Chapter 4: The Locker, Part 3

Tristan glanced over his shoulder at Cianne before stepping in pace with Brian. "What's up?"

"I thought I would jump in and save you from embarrassing yourself. Damn dude, tell me you weren't about to do what I think you were about to do." Brian chuckled.

His friend's loud laughter never bothered Tristan before but today he felt it like coarse sand moving over his exposed nerves. Cianne brushed him off again and even though he never let it trouble him before, this time, it did.

"What are you talking about?" Tristan thought it best to pretend not to know what he was being accused of as they walked into their homeroom.

Brian sat down at the desk next to Tristan and blatantly stared at him, while Tristan stared blankly straight ahead. Tristan wondered how long it would take his friend to realize he was being ignored. After a few students passed between their desks, Brian finally spoke up.

"You know what I'm talking about. Cianne? Don't think so playa." Brian snorted. "She only dates college guys, remember?"

"Maybe," Tristan murmured. He waved hello to a couple of girls who touched his shoulder as they made their way to their seats in the back of the room.

"Yeah, ok." Brian shook his head. "If the fact that she's never dated anyone here at West Hills doesn't drive it home for you, as far as I know, she's never dated anyone at Westbrook either. Believe me, I've asked around."

Tristan's brows wrinkled as he returned Brian's famous stare-down. There was so much he wanted to say but all he could get out was, "Really?"

"What? I was curious," Brian explained with a crooked smile.

"Curious?" Tristan laughed. "So, you've resorted to interrogating her friends?" This amused Tristan because he had done the very same thing. Well, he wouldn't really call what he did interrogation. Cianne's name may have come up on occasion when he was talking to some people who knew her.

For Brian to ask around, now that was interesting. His closest friend wasn't the kind of guy who did research on a girl. Brian approached dating as a numbers game. He simply saw a girl he liked and asked her out. Brian once told Tristan that it really wasn't a big deal if a girl turned him down because he would just move on to the next one. The more he asked, the more chances he had to secure a date. The strategy worked well for him.

"I'm a guy. I would have to be either dead or into you to not get worked up over Cianne Baxter." Brian broke eye contact to speak to a cute brunette whose name Tristan hadn't memorized yet, then met Tristan's gaze again. "Look," he whispered, "Brenda is wearing my new favorite shirt."

As discreet as possible, Tristan looked toward the classroom door but didn't focus on the voluptuous Brenda, who was rumored to buy her shirts a size too small to emphasize her shapely look. Instead, he thought about how Cianne looked in the new top she wore today. The sudden shift from the image of Cianne standing by her locker just minutes ago to images of her hugging on some random college guy made him pulse with anger.

In the four years they've known each other, Cianne had never even given him a second glance. He was aware that he was just as good as any college guy; he just needed a chance to prove it. Tristan frowned as he realized that his teeth and palms ached. He pushed the thought of Cianne with some other guy out of his mind as a wave of awareness hit him. He felt the rumble of his own laughter bubble up out of him as he contemplated his feelings of jealousy.

Tristan ignored the questioning look Brian gave him and gave himself a mental scolding. Jealousy was a foreign emotion for him, and right then he decided that it was one he could do without.

. . . . . . . . . .

Tristan was gone. Cianne pursed her lips, slowly exhaled, and rested her shaking hands on the frame of her locker. She tried to disregard the looming presence behind her but even when silent, Tranae was hard to ignore.

"Don't give me that look," Cianne said, as she closed her locker door. She turned to face her best friend who happened to be wearing her patented ‘What is wrong with you?' expression.

"How did you know I was behind you?" Instead of waiting for an answer, Tranae just rolled her eyes and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Why didn't you talk to him? You could be a little friendlier since you guys share the same space this year."

"I had nothing to say. Or would you have preferred, Thanks for finding my phone Tristan and uh, I've been aching, just plain aching to kiss you for all of four years, do you mind?'" Cianne said sarcastically.

Tranae rolled her eyes. "That would have been better than turning your back on him day after day."

"Yeah, well." Cianne shrugged, as she slipped her fingers under the strap of her bag and lifted it higher on her shoulder. They walked down the corridor side by side, instinctively avoiding a large number of students that filled the hall around them.

"Don't you think it's time you've gotten to know the opposite sex a little better?" Tranae asked. The two hurried down a set of stairs and into their homeroom. ". . .and I don't mean tutoring them either."

"I know the opposite sex," Cianne countered with a smirk. The room was almost full, but they managed to find seats next to each other.

"I mean up close and personal. Spending time alone, kissing, touching, faking orgasms." Tranae wiggled her brows. "You know. . .the normal things girls our age do when we like a guy."

"I'm pretty sure none of that is going to make me normal, and why don't the guys I tutor count? Aren't they the opposite sex?" Cianne pouted playfully.

"You know what I mean Cianne. Aren't you even a little bit curious about dating? The only guys you spend time with are those college idiots you tutor," Tranae paused and raised a finger. ". . .and no, they don't count."

"No, not curious in the least." If she was entirely truthful, dating was an interest of hers, but Cianne decided long ago that it wasn't an option. Especially with someone like Tristan. "I'm shy I guess."

"Bullshit! You. . .are not shy." Tranae laughed as she leaned her upper body closer to Cianne. "The only guy you freeze up around is Tristan. You act totally normal around other guys. Look chick, you're too beautiful. . ." Tranae sighed when Cianne exhaled forcefully. "Well, you are. Is it so bad that you were blessed with beauty? Just accept it already, I have." She popped her collar. "Now, like I was saying. You're beautiful and smart, and the nicest person I know. Doesn't all that cancel out that little issue you think is so bad that you don't deserve love?"

"I can live without that kind of love, Tranae. Mother Teresa did. I just want to focus on my education." Love is overrated. "What you need to do is stop focusing on me and worry about yourself. What are you going to tell your father about your cell phone?"

Tranae rolled her eyes as she reached inside her purse. "So, you want to be a nun now," she continued, "and what are you talking about? My baby is just fine." She gave Cianne a suspicious look as she held up her colorfully bejeweled lifeline.

The homeroom bell rang out just as their homeroom teacher, Mrs. Franklin, slowly pulled the door closed. She allowed a few more stragglers in before shutting it softly. All conversation ceased as the morning announcements went out over the intercom.

Cianne watched Tranae unpack her books. Homeroom was the only classroom time they shared in the last seven years. When the bell rang, Cianne would go to the third floor which was exclusive to AEA students.

West Hills High School was one of the ten schools in the State that offered the program. AEA or Academic Enrichment Academy was a program that was offered only to those students who excelled in academics, which was Tranae's weakness. One of her few as it were.