Waves (Part 3)

Chapter 5


“Dirty, dirty little mind you have there,” Trinity crooned into Andrew’s ear. “What would people say if they heard you talking like that?”

“My reputation would be closer to my brother’s,” he joked, kissing her neck. He worked his way down her shoulder, dodging her tank top strap. Trinity pulled his face back to hers, impatient for more kisses on the mouth. Andrew chuckled quietly, and whispered, “You want me bad.”

This struck a chord in Trinity’s memory. It was obvious where Andrew had acquired his charms. Big Brother Trye. Not only did they look similar, but their romantic side was almost the same. Same lines. Same kissing tactics. Same ability to make Trinity crazy.

Andrew murmured some suggestions of what Trinity wanted. Some of the ideas sounded pretty good to Trinity.

“Do you want to…go to…to go…”gasped Trinity in between kisses. Andrew grabbed her arm, and pulled her up the stairs, into a familiar bedroom. She couldn’t remember if this was where Trye had hit her, or where she had found the notebook. They both looked the same, and Trinity was pretty buzzed. Not that it mattered.

The door was soon shut tight. Andrew and Trinity kissed harder, more savagely. Trinity was leaning over Andrew in an attempt to reach him better. The only noises were their matched breathing, and the hard pounding of rain through the open window.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Damn,” Andrew muttered. “Trye’s home.” Trinity sighed, and flopped back on the bed. Observing her torso stretched along his bed, Andrew twisted himself over her. Trinity was pinned between his arms, with his face looming over hers. “I don’t care if Trye’s home.” He bent down and kissed her again.

“Andrew,” Trinity scolded, pushing him back, gently. When he moved back to her neck, she couldn’t help but giggle. Somehow, she stifled her laughter, and put on a straight face. “Seriously, Andrew. Stop.”

Heaving a great sigh, Andrew rolled over. He continued to lie next to her. “You never let me have any fun.”

“You know—”

“What the hell are you doing?!” Trye halted in the doorframe. Trinity noticed that he was drenched. His shirt was plastered to him—which Trinity didn’t mind too much. “You know you’re not supposed to have girls in your room!”

“Neither are you!”

“Yeah, and look how he turned out,” hissed Trinity. She was shooting daggers at him.

Trye looked stunned. He didn’t think she was that mad at him. Of course, he didn’t know Trinity had found his “black book.” But, when he spoke again, he acted as if he hadn’t heard her. “You remember that huge storm that was off the coast of Virginia?”

Trinity remembered. They gotten one of the Virginia storms right after Trinity started school, and soon, there was a new one off the Virginia coast a week later. The Weather Channel had shown footage of flooded roads, and deluging rain.

“Well, guess which coast it’s off of, now.”

“Oh, no,” groaned Andrew. “How bad is it?”

“Let’s put it this way: I was using an umbrella when I walked to the house from my car. The streets are already flooding. The waves are huge.”

“I have to get home! I have to go! Bye!” She gave Andrew a painfully rushed kiss on the mouth. She hurried down the stairs and onto the porch. Before she saw it, she never would have believed it. It had been raining lightly when she had left for school. Progressively through the day, the rain had gotten harder. By the time she reached the Foreman’s, everything was looking waterlogged, and the lawn had big puddles full of floating grass. But now…damn. The streets were a river. Water flowed to the top of the sidewalks. It was hard to even see with the rain pouring down.

Nevertheless, Trinity ran to the TT. After two steps, her jeans were sticking to her, and her light blue shirt was soaked through.

“Trinity!” Trye shouted over the rain. He ran after her. “Don’t go! It’s not safe! You’re not going to be able to see! The tires can’t get traction!”

“I don’t care!”

“You’ll never make it! You live on the other side of town!”

“I don’t care!”

“You’ll get into an accident!”

“I—don’t—care!”

“Why not?! Why are you so set on leaving?!”

“Because I can’t stand to be in your presence, Trye!” Trinity took another step to her brother’s wet car.

“Is it about the party?! I already told you that I’m sorry about that! It was an accident! I was—”

Spinning around, she yelled, “It’s not about that!”

“Well, then what the hell is it about?!”

“I know what’s in your notebook!”

Trye stood, stunned. “Which notebook?” His voice had dropped, and was barely audible over the pounding rain.

“The black one. And I hate you! I hate you more than any other person I’ve ever met, Trye! I never want to see you again! Ever! I hate you! I HATE YOU!”


Trye wasn’t sure if Trinity was crying, or if that was just rain. He wasn’t sure if she was shaking from being upset, or if she was just cold. He wasn’t sure if the way she was looking at him was full of loathing or if the rain was distorting her features.

“Trinity—let me explain—” He took a step to her.

“Explain what?! What is there to explain?! It all seemed pretty clear to me!”

Trye touched her arm. He was sure it was tears flowing from her eyes, now. “Trin…”

“I hate you! Don’t touch me! I hate you!”

Every time she said that, it felt like someone was smashing a baseball bat into Trye’s body. He wanted to kneel over in pain.

“I hate you,” she whispered. She looked so tired, so weak.

“Trinity!” Trye and Trinity looked at the house. Trye could just make out his brother. “Both of you guys better get inside! The police’ve closed the roads, so I guess you have to stay here.”

Looking even more defeated, Trinity went into the house. Trye finally fallowed. He hated himself—his attitude, his actions, habits…he was a loser. No wonder Trinity hated him. This was the second time he’d hurt her, too. It would be the last. He made a vow. He would change.

Trye thought hard as he climbed upstairs. He put on dry jeans, and a dry t-shirt. On a whim, he put on a heavy hooded sweatshirt. In his mind, he made a joke about Trinity not being able to get to his heart if he wore more layers. It was feeble. It was futile, as well. Trinity had him, but she had no idea how much.

Trye heard the shower go on, and went back to the ground floor. Andrew was sitting on the couch, and Trye slumped down next to him. “I really screwed things up, Andrew.”

“What’d you do?” Andrew looked over at his brother in anticipation.

“You know my notebook?”

Andrew nodded. Then his eyes opened wide. “She found it? The black one filled with—”

“Yeah.”

“Trye, you’re an idiot. She probably thought—”

“I know.”

Trinity walked in, then. Her hair was wet, and she was wearing one of Andrew’s Nike t-shirts, and a huge pair of jeans.

“I feel like an ugly slob,” heaved Trinity. When she flopped onto the couch, she was half draped over Andrew. “Guy’s clothes and no makeup.” She looked down at herself. “Hey!” she exclaimed. “It’s just like when I was eight....Only now I’m taller…a little.”

Andrew kissed her forehead. “You’re so cute.”

“Eight-year-olds usually are.”

Trye hated that Andrew got kisses and flirting, while he got nothing. Trinity had never seen his temper. She had no idea what Andrew was really like. She didn’t know anything about him, except that he seemed like a good enough guy. She didn’t realize that he wasn’t worthy of her affections.

The thing that really confused Trye was how she could be like this around Andrew, and then be the same way to himself. Andrew was still in the dark about Trye and Trinity’s antics, but he wouldn’t be happy about them. Of course, Trye wasn’t happy sitting back and watching Andrew and Trinity’s deeds. They hurt him deeply, pressing into his heart, searing the visions into his mind. Trye would be able to recall them until he died. He was sure that they would hurt every time.

Unable to stand it any longer, Trye left the room. He thought it would be fun to have Trinity over. But, she was mad at him, and was being all mushy with Andrew.

Angrily, Trye pondered going downstairs to work out, but deemed it too tacky. It would look like he was trying to show off. That was something Andrew would do, just so girls could “ohh” and “ahh” over his muscles. But Trye’s muscles were bigger....No. He wasn’t going to stoop that low. What else could he do? He could go back in the room and massacre his brother. That idea appealed to Trye. Not very sensible, though. Probably would get Trinity even madder. Girls didn’t like it when their boyfriends got killed. He could go online and talk to someone. That would probably be the most logical. Although, killing Andrew did seem to have more pros.

He got online quickly, surprised that the phones were still functional, and nothing had fallen down via water weight or lightning. Usually that was the first thing to go in storms.

Glancing through his buddy list, he found that Tom was online. Tom had an odd screen name, but that was expected. Tom was definitely unusual compared anyone else. His mind worked differently, but in a good way. Trye decided to IM him, just to tell him that Trinity would be stuck at his house for the night.

Moooo: is my sister there?
Surfinglives: yeah
Surfinglives: she's downstairs macking my brother
Moooo: alone???
Surfinglives: and you really care?
Moooo: ok not really
Moooo: she’s staying there?
Surfinglives: yeah
Mooooo: unnnh
Surfinglives: don’t worry, she and andrew’ll be separated from now on, okay? no privacy
Moooo: thanx look i g2g my mom’s calling in 5
Surfinglives: don’t tell her that trin’s here
Moooo: derrr

Trye exited the Instant Message. He scanned the list again, and found Lindsay, his ex from Georgia, online. He smiled and started talking to her. As always, she got boring quickly. After awhile, her conversations just got…tedious. Trye bid her farewell, and went back downstairs. Since there was nothing else to do, really, he decided to take out a movie. The Foreman movie collection was extensive. But there was one area that exceeded all others. James Bond. One of Trye’s personal favorites.

Slipping the movie in, Trye crashed on the couch. He had one leg stretched out on the cushions, the other leg bent over the bench and foot on the floor, the way it was supposed to. One arm draped on the back, and the other arm on the armrest. He didn’t like sharing. Especially not with a love-struck couple. Blech.

The famous Bond music began, and Trye hummed along with it. His voice wasn’t all that great, but he figured it wouldn’t matter much. There was no one around to hear him. Since he was alone, he took great liberties. He knew almost all of the lines of "Goldfinger," and recited them. Occasionally, he would add-lib, his voice surpassing the TV’s volume.

“This isn’t as entertaining as when you sand along with Shirley Bassey,” cooed a voice at the door.

Mental head slap. Trinity. Of course, Trinity. Always Trinity. No one would ever walk in on him singing along and reciting to a James Bond movie—except Trinity. Trye dreaded turning around. It turned out that he didn’t have to. Trinity pushed his leg off the couch, and sat next to him.

“I love Bond movies. They’re so…classic. In each movie, you can see what they thought high-tech was.”

“Yeah, I guess,” shrugged Trye. “But that’s not the kind of stuff I think about when I watch these.”

“Let me guess. You think about the girls, instead,” Trinity suggested, a disgusted face forming.

“Nah. More like…his personal life. And I don’t mean the chicks,” he added quickly. “Like, does he ever take a vacation from being Bond? Or is he Bond twenty-four/seven? Has he ever had a steady girlfriend? What was he like in high school? Was he always that much of a babe-magnet, or was that one of the double-oh-seven skills?”

Trinity looked at him, oddly. Rightfully so. It was kind of weird to be thinking about his life so in-depth. He would be looking at him the same way. Trye shook his head. “Never mind. I’m just babbling.” And he wondered where her anger had gone. Did Andrew make her forget all about it? Or, was she really not mad at him anymore?


Dinner was silent for Trye. Andrew and Trinity chatted with their heads close. Andrew tried several times to talk to him. Trye gave grunts or one-word answers. He was too annoyed to say much else. Andrew gave up. Trye kept to himself no only at dinner, but all of that evening. He let Andrew do his thing, but checking on them periodically. He couldn’t let them do too much “thing.” But, obviously, Trye’s encounter with her in the living room had been due to post-macking happiness, because her cold attitude soon returned.

Late that night, as Trye was on the brink of sleep, he heard soft whimpers. They seemed to be traveling through his wall. The guest room was on that side, which was where Trinity was staying. Instantly, the worst-case scenario popped into his mind.

Would Andrew…?

Yes. He would. Without hesitation.

Trye leaped out of his bed. Quietly, he walked to his door, and stuck his head out in the hall. It was dark, except for the essence of light from the living room. One light had been left glowing to provide enough light so that the bathroom could be found. The rooms were all dark, including the guest room. This could be a good or bad sign.

Creeping to her door, Trye turned the knob. Trinity was in bed, kicking and moaning in the dark. No one else was with her. Trye thanked any superior power that might have been listening. Her whimpers occasionally formed words, and the thrashing increased. Trye strode into the room, and knelt next to the bed.

“No,” she murmured. “No! No!”

Trye shook her gently, whispering her name.

“No! No!”

Shaking her harder, he used a more urgent tone. “Trin! Wake up! Trinity! Come on, wake up!”

“No!” Trinity pulled away from Trye’s touch. “No!” Her eyes sprang open. Fear. They were full of fear. “No, no, no!” she continued to mumble.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Calm down. You’re awake now,” soothed Trye. “You’re awake. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Oh, Trye!” Tears welled in her eyes. “I was so scared!”

Trye embraced her. “It’s okay, Trinity. It’s over. You’re fine.”

“It was so real! Awful—it was so incredibly awful!” she sobbed into his shoulder.

He dropped his arms and sat next to her on the disheveled bed. She was still crying. Looking into her shining eyes, he asked, “What was it about?”

“They got you! They had you, and they were trying to get me, too!” she wailed.

“Who did?” coaxed Trye. He kept his voice gentle, trying to keep her calm. Rather, get her calm. She was still unbelievably tense and upset.

“I…I don’t know. Just…them!”

Trye took her back into his arms. She lay against him, crying. Her weight was so minute. It made her seem so frail that she was so light. Only, Trinity was hardly frail. She was a hardass. She had slapped Trye, and it had hurt. Feeling her muscles under him, they were just as tense as they had been that day. This time, they were tight with terror, and not anger.

“It was so scary, Trye, you have to idea.”

“Shh. It was only a dream. And it’s over now.” Trye rested his cheek on her head. “Calm down, Trin.” He rubbed his hand on her back in big circles. After much persuading, her muscles began to loosen. With that, her breathing was steadier.

“Thank you, Trye. For being here.”

“It’s no big thing, Trinity. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

Trinity looked at him. Gray eyes twinkling in the faint light from the hall, she had obviously melted since their last encounter. He was even surer when she placed her hand on his cheek, and traced his jaw line. Her touch was soft, and grazed his face like the tips of a butterfly wing. Definitely not hostile. Her body was still snuggled against him, and she was sort of sitting in his lap. Her other hand took his, and intertwined their fingers. Great—all of this touching and sensuality was turning him on.

But, even with all of Trinity’s affection, the thing that really clued him in was the kiss she laid on his mouth.

***

Trye recollected Trinity’s touch, kisses, and whispers. She had made most of the moves; Trye was too stunned to do much.

The way she had clung to him…it was as if she believed Trye was the love of her life, or something. That’s the only way she would ever touch him like that. Maybe he was the love of her life. But, what made her decide it so suddenly? And so fully? She had been all over him. Before, she could only tell him of her hatred, and now of her desire? Now Trye knew how his girlfriends felt. Confused, yet wanting more.

For so long after that first kiss that night, Trinity had cooed in Trye’s ear that she wanted him—and badly. He had kissed her, and she had kissed him. She couldn’t keep her hands off of Trye, and he had to discipline himself so he wouldn’t do something he would regret. Not that he would ever regret Trinity’s affection. What he did regret was that Trinity haunted his dreams that night, like no girl ever had before. The dreams made him think about how he couldn’t really have her—yet. After last night, she had better break up with Andrew, and let Trye make his move.

They all woke up late, to more rain. When Trye walked into the kitchen, he almost threw up. Trinity was sitting on the counter, and Andrew stood in front of her, kissing Trinity.

Trye was hurt and confused. What the hell was Trinity trying to pull? Did she think that he was just there to have wild, passionate make out sessions with at night? It had happened twice, now. Did she think that his feelings toward her were simply sexual attraction? Okay, that was part of it…but he was in love with Trinity. Had been since the second he saw her.

Before anyone could see, Trye put on his Face. He had used it a lot since the accident, and it was too familiar to him. The Face let no emotion out, masked hurt, anger, and disappointment. It was how Trye stayed tough. He needed to stay tough. You were weak, you got shown no mercy.

“Morning,” Trye mumbled.

Andrew didn’t acknowledge his brother’s presence, and neither did Trinity. He was sure that they had heard him, at least.

“Hungry,” she murmured. “Andrew, I need breakfast, now. Remember? That’s why I came down here.”

Andrew grunted and kissed Trinity again. She pushed hi back, gently. Kissing his forehead lightly, she hopped down from the counter. She busied herself by making herself breakfast. All the while, Andrew stood behind Trinity, nuzzling her neck.

He must have also been whispering in her ear, because she finally snapped. “Honestly, Andrew! Do you have to be such a sex-crazed maniac?”

“Honestly, Trinity! Do you have to be such a cold-hearted bitch?” swore Trye, mimicking Trinity under his breath.

He had a felling she heard him, but she didn’t say anything. Trinity couldn’t possibly still be ignoring him, could she? Trye was sure last night was some sort of apology. Was he wrong in thinking that? Maybe she was just toying with him as some sort of payback. Maybe Trye loved her, and Trinity was acting like she loved him back, just for laughs. It was certainly probable.

“Did you say something?” asked Andrew.

Trye shook his head, not even looking up. He didn’t want to have to look Trinity in the eye. She must have just been using him. Trye had done it himself; he knew how the game worked. One step forward, two steps back, one step forward, two slaps in the face.

“Something up?” pressed Andrew.

“Nah,” Trye muttered.

“You going into female withdrawal, or something?”

Finally, Trye looked at Trinity. Right in the eye. “No. Definitely not female withdrawal.”

Trinity looked confused, and a little angry.

“I'll be right back,” Andrew announced. Then he was gone.

Trinity and Trye sat in silence. In unison they both finally snapped, “What the hell is your problem?” Then, “My problem?”

“Yeah,” Trinity hissed. “Why did you look at me when you said that?”

“I don’t know—maybe it had something to do with that little rendezvous at one in the morning?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

She didn’t remember. She couldn’t. You can’t fake not knowing about a particularly intense meeting with that level of innocence. Trye wasn’t sure if he was hurt, or reassured.

“Is this more shit about you liking me? Are you just pissed off because you like me, and I’m the only girl who doesn’t like you back?”

“You have no recollection of last night,” Trye confirmed. “Then, no, it’s not about you not liking me. I’m going to go now. Enjoy your breakfast.” Trye left the table.


Chapter 6


“God, I love surfing!” screamed Trinity into the ocean breeze. She lay back down on her board, with her arms, legs and face touching the water. “Oh, I missed you, Ocean.”

Tom shook his head, but he had a big grin plastered on his face. He missed surfing as much as Trinity did. The two of them were in heaven. “Okay, enough bonding, Trin! You’re creeping me out. Waves. There are waves. And we’re going to catch them—”

“Flavin style,” they said in unison, and broke out into laughter. Years ago, when Tom had taught Trinity to surf, it had been a rough day. The swells were big, but not unmanageable. Trinity was having a hard time getting up, seeing as it was her first time out on the water. She sat on the board and watched Tom for awhile, utterly disgusted with herself.

Tom hated to see her so depressed, so he sat next to her, and tried to coax her into trying one more time for the day. Trinity had agreed, and they had paddled out together. Tom had nodded to a medium-sized swell, and Trinity nodded back, a fearful expression taking over her face. She had watched him carefully, and mirrored every move he made. Soon, they were both out. Trinity continued fallowing his body language, and they ended up surfing the whole wave about a foot from each other. After that, it got turned into a game. They would do odd moves getting up, and the other would mirror them. Then, they would mirror tricks, doing them at the same time, only a few feet away from each other. Trinity adored the game.

They both got up, copying each other. As soon as Trinity was up, she felt alive. The familiar feeling of complete enjoyment pulsed through her, and she relished in it. How had she lived so long without surfing?

Trinity rode the wave to shore, and went back out, completely forgetting about Tom. As she was up, she saw Andrew sitting on the beach, and Trye paddling into the ocean. Trinity maneuvered herself away from him, and vowed to not watch him. She had a feeling he was showing off for her, but she refused to look over, and acknowledge what he was doing.

After a while, she completely forgot about him, and was back into the world of the ocean. She was home. Her home wasn’t California, or Maine. Her home was the ocean. And she was there.

***

Where was he? Trinity had been waiting around for half an hour at Fazzio’s, the little Italian place Andrew had insisted on going to. She was getting very impatient and angry at Andrew. What could possibly be keeping him this long? Someone better have gotten into an accident, or died, or something.

“Hey,” Andrew said breezily, gliding in after one thousand and eight hundred seconds of waiting on Trinity’s part. “How’s it going?”

““Hey”? “How’s it going?”? You’re thirty minutes late, Andrew. What took you so long? Where the hell were you?”

“I was at the bookstore—”

Trinity groaned. “And some idiot girl couldn’t reach a book, so you decided to help her.”

“Actually, no.” Andrew leaned in to kiss Trinity. She backed away from him before he could. Unfazed, he continued. “I’ve already tried that. It got me a great girlfriend.”

Trinity made a face.

Andrew made one right back, and continued. “I had to get a book for my English lit class. I mean, I had to. It took me fifteen minutes of looking for it, and twenty minutes of the salesman looking in the back before we found a copy. I’m sorry.”

Trinity wanted to stay angry, but she couldn’t. The sincerity in Andrew’s eyes made her melt. She had to crack.

“Call, Andrew. Next time, just call me. You know my cell phone number.”

“You know mine, too,” pointed out Andrew.

“Hmm.” Trinity pulled out her phone, and read the numbers as she punched them in. But, there were no shrill cell phone chirps, nor any move made by Andrew to grab a vibrating phone. “Wow. Would you look at that? No answer,” Trinity gasped in faux amazement. “I wonder why? Could it be because you don’t have your cell phone with you?”

Andrew was silent. Big surprise. No reason to argue the truth.

The waitress came over then, and took their orders. They sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes. Trinity in silent anger, Andrew in silent embarrassment.

“Trin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you wait, okay?”

“I can’t—why don’t—you know what, Andrew? Whatever. Just…whatever.” Trinity took a sip of her drink. When she put it down, she traced the condensation with her index finger. It was a habit she’d had since she was little, writing little things, and drawing shapes. Eventually, the shapes would blur and drip, but Trinity would just start over.

“Come on, Trinity. Don’t be like that. Next time, I swear I’ll call. Please. Accept my apology.”

Giving in. Not something that Trinity loved to do.

“Trin…please…I’m sorry, I really am. Don’t be mad.”

“Fine! Jesus, I’m not mad!”

“You are, too,” Andrew insisted.

Trinity took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air that blew through her mind. “I’m not.”

Doubtfully, Andrew said, “Okay, do you accept my apology, then?”

“Yes, I accept your apology, already. Can we just change the subject?” But before they could, the food came. Trinity was thrilled to have a distraction. She concentrated solely on her fettuccini alfredo. Astoundingly enough, Fazzio’s made good pasta. Trinity relished in her first taste of the phenomenal gooey, cheesy, creamy…yum. Trinity was too busy enjoying the food to come up with more adjectives. So, maybe Andrew had been right about this little place.

“Trinity—”

“I told you that I want to change the subject,” she snapped.

“Okay,” said Andrew in a small voice. He chewed on his food. Then, an angry look crossed his face. “What about Trye? Should we talk about him?”

Trinity’s eyes opened in horror.

***

“You did WHAT?!” roared Andrew.

“Wha…? What’d I do?” Trye asked. He took a second to completely bring Andrew into focus. Staring at a World Civics book for two hours could really take a toll on someone’s eyes. It could also kind of scramble your consciousness.

“Trinity—she told me—you kissed her?!” he shouted.

“Andrew, I—”

“I don’t want to hear it! You’re such a bastard! What the fuck were you thinking?! Are you totally deranged? That’s my freaking girlfriend! You’re supposed to be my brother! What the fuck is your problem?! Why would you do something as stupid as that?! What the fuck is your problem?!”

Trye just stared at Andrew.

“Well?” Andrew prompted.

“Oh, I can talk now? I wasn’t sure. You were to busy having your little temper tantrum.”

“I’m allowed to have a fuckin’ tantrum! You know why? ’Cause you’re one shitty brother. I had to have the most fuck-happy, selfish, inconsiderate brother with the testosterone level of six regular guys!”

“I’m fuck-happy?” demanded Trye. “I’m selfish? They used to have this old expression for what you’re doing, Andrew: the pot calling the kettle black. Think about Amber. And Sarah. And Kayla, and Alex, and all the rest of them!”

Andrew took a step forward. “They’re completely and totally different.”

“Only because they contradict the point you’re trying to make!” Trye pushed Andrew back. Trye lowered his voice to any icy growl. “Get out of my goddamn face before I hurt you.”

“Fuck that! What were you thinking when you moved in on Trinity? “I want action”? “I think I’ll try and screw Andrew over”? ’Cause—”

“Give it a rest, Prep Boy. Your drama doesn’t do anything for you.”

“Or what?” Andrew stepped back to Trye. He was one of the few that could look Trye in the eye. “Or you’ll kill me?”

“I didn’t ask for this. So your girlfriend likes me more than she likes you. Suck it up and get your sorry ass out of my way.”

Smirking, Andrew asked, “What? Did I strike a nerve?”

Trye felt as if he was about to explode. He refused to snap. So, Trye did something totally new for him. Something that would have made Trinity proud and amazed. Something he should have learned to do a long time ago.

Trye turned around and walked out of the room.

***

“Hi, Tom,” moaned Trinity. She collapsed on the couch next to Tom.

“Hello, Steve. How does your zipper zip today?”

Rolling her eyes, she murmured, “Not now.”

Tom looked at her, with a semi-serious expression on his face. “Why? What’s up?”

“Oh, it’s Trye and Andrew.”

Furrowed eyebrows met in the center of Tom’s forehead. “What—are you dating them both, or something?”

Trinity knew Tom was joking, but she nodded, and admitted meekly, “Sort of.” Andrew found out that Trye and I had kissed while I was we were already together. He kind of freaked out.”

“Yeesh. Tough. But…I know what you should do.”

“If you say that I should become a lesbian…”

He tilted his head back and laughed. “It could help, but that wasn’t what I was thinking. You should loose Andrew and steal Trye from Sam. You could do it easy. You’re a million times prettier than her. Plus, Trye already wants in your pants.”

“Tom!”

Innocently, Tom shrugged.

“That’s stupid, and, besides, I’m not going to do that!”

“Hey, just because you’re the only one that can’t face the obvious…”

“And what, may I ask, is so obvious?”

“That Andrew’s no good.”

“That’s not true! We don’t—Andrew and I are together, okay? Not Trye and i. He’s too wild for me. Andrew’s sweeter, and nicer, and more loving…and less of a player.”

“Trinity Anne Flavin, are you totally oblivious, not to mention deaf?!” Tom sat more upright, and then his usual slouch returned. “Trye is the sweeter, nicer, more loving Foreman. His shell is what’s throwing you off, blond! Haven’t you heard the stories about Andrew?”

“You’re crazy, Tom. There are no stories. And if that’s really what Trye’s like, then why isn’t he like that around me?”

Throwing his hands up, Tom shouted, “I don’t know! All I know is that he’s a hell of a lot righter for you than Andrew is!”

Trinity jumped up. “That’s not true! I love Andrew, and he loves me! Trye loves Sam! That’s how it is! Can’t everyone just accept that?! Jeez!”

“Hey,” he murmured. “You came to me.”

Trinity whirled around, and stomped to her room. It was then that she realized that she had said that she loved Andrew. And that he loved her. When, in fact, he had never said such a thing. Trinity hadn’t either—and suddenly the word made her very confused and uneasy. Now that it had been said out loud, it sounded wrong to her ears. How could that be? Andrew was her boyfriend, and of course she should love him. She had to love him, because that’s what girlfriends did. They loved their boyfriends. If she didn’t love Andrew, then things would be a little difficult.

Trinity sat on her bed, and began to contemplate her feelings for Andrew, versus her feelings to Trye. After a while, she decided that it wasn’t her job to assess her feelings for Trye, seeing as they weren’t going out. Trye wasn’t a factor in this debate.

Lying on her bed, she stared at her ceiling. She studied it with such intensity that she was sure her eyes would fall out. Each little bump on her popcorn ceiling could be like a star. It could become a shape—ceiling constellations. Trinity had been so deep in thought about ceiling constellations and Andrew, she didn’t realize that she wasn’t alone until she felt pressure on her bed. Startled, she leaped up. She found herself nose-to-nose with Trye Foreman.

“No,” she insisted. “No! Trye, please! We can’t—you can’t—Trye, you have to leave, now!”

Trye’s faded denim eyes softened. “Trinity it’s not that bad.” His voice had gone husky, and a hint of his Georgian accent shone through, making him sound all the more delectable.

“Oh, it is, too! You know it is.”

“Honey—”

“Don’t you “honey” me! Face it, Foreman,” exclaimed Trinity. Her voice was sad, almost regretful. “There’s nothing you can do! I can’t…I won’t…I don’t like you like that. I’m with Andrew, and we’re happy. Please, just let it go.” But Trinity was lying. She could, would, and did like him like that. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t lie. What else could she do? Admit her feelings and run with it? No. She couldn’t do that. There were far too many cons to being with Trye, and not nearly enough pros to counterbalance them.

Visibly hurt, Trye took his gaze away from Trinity. He looked at the ceiling. The way he was studying it made Trinity think about how she must have looked. Suddenly, he looked back at her. He stood, towering over her. “Tell me, and tell me straight, Trinity: Why not?” He took several steps closer. “What did I do that was so wrong? I’ve done stuff for you—said stuff—that would never happen with any other girl. But, I told you because I trusted you.” Trye threw his hands down, finished with the wild hand gestures he had been using.

“That’s bullshit, Trye! You’ve told me nothing! I know this much about you and your past!” The increment that Trinity showed wasn’t much thicker than the width of one of her slim fingers.

“That’s not true—”

Stamping her food, Trinity yelled, “But it is!” Then, her voice dropped to a whisper. “But it is, Trye, You keep all of your real feelings buried deep inside there.” She placed her hand on his chest. There was a slow, relaxing thump-thump-ka-thump under her fingertips. “There’s this big huge wall built up between you and ever last single person. Even the ones who love you.” On the last part, Trinity locked eyes with him, but had to look away quickly. Trye’s eyes weren’t as guarded as usual. She could actually make out some of the emotions he was feeling at the moment.

“What wall?” he asked, stupidly.

“Trye, you know very well what wall I’m talking about. You wear this…face. Nothing gets in, nothing gets out. And you know what? Did it ever dawn on you that someone might actually want to see you? All of you? Did it ever occur to you that maybe she’d be careful to not hut you? Did it ever cross your mind that I might want to be here to help you through stuff? Christ, what did the world do to you to make you have to protect yourself so thoroughly? Please, Trye, I want to know! So far, all I know is that I don’t know enough. I don’t want to hurt you, and I never would.” Trinity sniffed back a tear that had escaped during her speech. “I want to know you. I want to love you, all right? But I can’t do anything unless I know…that I’m doing it for a reason. Because I’m tired of opening up to you, and then falling flat on my face.”

When Trinity looked at Trye again, she saw that his eyes shined even more than usual. “It’s not that simple, Trin,” he insisted. His voice was deep with emotion. “The world didn’t do anything to me that I can’t handle. And I think that the way that I handle it works pretty well for me.”

“Well, it doesn’t work for everyone else.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t.” Trye was against Trinity, and they both realized it was coming. Then, it came. The kiss was a tidal wave of emotion. Some drove Trinity farther into the kiss. Some made her want to stop. But she didn’t. The way Trye’s hand felt on her neck, pulling their faces closer, made Trinity melt. She let them touch from head to toe.

“Circles,” she mumbled.

“What?”

Smacking her head with her palm, Trinity repeated, “Circles. We’re going in really big circles, Trye. And this is where we always end up. This is where we started. This isn’t a good place for me to be—or you, for that matter. We have to stop.”

“I know that, but still—”

“Unh-uh! No way! Trye, no. No exceptions.”

Trye looked crestfallen. When he looked back up at Trinity, there was no denying the tears shining in Trye’s eyes, now. “Okay.”

“What?”

“I said, “okay.” I’m not going to go after you anymore, Trinity. I give up.” Trye moved back to her, and planted one last soft kiss on Trinity’s lips. Then he stepped back away. “Bye,” he whispered. Then, he walked out the door of her room. And something inside Trinity died. And so did something in Trye.

***

“Go away! Mom, I can get ready without your help!”

“But, honey, I just—”

Trinity struggled to lower her voice. “Mom, could you please leave?”

Alison put on a fake hurt pout. Being a snotty socialite mother, she could do it quite well. “Fine. If my baby girl doesn’t need me, then fine. I’ll leave.”

“Mother, I’m not giving you my sympathy, so you can cut the bullshit act.”

“Trinity! Watch your language!”

Eyeroll. That’s just how Tom sounded when he said it. “Sorry, Mom.” She didn’t sound sincere. She wasn’t. After awhile, her mother just got on her nerves. Trinity could only take so much.

“I’ll leave. Be down in the ballroom in half an hour.”

Trinity nodded. Alison slunk out of the room, her face still “hurt.” Trinity turned on her CD player, blaring the Donnas. She hoped Tom could hear through the wall.

Trinity’s father was having a big work party. It was for business, but he told Tom and Trinity that they could each invite one or two people. Trinity invited Andrew. Tom invited Trye and Melissa. This surprised Trinity. She had gone to invite Melissa, to find that she had already been asked to go by Tom. Then again, Trinity had noticed a growing attraction between the two.
Observing the contents of her closet, she decided that she had to look hot. She had to make Andrew go crazy. Not to mention, Tom had invited his very bestest pal, Trye. Trinity wanted to see him drool, as well.

Shoving her clothes to the right side of the closet, Trinity found her dresses in the back. Some were too formal, and some were too casual. Two dresses, a green and a white, were perfect. The green was longer, with peasant sleeves, and a princess waistline. Even though the hem was longer, it still came above her knees.

But, the white dress would probably be better for the males in attendance. The fabric was silky and lightweight, versus the soft cotton of the green one. Pastel watercolor flowers were splashed over the dress. The skirt was short and swirly, and the bodice hugged close. It was low cut, with spaghetti straps.

Hmm…wholesome or sexy? Schoolgirl or skank? Talk about a no-brainer. She had a boyfriend, after all. Since the white dress was so see-through, she had to use the flimsy built-in bra. It was worth it. Trye would drop dead in shock.

Trinity put her hair in hot rollers while she did her delicate makeup. She didn’t bother with nylons, opting for moisturizer. She opted for tame, tan summer sandals, opposed to her favorite sexy black heels. Taking the rollers out, Trinity marveled at her curls for a few seconds, and then went downstairs.

“Jesus frigg’n’ Christ, Trinity! You can’t wear that at a business party! At least, not to one not run by hookers!” Tom stood in the foyer, staring at Trinity accusingly.

“Can, too. And will. Watch me,” huffed Trinity. She marched into the ballroom with her chin up, and her hips swaying.

“Trinity, you look…” Alison started.

“Lovely,” her husband finished. Her father gave her a once-over. “Yes, that will do nicely.”

His positive reaction made Trinity want to go change more than Tom’s negative one.

Tom and Trinity sat together, trying not to get in the way, until the first guests arrived. The Flavin siblings smiled, and greeted each person. It soon got very tedious. They didn’t really give a crap about these people.

At six-thirty, their friends showed up. They all arrived at the same time. The two Foremans looked hot and very preppy in khakis and button-downs. Trye looked like he wanted to shoot himself. Melissa was in “a little black dress” that was truly little. Trinity thought it was so cute that Tom had a crush on her. She was so nice. Perfect for Tom.

Trinity leapt into Andrew’s arms. Even though she had seen him that day at school, it felt like she hadn’t seen him for years. Over Andrew’s shoulder, she saw Trye. He held her gaze for only a few seconds. The expression on his face when he looked away made Trinity want to cry. She managed to channel all of her sad frustration into the embrace with Andrew.

Slipping her hand into Andrew’s, Trinity went up to her parents, who were talking alone, quietly. Probably congratulating themselves on all the people in attendance. She stood behind them and waited. And waited. After hovering there for several minutes, Alison finally turned to them.

“Oh, hello, Trin—” When her eyes hit her handsome boyfriend, she smiled and her eyes widened in shock. “—ity.” The break in Trinity’s name was obvious and embarrassing.

“Mom, Daddy, this is Andrew.”

Andrew took Richard’s hand and shook it firmly. Trinity smiled as they talked small talk, and smiled even more when Andrew ran out of things to say.

Then, Alison took over. She used both hands to shake his hand, and she gushed, “I’ve heard so much about you!” Bull. She’d heard nothing about Andrew, except for maybe the fact that he existed.

Andrew smiled as her mother babbled to him. He didn’t say much, and he seemed bored. Her father looked twice as bored as Andrew. In fact, he was back to searching the room. After awhile, even Alison got bored, and resumed talking to Richard.

“Sorry about that,” Trinity apologized as soon as they were out of earshot. “My dad just doesn’t give a crap, and my mom is a psychopath. They just…you know…get to me when they do that kind of stuff. It pisses me off that they hardly even pretend to care. Why can’t I have normal parents that care too much?” She put her head on Andrew’s shoulder and willed herself not to cry.

“C’mon, Trinity. They’re only parents. Forget about them.”

Giving a stiff nod, Trinity walked with Andrew to the dancefloor. Older couples were dancing slowly in the old-fashioned way, with one arm around the other person, and hands laced together. On the other hand, Andrew had both arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Trinity wasn’t sure if she was comfortable dancing that close in front of her dad’s coworkers. She didn’t like him all that much, but she didn’t want to ruin his reputation at work by having a slutty daughter.

“What?” Andrew asked as Trinity moved back a little. They were still dancing plenty close, but you could at least tell that they were two different people, not one big blob.

“My dad’s trying to make a good impression, and I don’t want to come off—”

Disgust enhanced the furrow in Andrew’s forehead. “So, even after your father is a jackass to you, you’re still—”

“Don’t’ call my father a jackass!” Fire flashed in Trinity’s eyes. Her body had gone rigid. “Just because I say that doesn’t mean that you can! You don’t know shit about my father!”

“I didn’t know—”

“Well, I guess now you do, don’t you?” They danced in silence until Trinity hissed, “I have to go get something to drink.”

“Do you want me to get it for—”

“I can get it myself.” Her cold intensity made Andrew back off almost instantly. Her anger seethed through her. He was so incredibly out of line.

Trinity got a Sprite from the bartender, and went to the side of the room far away from Andrew to cool off. The cold iciness of the soda waned her anger to nothing. After she emptied the glass, she moved to return it. Before she could get far, she saw Melissa and Tom dancing, and didn’t want to ruin their moment of quiet whispers by getting caught looking angry. She’d have to explain about the argument, and that would get her mad all over again.

Since they were only a few feet away, Trinity could hear their conversation, even though her voice was hushed, as if she was afraid someone would hear. “He’s had so many girlfriends,” Melissa said. “I’m surprised she’s still with him.”

“I don’t think she knows. But…how is that possible? If he’s gone out with that many girls—like that, anyway—why hasn’t she ran into any of his exes?” Tom inquired.

Melissa took several seconds to think. Trinity grew impatient. Were they talking about Sam? Sam knew about Trye, didn’t she? How could you not?

“Well…Amber was his girlfriend freshman year. He went out with her for about…four months? He messed with her head a lot. Then, he started cheating on her, and broke up with her. Her family moved to New York a little after that. Her grandmother died, or something, and they inherited the house. Sarah was with him for the rest of the year. She was my friend, so I know a lot about him and her. He took her virginity, and used the same type of mind games on her as he did on Amber. Mental abuse, you know? He made her think things that weren’t true. Her friends were evil, she was too good for them, he was too good for her…stuff like that. I finally got her away from him. Sarah’s mom found out and put her in St. James.”

“A Catholic school?”

Melissa nodded. “An all-girl Catholic school.”

“Yeesh.”

“Yeah. In sophomore year, he was pretty quiet, because of what happened to Trye. But, he still went from girl to girl, weaning her away from her friends, and breaking their hearts. He has an incredible way with words. Not many of the girls mention what he did, because no one wants to admit that they got played like that. And he would seriously play them.”

“He had sex with all of them?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I’m assuming.”

“And no one exposes him.”

“No one exposes him. And, once girls find out about Andrew, they won’t come near Trye. It’s like, I don’t’ know, they think it’s a Foreman thing. But Trye would never hurt any girl like that. That’s the difference between the two of them—Andrew hurts girls for the fun of it—because he can. He gets them emotionally, and then screws them over on purpose. Trye can’t get into an emotional relationship. Everyone thinks he has sex, but he doesn’t. I don’t know how that rumor got started, but it never got stopped. From what I’ve heard from him, he can only get so far, and then he breaks up with them.”

This took quite a few minutes to sink into Trinity’s brain. Andrew. Melissa was reciting Andrew’s history. Not Trye’s.

To be continued...

Waves (Part 4)  (18+) Classic (sorta) story of hate, love, and misunderstanding. (Continued) #720748 by JessB, Architect.