Grievance: Volume 1 Page 10

  Tristin rocked back a little stunned by the force, but quickly recovered with a powerful smack of her own.

  Emmitt held his red cheek with an impressed grin. Tristin broke her hand free and spotted the open bathroom door out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t get one step away before he tackled her.

  The two rolled around on the floor, delivering one audible slap after another until they were both red-faced and squinting.

  “Time out,” Tristin said as Emmitt pinned her to the floor, looking a little too excited to have her between his thighs.

  “Conceding already? You really have turned into a girl,” he said.

  “It’s not that. I just didn’t want to bleed on you.” Tristin looked down at her pants.

  Emmitt jerked back on to his heels. “Ew, that’s disgusting.” He searched his shirt and pants while Tristin got to her feet. “I don’t see anything,” Emmitt said.

  He looked up just in time for Tristin to slap him so hard that his face bounced off the mattress before hitting the floor.

  “That was easy,” Tristin laughed and fixed her hair.

  “That was low,” Emmitt protested.

  “You fall for it every time.” She helped him up and looked over his face. He was so frail she couldn’t even gloat over how epic the slap was.

  “Can you blame me? I’m the one you were wrestling with the first time it happened.” He held his stomach. “I think I’m gonna throw up.” Emmitt laid face down on his bed and groaned.

  “Stop being such a girl,” Tristin said.

  “Bump you—you boy lover, and since you cheated you lose, so spill it.”

  Tristin flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Part of her really did need to get it out already before the questions buried her alive. “I don’t know what I want or even who I am right now.” It felt scary and relieving to finally say it out loud. Before Brian, Tristin could say with all certainty that Chelsea was it for her, but now she was having a hard time deciding who she wanted more.

  “You’re Tristin. Who you’re attracted to doesn’t change who you are.”

  “Tell that to Chelsea. I love her; I really do. I’ve just never felt like I did when I was with…him.”

  “That’s because there’s no substitute for the real thing.” Emmitt said as he turned to catch her scowl.

  “Do I need to slap you again? I wasn’t talking about that feel. I was talking about me. Mentally it was…I wanna say explosive, but it was different than that. Have you ever been with someone you just clicked with on this crazy level? Like the simplest act was magnified because you were doing it with...” She paused at the goofy look on Emmitt’s face. “What?”

  “Nothing. I’ve just never heard you talk like this about anyone before. I think you’re in lo—”

  “Finish that word and I will slap you again,” she interrupted.

  “Maybe you’re bisexual. I know people who go both ways.”

  “That’s not me. I love my girlfriend.”

  “Man, you and Connor are the most delusional people when it comes to relationships.”

  “Look who’s talking. How is Hannah these days? Have you dropped down on one knee and confessed your undying love yet? ‘Oh Hannah let’s run away and have pretty little half-breed babies.’” Tristin couldn’t contain her laughter, but Emmitt didn’t look at all amused.

  “It was just a joke,” Tristin said when Emmitt stood and stared out the window.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “God, you are so sensitive. Why don’t you just come back to school, or better yet, put some clothes on and walk over there?”

  “For the same reason you won’t admit that you have feelings for a guy. It would change everything.”

  Tristin was about to make a joke when she noticed his wheezing. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  Emmitt sat on the corner of the bed and put his head between his knees. Tristin scooted behind him and rubbed his back. The wheezing got louder, until it sounded like he was actually choking. She had never heard him make that noise before.

  “Emmitt, look at me,” Tristin said as she tried prying his hands from his face. When he wouldn’t budge she pulled at his waist. He fell to the floor shaking and coughing as he clutched his throat and Tristin immediately thought he was choking until he yelled out, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

  She didn’t know why or what he was talking about, but the way he struggled as if someone was choking him, it wasn’t hard to guess. It was worse than she feared, he was really losing it. Tristin managed to get her arms around him and hugged him tightly from behind. “You’re all right,” she whispered as he sobbed. “It’s okay.”

  Chapter Six

  Connor

  Connor didn’t know if he should knock or search for a spare key. “Kris, I’m here,” he yelled but didn’t get a response. He was about to knock when he remembered she had her phone and pulled his out to call her. She didn’t sound hurt when she called, but he knew from personal experience how hard it was to tell how Kristen really felt.

  Kristen opened the door and his mouth dropped. “Thanks for coming.” She was dressed like she was handling hazardous chemicals.

  “What the…how did you get free?”

  “I was never trapped. I just really needed your help and I figured a distress call would get you here faster.”

  “I cannot believe you!” Connor shouted. “That’s something Trist…” he snapped his mouth shut. Using schemes and tricks to get her way was more Tristin’s specialty.

  “You can say her name, it’s not like I’m going to fall out or anything.”

  Connor had left the promise of a striptease for this. “Did it ever occur to you that I might be busy?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said pulling him inside. “I just really needed help with this.”

  “You didn’t have to lie to get me here.”

  “Maybe not for you, but I know how your girlfriend gets about us hanging out.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. She told me to come help you.”

  “What else could she say?” Kristen asked.

  “Just don’t scare me like that again. Now what do you need?”

  “I need to swap the mattress upstairs with this one. You pull and I’ll push,” Kristen said.

  Connor smirked. Her two left feet would probably put them both in the hospital. “No thank you. How about you go get me some rope and a wire hanger?”

  Kristen looked like she was about to ask why, but she turned and headed upstairs instead. Connor used the free moment to text Noelle to see how long she would be.

  He quickly realized his mind was traveling to an uncontrollable place and forced himself to focus on Kristen. “If you don’t have rope sheets will work too.”

  Kristen returned with a stack of sheets and hangers, but she had changed out of her oversized sweatshirt and gloves. Her tank top wasn’t much longer than her mini shorts and what he couldn’t see wasn’t hard to imagine.

  What is going on today? Girls just felt too comfortable around him. It wasn’t like he was gay. If anything it was just cruel. Like showing a movie to the blind or taunting the starving with food.

  He turned his back to her when he realized his reaction wasn’t only in his head.

  What would Jesus do? Hell, Jesus didn’t have girls like this in his day or else he would’ve been humming “Amazing Grace” in his head just like Connor was.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Kristen asked.

  Connor squeezed his eyes shut and pictured the most nonsexual being on the planet, Big Bird. It worked every time. “Nothing,” he said turning to face her.

  He took the sheets and looked down at her top again, before wrapping one of them around her chest. “Now we’re good,” he said tying the corners of the sheets together.

  He didn’t look up at Kristen, but he could tell she was grinning. “Since when did you become such a prude?” she asked.

 
“Since you pulled me away from my almost naked girlfriend to come lift a mattress. Now take these two ends and go up to the middle of the staircase.” Connor lifted the large mattress onto the stairs and pushed it up behind Kristen.

  “I didn’t know you two were—”

  “We’re not,” he said cutting her off.

  “Thank god,” Kristen said sounding relieved. Connor paused.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked a little insulted. Kristen managed to forget most days that she was the one who broke it off with him. Maybe it was the fact that they were still such close friends, but sometimes she’d say things that made him think she still thought about the two of them.

  “I just don’t think she’s the kind of girl you want to be your first.”

  “How would you know what I want? And why wouldn’t Noelle be it? I love her,” Connor said defensively. He pushed the mattress upstairs until it bumped right into Kristen.

  “Okay, okay I hear you. You don’t have to run me over.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”

  “Well, I’m sorry I said anything at all. I suppose it’s really none of my business what you two do. I just think…” she paused as Connor used the sheets as a sling and pulled the mattress the rest of the way.

  “What?” Connor asked as he tied the sheets around another mattress near her bedroom door.

  Kristen was hesitant to answer, which meant whatever it was, Connor wasn’t going to like it. She only held her tongue when she had something bad to say, but he trusted her and valued her opinion more than his other friends, mostly because she always looked out for him. She didn’t have hidden agendas like her sister or single-minded views like Emmitt.

  He waited for her to finish.

  “I just think that you deserve someone amazing and I don’t see it when I look at her. Honestly, I never have. And I know I don’t know a whole lot about her, but I know you and you’re…” she paused again. “There is no one like you.”

  Connor didn’t know what he’d done to make Kristen think so highly of him. He was flattered by it, but also worried if he could ever live up to the squeaky clean image everyone projected onto him. There was only one person in his life who knew the imperfect and unfiltered Connor and that was Hannah. Kristen was right about one thing, she didn’t know Noelle and how amazing she was.

  “Look, I didn’t bring you over here to rag on your girlfriend and I didn’t mean to interrupt your time together. I’m just grateful that you came because I would have never gotten it up here without you.”

  “Anytime. And don’t worry about me so much. I’ve got a really good girl,” he said as his phone beeped in his pocket. It was a text from Noelle:

  I have to go help

  Dax with a project

  I’ll call you later

  Connor was disappointed, but at least now he had some free time to stop by Hannah’s.

  Chapter Seven

  Hannah

  The day had been surprisingly calm for Hannah. Sean had played a couple of hours of Halo before Hannah asked if they could just watch television. Video games weren’t the best idea when she was determined to keep him calm.

  “This show sucks,” Sean said, taking the remote.

  “We can watch whatever you want,” Hannah said even though she wanted to see the end of the movie.

  “How about we go out?”

  Hannah knew saying “no” would upset him, but she couldn’t leave the house. Just thinking about all the layers she’d have to wear, in the triple-digit weather made her sweaty. “I can’t,” she whispered taking back the remote.

  “Why not?” The sharpness in his words made Hannah tense. She had to think of something else to distract him.

  “I just don’t feel so hot today. We can play some more video games.”

  “You look fine to me.”

  “How about another movie? We could see what’s on pay-per-view.”

  “Hannah, why you don’t want to go out with me?”

  Hannah stared at him. He still looked like her Sean, but his voice was the other. It was hard to tell them apart anymore. “It’s not that…”

  “Then what is it?” he yelled.

  Heat exhaustion was better than nursing a new bruise. Hannah hopped up and rushed to her closet. “I’ll be ready in a couple of minutes.” She pulled off her pants and searched for a pair of jeans.

  “Hannah?” Sean said, grabbing her arm.

  Hannah tore herself away, falling into a pile of shoes. “Please don’t. I said I would go. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hit me,” she pleaded.

  When she turned to face him his eyes were locked on her thighs. She tried to cover them with her hands, but it was too late. Sean backed away until he bumped into the bed.

  He looked shocked. Maybe he needed to see what he was doing to make him stop. She wanted him to say sorry, or that he’d never do it again, but more than that she wanted him to mean it. He was definitely still her Sean.

  He rushed out the room and Hannah was trying to decide if should follow him. She crawled toward the door until she heard him coming back down the hall. Her mouth dropped when he kneeled, placing ice-filled towels on each of her thighs.

  “I wasn’t going to—” he paused and reached for her arm and Hannah looked down to see her concealer had rubbed off. He dropped the ice and bolted out the door again. Hannah pulled her pants back on and a sweater before running after him.

  “Sean!” she called down the hall, but when she got to the living room the front door was wide open.

  The last time he was distraught over her, someone was killed and she couldn’t take anyone else getting hurt because of her. She locked the front door, threw on some of jeans and a sweater, and grabbed a pair of flip flops near the garage door.

  The wall of heat hit her as she opened the garage and pushed her yellow moped down the driveway, but she was too concerned about Sean to let it stop her. She only wished she knew what direction he left in as she rode off, heading east.

  Chapter Eight

  Tristin

  Emmitt passed out after about twenty minutes, and Tristin figured he’d be thirsty when he woke up. She hurried out, loading up on drinks and junk food in case he was hungry too. She came back an hour later to find Emmitt gone. The water in the bathroom was running and her chest tightened. What if he was suicidal and she’d left him alone? She barged into the steam-filled bathroom to find him with a towel wrapped around his waist, brushing his teeth.

  “Can I help you?” Emmitt asked with a grin.

  “I…uh…have to pee.”

  “Don’t let me stop you.” He pointed to the toilet with his toothbrush before turning back to

  the mirror.

  Jackass, Tristin thought as she closed the door with a slight grin. He was fine.

  She felt silly for even thinking it as she filled the ice chest she bought to hold his stuff. Emmitt would never try to kill himself. If anyone should’ve been slitting their wrists it was Sean. He was the one who killed Ellie—not intentionally—but it was something he’d have to live with for the rest of his life.

  Tristin never imagined Emmitt suffering so much. It must’ve been why he was having issues with his mom. He could’ve hit his head during one of those episodes and no one would have known. The whole thing made her realize how stupid she was acting. She pulled out her phone and texted Chelsea to see if they could talk, but she put it away when the bathroom door finally opened.

  His face was red and he avoided meeting her worried eyes.

  “You still here?” he said crossing the room to his closet.

  “I went out to get you some stuff.”

  Emmitt glanced back at the cooler. “Thanks.”

  Tristin didn’t know if talking about it would make him freak out again, but pretending it didn’t happen wasn’t going to help him either.

  “How long have you had them?” she asked, staring at the floor.

&nb
sp; The clang of wooden hangers was his only response. Tristin knew he didn’t want to talk about it, but must. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I just need to know.”

  The air thickened with the silence between them. It wasn’t like Emmitt to be closed off or for the two of them not to have something to say to each other. Nothing was normal anymore, and as she watched him dress, it finally dawned on Tristin that it might not ever be again.

  “I can go if you want,” Tristin said grabbing her bag. She waited a minute for him to respond and when he didn’t she grabbed her key off the desk.

  “Don’t,” Emmitt said.

  He turned toward her with a long face that caused her to wrap her arms around him. She wasn’t really good at showing affection, so she held him until she started to feel better.

  “You can’t tell anyone.”

  “I won’t as long as you talk to me.” Blackmail was, afterall, what got her there.

  She took his hand, and they sat on the end of the bed. She could tell he was nervous by how tightly he squeezed her fingers.

  “I don’t even know where that one came from. They’ve never happened in front of anyone else but my mom and—”

  “What did your mom say?”

  “You know the Sergeant. She thinks if I go outside it’ll magically go away. I’ve tried Trist. I really have, but I never make it out the door.”

  “Maybe you need rest. Have you been sleeping?”

  “Only for like an hour or two. When Kristen was here I slept the whole night, but it hasn’t happened since then.”

  “I’m spending the night, and you’re going to get some sleep.”

  Tristin scooted back onto the bed and opened the cooler tossing Emmitt a bottle of water.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “I texted Chelsea.”

  “That’s good. If she was the first person you thought to text then that means something, right?”

  Tristin hadn’t even thought about it like that. Had she really figured out her dilemma with a simple text? Sleeping with Brian hadn’t changed her entire identity. Suddenly she couldn’t wait to see Chelsea and kiss her soft lips again.

  She grinned as she thought about the first time Chelsea kissed her. It was a definite answer to a question she had been ignoring for years. And to think, if that bottle had landed on either of the guys sitting beside Tristin, that kiss would have never happened.