The Other Fish in the Sea (7 page)

All the girls except for probably Jillian were focused on my face awaiting my response to Julia’s apology, but I never really got the opportunity to accept it. I was totally going to do that too. I think. However, we won’t ever know because the rule-breaking bronco himself cantered up to us and tried to make the most out of my obvious hostility.

“Do I wanna know why you’re pissed or should I not look a gift horse in the mouth?”

Melissa and Kate started cracking up at the gift horse comment because there’s no way he heard us, which makes it that much funnier. Honestly, I probably would’ve laughed
,
too
,
except the green-eyed monster in me is trumping my funny bone at the moment. So I just stood there—wishing I had a bowling ball handy—while Bridget was
totally
checking out my boyfriend.

“Oh, she’s just out of sorts because our cousin here was thinking you’d make a better bunkmate than her friend there, who should really stop staring and drooling over you...it’s gross,” Jillian said, once again straight and to the point.

Julia and Bridget went beet red and were about to deny what Jill said, but their open mouths were without sound as they turned even more crimson colored when Tristan flashed them an arrogantly lop-sided smile, winked at them, and then the incorrigible tease actually
thanked
them!

“Thanks for rilin’ her up for me, I might owe you.” Seriously, he thanked them. See what Jillian and I meant about not being able to handle the reins?

I smacked him a couple times, which just made it worse because he sighed whimsically (yeah,
whimsically
) and said, “Ahhh, I just
love
foreplay.” Then he picked me up in the way that’s become kind of normal for us—you know, the backwards piggy-back way—and as he turned to carry me away he said, “Come on, Baby, let’s go fight and find out how much I owe ‘em.”

“But I don’t wanna fight,” I pouted and laid my head on his shoulder.
 

“Well that’s okay, Baby, we don’t have to fight…how ‘bout finding out what a phenomenal bunkmate I am instead?”

Good lord
,
he’s really frisky this evening. I’m thinking it might be all the exhaust fumes in the air. Either that or the sound of hundreds of engines being revved has him in a twitter.

As we made our way over to the bus, I could see MaryAnn and Melissa had taken to pointing out the available guys to Julia and Bridget, Kate had meandered over to Jeff, and Jillian had disappeared, being that her work was done for the time being.

Now I have to admit, I was tad-bit disappointed when we got to the bus to discover Tristan really was just teasing. I mean there was a little smooching in transit, but really, he’d been coming to get me because we needed to get Phineas and Ferb strapped into their new harnesses before dark. So we did that, then we affixed glow sticks to their collars and knotted the ends of their harnesses to a long piece of rope, which he tied up tight to the bus so they could explore but not run away. The glow sticks had been my idea
,
though. It’s what my aunts and uncles do for their dogs when they bring them camping.

You’d think being cats and all, they’d hate being tethered but really, it seemed like the girls couldn't have cared less. Also, I’m starting to think Phineas and Ferb aren’t normal. They purred almost the whole way here, which tells me they thoroughly enjoyed the drive. I mean at one point, Ferb even curled up on Jeff’s lap and drooled a little while he pet her! Case in point; even though most of the dogs here are well trained enough to be off-leash; I became concerned when a German Shepard named Luther bounded up to investigate my babies. I went to grab the girls
,
however, Tristan stopped me from scooping them up right away so we could see how they handled it. He’s been slowly introducing our cats to his family dog, Scooby—who actually is a Great Dane just like his cartoon namesake—and Tristan was sure they’d be okay if Luther didn’t go for them. I was still worried but I needn’t have been. Phineas, who’s like a dainty little princess, just sat back and let Ferb, who I think will be a behemoth of a cat when she’s done growing, give Luther a warning swipe of the paw across the nose. Then they both bumped and rubbed heads against the rather confused dog who just laid down in front of them and let them proceed to make muffins on him…you know, when cats do that paw thing. So you see what I mean, right? Sure, Luther might not be your average dog, but still, they’re so not normal cats.

Anyhow, after we did that and right before dinner, Derek’s dad gathered the
nineteen
teens for a quick going-over of the rules or lack thereof. And yes, the teens outnumbered the adults just like Derek predicted. In addition to my family members and our friends, there are four teens who belong to friends of the family who’ve joined us this year, so there are twenty of us if you count Jillian, which I do because she’s far more mature than a few of those present.

“Since we have so many newbies with us this year, we just wanna make sure everyone knows the camp rules so no one can say they weren’t told. Most of this is common sense but I gotta say it anyway… No one rides without a helmet, no one is to go riding by themselves and everyone is to be back here by ten every night before the last chords of the closing song are over…Ramsey Girls, do we know what that song is yet?” My Uncle Brett asked Jillian and me.

“‘Enter Sandman’,” Jillian answered. If you don’t already know, that’s by Metallica and in my opinion, pretty appropriate for an end of the day song at the desert. Kudos to my dad.

“Good. You kids can stay awake all damned night for all we care
,
but when the RV lights go out, be respectful and keep the volume down. For you early risers, you don’t start your engines until you hear whatever opening song DJ Jazzy K plays,” If it’s not obvious, that’s my dad. He’s played “Camp DJ” during every camping trip we’ve ever been on.

“He’s usually real good about hittin’ it right at seven but even if he’s late, you don’t ride. And that reminds me…there will be no complainin’ about our music. If you don’t like what he’s playin’, then you better find yourself some damned good ear plugs because our boy plays it all day and he plays it loud. If he’s in camp and you ask real nice-like, he might take requests but don’t hold your breath. Okay, back to the common sense stuff…

“Clean up after yourselves and if you see trash layin’ on the ground, pick it up and throw it away. I shouldn’t have to say this next one but I will because we know you do it, so if a drop of alcohol passes your lips
,
you better make damned sure you aren’t drivin’ anything including a sand wedge.” Just so you know, my uncle is making this speech from the seat of his dune buggy with a beer in his hand. “And if you end up with a hangover, then tough shit. Don’t come cryin’ to any of us…you deserve it.” I shudder at the thought…

“There will be no makin’-out in front of the adults…again, we know you do it and we don’t care, but we don’t need to see it. And this ain’t an underage brothel either, so don’t be doin’ anything that requires exchanging rings and vows…you can try but if you get caught, you’d better be able to produce a legally sound marriage license. Watch the swearing around the younger kids and remember, they make better chaperones than we do…those kids’ll turn you in faster than you can say Bob’s your uncle,” he said and at the same time, jerked his thumb at my uncle Bob, who’s standing next to him with his hands on his hips, nodding in agreement. “Anyone caught breaking the rules will go in front of the adult tribunal council where there’ll be a just and swift meting out of punishment. Everyone have fun but be safe…you all got it?”

There was a chorus of “Yeps,” “Yeahs,” “Got its,” and a couple very polite sounding “Yes, Sirs,” and then we disbanded to grab a bite to eat before going off to break whatever rule opportunity knocked with first. I say that because when we camp, the only rule the adults are really concerned with on a whole is the riding safety
,
which obviously includes the no drinking and driving. Like Derek said, they really don’t care what we do and basically adopt the theory that ignorance is bliss. Often times
,
the adults get more out of hand than the kids do, so they’ll be “responsible adults” by telling us the rules and then proceed to forget they’re adults themselves and totally let loose. It’s pretty funny actually. However, the younger kids
will
turn you in and if that happens, the adults are forced to follow through. If he were here this year
,
you could just ask my Uncle Bob’s son
,
Robbie. Last year he literally got caught red-handed with a beer in one hand, a girl in the other
,
and
with his pants around his ankles. His own little sister busted him. His punishment was no desert for the rest of the season and all of this one, thus explaining why he isn’t here this year. So again, like Derek said, you can pretty much do what you want as long as you’re not obvious about it and don’t get caught.

“So Jill, are you switchin’ teams this year or do I have to keep my wallet handy?” My cousin Parker asked.

Let me explain what he’s talking about. It kind of speaks to that part about the younger kids making better chaperones and turning you in for whatever infraction you’ve been caught doing. Naturally, with her skills and inclinations, there isn’t much that goes on out here that Jillian doesn’t know about. The trick is to get to her first for the opportunity to pay her off. And again, the only thing she won’t accept a bribe for is drinking and driving, which no one does except the adults anyway. The amusing part to me is, she has never once actually told on anyone…or planned to.
But
, no one else knows that
and
that’s not to say you should ever trust her. In fact, everyone assumed it was Jill who turned Robbie in. She’s still letting everyone think it was her
,
too
,
because Robbie’s sister is afraid he’ll make her nine-year-old life miserable if he ever finds out it was really her.

“Why? Are you planning on sneaking out of camp again to go mess around with slutty girls? If you are, you should know the economy has affected us all and rates aren’t what they were previously.” See what I mean? Parker was with Robbie last year
,
but he didn’t bring a girl back to camp with him
and
he ran into Jillian and bought her silence just to be extra safe.

“Shit. I really don’t wanna have to track you down every night so how ‘bout I just throw in an extra ten and you gimme a flat rate for the weekend?”

“Hmm. Let me think about that for a bit. I’ll find you before you take off and give you an answer then.”

Almost all the other teens who’d heard this exchange asked her to consider giving them a flat rate as well and it looked like Jillian was not only going to get a weekend off, but also get paid well for doing it. Among those taking a risk and flying by the seat of their pants
,
though
,
are my friends, Derek, MaryAnn, and me. I’m guessing that’s because none of us really plan on breaking the rules. Well, aside from drinking which we won’t do until after 10:00 anyway
,
and we’ll stay in camp and out of “public” sight so it really doesn’t count as breaking a rule. Oh, and
maybe
the underage brothel rule…but you and I have already discussed that so you know I’m still in the thinking about it stage of the game and
not
the planning stage.

So, we spent the first night of our trip being pretty quiet. Most everyone, adults, teens, and kids just hung around the campfire and relaxed while listening to the softer music stylings of DJ Jazzy K. After that, Brandon and a couple of my uncles strummed on their guitars and sang a bit
,
and it was during this period of time that I learned four things: One, Brandon is in a real band. Two, Melissa can actually really sing. I mean not like
American Idol
sing, but she can definitely carry a tune nicely. Three, I’m even more grateful her parents aren’t mine. And four, the four teens I hadn’t met before
and
whom I’m still rather unacquainted with
,
are the kind of Bible thumping snobs that give the rest of the Christian community a bad name.

Okay, now I know I’m not exactly the most exemplary follower of God’s, but I do believe in Him and I at least
try
to be a good person based on His rules. I just don’t happen to believe that God will look less kindly on me based on the kind of music I listen to or whether I have a tattoo or twelve, you know? However, I’m guessing these kids forgot that whole thing in the Bible that says something like judge not lest you be judged, because with one look at Brandon, they totally picked up the gavel and slammed it down in judgment. And as far as I could tell, the only reason they had to do so at that time was based on Brandon’s physical appearance.

I don’t think I ever really described him before, but Brandon looks pretty much like what you’d expect a guy who’s in a working rock band to look like. He has, actually, kind of pretty, icy-gray eyes and super dark brown hair that’s on the longer side in the middle because it’s still growing out from the Mohawk he had the first time I met him in October. His hair also perpetually looks like he just rolled out of bed, but it looks good
,
if that makes sense. He’s not especially tall and even though he’s not especially muscular either and his upper body is depicted with art that I gather wasn’t drawn on with Crayola washable markers, you can see he
does
have well-defined muscles—all of which was noticed when he was shirtless this afternoon. Both his ears are pierced two or three times each and there’s a
very
definite edge to him, like you know without a doubt that he totally walks on the wild side of life and probably always will. Like a dark, untamable horse. So yeah, he’s totally what I would call the epitome of “dirty-hot.” And yes, in my opinion he’s pretty damned nice to look at, although I do still get that “tread carefully here” feeling about him. But still…just because he might look like a hell-bound pagan to some, it doesn’t mean he is one.