Class President

Part 4

Chelsea sat distracted by her anxiety in the passenger seat; her sticky tears slowly drying on her face. It wasn't until they were halfway through the drive that she realized Tristan wasn't going to her house; he was going to his. Resigned that she was going to have to face Jessabelle, she sat silently stewing in her disappointment. All she had wanted was to go home.

"Stay in the truck." It was the first time Tristan had said anything since she had yelled at him. His voice sounded strained, as if he was trying to sound calmer than he was, and his expression was still unreadable. If only he would talk to her.

"Excuse me?" Chelsea was offended, indignant almost. Why was he telling her to stay in the truck? Wasn't the whole point for her to confront Jessabelle? This conversation had loomed over her all day; she just wanted to get it over with.

"Stay in the truck." He barked more forcefully. His voice was gruff and demanding. Tristan had never spoken to her like that. Chelsea was taken aback. She sat in in the truck stunned. Tristan got out of the truck and walked inside. After a few minutes of processing, she changed her mind. This was between her and Jessabelle. He wasn't going to fight her battles for her.

"Stay in the truck my ass." She muttered under her breath and opened the door. She hopped down from the cab and slammed the door behind her. She marched up the sidewalk to the house, she was about to knock when she heard Tristan and Jessabelle arguing. Without knocking she pushed the door open and walked in.

"This isn't between us. You're not my best friend. I don't care that you lied to me all summer. Just mind your own business and keep it in your pants for once." Jessabelle's words were like acid.

"Like hell it isn't between us. It's Chelsea, who happens to be my girlfriend and happens to have been embarrassed today thanks to you. And, for your information, Chelsea and I haven't slept together. Not that it's anyone's business, but everyone seems to want to make it their business." Tristan didn't miss a beat.

Standing in the doorway Chelsea finally placed the facial expression. It was the same expression he had worn in kindergarten when Billy Noxly had pushed her off the top of the climbing wall because he thought she had stolen his goldfish at snack time. There wasn't an emotion that she could attach it to; but it was the expression that Tristan wore every time he had come to her rescue. Tristan was about to fall on his sword and take the blame. That's why he had wanted her to stay in the truck. If he went in alone, he could take the blame and Chelsea couldn't stop him. Jessabelle would run to her, apologize and he could figure out how to work it out with his stepsister later.

"Will you stop yelling!" She was still standing in the entry way, the door slung open to her left. Tristan and Jessabelle turned to look at her. Tristan's face melted; his plan was shot.

"This is between all three of us, because we all three played a part in what led to this argument." Jessabelle rolled her eyes at Chelsea's words and went to walk down the hallway. Tristan moved in front of her blocking her path.

"Sit down." Chelsea demanded. "I didn't want to do this today, but I'm here, and I'm pissed, and you are going to talk to me." Chelsea spat, moving across the room to sit in a chair across from the sofa. Sitting lasted about fifteen seconds before she was up pacing around the living room.

"You." She turned to look pointedly at Tristan. "You are not taking the blame for this. We chose not to tell Jess because I didn't know what was going to happen this summer. We were just having a good time at the beach, and I didn't know what to expect from you when we got back. You had never kept in touch with your other flings, so I didn't expect to be any different."

"Chels," Tristan's eyes were begging her to stop talking. She could almost hear his voice ringing in her ears. Just shut up and let me do this? She turned her focus on Jessabelle.

"I am sorry that I didn't tell you before I left Georgia. I was supposed to. We had talked about it, and I agreed that we needed to tell you before someone else did. I thought you would take it better from me than from him... I didn't know how to tell you though. He didn't know I hadn't told you yet and it just became a whole thing. Genevieve, or one of her minions, caught us this morning after you went to class. We didn't see them, but whoever it was took a picture or video or something. That's why Gen cornered me in the bathroom, she saw us and knew that I hadn't told you. She was trying to make you mad. She lives for starting drama, that's literally how she stays relevant."

"This is ridiculous," Jessabelle, tried to stand up to leave.

"What's ridiculous is what they are saying at school about Chelsea. Do you know where any of those rumors may have come from?" Tristan was still standing in front of the hall entrance with his arms crossed. He wasn't an incredibly tall guy, but right now he seemed to tower over Jessabelle. His brown eyes shadowed with disdain. Jessabelle's face darkened; her eyes shadowed with a menacing glee and a smugness fell over her. Chelsea was scared. She had never seen this side of her friend before.

"I didn't start those rumors, but I sure as hell didn't try and stop them either. You two lied to me all summer. You were supposed to be studying for the entrance exam, but you were off doing who knows what. So, no, I don't feel bad about what's going on. Karma's a bitch." Jessabelle stood in front of Tristan. The conversation was over, they might as well let her go. She turned back to face Chelsea. "You know if you would have told me this summer, either of you, I wouldn't have cared. I wouldn't have made it awkward. I wouldn't have pushed you in one direction or the other. I'd have minded my own business and let you figure it out. But you didn't trust me enough to tell me and that's the real problem." Chelsea nodded and Tristan let her pass. Jessabelle finished the short walk to her bedroom and slammed the door so hard the pictures in the living room rattled. Paramore started blasting from her room, and Chelsea knew they were finished for good.

"Paramore, wow. She only breaks that out when she's been dumped." She collapsed onto the sofa; her body felt heavier than usual, like gravity was pulling her into the sofa making her disappear into the cushions. "I really screwed up Tristan." He nodded knowingly.

They had been friends for years, through new romances, break ups, and friendships ending. Somehow friendship breakups always seemed harder than their romantic ones. The most memorable and devastating friendship breakup was Genevieve.

At one point she had been the fourth member of their group. However, Genevieve had become a Regina George clone sometime between bailing halfway through the summer beach trip and freshman orientation. She was now two good to speak to them and she made it known they had all been dropped. Jessabelle had taken the brunt of the newly minted mean girls' hatred. It had truly been a friendship breakup for the books, even the theatre kids thought it was overdramatic. Their feud had kept the schools gossip column going months. It eventually died down when people got tired of hearing about it and Genevieve realized she wasn't going to get attention from the feud anymore. They had been stewing in a cold war ever since. Maybe now that war had ended because they had found a new target, someone they both hated.

"Come on, I have ice cream to eat, and we have a campaign to prepare for." She held out her hand and Tristan interlocked her fingers. She wasn't going to go down without a fight, and despite the bad press, they had never been more popular.