Well, it’s cheaper than a boob job,” she said with a laugh and put the receipt for my purchases in my bag.

“Wearing one of those is nothing more than false advertising and she doesn’t need surgery either, she’s perfect the way she is. I’m wondering, do you sleep well at night after having lied to your customers and letting them leave with a negative body image or do you just simply have no conscience? You know what, never mind, I don’t give a shit…that’s your problem, not ours,” Tristan retorted, shutting the woman up completely.