Palm Print

Chapter 12

I couldn’t believe it was Friday already. School had flown by this week and, surprisingly, there was already a ton of homework. They weren’t lying when they said college and high school were night and day.

I had a math test next week on Wednesday and an English paper due next Friday. It was the first week, for crying out loud.

That wasn’t even the worst part. In Ethics and Morals, I needed to prepare an argument about Socrates’ imprisonment and read half of Plato’s Republic. In Psychology, not only did I need to do the Myers-Briggs personality test, but I also had to write a paper about my results and why I agreed or disagreed with them, due on Tuesday.

Finally, in good old History class, Miss Summer wanted us to write a five-page paper on a documentary about the Mongols. What the hell was this?

“It’s literally the first week,” I groaned. I really didn’t want to cancel my bungee jumping trip.

My phone pinged. Brandy had sent a photo of herself with her family at a nice seafood restaurant. I zoomed in on the photo. Brandy was so gorgeous, her dimples were just perfect.

Brandy texted: "I wish you were here. Love you, bitch."

I replied: "Love you too. When will you be back?"

She answered: "Around 7 or so."

I responded: "Okay, see you then."

She sent me a photo of her blowing a kiss. I sent one in return, saying: "Happy Birthday."

“Taylor!” Tristan shouted, shaking my head.

I looked up at him and said, “Kill me, please.”

Tristan smiled and sat down next to me. He pulled out his tablet and worked on his math homework.

“What happened?”

“I have assignments due next week already. We just fucking started!”

Tristan tapped my head. “Maybe you shouldn’t have taken five classes, dumb dumb.”

I pushed his head, replying, “How about you suck my dick, dumb dumb.”

“Anyway, so are you joining the historical literature club?”

I shrugged my shoulders and then tapped on my MacBook. I leaned back into my chair and looked at the ceiling of the library.

“I want to, but I don’t know if I can handle being in a club when all of my teachers want to give this much homework.” I turned to him, “Are you joining any clubs?”

“Ethan and I are going to join a fraternity.”

“Are you serious!?” I accidentally slapped the desk.

“He didn’t tell you?” he asked.

I began to hiss while crossing my arms. I glared at the sea of bookshelves and nodded my head as I sucked on my teeth. I was going to kill him.

“I’m joking,” Tristan said.

I hit his arm, saying, “Dick.”

Tristan looked at the time but continued working on his math homework.

“I can’t believe we have a test on Wednesday,” he said, stretching out his shoulders.

“I have assignments due next week for all my classes. This is ridiculous. Also, what are you getting Brandy for her birthday?”

He shook his head while tapping the desk. “That’s why I need your help. I asked Ethan, but he’s already getting her the thing he suggested.”

I rolled my eyes, saying, “You shouldn’t have waited until the last minute.”

“What are you getting her?” He asked.

I put my MacBook into my bag and gathered my belongings. “I got her a box set of various fragrances, an outfit, and some cookies.”

Tristan put his tablet into his backpack and gathered his stuff. “Fuck, man.”

“Just get her something from Bath & Body Works.”

We exited the library and continued to his car.

He readjusted his backpack and said, “So, is it too late to get tickets or whatever for your bungee jumping trip?”

My eyes widened, and I turned to him. “You want to come?”

“Yeah, I want to surprise Brandy with the trip. I feel like any gift I get her now at the store won’t be as good as what you and Ethan got her. What do you think?”

Before he was able to finish his monologue, I had already placed an order for two more tickets. “I added you to my group and got a discount.”

“Just pay me whenever.”

He nodded, and we entered his car. Tristan put on his seat belt and turned to me. I looked puzzled for a while, but then I realized I didn’t have my seat belt on and he wasn’t going to start driving until I did. I complied, and we continued.

One thing about Tristan was that he drove like an old man. The speed limit was 45, yet he drove 35. He checked every mirror a thousand times while driving, even when there were no cars around.

“It’ll be next year by the time we get there,” I said.

He checked his rearview mirror again. “Sure is.”

“Tristan, bruh, hurry up.”

The light turned yellow, and he slowed down. As multiple cars continued through the light, my eyes bulged as Tristan stopped at the light.

“Tristan, go. We can still make it!” I shouted.

Tristan shrugged. “The light is turning red.”

“It’s yellow!” The light turned red. “Tristan, oh my God.” I slumped in the seat, shaking my head.

“You’ll be alright.”

“You’re such an old man.” I smiled, turning on his radio. The song ‘Best Friend’ played, and I screamed. I turned up the volume as the light turned green.

“That’s too loud!” Tristan shouted as we crossed the street.

I laughed, rolling down the window and taking off my seatbelt. Terror covered his face as he realized what I was about to do.

“Taylor, stop!” he pleaded, trying to keep his eyes on the road while observing me.

I stuck my body out the window and laughed, feeling the wind colliding against me. My heart thumped and my stomach felt light; everything slowed down for me, and it felt like I was going to fall out of the car.

I shouted, “Woo!”

Tristan tried to slow down, but a car honked behind him, causing him to speed up slightly. I laughed, feeling him trying to pull me back into the car.

“Taylor quit playing!” he pleaded frantically.

I rapped along to “Best Friend” while slapping his hand and shaking my hair into the wind.

“Are you crazy?” he began. “We’ll go to jail if a cop sees you.”

“You better hurry up and get to the store then,” I laughed.

“Taylor!”

The downtown stores were in view, and I continued rapping while Tristan cautiously drove and tried to pull me back into the car. He cussed me out, saying he was never going to let me in his car again. He always said that, and the more I did it, the funnier his reactions became.

He parked in the lot of the strip of stores interconnected to one another. Bath & Body Works was having a sale, and so was Dick’s Sporting Goods. I stuck my body back into Tristan’s car, and he was breathing heavily, covering his heart. I laughed, and he glared at me.

“Are you okay?” I asked, smiling.

“Fuck you,” he gasped. “You’re not riding with me anymore.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” We left his car and entered Bath & Body Works first.

We wandered around the store smelling various fragrances and lotions. We were supposed to pick up a gift for Brandy, which we were, but I was finding things for myself rather than helping Tristan.

Tristan was also angry with me and glared every so often. I interlocked arms with him and smiled.

“Get the fuck off me,” he groaned.

“Tristan.” I laughed.

We stumbled across a basket sale. It consisted of two fragrances, a lotion, a hand soap, and also bath soap. We smelled various fragrances, and he asked my opinion on which one he should get. I suggested the lavender or the peach one, and he decided on getting her a peach forest set, which was good. I was definitely going to sneak and use some of Brandy’s stuff.

The cashier rang us up, and afterward, we walked to Dick’s Sporting Goods. We entered the camping section and observed several tents.

“Do you think your dad will let us use his van?” I asked.

“His van?” Tristan replied.

“It’ll be easier to carry everything around since all four of us are going.”

“I’ll be right back. I’ll call him.”

Tristan left to call his father, and I continued looking at the various tents. I should have gone shopping for a tent last week, but good thing I didn’t. This would probably be the only time procrastination saved me.

I entered a large blue tent, taking in its spacious surroundings. I thought this one would be perfect—not only could all four of us fit, but there was also some privacy as well. I found a worker and purchased the tent. Tristan approached me.

“He said yes,” Tristan stated.

“Good deal,” I began. “We should probably pick up some food as well. Should we get fish or something else?”

“How are you going to cook fish out there?”

“Campfire, duh.” I laughed. “We’ll get some chips and other stuff as well so we don’t have to cook all weekend.”

“Taylor, no. We’re not going to cook anything.”

We left Dick’s Sporting Goods.

“Why not?” I asked, entering his car.

“Because none of us can make a fire. Just get already made stuff,” he answered.

“Look here,” I leaned toward him, “you can either willingly get it now, or when Brandy finds out that we’re going on a camping trip and there’s no fish, she’s going to force you to go get her some.” I turned on the radio. “The choice is yours.”