Boys and Girls, Part IV: Why I Love to Hate You

Chapter 2 – Meet the Family

“Wow, I love your jeans!” Stephanie squeaked as she hugged Ewan.

Joe rolled his eyes and extended a friendly hand to their foreign visitor. Ewan accepted it before receiving more hugs from Delaney and Lani and more handshakes from Jason and Ryan.

The gang had gathered at Thai Palace for Ewan’s welcome dinner party. Jacy had suggested the place ever since Ewan had vocalized how big a fan he was of Thai food.

“You must be hungry,” Lani said to Ewan.

“Famished,” he answered. “Airline food is absolute shit these days.”

The guys grinned. Ryan was the first to talk. “So, you and Jacy have been writing back and forth for about five years now, right?”

Ewan nodded as he motioned for the waitress. “Yeah. Our secondary schools were connected via an exchange program. The pen pal program was completely optional, but…” he winked at Jacy, “…I’m glad I decided to participate.”

Jacy blushed. As the waitress arrived, the gang placed their orders. Beers were ordered for all the guys, while the girls all opted for waters.

“So are you in school right now?” Delaney asked.

Ewan shook his head. “No, love. I’m actually taking a break before my graduate studies commence.”

“So you’re going to travel?” Joe asked.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I’d like to see the world a bit before I start working.”

“That’s very admirable,” Stephanie chimed in. “Where do you plan to go?”

“Anywhere…everywhere,” Ewan answered. “I haven’t made any definite plans yet.”

“How long are you staying in North Mission?” Jason asked.

“Two weeks,” Jacy answered. She caught Ewan grinning in response to her answer. “Right?”

“We’ll see, love,” he answered with a smile that exposed very un-British pearly white teeth. “I might be swayed to stay here a little longer than planned.”

Jacy couldn’t help it and blushed again.

****

“Is this guy really gay because I’m sensing some very mixed signals,” Stephanie asked.

“He’s gay,” Joe reassured her.

“How do you know?” Stephanie asked.

“Tight pants,” he answered resolutely.

“You wear tight pants,” she answered back.

“Nuh-uh!” Joe protested. “When?”

“When you play football, silly!” Stephanie replied.

“Yeah,” Joe began, “that’s for aerodynamic purposes, sweetheart. You have no idea how thrilled I am when I can finally slip back into baggy attire.”

The others laughed at Joe and Stephanie’s inane conversation. Ewan had excused himself to use the washroom, so naturally, the gang was using this time to talk about him.

“I like him,” Lani confessed. “He’s hot.”

“Hey!” Ryan warned. “Watch it now.”

“Oh come on, Ryan,” Lani began. “Are you telling me that Ewan’s unattractive?”

“Honey, I’m not saying anything!” he replied. “Do not even go there, okay?”

Lani rolled her eyes before turning to Jason. “What do you think?”

“About what?” he asked dimly.

“Ewan – hot or not?”

Jason groaned. “Shit, Ailani. Don’t ask me stuff like that!”

“I think he’s really cute,” Delaney volunteered.

Jason put a possessive arm around Delaney and pulled her in. “I don’t want you answering these questions either.”

Lani eventually turned to Jacy. “So how are you doing, Miss Blushy?”

Jacy blushed again. “What are you talking about?”

“Every time Mr. English says something, you’re cheeks turn bright red,” Ryan explained," like they’re doing right now.”

Jacy sputtered in protest and quickly brought her hands up to cup her face and cool her cheeks. She scowled when she heard Jason and Joe snicker.

“Come on, Jacy” Joe started. “It’s not a crime to be attracted to someone even if they don’t…bat for your team, exactly.”

“I’m not attracted to Ewan,” Jacy lied.

“Maybe you should double-check and make sure that Ewan’s really gay,” Stephanie offered. “You guys look really cute together!”

Jacy rolled her eyes. “He is gay, Steph.” She noticed Stephanie’s eyes drifting to the ceiling, as if she was fantasizing about something. “Steph,” Jacy warned, “do not be picturing us together in your mind.”

Stephanie clapped in excitement. “Your babies would…” she drifted into a very bad British accent “…talk like this.”

Jacy clapped a hand to her forehead, and the gang erupted into laughter. Ewan returned to the table just then.

“All right then. Sounds like I’ve missed something important. What are we all talking about?”

Jacy turned her face Ewan and shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”

****

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…Please don’t kill me!”

Tristan jumped up as the sound of a gunshot echoed in his head. He rubbed his face and ran a shaky hand through his hair. He peered over at his clock. It was almost three in the morning. Fuck. He had class tomorrow morning. Tristan angrily tossed his bedcovers aside and kicked his way out of bed.

As soon as Tristan had settled back into his apartment and unpacked his things, he had been feeling very lonely. He called up Summer Fiedler, a girl he could always rely on for a good time, and she had been over at his place within twenty minutes.

They skipped the foreplay and went right to the sex. They humped like deprived animals before Summer showered and left not half an hour after they had finished. That was the way Tristan liked it. He didn’t want to talk about feelings or any bullshit like that, and he was pretty certain that Summer felt the same way.

Tristan tumbled into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. He washed his face just to wake himself up a little. When he felt alert enough, he shut the water off and stared into the mirror in front of him. Thin rivulets of warm water fell down his golden boy features.

And yet, Tristan felt so cold.

He wasn’t a very sensitive guy, but how could any warm-blooded human being be expected to cope with the death of a loved one easily? He couldn’t believe that he had one less brother in his life now. The fear of what must have gone through Lucas’s mind seconds before the shooting continued to haunt Tristan, even now.

He wiped his face with a towel and walked down the hallway of his large apartment into the kitchen. He mindlessly opened the fridge and just stared. He didn’t have an appetite, but he figured becoming a skinny twig by starving himself prior to the NFL draft would not be in his best interest. He pulled out a box of pizza rolls and poured them onto a plate before nuking them in the microwave.

As he leaned back against his counter, wearing nothing but his boxers, Tristan’s mind – in an effort to quit thinking about his brother – moved to Jacy Hewitt and her new male friend. Tristan hadn’t seen Jacy since the party at the Hawks’ Mixer. Back then she was definitely heavier, but more importantly, she was overly cynical and elitist – the type of girl that Tristan hated the most. When he had seen her today, she appeared more carefree and down-to-earth, and consequently, much more attractive.

Tristan scratched his chin as the timer went off. He pulled the pizza rolls from the microwave and popped open a beer from the fridge. He shouldn’t have been drinking the shit right now, but he was depressed and needed a little booze to help him sleep.

As Tristan tore into the tiny pizza bites, his mind wandered back to the Mixer. He remembered paying off some freshman dickweed by the name of Scott Wellesley to initiate Operation Put-Jacinda-Hewitt-in-Her-Place. Wellesley had taken Tristan’s money without remorse and asked Jacy out by week’s end.

At the party, Jacy had arrived nicely dressed. Tristan remembered thinking that she actually looked pretty, but he would never tell her that; she had embarrassed him, and he was pissed because of it. Tristan had kept his eyes on her the entire party to make sure that she didn’t find out the truth too early on.

Jacy had ended up staying at Hawks Manor for four hours. And then she overheard a few of the guys, including asshole Wellesley, talking about who had the “ugliest” date. Tristan had the pleasure of seeing Jacy storm out of the party, obviously having discovered the true nature of the party.

It had almost been perfect. Almost.

And then that dumb fuck, Ryan Mackey, had come to his chubby friend’s rescue, and Tristan was belittled again. Mackey had accused him of not acting like “a man” and loads of other bullshit.

In retrospect, it had been a shitty thing to do. Tristan knew he was a cocky son-of-a-bitch, but he was still a Southern gentleman, and a real Southern gentleman would never treat a lady the way that he had treated Jacinda Hewitt – even if she was most definitely not a Southern lady.

Tristan had thought about apologizing, but he figured Jacy Hewitt might be more relieved if he’d just never bother her again. It was simple enough.

So then why couldn’t he stop getting thoughts of Jacy and Tight-pants Boy out of his mind? He was shocked enough to see Jacy looking so damn good after these past few months, but it just boiled Tristan’s blood to see a pretty girl gallivanting around with a metrosexual – or worse, a closeted homosexual. Tristan just didn’t like seeing attractive women wasted on girly men, when they’d be much better off with real men. Men…like him.

Not that Tristan would ever consider dating Jacy. Firstly, Tristan just did not date. Secondly, if he did, he would not choose to date Jacy. Pretty or not, he was sure that her characteristic cynicism and feelings of superiority over Tristan still lingered beneath that new exterior. He wasn’t about to open that can of worms. At least not when he could fulfill his manly needs with Summer Fiedler or any number of willing football groupies at NMU.

Tristan polished off the last of the pizza rolls and placed the dirty plate in his sink. He grabbed his beer and settled on his living room sofa. He switched on his television and tuned into ESPN. The San Diego Chargers would be playing the New Orleans Saints in less than two weeks, and Superbowl mania was sweeping across the nation.

Tristan knew that he wouldn’t be on either of those teams. Following the BCS Championship Game, his stock had risen so considerably that most analysts predicted Tristan to be a top ten pick in the draft. That meant that Tristan would be headed for a team with a losing record.

Tristan secretly hoped that he wouldn’t be taken by Houston. He didn’t want to go back to the damage-torn region; he didn’t think he could cope with that on top of losing his brother. Tristan wanted to play for Oakland or San Francisco, so that he could stay in California, or for Dallas, so that he could stay close to home.

The NFL combine was scheduled for the third week of February. Tristan would have one last chance to excel at physical and mental tests. As long as he didn’t fuck things up, he’d be able to play pro ball and receive a hefty paycheck in return. It wasn’t that he really needed the money, but it was always good to know that you were worth a lot.

As the sights and sounds of sports media flashed before Tristan’s tired eyes, he eventually drifted to sleep. Many thoughts were swirling around in his mind…football, his family, and…

Jacy Hewitt.

Tristan imagined that he was the guy walking next to her at LAX. He imagined that he was the guy saying all the funny things to her and making her laugh. Tristan imagined taking Jacy back to his apartment and eating pizza rolls and beer with her – he wondered if she would eat things like that with her new body. He imagined that she was snuggled next to him watching “Sports Center” on ESPN. He imagined her falling asleep in his arms. He would carry her into the bedroom and lay her to sleep. Then, her arms would slowly encircle his neck. Jacy would pull Tristan down for a kiss, and he would willingly comply with her demand.

Then, he’d slowly strip her of her unnecessary clothing, and she would help him out of his. He’d climb on top of her and lovingly tuck a stray strand of her gorgeous dark brown hair behind her ear as he looked into her hauntingly beautiful hazel eyes. He’d position himself slowly in front of her moist entrance and…

Tristan sprang back to consciousness. Oh this was bad. In addition to all the other shit that was piling up in his life, sex dreams about a ball-busting wiseass were not what he had ordered. He continued to watch ESPN, carefully guarded as to where his thoughts might lead him. As soon as he thought about Jacy, his thoughts veered towards seeing his Aunt Dianne in a yellow two-piece at the family beach gatherings or witnessing his girl cousins talking about having their periods in sync.

Tristan shivered. Women…they were just a big mystery to him.

****

A/N: Sorry about Tristan's comments about gays. I don't feel that way, but Tristan's a warm-blooded male who likes women and comes from a conservative town...nuff said.