The Clubhouse - 7. Show and Tell

Tristan watched the contents of his stomach circle around the bowl. He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth as he slowly backed out of the handicap stall. There was a row of sinks lining the wall behind him. He walked over to the sink closest to the window and turned on the cold-water faucet. As he held his hands underneath the freezing spray, he stared at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. He ran a finger along the spot just below his right eye and winced. It was purple and swollen from where Eric Cartwright’s class ring had made contact.

Tristan barely had time to register the footsteps outside before the door flew open. The door banged into the nearby causing him to jump a bit. Finn stood at the entrance to the restroom. The first thing Tristan noticed was Finn’s jacket was missing which was jarring considering he’d never seen him without it.

The second thing he noticed was how his clothes fit against his body. Finn’s chest and biceps were currently testing the structural integrity of the black American Eagle polo he was wearing. Tristan could see every ab outlined underneath the thin fabric.

Finn walked over to Tristan and stood in front of him. He reached out and lifted his chin. The water continued to run as Finn examined his face. He felt his knees wobble a bit as it finally registered just how close he was to Finn and how close Finn was to him. He closed his eyes and tried to not think about all the blood rushing to the center of his body.

“Who did this?”

Tristan slowly opened his eyes. Finn was looking at him, waiting. Tristan cursed himself for not thinking of a story before texting him. After his encounter with Eric Cartwright, he’d clicked on the list of contacts in his phone. There were only four. Two of them lived on the other side of the country and there was no way he was calling his dad. That left Finn. He hadn’t expected him to show but here he was in the flesh. Within kissing distance.

“Tristan,” Finn said. “You’ve got to tell me who did this?”

The only thing he knew about Eric Cartwright was that he played football and that he’d gotten some sophomore pregnant last semester. The poor girl had ended up miscarrying and Eric had bragged about it to his friends. During PE he was usually with Tad Timmerson and another football player named Floyd Maynard. The three of them were quite popular and were usually the ones making the most noise in the locker room. Tristan was quite sure he’d seen Eric sitting at the same table Finn sat at once or twice. All the jocks were pretty chummy so there was no way of knowing if Finn was actually friends with the guy.

“I was coming out the locker room.” Tristan was surprised to hear the words coming out of his mouth. “Somebody ran into me. I didn’t see them. Next thing I know, I’m on the floor.” The lie was effortless as his body went into autopilot. “I think I may have blacked out or something. When I got up, they were gone. That’s when I texted you.”

Finn appeared to mull this over. Tristan looked back over at his reflection. The bruise underneath his eye was getting worse.

“Did they say anything?” Finn asked.

Don’t think I don’t see you staring at me, faggot.

Tristan had lost count of the many times that word had been lobbed at him during his brief encounter with Eric. Some would argue there were much worst words in the English language and depending on which word they were referring to; Tristan would’ve been inclined to agree. But for him that word hurt more than any fist ever could.

“I didn’t hear anything,” he said. “Like I said, it all happened so fast.”

Finn frowned and Tristan immediately felt like shit. The frown looked so out of place. A guy like Finn didn’t deserve to be upset or angry.

“You need to tell Mr. Townsend.”

Tristan shook his head, violently, and backed away from the taller guy.

“No,” he blurted.

Finn’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Why not?”

Tristan looked down at his feet and then at Finn’s. He was wearing hunter green Converse high tops with yellow laces. They were the same color as the jacket he wasn’t wearing.

“I just don’t want to make a big deal of this,” he said.

“What if it happens again?” Finn asked. “To someone else?”

Tristan managed to lift his gaze. He made eye contact with Finn for the first time since the other man had come into the restroom. His eyes were like hot coffee with a hint of creamer and sugar. There was something so innocent about Finn in that moment. Tristan wondered how it were possible someone like him even existed – especially in this town.

“Can I think about it?” he asked.

Finn opened his mouth as if he were about to say something. Tristan waited for him to object but nothing came. Instead he nodded his head.

“Okay,” Finn said running his hands up and down his arms. “If this is what you want.”

Tristan let out a deep sigh. “Thank you.”

Finn reached out and slapped him on the arm. “Don’t mention it,” he said. “Let’s go find some ice. That bruise is looking pretty nasty.”

With that, he turned around and started towards the door. Tristan reached over and turned off the sink. He caught himself in the mirror again. He was so grateful Finn had decided to drop the issue, at least for now. But what was he going to tell his dad? What is a teacher asked? What if he ran into Mr. Townsend? Mr. Townsend was the type of person who would definitely ask him about it, and he would definitely press the issue.

Tristan tore off a paper towel and wiped his hands. He then exited the restroom to join Finn.

~

“Last day of detention is officially over.” Tristan threw his bag into the backseat of Finn’s Jeep before climbing into the passenger’s seat.

“Maybe for you,” Finn said sliding in behind the wheel. He inserted his key into the ignition.

Tristan looked over at Finn who’d started to back out of his assigned parking space.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Let’s just say, when you texted me this morning, I sort of walked out of class without asking Mrs. Forrester.”

Tristan’s eyes widened as he clasped his hand over his mouth.

“Guess who has three more days of detention?” Finn was grinning from ear to ear as he said this.

“Finn, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean …”

Finn wave his hand in the air in a dismissive manner. “It’s fine, man. It’s like you said. How long do we really have left? I’m not about to get bent out of shape over a few extra days of detention.”

“Thanks, Finn,” Tristan said tugging at his seatbelt. “I really appreciate you coming to check on me. I do feel really bad about you getting in trouble.”

“Well,” Finn smirked. “If you’re really that tore up about it, you can make it up to me later.”

Finn went back to looking at the road in front of him which Tristan was incredibly grateful for. He reached up and touched his face. His skin was hot. He didn’t have to look in the side view mirror to know that his face was the same color as the socks he’d picked out that morning.

They were turning down his street when Finn spoke up again.

“Driving home yesterday, I noticed something. I meant to tell you about it this morning, but I guess it slipped my mind.”

He wheeled his Jeep into the empty driveway in front of Tristan’s house and parked. He pushed open the driver’s side door and got out. He looked over and Tristan and gestured for him to get out.

As Tristan unfastened his seatbelt and climbed out of the passenger’s side, Finn was already walking towards his backyard. Tristan closed the door and followed.

“Did you know we’re neighbors?” Finn asked as they moved past a old, rusted swing set that hadn’t been used since Tristan was three years old. Finn gestured to the wooded area that sat at the edge of Tristan’s backyard.

“Through those woods,” Finn continued, “Is a spring.”

“Yeah,” Tristan said. “My brother used to take me there all the time. We’d go swimming down there. Someone had even put up a tire swing, but my dad said it was too dangerous.”

Tristan followed Finn into the wooded area. Birds chirped noisily overhead as they pushed their way to the thick brush. He nearly tripped over a large root that was jutting out of the ground, but Finn managed to grab him before he ate dirt.

“Careful,” Finn said.

“Thanks,” Tristan said, flushing again for the second time in the last fifteen minutes. He brushed off the front of his jeans before continuing.

Ten minutes later the two of them stood in front of a small spring. Minor Springs had been named so because of a network of springs that ran throughout the town. The one behind Tristan’s house was the smallest of them. Back when he was younger, he and Everett would fill up Mason jars with spring water. Fast-forward to now, even if you put a gun to his head, you wouldn’t be able to get him to drink water from the spring.

Finn gestured towards the wooded area on the other side of the spring.

“Behind that patch of woods over there, is where I live.”

Tristan grinned. “Wow – so, you weren’t kidding when you said we were neighbors.”

“I used to come here a lot when I was younger,” Finn said. “But then my parents had a pool installed.”

“Yeah – I think I’d rather swim in a clean pool than in this. No telling what kind of parasites are in there.”

“I forget how beautiful it is out here. How quiet it is.”

“Funny how this is literally in my backyard and I never come out here,” Tristan said as he took in the scenery. Everything in front of him looked like a Bob Ross painting.

Finn looked over his shoulder, using his hand to shield his eyes from the intense sunlight breaking through the tree, and pointed at something behind them.

“Well, look at that,” he said.

Before Tristan had a chance to ask what “that” was, Finn had already walked off. Tristan turned around and saw what he was referring to. As he approached the thing Finn had been pointing at, he noticed that several pieces of plywood had been nailed together to create some sort of shelter. It reminded him of a treehouse except for it was on the ground.

“Wow,” Finn said stopping a few feet away from the structure. He turned to look at Tristan. “Do you know Braden West?”

Tristan recalled the guy who sat in the back of his American Government class. Braden was a bit shorter than Finn but was beefier which probably had to do with him being on the wrestling team. He’d seen him with Finn eating lunch in the courtyard at school but aside from that he didn’t anything else about him.

“I had a class with him last year.”

“Braden and I have been friends since we were little. He used to live next door to me and one summer he convinced his uncle to build us a treehouse in his backyard. For three straight summers we hung out in that treehouse. Then one day there was a storm and it got struck by lightning. This sort of reminds me of that treehouse.”

“I wonder who built it,” Tristan said. It looked old and two seconds away from falling in on itself. “I don’t remember this being here back when I used to come here.”

Finn shrugged. “Who knows. Doesn’t look like anyone’s using it.”

Tristan had never been the outdoorsy type. In fact, the times he’d come to the spring, his brother had practically had to beg him. Ansel had once talked about building a tree house after he, Tristan and Hannah watched The Sandlot one weekend. Hannah had vetoed the idea and Tristan had followed suit. He imagined the three of them having a place to disappear to during the summer. A place to hang out at and have snacks and talk about whatever topic popped into their young minds. He felt a pang of guilt for denying his old friend that opportunity.

“We better get back,” Finn said. “Emily’s supposed to come over so we can talk about prom.”

“That sounds fun,” Tristan said.

Finn stared at him for several seconds before shaking his head. “If that’s your idea of fun, we’re gonna have to get you out of the house more often, my friend.”

The two of them started their journey back to Tristan’s house. Tristan followed behind his new friend, beaming all the way.