his face faltered, and I knew I was starting to wear on his nerves. It was just a momentary twitch, but it was there and I now knew he could be flustered. It was a good feeling. “I don't like you, Tristan. At all."
"Oh.” He smiled smugly. “I know you like something of mine, all right."
"Really? I'd tell you to get a clue, but you seem to suffer from CDD—clue deficit disorder.” He was unbelievable. “I may not be as experienced as my cousin in California, but what happened there was special, and it had some real meaning. You—you make me feel like a sequel to some franchise you're creating."
It didn't cross my mind before I went spouting all that off that this was all news to Ryan. What he must be thinking...
"What do you think about this?” Tristan turned to Ryan. Okay, he was wondering the same thing, too.
"I think you're the reason the gene pool needs chlorine.” Okay, so that's what he was thinking.
"The two of you are pathetic!” Tristan snapped. “When are you going to realize when it comes down to it that you're no different than I am?"
"Excuse me.” I interrupted. “The proctologist called. They found your head.” That took him by surprise.
"You obviously can't appreciate me for who I am and what I have to offer.” Tristan stood up and actually had the balls to look indignant.
"They have names for what you are and what you offer, only they're not legal in west Michigan. Buh-bye now.” I stared at him until he turned and left in a huff.
"You really...” Ryan started. This was sincerely not the way I wanted to come out to my friends.
"Yes,” I told him. It was better to just admit it and get it over with. “I—"
"...slept with your cousin?” He looked completely repulsed. “That's illegal in west Michigan! I'd sleep with Tristan before I'd sleep with my cousin."
"Huh?” He hadn't put it together yet after all, and that meant I still had a chance to come out my way. I needed to throw him off-balance just a little bit more than he was. “These feelings are new for you, aren't they?"
"I hate you."
"Get in line.” With that, I turned and left, too.
[Back to Table of Contents]
7
My room was a fortress of solitude. Well, maybe more ineptitude than anything else, but at least nobody could bother me here. If Tristan followed me back thinking he was going to get another piece of me, I didn't have to answer the door. If he called, I could turn the ringer off and let the answering machine pick up. The easiest way to avoid any of this happening at all, though, was just to do what Miss Kim did and get rid of the body. Ah, happy thoughts!
I hung my jacket up in the closet and looked over at the answering machine. The light was on, and I counted off the number of times it blinked: four. Whoever called must have been really annoyed if they tried back three more times. Ah, they were so unsuspecting. I lifted up the top of the machine and pushed the button that allowed me to listen to my prerecorded message.
"Hello?” A few seconds of silence passed. “Hello?"
That was usually enough time to throw the other person on the other end off. Either they were stumbling to repeat what they'd already said or they were suspecting that there was trouble in the line.
"I'm sorry, could you speak up?” Now they definitely suspected trouble. A few more seconds of silence passed.
"Um, you know what? There's something wrong with the line. I can't hear you, but if you can hear me, why don't you hang up, wait a few seconds and then call back. Hopefully the connection will be better. Okay?"
They undoubtedly thought I was waiting for them to shout something into the phone in some vain attempt to let me know they heard and understood me.
"Great.” The caller usually hung up right after this, but I left a few seconds of silence on afterwards just in case they waited and heard the machine.
It was time to see who my victim or victims were.
The first caller hung up before the beep. Caught! The second
"Oh.” He smiled smugly. “I know you like something of mine, all right."
"Really? I'd tell you to get a clue, but you seem to suffer from CDD—clue deficit disorder.” He was unbelievable. “I may not be as experienced as my cousin in California, but what happened there was special, and it had some real meaning. You—you make me feel like a sequel to some franchise you're creating."
It didn't cross my mind before I went spouting all that off that this was all news to Ryan. What he must be thinking...
"What do you think about this?” Tristan turned to Ryan. Okay, he was wondering the same thing, too.
"I think you're the reason the gene pool needs chlorine.” Okay, so that's what he was thinking.
"The two of you are pathetic!” Tristan snapped. “When are you going to realize when it comes down to it that you're no different than I am?"
"Excuse me.” I interrupted. “The proctologist called. They found your head.” That took him by surprise.
"You obviously can't appreciate me for who I am and what I have to offer.” Tristan stood up and actually had the balls to look indignant.
"They have names for what you are and what you offer, only they're not legal in west Michigan. Buh-bye now.” I stared at him until he turned and left in a huff.
"You really...” Ryan started. This was sincerely not the way I wanted to come out to my friends.
"Yes,” I told him. It was better to just admit it and get it over with. “I—"
"...slept with your cousin?” He looked completely repulsed. “That's illegal in west Michigan! I'd sleep with Tristan before I'd sleep with my cousin."
"Huh?” He hadn't put it together yet after all, and that meant I still had a chance to come out my way. I needed to throw him off-balance just a little bit more than he was. “These feelings are new for you, aren't they?"
"I hate you."
"Get in line.” With that, I turned and left, too.
[Back to Table of Contents]
7
My room was a fortress of solitude. Well, maybe more ineptitude than anything else, but at least nobody could bother me here. If Tristan followed me back thinking he was going to get another piece of me, I didn't have to answer the door. If he called, I could turn the ringer off and let the answering machine pick up. The easiest way to avoid any of this happening at all, though, was just to do what Miss Kim did and get rid of the body. Ah, happy thoughts!
I hung my jacket up in the closet and looked over at the answering machine. The light was on, and I counted off the number of times it blinked: four. Whoever called must have been really annoyed if they tried back three more times. Ah, they were so unsuspecting. I lifted up the top of the machine and pushed the button that allowed me to listen to my prerecorded message.
"Hello?” A few seconds of silence passed. “Hello?"
That was usually enough time to throw the other person on the other end off. Either they were stumbling to repeat what they'd already said or they were suspecting that there was trouble in the line.
"I'm sorry, could you speak up?” Now they definitely suspected trouble. A few more seconds of silence passed.
"Um, you know what? There's something wrong with the line. I can't hear you, but if you can hear me, why don't you hang up, wait a few seconds and then call back. Hopefully the connection will be better. Okay?"
They undoubtedly thought I was waiting for them to shout something into the phone in some vain attempt to let me know they heard and understood me.
"Great.” The caller usually hung up right after this, but I left a few seconds of silence on afterwards just in case they waited and heard the machine.
It was time to see who my victim or victims were.
The first caller hung up before the beep. Caught! The second
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