Page 130 of Sharkbait
“What?” I say.
“Play along. Please. Humans are six times more likely to be killed by this domestic animal than a shark,” she repeats.
“Of course, of course. What are cows?”
“That’s incorrect. The answer is domestic pigs. The sound of this fictional character’s iconic breathing was developed by studying scuba divers.”
“Oh, I know this one! Who is Darth Vader!”
“Correct. These brainless, umbrella-shaped marine animals have been known to shut down nuclear power plants on more than one occasion.”
“The answer is ‘What are jellyfish?’ but Louise, seriously, tell me what’s going on.”
At the sound of Louise’s name, the man turns around.
I don’t like to judge a book by its cover, or a man by his ascot, but at first glance, this man has asshole written all over him. Though likely, my instant aversion to him has less to do with his choice of neckwear and far more to do with the fact that Louise is practically shrinking into herself in his presence.
“Louise! Long time no see! Your work has really… moved along.”
He scans the painting again, then turns back to her with a phony grin.
“What are you doing here?” she says.
He looks at me and extends a hand. “Hi. Trent. And you are?”
“James.” I accept his handshake, but I don’t like it.
“You Louise’s current playboy?”
“Excuse me?” My internal temperature immediately rises.
Please don’t punch this guy and cause a scene.“Trent,” he repeats, placing a reverent hand on his chest, like that name alone should ring important bells for me. “Louise’s first love. After our breakup, I heard she went on a bit of man-spree trying to forget me.” He looks me up and down. “I guess that’s still on-going.”
Louise’s voice is low when she says, “I didn’t go on a man-spree, I just—I was experimenting for a while, and—”
I stop her right there. “You don’t owe an explanation to me. Or this guy. Or anyone for that matter. You could have ‘spreed’ with an entire squadron at fleet week, and that wouldn’t change a thing about how I feel about you.” I pause. “Nothing could change the way I feel about you.”
“Awwww,” Trent coos. “You two are so sweet.”
“What brings you here tonight, Troy?” I ask.
“It’s Trent,” he says, offended.
“My apologies. Louise has just never mentioned you before, so.”
He scoffs. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Believe it.” I take Louise’s hand in mine.
His eyes dart down to where we’re connected.
“I came here tonight because I’m working for a gallery now in the Berkshires. I came across an article about a girl who’s helping to rehabilitate marine animals through art. I was impressed, Louise. Seems you learned a lot from your time with me.”
He turns his back on her to study the painting again.
“Wait a damn second,” she says, but then shuts her mouth as quickly as she opened it.
Her body tenses beside me. I see the emotions welling up inside her, but she’s trying to keep a lid on them.
