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Kent Dresher isn’t tough to locate. He’s sitting on top of a table in the middle of a bushel of BMA jocks. I don’t really want to get close to that viper’s nest, particularly when I spot the repellent Todd Bellinger, but Trina drags me right over there. When I get closer it looks like Kent is only talking to Corby King and some other guy who’s holding a hockey stick in one hand and a cheeseburger in the other.
Kent hops off the table and grabs up Trina for a quick feel while I stand around in all my awkward glory, knowing that at least a few pairs of unfriendly eyes are checking me out.
Trina giggles but then shoos her boyfriend’s hands away from her ass because she remembers that I’m waiting. “Stand down. Camden needs a word.”
Kent hardly looks at me. “What’s up?”
“Over there,” Trina says and gestures to the only empty table in sight. “Too many open ears in this corner.”
She’s right. Todd Bellinger and his boys have momentarily quit comparing dicks or whatever it is that guys of their ilk talk about. Todd is watching us with a predatory gleam in his eye.
He and his friends are still watching when I take a seat at the table with Trina and Kent but at least now they are too far away to hear anything. Kent is more interested in trying to prod Trina into giving him a lunchroom lap dance than in having a conversation but she rolls her eyes and motions that I should start talking so I blurt out a question.
“Do you know where Ben is today?”
Kent stops slobbering on his girlfriend and blinks at me. “Beltran? No. He isn’t here?”
“Do you see him?” Trina pokes her boyfriend in his mammoth muscles. “Obviously he’s not here.”
Kent shrugs. “Well, I’m not hiding him in my pocket.” Then he focuses on me and there’s a spark of understanding as he remembers something that must have slipped his mind. “Why don’t you know where he is, Galway? You’re his girlfriend.”
I straighten up. “I am not Ben’s girlfriend.”
And then, a distant, hopeful part of me asks, Or am I?
“Oh.” Kent frowns.
“Wait, did he tell you that I’m his girlfriend?”
“I think he did.” Kent yawns. “Yeah, he told me yesterday.”
I am not expecting this news. It changes the picture I had in my head, the picture of Ben flanked by all the jock jerks and crowing about how he got a piece of the uptight newspaper nerd. Maybe that’s not how it was at all. Kent isn’t all that bright and doesn’t really have a low volume setting. It’s possible that Ben was just confiding in his friend and the conversation got away from him.
It’s also possible that I should have approached Ben more calmly and listened to his explanation before blowing up and announcing that getting involved with him was a mistake.
Finally, it’s possible that I might really really suck.
Trina has already accepted my sudden relationship as fact. “You guys need to get your couples photo! There’s still time to make it into the yearbook.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I grumble while the cafeteria erupts with noise. Cole Travis and his band buddies are collected at the front of the room and plugging in music equipment.
“What’s going on?” Trina asks, squinting.
Kent is fiddling with her blouse buttons. “Who cares? Let’s get out of here.”
Cole switches on a microphone and launches into a hard rock, profane version of Santa Claus Is Coming To Town. Somehow I don’t believe this spontaneous performance has been faculty approved.
“Do you have his cell number?” I need to practically scream the question over all the noise.
Kent looks up from Trina’s cleavage. “Huh?”
“Do you have Ben’s number?” This question is shouted at an unfortunate pause in music. People hear me. They turn and stare. Fine. Let them stare.
I move closer to the Trina/Kent human pretzel and lean close so I can be heard. “I really need to talk to him.”
Kent is confused. “You’re his girlfriend but you don’t have his number?”
“Just give it to her,” Trina orders and when Kent doesn’t move fast enough she snatches his phone, scrolls through it and then nods. “There you go, Camden. I just sent it to you.”
