The Other Fish in the Sea (46 page)

I’d been so absorbed in pondering Tristan’s seemingly ill-fated answer about who the mystery girl “(Maybe Not So) Lonely (Not Gay) Pete” had spent alone time with on New Year’s, not to mention the idea that maybe aside from my sister (again, who knows…), I might be the only virgin left in our group now, so I didn’t hear exactly how this little debate came up, but my ears pricked up in attention when I heard the phrase “bad sex.”

“Bad sex is a fuckin’ myth, like a goddamned legendary creature in some fuckin’ sappy fairytale,” Brandon was saying to Jeff who’d resumed his place on the love seat, however, I all of a sudden realized Kate and Melissa weren’t in the room…I’ll bet they went to the bathroom.
 

Crap. Now I need to go and I’m pretty much trapped here underneath two hundred-plus pounds of, albeit yummy and mine, sleeping boy.

“No way…Katy and I’ll both admit we’ve had
awful
sex together.”

 
“How is that even fuckin’ possible? I get chicks can think it’s bad because the O can be goddamned hard for
them
to reach sometimes, but as a guy? It feels great, you get your rocks off, end of fuckin’ story.”

“Yeah, what about when you
don’t
get off though? Now that’s
really
bad sex!”

“Shit, dude, I always get off…one fuckin’ way or another…
always
.”

“Even so, haven’t you ever been with a girl who you just couldn’t fuckin’
wait
to be done with for one reason or another? I know for a fact Trist has and I bet he’d classify that as bad sex.”

And this is where I started to become apprehensive. You can probably understand that, right? Unfortunately, it got worse and I didn’t really know how to stop it.

“Let’s ask him. He’s right here, so why the hell not hear what his
real
thoughts are on it.”

Aaahhh!!
WTH do I do?
 

Before I could even begin to utter a single syllable of protest, Jeff leaned towards the bed and Tristan and asked, “Hey Trist, do you believe bad sex is a myth?”

Tristan’s expression on hearing this question put to him went from restful and happy, to wholly irritated and what I would call disgusted. His answer did
not
help me with my insecurities on the subject either.

“Definitely not a myth.”

“Tristan, was the reason for the times you wanted to get it over with was because the sex was
bad
?” Jeff went on in a hurry as Brandon let out a “
humph”
of disagreement.

I could practically see Tristan roll his eyes under his lids and the disgusted look was back when he mumbled/growled his answer, “Mm-hm…
hate
boring sex.”

“Ah-ha! He’s saying
boring
sex is bad sex, so that means he still gets off but if it was boring, he’d say it was bad,” Jeff pronounced like he was Sherlock Holmes or someone.

“Okay, yeah…I’ve had boring sex but I still wouldn’t fuckin’ call it
bad
. And I would take boring sex over no sex any goddamned day of the week. I bet he would too… Hey Tristan, if you were given the choice between absolutely no sex ever again and boring sex any time you want it for the rest of your life, would you choose the boring sex?”
 

This time I felt bad for Tristan. Even with his eyes closed, he looked so dreadfully confused. He also kind of sleep stuttered, like he just couldn’t answer. But, eventually his face cleared and he did answer, rather decidedly, comically and at length,
and
with a self-satisfied grin to boot.
 

“I have no choice in a moo point…like a cow’s opinion, it doesn’t matter. Thunderdome will never be boring so I’ll have fresh battle scars when I die.”
 

Oh how I love my boyfriend for reassuring me on more than just one point while being wordy but vague at the exact same time! Mental happy dancing to mariachi music ensues! Jeff and Brandon were looking back and forth at each other and Tristan in confusion, and then Jeff looked at me, trying to decide if I’d understood the answer…which I totally did. All I can say is thank God for Ferb…

I could totally see it in Jeff’s eyes…I swear he knows that I know, but this is the personal stuff Tristan wouldn’t be happy with others knowing about, so I’m keeping my mouth shut. At this point, having not uttered a single solitary word to me about it, I doubt he’d be thrilled that
I
even know his subconscious sees us together when he dies. Jeff was just about to ask me what I thought Tristan meant, but before he could, Ferb bolted into the room from whatever hidey-hole she’d been in and in a silent blur of black fur, she launched herself onto Jeff’s bare calf, claws extended, and sank her teeth into his kneecap and then she took off again just as fast. The whole comedic feline sneak attack caused him to shout his terror and pain to the rooftop. Jeff’s hollering also woke Pete up.

“Whawasthat?” Pete asked in a sleep-slur, sitting bolt upright in bed, looking confused and still half asleep.

“Ferb, you little fucker! I swear to God, Camie…you and Trist better teach her some goddamned manners or one of these times I’m gonna throw her across the fuckin’ room!”

“You’d have to catch her first. Besides, you can’t teach cats anything and you know you love her,” I told him with confidence. He really does like her but I’m beginning to think she probably spends her waking hours coming up with new ways to terrorize him. I wouldn’t be surprised to find Wile E. Coyote type blueprints with a chalk drawing of Jeff thumbtacked to Tristan’s Wall of Infamy.
 

“Jesus, I’m tired… Aw damn it, Camie, do I have a mustache?” Pete asked, noticing the time and realizing he and Tristan had both tempted fate by falling asleep so early.

“Nope,” I answered with a guilty giggle that had him searching my face for clues.

“Okay, what have you guys been up to?”

Melissa and Kate came back in and I used that particular moment to turn my face from Pete’s so I could try to control my facial expression and keep it from giving me/us away. They were carrying ice cream sundaes so it wasn’t all that hard to do as I wanted one. Duh.

It didn’t work, though, because my sister’s voice floated up from the floor at the foot of the bed to rat us all out. “They’ve been questioning the Oracle sleeping next to you.”

“Magic 8 Ball? What’s he been saying?” Pete asked with barely amused interest and a yawn, knowing right away what she was talking about. By the way, I’m pretty much loving Pete’s name for the Tristan/George Washington game. I think it’s
way
better than 20 questions, would you agree?

“Well, let’s see… We found out he honestly doesn’t like to be on the bottom during sex, he sings along to ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’, he’d pick Camie over both you and Jeff, he believes boring sex is bad sex, which Brandon disagrees with, and that’s essentially it…oh wait, they also quizzed him on his knowledge about your party on New Year’s Eve and who gave you the hickey on your chest, that apparently is still barely visible,” Jill replied with a slight edge to her voice, further digging our mass gravesite.
 

I think Jillian’s irritated with us for violating Tristan’s as well as Pete’s right to privacy even though there isn’t an actual Constitutional amendment that guarantees anyone that specific right which she knows full well. And I doubt she’ll use the video I’m sure she took of this because Tristan was unable to defend himself during everything, as was Pete. I think my sister has some sort of warped code of ethics about stuff like that, but again, I could be wrong.

I swear Pete’s face paled though when that final bit of information penetrated his drowsy brain. “Uhh-huuuh,” Pete dragged the sound out while his eyes kind of darted from face to face like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Okaaay, aaand what did he say?” He asked cautiously, being clearly uncomfortable and still expecting that shoe any second.

“Oh, only that he knew you’d made-out with someone and that he has an idea of whom that someone is but he’s not sure,” Jillian answered from her position of invisibility on the floor.
 

“Huh. Well, that’s…interesting,” Pete said slowly. By the way, we’re all regarding him with more than just mild curiosity so I can fully understand his nervousness. I would totally be fidgeting around if five people were staring at me with intense interest like this.

“Mm-hm, but it was his answer to their question of who he thinks she was that was
most
intriguing,” Jill continued flippantly with a tone heavily laced in sarcasm.

Pete closed his eyes and I think he held his breath for a short moment too, and I honestly wouldn’t be surprised to find out that he’d said a prayer before saying, “Go on…”

“He said, and I quote, ‘All our times have come, we can be like they are…Romeo and Juliet, the last night of sadness’ end quote. Since that sounds essentially prophetic in nature and keeping in mind the close calls we’ve had in the recent past, the theories on his meaning were mainly related to your suicide and/or
our
imminent demise. So, I for one plan on saying thanks for that, because I’m sure the faint of heart in this group will no doubt be having nightmares tonight,” Jillian said, as if she could’ve been preaching from a pulpit. That is, if acerbic and biting wit was a religion.

Pete let out a laugh and that rare smugness was clearly written on his face again.

“You’re laughing? Because seriously, Pete, it kind of scared the crap out of us,” Melissa told him honestly. Maybe you had to be there to appreciate it, but we really were pretty freaked out by the whole thing. Especially if you
do
keep in mind the car accident and my more recent run-in with death.

“Hey, that’s what you get for goin’ through the wrong channels in an attempt to summon information that’s none of your business.”
 

“Well said, Linus, I happen to agree,” Jillian intoned, and that time, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who could hear the acrid disapproval in her voice.

“Well now you’re awake, so come on, dude, who is she?” Jeff asked.

“I might’ve before but I’m not tellin’ you guys shit now. Besides, like I said, it’s none of your business,” Pete replied and clasped his hands behind his head, the movement practically shouting self-assured arrogance.

“Oh come on, Pete…it can’t be
that
big of a deal!” Kate said, trying to wheedle something out of him. However, she herself told me when I first started school that getting Pete to pony up information he doesn’t wanna part with is an exercise in futility. And now, I can see where she was totally right.

“Nope.”

“Oh I fuckin’ get it,” Brandon announced like he’d hit on something.

“What? You get what? Do you know who she is?” Melissa asked excitedly while Pete remained exceedingly confident.

“Nah, I don’t know who it was, but the only fuckin’ reason not to mouth off about screwin’ around with someone is if that someone is butt-ass-ugly…so how bad was she, dude? Coyote ugly?” I found it funny that this was coming from a guy who’d been secretly sleeping with one of my friends while we were all camping together and Melissa is in no way, shape or form even remotely ugly. Here again is an example of how erratic Brandon can be. Seriously, it’s sort of unnerving.

“Eh, I don’t recall having to chew my arm off, but I
had
been drinking, so, who knows,” Pete answered with a placid shrug of his shoulders.

“Shit, dude, that sucks…beer goggles are the worst. I screwed around with this super fugly chick once when I was plastered, then the next day she came up to me and I had no fuckin’
clue
who she was. I didn’t drink for a whole goddamned month after that.”

“Oh shit! She was so ugly you were scared sober?!” Jeff asked and started cracking up.

“Picture Bigfoot with tits, dude…she was fuckin’ grisly.”

Oh my God! I remember him talking to Derek about the Missing Link at that football game! I wonder if Kate or Melissa remembers any of what he said…I might have to try to remember to ask them later.
 

“Ew, God that had to hurt!” Jeff said with tears starting to leak from his eyes. He’s the only one cracking up but the rest of us
are
laughing. I mean come on, I totally can’t help but laugh at the mental image of Brandon making-out with a Yeti.

 
“No shit. Come to find out she’s a nice chick, but…never again,” Brandon decreed and then he opened his mouth to receive the bite of Melissa’s sundae she’d presented him with.
 

“Hey! What about me?!” I complained with a laugh.

“Camie, it’s
your
house! Go make one,” Kate replied with her mouth full and laughed at me and my feigned hurt expression.

“Well, I
would
, but you try being pinned under him! I expected you guys to have a little more sympathy for those who can’t forage for themselves, you know?”

“What do you mean? He won’t let you go?” Melissa asked with a giggle.

I’d tried to get out from under him when the urge to pee struck a little bit ago, but his body tensed and he clamped his arm down on me so I decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Really, I didn’t have to go
that
bad, it was just a thought.

“Umm, I’m kinda thinking no,” I answered with a goofy grimace.
 

Tristan’s totally reminding me of a dragon again who’s keeping his princess locked away safe, except instead of using the door of that little bedroom at Mike’s, he’s using his body to accomplish the task. Honestly, I don’t mind at all…at least my dragon is cuddly.

OH! Holy crap! I bet
that’s
what I was sleep talking about the night of the car accident!

“Just shove him off you. It’s what I do,” Jeff suggested, causing us all to snicker at his unintended reminder of how he and Tristan occasionally nap together. “Go ahead and laugh it up, but until
you’ve
slept next to him, you have no idea what you’re missin’ out on. Am I right, Camie?”

“Actually, yeah, it’s true. But Jeff, you’re bigger and better equipped to shove him…he’s too heavy and I can’t even get my arms under him to
try
to shove. Besides, any time I try to slip out from under him, he tightens his hold on me,” I explained in my defense, hoping that maybe someone would take pity on me and just build me a damned sundae.