The Break-up Prank: Part Four

Get caught up: Part One | Part Two | Part Three

“Dude.”

Jack looked up from his history book at the sound of the fervid whisper and found Tristan leaning around the back of his desk chair, his sand-colored hair hanging like thick, wavy curtains around his face. Fierce and fearless on the football field, especially when going after the quarterback, Jack noted his teammate looked unusually ill at ease. It sent an unwelcome tingle down his spine.

“What Tris?” Jack whispered back over the top of his textbook.

“Did you hear about Colin?”

Was it just Jack or was Tristan getting paler as he spoke? “I was there bro,” he answered, trying to make it sound casual, like there was nothing to worry about. After hearing Tristan’s question, Jack was pretty sure he understood why the big fella looked so gray. Tristan was an odd guy which may have been the reason they weren’t good friends, though after playing together so long, they had forged a shared comraderie. He knew Tris was with Lacey Summers and from what Jack knew of her, he figured Tristan had little to worry about. Lacey was known to be a little loose and she got around, so it didn’t seem to Jack like relationships were really her thing anyway.

“Oh man,” Tristan said, his eyes widening. Dropping his voice even lower he asked, “Did Missy really kick him in the nuts?”

Jack nodded as Tristan’s face scrunched up.

“Is he okay?”

“I think so,” Jack said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Damn. You don’t think that will happen to us, do you?” Tristan asked, looking worried.

Having misgivings already and then having seen what had happened to Colin firsthand, Jack found himself leaning toward chickening out on the prank so he wasn’t too concerned about himself. But he knew Tristan was a real ‘bros before hos’ kinda guy, so he took some time to consider Tristan’s question. “Nah,” he said. “You know Missy’s a loose cannon. Lacey doesn’t strike me as that kind of girl.”

Relief flooded Tristan’s face as he pushed his mop of hair back. “Cool man. I was kinda worried.”

“Don’t be,” Jack replied as Tristan turned away with a grateful smile.

Toward the end of class, Jack caught wind of a pungent, acrid odor and glanced around trying to locate the source. It was right there in front of him. Large, dark rings saturated the area around Tristan’s armpits and Jack could see the dampness matting his long hair. For a split second, Jack worried that maybe Tristan knew of a pop quiz that was coming but then he realized why his teammate had the nervous sweats. He was going to break up with Lacey after class. Jack usually saw them talking in the hallway between periods one and two. For some reason, Jack reached out and patted Tristan’s broad back about to offer some encouragement when the bell rang, setting of a rush of activity. He saw a trio of girls passing by in the next aisle looking excited though their giggles held a nervous edge.

“Oh my gawd,” one of the girls said, catching Jack’s ear. “I can’t believe she really did it.”

“I know, right,” said another girl.

The third girl was someone Jack knew: Missy’s friend Leann. He watched as Leann put a sisterly arm around each of the girls, pulling them in tight against her. “I have it on good authority it’s true,” Jack heard her say. “She totally kicked him in the balls!” Jack cringed as another fit of giggles burst forth from the girls, this time more giddy than nervous, and he hoped Tristan wasn’t listening. He glanced back at his teammate and saw the earbuds in Tristan’s ears. Good, thought Jack. Now was the perfect time for his teammate to be listening to his hype music, which is what Jack was sure he was doing.

Outside, the hallway was bustling with students darting here and there, twisting their bodies to avoid the small pockets of classmates gathered at various points in front of open lockers. With Tristan’s acrid sweat still lingering in his nostrils, Jack found the sweet-sour mix of perfume, body odor and cologne oddly pleasant. Quickly, he traded out his history book for his math book and headed for calculus class. The path to Mr. Digby’s room led right past Lacey’s locker and though it shouldn’t have, it still surprised Jack to see Tristan standing there, the hand of one meaty arm pressed against the lockers as he stood in front of Lacey. Jack glanced at the clock on the wall and found he had a few minutes to spare. He stood off to the side, behind one of Lacey’s friends, and tried to look as if he belonged.

“I’m sorry, what?” Lacey asked, sounding put out but looking nonplussed.

“I think we should break up,” Tristan said quietly, which Jack knew was very against his nature.

“Okay. Fine,” Lacey said, flipping her long, straight blonde hair before shrugging her shoulders. Jack was surprised to Lacey taking the news so well despite his earlier chat with Tristan.

“Cool,” Tristan said, his features softening like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He started to move aside so Lacey could get to class but instead of ducking out, she just stood there smiling. It was a weird little smile and it unnerved Jack to see and it occurred to him that if he was so unnerved, how was Tristan feeling? He couldn’t tell from the back of his teammate’s head, though, so he took a step forward and to the side to see if he could get a better read on things. What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

At the same time he saw Lacey’s fingers curl around the tops of Tristan’s shoulders, he saw Tristan’s body buckle and close in on itself. There was a kind of dull, squishy sound followed by a gurgling grunt. Alarmed, Jack forced himself to move, stepping quickly around Lacey’s friend, whose jaw had dropped, to get closer to Tristan. His jaw dropped, too, when he saw Tristan’s profile.

Bent at the waist with his hands on his knees like he was recovering from wind sprints, Tristan’s face was contorted into a jaw-clenching grimace as he looked at Lacey with bewilderment in his eyes which, to Jack, seemed to say ‘how could you do this to me?’ The heaviness in Jack’s gut returned as he stared at his teammate, realizing he’d set Tristan up with a false sense of confidence. Evidently Lacey was that type of girl. But before he could feel too guilty, things got worse.

As Tristan hunched over in front of her, the weird smile on Lacey’s face disappeared into pursed lips as she set her smooth, delicate jaw in concentration. Jack could still see a hint of her vibrant blue eyes, made brighter by the dark eyeliner surrounding them, even as she narrowed them, and they seemed to be blazing. Tristan looked like he was ready to collapse but Jack could see he was fighting it. Before Jack could think that maybe it was best if he didn’t, Lacey again grabbed Tristan’s shoulders and spun the defenseless he-man around, pushing him against the bay of lockers. Jack was close enough to reach out and pull her away but he found his arms, like the rest of his body, were ignoring his brain’s command for action.

Jack watched helplessly as Lacey stepped back and then drove her knee hard between Tristan’s trembling legs. This time, the sound of impact was louder, less squishy and more crisp, and the thwump echoed in Jack’s ears. His cringe only deepened when Lacey stepped back again, trying draw as much power as she could, like she really wanted to make the big guy hurt, and then kneed him in the balls a third time – probably the hardest of them all.

There was no fighting it. This time Tristan dropped immediately, straight into the fetal position with his back against the lockers as he held onto his crotch for dear life. Jack could’ve sworn he saw tears leaking from his teammates anguished eyes. He felt sick to his stomach at the sight of Tristan’s big frame curled into a tight ball as he coughed and gagged. Jack was so caught up in his despair that he didn’t even feel the knocking of his shoulder as Lacey brushed past him, flipping her hair self-righteously as she strode off down the hall.

Jack heard the gasps and giggles surrounding him, but they sounded as if they were coming from under water. He dropped to a knee and placed his hand gently on Tristan’s shoulder, not sure how to comfort him but trying anyway. He cast an angry glance at the several witnesses still lingering and, seeing the fire in his eyes, they quickly dispersed, though still chattering like chipmunks as they went.

“Fuck, Tris,” Jack said softly. “I don’t know what to say, man. You okay?”

Tristan looked up at Jack and the amount of pain radiating from his eyes caused Jack to gulp audibly. “Oh god, my balls,” Tristan moaned, closing his eyes.

Jack rubbed Tristan’s arm and tried to offer some solace. “I’m right here, man. Just try to breath normal and I’ll help you to the nurse when you’re ready.” Was this going to be his day? he wondered, taking all his buddies to see Mrs. Callahan? If it was, at least it wasn’t his nuts that were hurting, he thought.

The bell rang signaling the start of second period and the hallway emptied, leaving Jack and Tristan alone. Almost. From behind him, Jack became aware of a presence. He turned and looked up. It was Missy. She was smiling an irritating, haughty little smile and Jack glowered at her.

“Well, well,” Missy said through her smile. “What do we have here?”

In that moment Jack wanted to strangle her. He could see that she knew damn well what was going on, and worse, it was like she wanted him to know that she knew but was pretending not to. Instead of jumping to his feet and ripping her pretty head off, he summoned a menacing tone and said, “Now’s not a good time, Missy.”

Missy, ignoring his threat, pressed on. “Awwww, did Tristan get it in the babymakers?”

Jack almost snarled at her, curling his upper lip in disgust.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Missy said airily, “you don’t have to tell me. I know he did. I heard he broke up with Lacey and she kneed him in the balls. Three times. Ha ha ha!”

Before Jack could give her the finger, Missy was already sashaying merrily down the hall – like she was having the best day ever. He looked after her and it occurred to him how she should be angry or bummed or sad – anything but happy. After all, she’d just been dumped.

He looked down at Tristan, his misery still plain to see, and then back to Missy as her jaunty, sashaying body disappeared around the corner and he found himself wondering: Did kicking Colin in the balls really make her feel that good?

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