A/N: Here's Tristan >>>
(Look at me, I'm actually using pictures this time lol)
"Not happening. Not in ten years. Not in a hundred years. Not in a million years. I will not under any circumstances go undercover for you." I tell Raine for the fourth time that day. She stares at me, jutting out her wet bottom lip. Her puppy-dog look was never that convincing, anyways.
"Come on, Tyler! It's just for the summer!" She says, as I start to put my magazine back in my beach bag.
Whitney nods her head in agreement. "Think about it, girl. Two whole months surrounded by gorgeous muscular bodies. I'd do it in a heartbeat."
"Now there's an idea! Whitney will do it. Problem solved." I do a small celebratory dance.
"I would," She sighs. "But you know sweating is against my religion."
"Well bruising is against mine. It's those same gorgeous muscular bodies that are going to smash my body to a pulp during the football games. These dudes are going to be tossing me down to the ground, body-slamming me into the grass, and attempting to knock my head off with their fists." I reply. "And not to mention, Tristan..."
"Tristan..." Whitney sings.
"Tristan does not matter." Raine says. "Once we suit you up, Tristan won't even be able to recognize you. Come on, it's a win-win situation. You get your car, and I get to make sure my boyfriend isn't cheating."
"Have you ever considered just trusting him?" I ask, and she sends me a look like I'm the idiot. "Forget I said anything, then."
I grab my bag, and swing it over my shoulder, stepping out of the chaise. I could practically feel Raine's dissatisfaction burning into the skin of my back. "Wait!" She says, I stop, digging my already raw heels into the sand. "Just give me one chance. This could work. I'll come over tonight, and I'll prove it to you. Please?"
I feel no sympathy. Sure, she was my best friend. And sure, I'm supposed to make my best friend happy, but throwing away my entire summer just to stalk someone's boyfriend is not how I want to spend my days. This was going to be my summer. Tristan would disappear from sight for a whole sixty days, and here Raine was asking me to spend my only free time away from him, in the one area where he'll be spending his time. Absolutely not.
"You can come over, but it won't change anything." I state, before walking away from the beach. I figured it was in my best interests to walk home instead of sharing a ride with Raine, otherwise I'd be forced to listen to more of her persuasion attempts.
And plus, it's one thing to persuade me. But it's another to persuade my parents. It's not like they're just going to let me run off to a camp full of boys, who will be in close physical contact with me. They barely let my brother Andrew out of their sights until he ran off to college. And they still will make the six hour drive to check up on him once a month. No matter what Raine thinks, there's no way for this to work. There's no opening or loophole. It's simply impossible.
***
"Tyler, we're leaving." My mom says, as I walk in the front door, causing my eyebrows to rise in shock.
I swallow. "You're leaving? Where? When? Why?"
She doesn't seem fazed by my bombardment of questions. "You're grandmother just died. I have to head out to Minnesota to help get all the things settled and prepare for the funeral. I got a call this morning, and the family's in an uproar. Apparently, there's a lot of fuss and fight over the will, and since I'm the only blood-related child, I have to be present."
I didn't know my grandmother very well. She was rich, that's about all I had of her in my memory bank. And since my mom married my dad, who was a 'lower-class blood-sucking leech' as my grandmother so eloquently put it, my mother's been disconnected from her family ever since. Until now, obviously.
"What about dad? Is he going too?" I ask and she nods.
"He knows I'll need some moral support while dealing with my psychotic mess of a family." She lets out a puff of air, blowing her brown bangs out of her face. She looks down at me, her lips curled downwards. "I'm sorry, honey. I know we've just sprung this on you. Hopefully, it doesn't ruin your summer plans too much, but we'll only be gone for a couple of weeks."
Ruin my plans? Heck, this summer was sounding better already. I get the house to myself, no Tristan, and I can spend the rest of my days curling up with a good book. Unless, of course, Raine gets in the way.
"No mom," I say. "It's okay. Really."
"Good," she sighs. "Our flight leaves in the morning, but we're not going to leave you without supervision. The neighbor, Ms. Caruso, is going to keep an eye on you and check in from time to time. We'll leave you with a credit card, too, which is strictly for food, water and other necessities. Don't buy any televisions or anything."
"Okay," I say, trying to hide my excitement.
"Honey!" I hear my dad call from upstairs.
Mom rolls her eyes. "Let me go see what he wants. He's probably trying to pack the whole toilet."
She mutters another apology before running back up the stairs to finish packing her bags. I follow her up the stairs, heading to my own bedroom. Chaos is coming from my parents room, as I hear them scatter around, desperately trying to fill their bags with whatever they needed. Not like they exactly had that much stuff in the first place.
I start to head over to my computer, but my eyes catch at my own reflection in the mirror. I couldn't be a guy, despite whatever nicknames I was associated with. I was too feminine. I had absolutely no muscle, whatsoever. My sandy-colored hair was much too long for man length, unless my cover would be a middle-aged grunge rocker. And I didn't have the slightest bit of body hair, since I had a small obsession with shaving. And considering the fact that manly macho football dudes are supposed to be hairy beasts, the odds weren't seeming to be in my favor.
I step away from my reflection, shaking the thoughts out of my head. It's not like I was going to agree to it anyways. Sitting down at my laptop, I eagerly click on the email sent from one of the car dealerships. Every so often they send me cars that pop in my price range, and as of yet, I haven't found anything that I'd desperately want to buy. But today was different. Today, as the picture flies up onto my screen, I see the epitome of what I've wanted. A 1995 Mustang GT.
And it's not until then, that Raine's proposition sounded much, much better.
***
A couple hours later, Raine and Whitney show up at my house, with full bags of questionable materials. It's almost as if she has assumed I was up for going through with her little deeds, when I had firmly stated that I wasn't going to get involved in her love life. But, she knows me, and she figures that with a few sweet words, she can pressure me into doing what she wants, just like always.
And honestly, with that car on my mind, I might give in, just like always.
But it's not like she needed to know that.
So instead, I keep my same hard expression plastered on my face, as she drops her bags, and grins brightly at me, her hazel eyes twinkling. "So, have you reconsidered my earlier offer?"
"The answer is still no." I reply, and the picture of that Mustang flashes back in my head. I push it out. "Look, I'm just not willing to waste my summer chasing your boyfriend. I have a lot of things I want to do by myself, and since my parents are going to be gone—"
"You're parents are going to be gone?!" She lights up with excitement.
Probably shouldn't have said that.
"Either way, I don't feel comfortable being your spy. If I was caught pretending to be a guy, especially by Tristan, whatever little social life I have will be over, and I'll be forced to spend my entire senior year to his merciless insults."
Not counting the other various forms of disciplinary action that would be taken against me for impersonating another gender in a private sports institution.
"But won't he do that anyways?" Whitney asks.
"Sure he will. But the only difference is if I go, and he catches me as a guy, he'll have viable evidence to make his taunts even more realistic. And then, I'll be single for the rest of my life." I shiver at that thought.
Raine looks stumped for a second, but I see a light bulb go off in her head. I try not to groan when she opens her mouth again. "What if I can absolutely promise you that Tristan won't know who you are?"
"Impossible." I say. "You can't promise that."
"I can, if you have an appropriate disguise."
Knowing Raine, she'd considered a fake mustache an appropriate disguise.
She leans down, opening up her duffel bag. "I present to you, the holy grail of disguises." She pulls out a brown puff of fur. "The wig!"
See my point?
"Raine, a wig isn't going to keep my identity hidden." I say.
She looks over at Whitney who smiles back. "Alone? No, it won't. But together with everything I have prepared, I can promise that even when you look in the mirror, you won't recognize your own face."
I highly doubt that. But either way, I humor her, and give her the chance to prove her point. She thinks she can make me unrecognizable? Sure, I'll give her a shot. Heck, if it's decent, maybe I'll end up using it next year at school.
Whitney and Raine both get to work, first starting my face, then with how to place the wig, and finally moving on to my clothes. We stole some leftover flannel shirts from my brother's drawer, and one of his jeans which were about fifty sizes too big. Whitney had bought a three pack pair of silk boxers. And Raine got me a bottle of cologne, which smelled like a mix of armpits and whiskey. Nothing like the smell of "dude" in a 4.5 ounce bottle.
"Okay, ready?" Whitney asks after the two of them had finished.
I shrug, and they turn me towards the mirror. My eyes widened a bit. There wasn't really much done. Just a small layer of foundation to cover up my natural feminine blush, a small line of contour, and a sprinkle of fake stubble from the twenty-pack Raine bought at the dollar store made all the difference. I wasn't exactly the manliest of guys, but, you know, I'd pass.
When it came down to my body, Raine and Whitney had me wrap bandages around my boobs, which were quite uncomfortable, but I didn't exactly have anything to squish down in the first place. The flannel shirt hung low, covering my arms, and the wife beater I was wearing as an undershirt, didn't show any of my curves. The jeans were well below my butt, clearly showing off my boxers, and a belt was just barely keeping the pants around my thighs. The breeze down there was surprisingly refreshing.
"So, what do you think?" Raine asks, turning me to the mirror.
"Wow," is all I say, continuing to look at myself. Raine might not be the smartest girl, but she sure could have a future in cosmetology.
"Great!" She clasps her hands together and giggles. "So you'll do it then!"
Whitney and Raine start bouncing and giggling together. I don't join them. "Woah, whoa, whoa, I never said that. I let you have your fun but that still doesn't change my answer. I don't want to do it."
Their excitement dies down quickly and I almost feel a little guilty. Almost.
"Tyler, what do you want me to do?" Raine sounds exasperated. "I'm offering you a good deal here. Even if you took a summer job, it's not like you're going to get that kind of cash. I'm paying you a thousand dollars to check up on my boyfriend. And in the meantime, you get to lose a little bit of that baby fat, and hang out with a lot of hot guys. Heck, you might get a boyfriend out of this. Most girls would kill to be in your position."
"And those girls can have it." I reply.
"Well, no, they can't." She says.
"Why?" I ask.
"BecauseIkindofalreadysignedyouupforthecampandyouleavetomorrow." She says, and my eyes widen.
"You WHAT?!"
"I'm sorry! It's just that I'm really desperate! And I figured that if I already had you committed to it, you'd go ahead and do it. And plus, you're parents are going to be gone. All you have to do is go."
One of these days, I'm gonna...
"First, yes, you are desperate. Second, my parents are only going to be gone for two weeks, and I can't be gone when they come back. Third, my neighbor is going to be checking in while their gone, so if I'm not here, she's going to contact my parents. See, it's just not going to work!"
Whitney jumps in at this point. "Well, maybe you can check up on Evan for those two weeks that your parents are gone. And Raine could pay you for the time that you are there. As for your neighbor, you can leave that to us. We'll be sure to come up with reasonable excuses as to your absence."
Well, I guess I could use all the money I could get...
No! No, Tyler! This is a stupid decision! Everything goes bad for me, and I know without a shadow of a doubt, that this, no matter how much is planned, will end up going bad for me too.
But yet again, my mind betrays me, and the image of that car pops back up. I can already feel myself sinking into the vinyl seats, my fingers clenching around the leather steering wheel. Was I seriously willing to put my social reputation and my future love life on the line for a car?
Raine, sensing that I was preparing to give up, continues talking. "I already called camp, and enrolled you. They were booked, so I had to offer them a few more dollars to add you in. And since your name is already Tyler, I decided I didn't have to change that."
My eyes widen. "You kept my original name! If I did decide to join your little plot, I'd want to keep who I really am a secret. Not exploit it for extra misery! That's like writing a letter to Lex Luther and telling him Superman's name is Clark Kent. It's just wrong!" Words start falling out of my mouth in jumbles.
"What do you take me for? Stupid?" She asks. When I send her a look, she glares. "I gave you a different last name."
"What is it?" I ask, my nerves calming a bit.
"Ustinovich." She grins
My blood pressure was probably higher than what was healthy. I really am expecting to get an aneurism in the next few moments.
"Usti- what?!" I ask.
"U-sti-no-vich." She enunciates. "I got it off of those name generators on the internet."
Oh god. She gives me a last name I couldn't even pronounce, much less a group of football jocks. It sounds as flakey as John Doe.
"Look," Raine grabs my shoulders, now that she realizes she's losing me. "Everything will work out. Just leave the nitty-gritty stuff to me and Whitney, and you do all the dirty work, kay? You'll have the money to buy a car, and I'll be reassured that I chose a good boyfriend. Trust me, this will work."
My mind was screaming at me to say no. Eventually, Raine would give up the fight, and concede. I know this plan will turn south the moment I step my foot in that camp. But my eyes can't help but drift to my computer, and I can see myself again, driving away in that gorgeous red mustang. Away from this dead-end life and on to some real adventure. And hey, even if Tristan does torture me, at least I'll have a vehicle so I can run. Maybe it was worth the risk. Maybe.
Oh, who am I kidding? This is going to come crashing down.
But even with these facts running through my mind, all rational logic goes out the window, and I look at Raine, as I say the three words that will kick-start my demise. "I'll do it."
Goodbye Tyler Roth. Hello, Tyler Usti...Usti...whatever.
A/N: Alright, no this wasn't a humor chapter. These are just important details that lead to all the humor. Next chapter will involve lots of funny stuff. So stick with the story! I promise it gets really, really good. And of course, I'm bringing back the cliffhangers!
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