Waves (Part 4)

Chapter 7


“Anyway, the last girls Andrew went after before he started going out with Trinity were Alex and Kayla. Alex graduated last spring, and Kayla was a summer fling from the public school—”

“No—Andrew was playing Trinity last summer?” Tom looked so angry, Trinity was sure his heart was about to explode, because of how fast his blood was pounding. Trinity wasn’t much happier. As a matter of fact, she was about to boil over, herself.

“Yeah. I…she’s…he’s already messing with her. I can see it in the way she acts around him. He isn’t doing that much, though, because Trye is interested in her, and Andrew probably figures that if he screws up, she’ll just run to Trye. And, we all know that Trye can be a very scary person.” Melissa looked down. “He keeps a black notebook. It’s full of ratings and rantings about the girls he’s been with—any and all of them. Trye says he’s looked through it. He says it’s sickening.”

“That...”

Trinity didn’t hear what Tom said. No longer was her anger containable. She set the glass down on the first thing she saw, never looking away from Andrew. She didn’t look to see if Melissa and Tom saw her. Her heart pounded harder with each step. No wonder it had seemed that they were trying to keep people from hearing. They were. And it wasn’t just to keep it from people—it was too keep it from Trinity. But she had. And she was glad. Glad, glad, glad. Trye was right all this time. He hadn’t just been feeding her lines. It had been the truth.

As in Pride and Prejudice, it seemed that one man had all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it. And, it turned out that Trye was Mr. Darcy, and Andrew Mr. Whickham. Deceiving, cheating, lying, despicable Mr. Whickham.

Damn.

How could she be so stupid? Easy. She looked at the obvious gossip floating around the surface of the school, but never bothered to dig any deeper. She didn’t bother drying to find out about Andrew at all. She was such an idiot! Such a shallow, presumptuous idiot!

The sight of Andrew leaning against the wall so casually, chatting with his brother, made Trinity want to rip his eyes out. She didn’t want him anywhere near Trye. He wasn’t good enough to be anywhere near Trye. His brother…Trinity was too angry to even be able to come up with words.

However, the realizations that occurred in Trinity’s brain didn’t take words. They just…happened. She almost slapped her forehead. That’s why Trye had agreed to stop chasing her. He couldn’t get close to anyone, and he was getting the hell scared out of him. He was getting close to Trinity. Which meant that he genuinely liked Trinity. Which meant that she’d been throwing her and Andrew in his face for weeks…and actually hurting him. She was such a bitch! Damn, damn, damn!

When she looked at Andrew, Trinity could have strangled him. “We need to talk,” she announced clearly. “NOW.”

Andrew smiled. Actually smiled. “Yeah. Why don’t we go outside?”

“Sure.” Andrew walked to the door, but Trinity was rooted to the spot. “No witnesses outside,” she reminded herself aloud. Trye gave her a funny look. When she spoke next, she tried to sound soft and sincere. It was hard, because rage still churned her stomach. “I’m going to have to talk to you, too, Trye.” She ran outside without waiting for his answer.

“Andrew,” she started. They were on the beach. The sun still hung over the ocean, but was starting to dip into the water. “This is really important.” She had to gauge her voice so she sounded normal.

“First, I have something important to tell you,” he confessed. He took a deep breath, and murmured, “I love you, Trinity.” He exhaled, as if some burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

Trinity’s anger flared. “Bastard,” she whispered. “I hate you!”

“What? Trinity did you hear me? I—”

“Yeah, I heard you! I’m not deaf, Foreman! If anything, I was blind, because I let you get to me.”

Andrew didn’t seem to acknowledge the latter statement. “Why do you hate me? Don’t—don’t you love me?”

“I could never love you.”

“Is this because of Trye? Did he do something?”

“Sure, assume Trye did something, because no girl could ever resist you! Oh, you’d love it if you could blame it on Trye. For your information, he has nothing—”

“Is it because you love him, or something?!” Andrew burst.

“That’s something completely different! That has nothing to do with this! You got into this by yourself!”

Andrew looked like he wanted to punch something. Trinity prayed he wouldn’t hit her. “GODAMMIT! I fucking telling you that I love you, and you’re telling me that you have a thing for Trye?!”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you! Oh, and this—” Trinity stood tall, and got as close to Andrew as she could without being tempted to kill him. “I know, Andrew. I know it all. I know the black notebook I found was yours. I know you mess with girls’ minds. I know you hurt people for fun. And everyone will know that you’re such a jerk. Ever girl I meet. I’ll have it from L.A. to Montreal. It’s over, Andrew. And you didn’t screw me—I screwed you.”

“You don’t know him, Trinity! Trye’s got a lot of skeletons in his closet! One is real!”

Trinity turned around. She was already halfway to the house.

“Yeah, that’s right! Your darling little Trye friggin’ killed a guy!”

“You’re such a liar! I never want to see you again! Leave! Get away! Never come near me again!”

“It’s the truth, Trinity! Ask anyone! Trye is a MUR-DUR-ER!”

Trinity ran to the door as quickly as she could. She had to find Melissa. She would sort things out. Melissa would be able to tell her that Andrew was just deranged.

But what did she say before?... “Because of what happened to Trye.” And you know what that means? It means something big happened sophomore year. And murder is pretty big. Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait! If Trye killed someone, he wouldn’t still be in school! He would have gotten kicked out! He’d be in juvie till he was sixty! Trinity’s mind was thoroughly confused.

Melissa wasn’t in the ballroom. Trinity had looked for at least fifteen minutes, and that was the only clear thing to Trinity. Was it possible that she was upstairs? Would Tom have brought her up? She hadn’t seen Tom, either. The more she considered it, the more likely it seemed. All she knew was that if she caught the two of them having sex, she’d have to kill herself. She didn’t need that image burned into her skull for fifty years.

Trinity slunk out of the room and into the foyer. Without the adult chatter, it seemed so quiet. Eerie. She went up the main stairs, then the second flight of stairs, all the way to the third floor. She turned left, bypassing her parents’ suite. There was no way Tom would set foot in there. Trinity walked down the hall, and checked the guest rooms, which were empty. So was the bathroom, and, to her relief, her room. The only rooms left were Tom’s room and the Psycho Room. Not using her better judgment, but her impatience, Trinity threw Tom’s door open.

Nothing. Well, except for a huge mess. She should have realized that Tom would never want to show a girl something that would tarnish her view of him. So, Trinity turned to the last room. The Psycho room didn’t have a bed, at least. Sex was unlikely. Not impossible, but unlikely.

Relief flooded Trinity when she saw that Melissa and Tom were cuddled on the couch, watching a quiet movie. They looked startled at her sudden arrival. They also looked fully clothed.

“Melissa—I have to talk to you—now,” said Trinity, urgently.

Alarmed, Melissa stood. “What? What happened?”

“Trye—I need to know about Trye.”

“What about him?” Melissa asked, looking a little nervous.

“What happened sophomore year? Did he—” Trinity had to force the last words out. “Kill someone?”

Melissa was silent. She sank back to the couch. She took a deep breath. “Trinity, I knew that I’d have to tell you sometime. I guess I’ve just been procrastinating. If you’re sure you want to know, I’ll tell you.”

Trinity stood, thinking. No longer able to hold herself up, she collapsed into a soft chair. When she looked at Melissa, she nodded. “I want to know.”

Tom finally sat on the couch next to Melissa. There was space between them, but not much. Trinity had to force herself to swallow.

“First thing that you should know is that this is my fault. All of the stuff with Trye—him jumping from girl to girl without emotional involvement…him not telling anyone anything, his attitude towards love, the drugs…they’re all brought on by me. I want you to listen really carefully and not interrupt, okay?”

Trinity and Tom nodded.

“Well, here it goes,” sighed Melissa.

***

When Trye was fifteen, he was still perfectly innocent. Well, not perfectly, because he was still a teenage boy, but relatively innocent and inexperienced. He had never “been” with a girl, but had had a few girlfriends. None of them had gone much past making out.

At fifteen, Trye also had a girlfriend. A real, steady, girlfriend. They spent time together at school, and went on dates on the weekends, always ending with an awkward goodnight kiss. They’d been going out for eleven months. Her name was Melissa Blendough.

Melissa had an older brother, Matt. He was a junior, and easily the most popular guy in Willaimson Academy. He was handsome, smart, and laid-back. Trye struggled to be just like him. Trye thought Matt was the coolest, best person he’d ever met. Matt thought Trye was pretty cool, for a sophomore, and would invite him to hang out with the cool juniors.

The “cool” juniors—soon-to-be seniors—weren’t the traditional cool. They didn’t play sports. They didn’t listen to the school rules. They weren’t all about sex. They weren’t all about drugs. They were all about individuality, which was probably why they were so worshiped. They were just themselves. That was the most amazing thing a high school teenager could be. Trye easily picked up their attitude, as well as their music and slang.

One night, in the heat of August, Trye and Melissa gave themselves up to each other. Neither of them meant for anything to happen. Trye’s house had been empty of parents and siblings. They had started innocently enough, cuddling. Quickly, they had progressed to kissing. The kisses had escaladed, and clothes came off. After that…their bodies had taken over, and they were in Trye’s room with the door closed.

Days after, Trye began to suspect that Melissa had told Matt of their escapade. He seemed colder towards Trye, bordering hostile. His expressions became hard, and his jaw always seemed to be set firmly. Trye could understand Matt’s anger. He had just taken his sister’s virginity. But, she had taken his, as well.

Two weeks before Trye and Melissa’s sophomore year started, there was a huge bash. It was the biggest party Trye had ever seen. The house was huge, and on the beach. There had to have been five hundred people in attendance. There was a keg in almost every room.

Melissa and Trye stuck close together on the ground floor. They were joined at the hip. Or, more accurately, the lips. Not once did they leave one another. But, Matt had watched them from a distance, downing beer after beer. He got angrier with Trye after each gulp.

Finally, Matt snapped. He stalked over to the couple, and ripped Melissa from Trye. “Get off my sister, bastard!”

Taken aback, Trye stood still. “What’s wrong with you, Matt?” Anger started to creep into his voice. Even then, his temper was short.

“What’s wrong, Foreman, is you! I’ve watched you make out an’ use my sister for weeks—”

“How have I used her?” he demanded.

“You’ve—you’ve—well—you just have!” Matt’s face grew red. He was so smashed. He turned to Melissa. “You’re too good for this loser. Let’s go.” He grabbed her arm and tried to pull her away. Trye got in his path, and pulled Melissa back to him. She looked torn.

“Don’t, Trye,” she murmured. “Just walk away. Just turn around and walk away. He’s drunk off his ass. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“I do too know!” shouted Matt. “And I don’ want that fucking bastard anywhere near you, Melissa! I’d rather die ’en see you two together!” Seeming to forget about taking Melissa, Matt went out the closest exit, wobbling.

Trye realized what he was doing. Where he was going. He had the keys to his red Honda out and ready. Trye chased after him. The cool air mixed with the scent of grass felt good on his hot face. Can’t concentrate on that. The Honda. Have to find the Honda, he thought.

At last, Trye spotted it. Engine humming in his ears, Trye ran to the car.

“Stay back!” Matt shouted. “Get away before I run you over, you asshole!”

“Matt, get out of the car!”

As reply, Matt gunned the engine.

“Matt, you can beat the shit out of me if you want, but get out of the car!”

“Go fuck yourself!” Matt bellowed.

“Matt, I’ll stay away from Melissa until the end of the world if you want me to, as long as you get out of the car! You’re way to drunk to be driving. Melissa wouldn’t want you to drive!”

“You dunno what she wants! You dunno nothing!” His slurs were becoming more apparent as time wore on, and his grammar was deteriorating.

“He does too know what I want! Please, Matt. If you don’t want me to see him, fine! Just give me the damn keys!” Melissa screamed at her brother. She realized that he was too drunk to be able to drive, as Trye had. She played along with his claim that they wouldn’t see each other, both knowing that Matt was too drunk to be able to remember what had been said.

“No! You’ll fuck ’er again, bast’rd! Tha’s what you’ll do! I hate you, an’ I don’ wanna be near you anymore!” Before either of them could do anything, Matt floored the gas. He shot off quicker than anyone could have imagined.

Matt tilted his head back, and let out a wild howl of laughter.

Melissa clapped her hand over her mouth. Her voice came out muffled when she murmured, “Oh, God, Trye!” with wide eyes. Trye turned to watch the Honda speed away. Its taillights flashed red, indicating that the brakes had been slammed on. The car jerked to a stop.

Trye took off running. Melissa was right behind him. His strides were longer and faster than hers. He got to the red car first. Even though Trye was the first one there, he was already too late.

Matt was slumped over the wheel. He wouldn’t have to live with seeing Trye and Melissa together. He got his wish. Mathew Blendough was dead.

***

“And ever since then, he’s blamed himself for Matt dying, because he was leaving to get away from Trye. We sort of broke up after that. He was too…scarred—emotional. He was having a hard time with breathing, let alone having a girlfriend. And the girlfriend of the guy who had just died…Trye hasn’t been serious about a girl since then,” concluded Melissa. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Well, until you came along, Trin.”

“Me?” she whispered.

Melissa nodded. “Of course, you! You know he loves you. I’ve…I haven’t seen him this happy since we were together. And…I think you love him, too. And, I think you should tell him.”


“Christ, does she hate you,” Andrew sang to his brother. Trye was scanning the room for Trinity. He was curious about what Trinity wanted to talk about, and he hadn’t seen her in quite a while.

When he heard Andrew, Trye’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Oh yeah. Did you see her come in here?”

“Well…yeah. And now she’s…”

“Gone?” Andrew chuckled. “I’ll bet.”

Trye squeezed his eyes shut, and massaged the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. Pounding pulsated in his head, and a headache was emerging. “What happened? Did she say something? Just now?”

“Yeah. We were talking, and—somehow—the conversation turned to you. The girl exploded! She was ranting and raving about Tiffany, and Sam, and you at school, and you at her house…it wasn’t pretty,” admitted Andrew.

“Dammit.” Trye scratched his head. It wasn’t an itchy scratch. It was a rough scratch, like he was trying to get through his skull with his fingernail. “Do you know where she is?”

“No.”

“Dammit,” Trye muttered again. A thought struck him. “Wait—why did she have to talk to you, anyway?”

Andrew was flustered for a moment. “Misunderstanding.”

Trye nodded, but was clueless. He figured that it would be more painless to let Andrew tell what he wanted to tell. Andrew wasn’t the one to have a lengthy fuse, either. In reality, it was dangerously short. Shorter than Trye’s.

Still, Trye was confused. Trinity had seemed really mad at Andrew. She had made a comment about there not being any witnesses. Not exactly a claim of a happy girlfriend. But, what did Trye know? It became more and more apparent that when it came to Trinity, he knew nothing.

“Trye, I think you should get out of here before she comes back. She was really mad. And you know how Trin gets when she’s mad…”

Trye nodded. Did he ever. Trye was all too familiar with that telltale temper. “Tell Tom that I said, “Bye,” okay? I’m gonna go home. Surf or something.”

Andrew nodded, and bid his brother farewell.

Trye got out of the house as quickly as possible. As soon as he was on the beach, he took off his shoes and socks. The sand on his bare feet was refreshing. It was cool, and the air was warm. He couldn’t wait to get into the water. The waves. They were huge. Trye loved to surf at night. He felt ever more connected with the water.

After walking a descent stretch of beach, Trye saw his house. He sprinted the rest of the way. He had to get his adrenaline going. Surfing was better if he was already hyped up.

Trye put on his bright swim trunks from PacSun. He decided against a wetsuit top, considering that the water was above sixty-five. It was bulky, and it separated him from the water more than he liked. Leaving all of his nice clothes in a pile on the floor, he grabbed his board and left.

Paddling out, Trye’s mind started to clear. He was just concentrated on getting past the waves to a calmer spot, where it would be easier to catch the waves. Then, she changed his mind, and paddled horizontally, to a very rough area. He wanted a challenge. No easy stuff. A huge swell started behind him. Trye turned the bard around, and got into position. He paddled, and waited.

Come on, come on, come on! he thought. Then, the board started to lift underneath him. He paddled like mad, and jumped up. Yesss! Success. Riding the waves, Trye navigated with his feet, turning left, looping right. He rode all the way to short, and went again. And again. After about six times, he found the Flavin mansion to his right.

Damn it. But the waves were so much better here…

Oh, screw it. If he wanted to surf there, then Trinity had to deal. It wasn’t her ocean, as much as she may think otherwise. At times, she acted like shoe owned the whole damn world. At times, she acted like she owned Trye.

But she does. Look at you—you left the party that her brother invited you to, just because she got a little angry. She invites you to kiss her, and when you do, she gets mad. Remember when she spent the night? She determined what rooms you’d go in. She tricked you into making out with her, and claimed not to remember it the next morning. She leads you on all the time, and you just…fallow her! Not only does she own you, but you’re her puppet!

It was the truth. Trye pretty much did whatever Trinity willed him to. How had this come about? How? Trye was supposed to be the one in control! Somewhere in his love for Trinity, Trye had fallen into the patterns of being someone he didn’t want to be.

Anger surged through his veins. Trye felt a huge wave pulse underneath him. Lying forward, he paddled into it, and jumped up. It wasn’t until he was in it that he realized how enormous the swell was. Didn’t care. Trye zigzagged and looped through the wave, his aggression fueling each move. On one cut through the wave, Trye cut too hard.

He fell off the board, and the wave thrashed him away from the fiberglass structure. Struggling to keep his head above the water, Trye searched for it. He’d at least have something to hang onto, then. There. About fifty yards away, but the distance was manageable.

Until the wave exploded over his head. Currents swept under him, pulling his legs one way, and the rest of him another. Water crashed over his head, and pushed him down. He struggled to grab onto something he could pull himself up with, but only grabbed liquid. He kept clawing, attempting to pull himself to the surface.

Finally, his hand locked onto something. He pulled at it, trying to get a good grip on whatever it was. It moved. It came loose. Trye felt it desperately, but recognized the slimy texture. Seaweed. Only seaweed. Seaweed wouldn’t help him any.

The murky water was impossible to see in. The salt was stinging his eyes. It was so dark that he couldn’t tell which way was up and which way was down. Trye felt the water tugging at his body even more. His lungs screamed for air, and his brain was slowing down. So was his body. The burning in his chest was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

My God, Trye realized. I’m going to die. I’m going to drown. My mom—I’m never going to see my mom, or my dad, or Andrew ever again.

Or Trinity.

Oh, Christ, he wanted to see her again. Hold her, kiss her, and see her — one last time. Apologize. He would apologize for acting the way he did. Tell her that he loved her. Kiss her soft little lips, hold her tiny body.

Come on, God, Trye pleaded, his eyes closed, his heart slowing. Let me live! I have lots to do! I’ve got a girl I’ve got to make love me! Let me live. Please.

God didn’t seem too eager to comply with Trye’s requests. Because then, Trye’s head connected with a mossy rock. The plow shot pain for only a moment. In the middle of recollecting when he saw Trinity for the first time in his life, everything went back.


“Okay, okay, calm down, Trin, he’s got to be here somewhere. I mean, unless he vanished into thin air. Actually, that seems pretty plausible right about now.” Trinity stopped. “Stop talking to yourself. At least, stop talking to yourself out loud.”

“Trinity, what’s going on? Where the hell is he?” Melissa questioned.

“I don’t know!” snapped Trinity. “I think he left.”

“Left? Damn! He can’t’ve left. He could be anywhere!”

Just then, Trinity spotted Andrew. Fury bubbled inside her, but she walked over to him. “I have two things to ask you: Number one, why the hell are you still here? Leave. Number two, where’s your brother? Oh, and please answer number two before carrying out number one.”

“Trye?” inquired Andrew.

“Of course, Trye! You don’t have any other brothers!”

“Do too. Jacob.”

Irritated, Trinity moaned, “Why would I be asking about someone I didn’t even know existed?!”

“I don’t know. Because you’re an idiot?”

Offended and provoked, she screamed, “Answer the question!”

Andrew stayed calm, which only infuriated Trinity further. “Which question would that be, again?”

“Where—is—Trye?” she growled.

Feigning thoughtfulness, Andrew paused. “I think he said that he was going to Sam’s.”

“Damn!” Trinity exclaimed. She didn’t realize that she had yelled it until several people looked over at her. “Christ—I’m sorry, okay?” She whirled around and stormed outside.

“Trinity! Where are you going?” Melissa called.

“Out!”

“Out where?”

“Outside!” She pounded down the stairs of the deck, and kicked her sandals off. They got left at the bottom of the wooden risers, and forgotten for the moment. Sand flew up with her quick pace. Her feet picked up sand, and flipped it forward. Sand hit the backs of her legs, and wedged in between her toes.

“What do I do, now? Do I just want for him to show up on my doorstep, again? He won’t. He said that he gave up. He’s at Sam’s house, for Christ’s sake! Gather your bearings, Flavin, ’cause you need to figure out what to do about this.” Trinity breathed, and thought. It all was much more definite when babbled around. The thoughts in her head didn’t get mixed together that way. She was down by the water, now, her feet submerged to her ankles. Instead of sand, water was now hitting her calves.

She gazed out at the waves. They were big and unruly. Not waves she’d want to ride. Even though she didn’t want to surf those waves, she felt like she needed to. Surfing was a good stress-reliever. It was you, your board, and the ocean. Simple. The ocean wouldn’t get into an argument and confuse you. If it weren’t for the stupid party, Trinity would have run back inside and gotten changed into a bathing suit, and grabbed her surfboard. However, she didn’t think that salty beach hair, a bikini bottom, and a wetsuit top were quite up to the dress code of the party.

“Trye, Trye, Trye,” she sighed, deflating. “You see what you do to me, you dork? You make me all crazy. What do I do with you? You have a girlfriend, already. You like her. You’re happy with her….Maybe if I killed her…no, then that would be kicking around on my conscience. I could forget out everything and ignore you. I could beat the crap out of Sam. I could suck it up and tell you that I love you, too.” Deflated even more. “I think I’m going to have to go with the last—Holy shit! Trye!” While ranting, Trinity had been facing the ocean, watching the insane water.

Trye was in that water. Surfing. Trinity stood and watched him, uncertain about what to do. The way he surfed was amazing. He seriously seemed to be part of the wave. An extended ripple of molecules. She had never seen anything like it.

Then, the board flew out from underneath him. It flew up, and landed far away from where Trye went down. Trinity waited anxiously. Come up. Come up. C’mon, come up! she pleaded. She waited. It had been too long. Something was wrong. He—he wasn’t coming up. Why wasn’t he coming up?!

“Trye!” Trinity screamed. She was already knee-deep in ocean water. She had taken the steps without realizing it. “Trye!” Her auto-pilot continued, and she waded to her waist. Taking one last scan of the ocean surface. Trinity dove into the salty abyss.

Her powerful strokes were used to the pull of the ocean. The beach she always surfed at was famous for its riptide. Originally, it had seemed exciting, until Trinity had to swim against it one day. That wasn’t fun. Northern East coast didn’t get riptide. Trye was used to calm, yet frigid, waters. He was screwed.

All the more reason to focus and keep going!

But it was hard to tell where exactly she was going to. Trye was underwater, and probably had been pulled far away by the currant. Something gently knocked on Trye’s head. Still treading water, she turned. Trye’s board! Yes! Flotation! She clutched it to her chest, and leaned over it, swimming and looking into the water at the same time. The water was too murky. Her sight was about zero. How the hell was she supposed to find that bastard? Trinity looked at the dark sky.

“Could I have a little help here?! You’re not making this very easy on me! This isn’t a selfish thing I’m doing! A little sympathy?” Tears poured down Trinity’s face. “Trye! Where are you, dammit?”

She sucked her lungs full of air, and dunked her head. Burning eyes scanned the water for a dark blob. Swimming more frantic strokes, Trinity’s salty tears mixed with the saltwater.

When she was completely out of breath, she resurfaced. Gulps of air mixed with her sobs. “Trye…” Her calling was becoming more feeble. Finally, she bit her lip and let her head rest on his surfboard. “No. You can’t be gone, Trye…you can’t. I need you. You can’t be…TRYE!” she screeched. She saw something in her peripheral vision. Murky water over…yes! Blue board shorts!

With renewed energy, Trinity swam to Trye, just as he was sinking back into Poseidon’s clutches. She grabbed his waist, and felt her way to his head. Frantically, she pulled it above the surface. A river of water splashed out of his open mouth. She could only imagine how much water was in his lungs…but she couldn’t worry about that now. She had to get him to his surfboard first. He would be above the water. That was good.

It was hard to keep Trye’s hulking frame above the water, but fear and worry gave her new strength. She finally reached the fiberglass life preserver. Pulling his shoulders up, Trinity hoisted him onto it, and took a deep breath. Okay. Now she just had to tow him to shore. She grabbed the black cord, and put her other hand on Trye’s board, to stabilize it. Her fingers crept over to Trye’s unconscious body. He was really there. Thank God. As long as he wasn’t…Trinity couldn’t finish the thought. After an eternity, Trinity could reach the bottom. She turned around, and pulled the nose of the board until it ran onto sand. From there, she dragged Trye to the wet sand.

Unsure of what to do next, she rolled him onto his side. More water poured out of his mouth. Trinity’s tears fell onto Trye’s wet body. That’s too much water—he can’t be that full of water and still be alive!

When no more water drained out, Trinity rolled him back onto his back. Her tears blurred her vision but she grabbed his wrist. Two fingers on the puffy vein, she instructed herself. She got nothing. So move your fingers around until you find something! Trinity’s fingers slid to the left, slowly. Nothing. Right. Nothing.

Maybe I just can’t find his pulse here. Probably I should check his neck, because that’s where I check mine.

Sliding her index and middle finger around Trye’s jaw line, she searched. Trinity checked where her pulse was, then checked that place on Trye. Was…did she feel minute movements in the vein? Yes, Trinity was sure it was a pulse. But what if it wasn’t? What she felt was faint. So faint, that it could just be Trinity’s wishful thinking.

Okay, she thought, that’s irrelevant. Wait—it is not! This is his freaking life! CPR. CPR’ll help. I think.

Trinity tilted Trye’s head back, and opened his mouth. She leaned over him, and put her mouth to his. Oh, it brought back memories. Like the first time he kissed her in that classroom on her first day of school…

No time to reminisce. Breathe for him!

Trinity emptied her lungs into Trye, and broke from his mouth. She leaned back, and found where to press. She pushed on his chest once, twice, three times. Again. Again. After twelve repetitions, she went back to his mouth. Breathe, she commanded. Please, just breathe!

Putting her fingers back on his neck, Trinity prayed for a more definite pulse. She couldn’t believe that little thing she had felt before was really there. She was so desperate…When Trinity moved her finger to the left, she got nothing. She moved them to the right, defeated.

Bump…bump…bump.

Holy shit! He—he was—his pulse—it—it was—he—what? Trinity was feeling so many things at once; she couldn’t even get her thoughts straight.

She pulled him back onto his side, which was what you were supposed to do, in case they threw up, or something.

Anxiously, she knelt in the sand. Awaiting him to stir. She put her hand on his back. Her fingers traced his spine. Restlessly, Trinity touched his face. She just had to feel Trye. After the apprehension of looking for him, it seemed like such a luxury to be able to touch him on whim.

“Trye, if you’d only wake up…”


Chapter 8


It’s all over, now. I’m dead. It hasn’t stopped this headache, though. I wonder if I’m in heaven. Yeah, there’s the angel that’s been sent to instruct me on what to do, now that I’ve kicked the bucket, Trye thought drowsily. He shut his eyes again, because it was too hard to keep them open. But, his curiosity of what heaven looked like won over his tired eyes and aching body. And his head! God, his head hurt. Maybe the angel could make it stop.

When he forced his eyes open, Trye scrutinized the angel with his bleary eyes. She had dark blond hair, and a white dress. Her face was beautiful, but devoid of makeup. Of course, angels didn’t need makeup. Her eyes were a silery gray, and vaguely reminded Trye of someone, but he couldn’t remember who. Then, it struck Trye. The angel resembled Trinity. Was Trye really such a bad person that he deserved that sort of torture? Seeing an angel that looked like Trinity was nothing but a reminder that she was never going to be his.

“Oh, thank God!” The angel fell into Trye’s arms. He felt so incredibly at ease in the angel’s embrace. A warm feeling of love washed over him, and a pleasant smile crept onto his face. Now that the angel was holding him, she had no fears. She could take care of him.

She spoke to him more, in a soothing, quiet voice. Trye didn’t listen much, but enjoyed the feeling of her cloud-like hands on him. They were soft and moist, just like he imagined a cloud to be. He wondered if he was sitting on a cloud. That would be cool. Trye couldn’t muster the strength to look, but he felt cool billows supporting him.

“…So we’ll go see him—he’s in charge.”

“Him?” Was she referring to God?

“My father.”

Her father? God was her father? If God was her father, did that make her a goddess, or something? Was she above a regular angel? Probably. Trye reached up to her face, and ran his fingers over its curve. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Oh, Trye. To hear you say that…it makes me love you even more than I already did.” The goddess leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. Trye was slightly confused, but returned the kiss. He had never kissed an angel. Or goddess. Or whatever she was. It was nice, though. He felt warm all over. When the kiss ended, Trye admired her from his horizontal position.

“Trye, stay right there. I’m going to go get my father, okay?” the goddess asked.

“Mmm,” he replied. It hurt too much to nod, and he was tired again. His eyes slid shut, but not before watching the goddess get up and glide away.


“Tom! Tom!” Trinity called, bursting into the ballroom from one of the glass sliding doors. Tom wasn’t the only one who turned. Everyone who saw Trinity gasped with wide eyes. Her appearance must have been worse than she thought.

“Trinity, what the—?”

“I’ll tell you later. Go get Dad, and call 911.”

Tom’s face contorted. “Trinity—”

“Just get him, okay?”

“Is it Trye? Did you find him?”

Hesitating at the door, Trinity nodded. Her face was still covered in grim disbelief.

Tom gave a curt nod back, and disappeared into the throng of people.


For a cloud, it’s pretty noisy, Trye observed. It sort of sounds like the ocean. Damn ocean. I hate the ocean. It killed me for no good reason. Even after I asked it not to.

“Trye? Open your eyes,” urged a familiar voice.
Was it his goddess? Trye hoped so. He liked her. At her command, he willed himself to raise his eyelids. It took a lot of effort, but he did it. Before the goddess spoke again, Trye started to cough. The breaths he took ripped at his esophagus, and could taste blood. How could he be coughing up blood if he was dead?

The girl had his head raised forward. Worry marred her beautiful face. The hand that held his face was clammy and cold.

When he finally stopped his retching coughs he quickly observed his surroundings. Surprised, Trye realized that he wasn’t on a cloud. He wasn’t in the sky. He was lying on sand. The ocean crashed next to him. The girl was not a goddess, but the Goddess. His Goddess.

Before he could think better of it, Trye reached his hands up and put them around Trinity’s neck. With very little effort, he pulled her face to his, and kissed her with all of his might. Trinity seemed taken by surprise, but kissed back immediately.

After releasing her, Trye whispered in a raw voice, “I’m alive.” He could say much, because his throat ached so much from his coughing fit. But being able to utter those words—and have them be true—felt better to Trye than anything else ever had.

Except, maybe, kissing Trinity.

***

“I should really drown more often,” Trye rasped to Tom.

“Shut up, you idiot! Do you know how messed up Trinity’s been lately? At home, she freaks out all the time—over little things—and she’s edgy, and...”

“What do you mean?” Dry lungs were so much easier than watery ones. If only Trye’s throat wasn’t so raw and sore.

“She’ll freeze, and stare into space. She doesn’t like to be alone. She’s having these nightmares, and isn’t really sleeping anymore. And did you notice that you haven’t seen her since that night? Not the day after, not here—not at all.”

Trye thought back. Tom was right. Trye hadn’t seen his rescuer in six days. It was weird. Wouldn’t she want to check that he was okay? He asked Tom this question.

“Personally, I think she’s still scared out of her mind.”

Trye thought back to that night. He’d been scared, too. But after Trye had realized that he was still alive, he had gazed at Trinity until his eyelids were too fired to stay up. His fear had ebbed away. She had looked so gorgeous, even with salty, wet strings of hair, no makeup, and sand stuck to her body. Especially, with her wet dress. He smirked at how obvious it had been that she was braless in the cold, sopping dress. Trye felt terrible for everything he doing to that stunning girl. Beautiful no matter what.

But the news of Trinity’s state alarmed Trye. She wasn’t sleeping? Nightmares? Scared? Why? He still didn’t get it.

“Well, think about it, Trye.” Tom shifted on Trye’s chair. “She found you almost dead. She almost couldn’t find you. She had to do CPR. She—we—almost lost you. We didn’t because of her, okay? That’s a lot to deal with.”

Trye took that into consideration. When it was put like that, it seemed…but why would she not want to see him Wouldn’t she want to be around him extra, to make sure he was still okay? He didn’t get her.

“Trye—” Andrew’s head was in the room. He glanced at Tom, and smiled as a greeting. “Mom says to go to sleep, now.”

“Come on! It’s eight o’clock! It’s bad enough I’m stuck in this freaking room. Do I have to go to bedy-bye early, too?” whispered Trye. Even after all the time that had passed, Trye still had some water in him. It would cause intense coughing fits, which were truly taking a toll on his voice.

Shrugging apologetically, Andrew said, “That’s just what she told me to tell you.”

Trye sighed. He lay back on his bed. “I guess I’ll see you later, Tom.”

“Want me to come by tomorrow?” Tom asked him.

“Don’t need to,” Trye muttered. “I get to go back to school tomorrow. Woo-freaking-hoo.” Trye pulled the sheets over his body and scowled. “I’m going to end up laying here until eleven.”

Tom laughed. “Last time I was there, you sacked out at eight thirty.”

“Well—I was—you know what? Shut up. You need to leave, now.”

Again, Tom laughed. “Fine. I’m out of here. See you at school. Sleep tight, pumpkin.”

“Leave!” Trye hurled his sweatshirt at him, and Tom was gone. He couldn’t blame Tom. He was an easy target. Poor Trye. He almost died. Pity him.

But he remembered that one person didn’t pity him. One person was terrified to be around Trye. The person who saved him. The person he loved. And not being near her was driving him absolutely crazy.

Tomorrow—you’ll see her tomorrow. You can talk to her, and hold her, and kiss her all you want to, then.

This thought danced in his head as he reached over to click off his lamp. His deliberation came to a halt mid-moonwalk. A cutesy get-well card was placed on the nightstand, next to the light. A girlfriend-y card. From his girlfriend, no less. Sam! Sam, you idiot! You’re still going out with her!

Here he was, fantasizing about making out with Trinity in the wet, white dress, and he still had a girlfriend! He felt like a jerk.

Oh, face it, Foreman! he thought. You’ve been doing mental—and sometimes actual—make-out sessions with Trinity since you met her. It was never about Sam. Ever. Get over it and break up with her, already.

Heaving himself out of the bed, he shuffled to his computer. During the dial-up, he felt that the monitor was making louder sounds than usual. Probably, he was just paranoid about his mother finding him up and online. As he opened Instant Messenger, he prayed that she would be online. Naturally, she wasn’t. But Trinity was. He had a quick mental debate. Over his better judgment, Trye hit, “send” on his message box.

After almost a minute, the screen enlarged, and Trinity’s screen name popped up with a reply.

CuteButCrazy: hi, trye
Surfinglives: haven’t talked to you in a while, trin. why haven’t you been by?

Trye realized that it was a quick ambush, but his curiosity to Tom’s claims was phenomenal. There was a long pause again.

CuteButCrazy: busy
Surfinglives: bs
CuteButCrazy: so?
Surfinglives: so i wanna know the truth
CuteButCrazy: tough
Surfinglives: trinity
CuteButCrazy: trye
Surfinglives: your brother said you’re having…problems
CuteButCrazy: that’s bull
CuteButCrazy: he’s stupid--he doesn’t know what he’s talking about

Trye shook his head. Tom wasn’t lying. He could tell by his worried expression that it was the truth. But Trinity didn’t want to tell him about it. Why not?

Surfinglives: is it cuz of me?
CuteButCrazy: nothing’s going on, Trye

Ignoring her denial, he plowed on.

Surfinglives: if it’s cuz of me, which i think it is, cuz you were find before, then i wanna apologize cuz i’m okay and i want you to be, too
CuteButCrazy: IT’S NOTHING! NOTHING IS GOING ON! I DON’T KNOW WHAT TOM TOLD YOU BUT IT’S A LIE!!!!!!!
CuteButCrazy signed off at 8:15:25 PM


“Asshole!” Trinity hissed. She wasn’t sure if she was referring to Trye or Tom.

So, she lied to Trye. Big deal. She wasn’t going to admit that she couldn’t handle the thought of Trye almost dying. She didn’t even—she wasn’t the one who had nearly drowned! Trye had. And he seemed fine with it. He seemed normal. Hell, he was concerned for her.

Groaning, Trinity climbed into bed. “You big baby! You don’t need Trye to protect you. He’d probably start making out with you instead of protecting you,” she muttered. But that seemed very appealing to Trinity, nowadays. It had been six whole, long days since Trye had touched her. Since he’d held her, kissed her…almost died…

Stop it! she told herself.

Why hadn’t she gone to see Trye? Easy. She was scared, that’s why. Scared to face reality. The thought that he had almost left her forever scared her. The thought that he was hurt scared her. The recollection of the night scared her…

Trinity drifted into an uneasy sleep. It was very deep; hard to wake from, easy to dream in. And that’s why she dreamed again. About that night.


[… “Trye?” Trinity called. “Where are you?” It was dark, and Trinity was swimming in the ocean, looking for Trye. She knew he was somewhere in the water. How did she know that, though? She hadn’t seen him there.

Trinity looked down. There were flashes under the water. They were far down, but illuminated long cylinders of colored light. Each time a flash happened, it was a different color, and in a different spot. Trinity knew that it was just Glow Popping Fish playing tag, but each beam startled her.

“Trye? Where are you?” Trinity called again. “I’m trying to help you! I’m trying to save you!”

And Trye was suddenly in front of her. He was sitting on top of the water, holding Melissa on one side, Sam on the other. They were moth running their hands and mouths over his half-naked body. Jealousy hit her body. She could feel her eyes growing greener, filled with envy.

“No need to shout,” he said. The words didn’t come out verbally, but as written words. They were sloppy, bright green cursive. They rose into the air, and finally curled into themselves. “I’m right here.” He grinned evilly. “But it’s too late. I don’t need you. I’m dead now, and I don’t need you.”

“Then…who are they?” Trinity asked.

The girls didn’t even look up. They just continued to fondle his form.

Smirking, Trye said, “Mine.” The word only stayed in the air for several seconds before the smoke curved around the two girls. It became devil horns in their perfect hair, and seeped into their eyes, turning them an evil green.

“You’re dead? You can’t be dead! I was looking for you!”

“Well, you were too slow! You let me die. It’s all your fault; you couldn’t save me.”

The flashes of light from the Glow Popping Fish were all the same radioactive green as Trye’s words. “I don’t need you,” he repeated. “I never needed you. I never could need you. You were unnecessary.”

Trinity’s heart began to swell up with salty water. Her boy seemed up the ocean water, and all of it was drawn directly to her heart. Soon, it was swollen, and it exploded inside of her. The salty water ran out of her eyes in thick rivers. They were like tears, but they stung twice as heard, because they came straight from her heart.

“I don’t need you!” Trye repeated over and over. His angle vixens looked at Trinity. The smoke from his words bathed their naked bodies like silken robes, and the green horns glowed from their heads. Their eyes produced a sickening acid green light. “I don’t need you!”

He was gone again. The water she lay in started to pull her under. Trinity couldn’t breathe for the longest time…and she couldn’t seem to die, either.

After years of plunging downward, Trinity stopped. She was inside a dark bubble. Water surrounded her on all sides, and the ceiling was curved, yet the ground was flat. The surrounding water was a murky black that had never been exposed to sunlight.

Andrew stood at one end of the bubble, and Trinity was in the middle, facing him.

“Come here, Trinity.” Andrew’s voice was audible—and not visual—but it was hard to hear. IT was muffled, like he was talking into the water.

“No!”

“You have to come! It’s the only way! He doesn’t need you, and I do. Come here!” he commanded.

“No!” Trinity spun away from Andrew. She gasped in horror, and staggered back. Sam and Melissa were hovering above Trye, floating in midair. They grinned wickedly, and flew through the top of the bubble, and into the dark water. Below where they had been, Trye was sprawled. His eyes were lifeless and his body was rigid. Dead.

“He doesn’t need you. He doesn’t need you. He doesn’t need you…” chorused a thousand anonymous voices. They got louder and louder, until Trinity could hardly bear it.

Then, booming over all the rest, Trye’s voice began, “I don’t need you. I don’t need you…” The voice wasn’t actually coming from Trye, though. He was still lifeless on the floor. Sounding just like him, it continued to shout, “I don’t need you!”

Trinity watched Trye’s motionless body. His head was gushing blood, and his lip was split. He was pale, and his eyes were becoming glassy.

There was a note high above the chorus of “he doesn’t need you.” It took Trinity a moment to realize it was herself. She was screaming.]

To be continued...