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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Clubhouse - 6. Question and Answer

“Aside from a few issues with subject-verb agreement, everything looks good.”

Finn thumbed through the stack of papers in front of him. There were a couple of things underlined and a few comments had been jotted in the margins. Tristan was watching him, his blue eyes, big and expectant. They reminded him of his nephew every time he showed off one of his LEGO creations.

He shook his head and looked back down at his paper.

“Wow. Thanks, man.”

Tristan’s shoulders slumped a bit.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

Finn looked up and shook his head.

“Oh, no. I’m just really … surprised.”

“I don’t know why,” Tristan said, a grin plastered on his face. “I’ve read Of Mice and Men more times than I can remember, and your observations were pretty astute. I used to tutor this guy, his dad works with my dad, and he had to write a 3-page paper on The Catcher in Rye. The whole paper ended up being about some guy named Mike Piazza.”

Finn snorted and nearly sprayed Tristan and his paper with Dr. Pepper. The noise caused the other faces around them to look up from whatever they were working on and look over at their table. Finn felt his face go hot and he saw that Tristan’s face was beginning to turn a brilliant shade of red.

Mrs. Becker had been replaced by Mr. Zager, a math teacher neither he nor Tristan had taken before. He was tall with straw like blond hair that stuck out from his head like a scarecrow. Finn had only seen him in passing a few times before and each time he looked as if he’d just taken a bite from a lemon or smelled something rotten. Emily had once told him Mr. Zager looked like a serial killer which he couldn’t exactly disagree with.

“Boys,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Please refrain from talking.”

Tristan lowered his head and Finn mouthed an apology to the man. Mr. Zager leveled one last beady-eyed glare in his direction before returning to the book he had in his hands.

Finn looked over at Tristan and grinned. Tristan returned his grin with the biggest smile he could muster. Finn let a few moments of silence pass before he learned forward. He looked around to see if anyone else was watching before he opened his mouth.

“I really appreciate you taking a look at this.” Finn gestured at the paper in his hand.

Tristan shrugged. “No problem.” He nodded at the paper. “I think you may have an A coming your way.”

Finn cocked a brow. “You think?”

“Finn, you’re a great writer.”

“Thanks, man. That really means a lot.”

Finn folded the paper and placed it inside his backpack. He would make corrections when he got home.

The rest of their second day in detention went by without incident. After Mr. Zager dismissed them at four, Finn and Tristan gathered their things and followed the others out of the library. One more day, Finn thought to himself as he walked out into the late-afternoon sun.

As he loaded his backpack into the rear of his Jeep, Finn noticed Tristan was heading out towards the main road. He quickly jumped behind the wheel and backed out of his parking space. As he neared Tristan, he rolled down the driver’s side window and leaned his head out.

“Get in,” he said. “I’ll drop you off.”

Tristan bit his lower lip and looked down at the ground.

“It’s fine. I just live …” Tristan pointed down the road. “A few blocks away.”

Finn rolled his eyes and pressed the button to unlock all the doors. He gestured towards the passenger’s side.

“Get in, Tristan,” he said.

Finn hoped his words sounded more like a command than a demand. He barely knew the guy but the idea of him walking home bothered him. He thought about something Emily once said to him.

“You’re too much of a gentleman,” she’d told him after he’d confessed to accidentally picking up a prostitute on his way home from baseball practice. There’d been heavy rain that afternoon and when he’d seen the young woman walking, holding a ripped plastic bag over her head, he’d felt bad for her. He pulled his father’s SUV up next to the woman and asked if she needed a ride. She happily obliged and hopped into the passenger’s seat. Five minutes into the ride, he learned that she was a single mother of three who’d lost her job a few months earlier. As they sat at a stoplight, she placed her hand on his then sixteen-year-old knee and asked if there was anything she could take care of for him. After dropping her off at the nearest gas station he’d sped home like a bat out of hell.

Thankfully, Tristan Goolsby was not a prostitute.

As the other man buckled himself into the passenger’s seat, Finn asked him for his address. After inputting the information into the Jeep’s navigational system, a prissy British voice started barking out directions.

“Your Jeep is … really, really … yellow,” Tristan said.

Finn laughed. “Isn’t it obnoxious?”

“Well … it’s not exactly a color I’d pick. Not that I’d ever be able to afford something like this.”

“I didn’t pick the color,” Finn said. “My parents this a few days ago. It’s an early birthday present.”

“Gotcha,” Tristan said. “I, uh, noticed the Duke license tag plate. Is that where you’re going next fall?”

“Not sure.”

“Isn’t that like a really good school?” Tristan asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“It’s one of the best schools in the country,” Finn said. “My dad went there. So did my two oldest brothers. My other brother would’ve gone there but he actually got into Harvard.”

“Wow – that’s pretty impressive.”

“Yeah.”

“Look, I don’t mean to pry but is that where you want to go?”

Finn glanced over at him. “You know my girlfriend, right?”

“Emily Branson? Yeah. We had Spanish together last year.”

“Well, Emily wants me to go to Vanderbilt with her next fall.”

“And your parents want you to go to Duke.”

Finn took a left onto the street Tristan’s house was on.

“Yup,” he said. “My dad serves on some board of directors there and he’s assured me all I would need to do is submit an application and it’s pretty much guaranteed I’ll be accepted.”

“What about Vanderbilt?”

“Honestly, I haven’t even applied.”

Tristan shifted in his seat.

“So, answer me this,” he spoke. “Where does Finn want to go next fall?”

Finn’s fingers dug into the leather of the steering wheel. He’d spent the last several weeks wondering the same thing and he was quite sure he knew the answer. It was a subject he was afraid of broaching with his parents and with Emily but there was something about Tristan. Something about him made him that made Finn want to finally say something out loud for the first time.

“I don’t want to go to Vanderbilt,” he said. He lets the words hang in the air for a little bit before he continued. “I don’t want to go to Duke, either.”

Damn, he thought. It felt good to say that out loud and have someone else hear it.

“Well,” Tristan said. “You don’t have to then.”

Finn laughed and shook his head.

“Are you sure you know my girlfriend?” he asked looking over at Tristan. “She’s not the kind of person you say “No” to. Neither are my parents.”

“Either way, sounds like someone’s going to be disappointed,” Tristan said. “Again, I ask, where does Finn want to go next fall?”

Finn pulled his Jeep into the empty driveway outside of Tristan’s house. The home was modest in size and was a bit on the old side. There was an orange rocking chair on the small front porch. The lawn appeared to be well maintained and there was a flower bed filled with bright pink and yellow tulips near the front door. He wondered what Tristan’s life was like inside.

“I’m not leaving this vehicle until you give me an answer, Finn Montgomery.”

Tristan sat with his arms folded over his chest. Finn put the Jeep in park and shut off the engine.

“I want to go to Old Miss,” Finn said.

“See,” Tristan said. “Now was that hard?”

“I’ve already been accepted and I’m waiting to hear back about a scholarship I applied for.”

“That’s great news, Finn.”

Finn looked over at Tristan and frowned. “Is it?”

“From where I’m sitting, yes.”

Finn closed his eyes and sighed.

“It just doesn’t feel like the right decision.”

“Question,” Tristan spoke. “Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?”

Finn scratched at his chin.

“Did I just break your brain?” Tristan asked.

Finn gave him a half-hearted grin. “No – but you gave me something to think about. I won’t be sleeping tonight because of you. You’ll owe me a coffee tomorrow morning.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to get up extra early so I can walk all the way to Starbucks. Hopefully your coffee won’t be cold before I get it to you.”

“Nonsense,” Finn said. “You won’t be walking to school anymore. I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll text you when I’m about to arrive.”

“A – you don’t have to pick me up. I don’t mind walking. I like the exercise. And B – I don’t even have your number.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “A – how about you stop being so stubborn and let someone do something nice for you and B – I put my number in your phone when you got up to sharpen your pencil. Oh, and C – you may want to consider locking your phone before you leave it sitting … especially around me. I have this nasty habit of sending really, really explicit texts from other people’s phones.”

“Is that so?” Tristan asked unbuckling his seat belt. “Well, note to self, I shouldn’t leave my phone lying around you.”

“Good decision,” Finn said with a smirk. “So, I’ll see you here tomorrow morning.”

Tristan rolled his eyes as he placed his hand on the door handle. “If you must.” He pushed open the passenger’s side door.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” Finn said. He watched as Tristan grabbed his messenger bag from the floor and closed the passenger’s side door. Tristan waved at him before disappearing inside his house.

As the door closed behind him, Finn exhaled. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest. Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy? He started the Jeep and put it in reverse. He had a decision to make. Maybe one of the biggest decisions he’d ever make. Either way, someone was going to be disappointed. He never imagined that person could be him.

Copyright © 2020 imperfect _pisces; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Great chapter. I like the signs of friendship that may be developing between Finn and Tristan. Both boys are very smart.

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Tristan gave Finn some pretty sound advice. If you can't please everybody, at least please yourself!  It does seem that Finn has a desire for Tristan's friendship.  It'll be fun to see where this goes, looking forward to the next chapters.

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I like these fellas and am pleased they are becoming friends.   It takes talent to set something like that up.

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