Chapter Six

28 1 0
                                    

When Troy arrived at the pond, he was surprised to see the fishman not deep within his home, but lounging about, sunbathing at the water's surface. Upon glimpsing the adorable display, Troy laughed and ran a hand through his soft flowing hair.

"Hey!" he called out. "What are you doing over there, being all handsome with no one to admire your beauty?" The relaxed fishman was truly an Adonis, his cosmopolitan pecs bookended by broad shoulders and impeccable knees.

The fishman didn't respond. He just kept staring blankly off into the wide expanse of the golf course. With no other ideas for how to rouse the fishman from his comforting daydreams, Troy hit a golf ball in his general direction, and due to Troy's extensive skill and precision, it hit the fishman squarely between his delicious eyes. The fishman let out a shrill screech and was about to get all mad at the golfer who had committed the heinous crime, but when he looked around and saw it was just Troy, he calmed down immediately.

Troy smiled. "You really looked like you were lost in thought back there. What were you thinking about?" he signed.

"Shrimp scampi." The fishman's reply was short and to the point.

Troy hung his head in shame. "Wow," he began, "That sounds really good, but..." he trailed off.

"Troy," the fishman signed sternly. "Look me in the face orbs and tell me what it is."

Troy sighed. "Fine," he grumbled. "I just don't know what shrimp is."

That piqued the fishman's interest. "Why, shrimp is only the most exquisite cuisine on the planet! You simply have to try it!" he decreed passionately.

"If you insist, but in the meantime, shall we go... shoot some hoops?" Troy suggested.

The fishman blushed. "I thought you'd never ask." he admitted.

The trip to East High was filled with loving glances and playful elbow shoving. Troy couldn't help but be stunned by the fishman's quintessential quads. When they arrived at the gym, Troy noticed it was just as spacious as he remembered it, like a gutted out clam. When the fishman walked in, he knew its pearl had just returned. Now that they were here, Troy could explain the complex rules of the game.

"So this game is called HORSE. You shoot the hoops and if the person that goes before you makes a shot and you miss it, you get a letter and the first one to get all of the letters of HORSE loses.

"But that has nothing to do with what a horse is," the fishman signed.

"Bet," Troy agreed. He hoped the fishman couldn't tell he had no idea what a horse is.

The two played HORSE together, and in a strange twist of fate, the fishman managed to beat Troy. The fishman's moves were way more sick than Troy expected, and it didn't help that the sight of the fishman and his shapely legs caused Troy's own moves to be super weak sauce. All the same, Troy couldn't help but be awed by the fishman's physical prowess. He had been outplayed. "I have to admit I've been outplayed," Troy admitted.

The fishman shrugged. Sweat rolled down his sculpted body, making him gleam under the fluorescent lights of the gym. It was then that Troy realized it wasn't just the fishman's body that threw him off his game, but also the continuous barrage of flirty looks that the fishman kept sending in his direction. But who could blame him? The fishman's skimpy attire drew the eye to it like an overzealous moth to an inferno. Next time, Troy would even the odds. Next time the fishman would wear more clothes.

Troy was about to challenge the fishman to another round of HORSE when his stomach growled. Troy blushed. "Maybe we should to to the Olive Garden," the fishman suggested.

Troy couldn't believe it! He loved the Olive Garden! "You must have read my mind." Troy cheered. "Come on, we should get changed." The game of HORSE had really gotten Troy's adrenaline pumping and his clothes sweaty. He didn't want to go into such a fine establishment such as the Olive Garden and reek of manly BO.

In the locker room, the two of them began to shed their clothing like snakes shedding skin. As the fishman's shirt fluttered to the ground Troy couldn't help but gawk at the fishman's washboard abs. Holy Cannoli! "Wow! Your abs are like a washboard!" Troy exclaimed. Holy Cannoli!

Later the fishman gave a mysterious grin. "We should get to the Olive Garden before the dinner rush gets in." He offered.

"Bet!" Troy agreed. "I can't wait to eat! I'm so hungry I could eat an entire basketball team!"

"Why go that far when you could indulge yourself with the Olive Garden's authentic italian cuisine? Maybe some shrimp scampi?" The fishman interrogated.

"Bet!" Troy agreed. "Let's go there now! I don't want to waste another second... Although a moment with you is never a moment wasted." The fishman blushed.

At the Olive Garden, Troy chowed down on the breadsticks. They were always his favorite part of any meal, so this shrimp scampi dish he was hearing so much about would have a high bar to clear. Meanwhile, the fishman seemed engrossed in the menu, weighing the pros and cons of each option so he could make the optimal choice. It was such a foreign thing to do. When Troy came to the Olive Garden, he knew the menu inside out and had his order ready the first time the server came around.

"Sorry for asking," Troy began. "But you aren't from around here, are you?"

The fishman blushed. "Yeah, I'm from the Amazon." He added, "You probably never heard of it."

Troy hadn't. Still, he hoped the fishman would pick him up in his strong arms and carry him to the Amazon. There, they could eat all the shrimp scampi their hearts desired.

Troy nodded his head along to the Hannah Montana song playing over the Olive Garden's music system. It was her song One in a Million. Troy preferred True Friend, but given the circumstances this one worked just fine. He knew that this was his chance to impress the fishman.

"You know, I'm actually best friends with her," Troy imposed. "Isn't that cool?"

"Bet!" The fishman replied. "Whoa! You're best friends with THE Pop Icon Hannah Montana?" Maybe Troy was cooler than he thought.

"Bet! Did you know she wrote the song True Friend about me? Pretty cool, I know."

Before the fishman got the chance to reply, the server brought out both of their plates of shrimp scampi. Troy scarfed it down within two minutes. It was absolutely delicious, and gave the breadsticks a run for their money for sure! As Troy stared down at his empty plate, he could not deny that it was finger-licking good so he started licking the fishman's fingers. Then he wiped his fingers on his basketball shorts. He would be saving that for later.

Troy didn't notice, but the entire time they were eating, ominous music was playing in the background. Troy didn't hear it, though. He was lost in his own head and boy did he feel great. Troy was head over knees for the fishman. Maybe he wasn't out on his own after all.

The Best of Fish WorldsWhere stories live. Discover now