Camp Ballet Disaster

Disaster # 28

Twenty- Eight

       "No. I won't come back as long as you guys are there!"

       I winced, looking at Tristan in disbelief. Who on Earth talks to their parents like that? My Mom would kick me senseless if I do that. Yeah, what if they are not Tristan's real parents? They brought him up for sure.

       Apparently, our getaway from carnival was cut short when Tristan received a call from his parents. And ever the dumbhead he was, he picked it up without looking at the caller I.D.      Miraculously, it had to be his parents.

       So now, we were stuck on the side of the road in Tristan's Audi. I had my lips in a tight line and whenever I would feel like I should calm him down somehow, he would snap on his phone again. I had never seen him this annoyed and irritated with anyone. Guy must have real issues with his parents.

       "Look," Tristan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. I moved my hand cautiously to his hair as I started massaging his temple. He looked at me but he was still focusing on the call. "I'll call you some other time because this is not a good-"

       A few more voices on the other end before Tristan spoke louder. "No I promise I would call you back, I need to go!"

       And then he dropped the call, throwing his phone in the back seat. I flinched away when he slumped his head on the steering wheel. His back was moving up and down because of heavy breathing.

       Why does high school not teaches us the more important stuff? Like how to make someone feel better? I was clueless on what to do now. Miranda barely ever showed her emotions and Courtney was a happy-go-lyucky type of person. So, I never had to be stuck in a situation whereby someone would seek my sweet endearings.

       "You should call them back." I blurted all of a sudden. It was better than the lingering tension floating in the air.

       "And what? Get a permanent migrane?"

       "Okay then. Keep hitting your head on the wheel, that'll solve the problem."

       His back started moving up and down vigorously as he chuckled silently. He lifted his head and relaxed back on the seat, graoning louder. He shut his eyes tightly before looking at me, his eyes apologetic.

       "I'm sorry, your night was ruined."

        I slapped his arm. "Are you stupid? It was the best night of my life!"

        "Oh yeah?" He wiggled his eye brows suggestively. "Why's that?"

       My smile turned sheepish and embarassed when I realized what I had said. Oh god! My cheeks flamed and I turned to look out the window vainly. Suddenly, I felt a light tap on my cheek. Gasping, my head turned towards Tristan's to see him smirking at me.

       "Stop blushing!" He ordered, playfully. "If you don't want me to kiss you again tonight."

       Who says I don't?

       "You don't?" He questioned, turning the key in ignition as it zoomed to life.

       "Did I say that out loud?"

       "No," he clicked his tongue, grinning at my baffled face. He steered the car onto the main road again and started driving, this time slower than how he usually does. "It's just written on your face."

       As much as I wanted him to, I held back. It has been too much for tonight. There were no rules to begin with but everything was happening faster than I could digest. It was only rational that we keep some sort of curfew on...whatever we call this.