The Super-Duper Ch. 01

"You asshole," Somalia mumbled.

"Excuse me?" he said to her.

"You all are assholes. Every one of you is an asshole," she mumbled once again. Her face was nuzzling his powerful-looking chest as she spoke. "You... you... you" she said as she pointed at his chest with each word. He gazed down at her sleeping face and realized that she was talking in her sleep.

"Is she always like this when she gets drunk?" Tristan asked Gumby.

"Honestly, I haven't seen her drunk before. Usually, Molly is the calm and collected one. She's the responsible one. Tonight, she was really frazzled, because she was knocking back drinks like its water. You guys must've really done a number on her."

"What?" he said, feeling curious of what she meant, as he glanced down at the diminutive woman who stood next to her. "What do you mean by that?" he inquired.

Gumby inhaled a deep breath and let out a gust of air, before speaking. "I can only go by what Molly has told me from earlier tonight. The stuff that she has told me about you and your little crew makes me not like you guys. Yes, you are one hell of a cool cat now, but the pain that I see in her eyes whenever she talks about you, makes me want to rip out your throat with my teeth. I think going out with you guys tonight, must've brought back those memories for her, so that's why she was drinking heavily tonight."

"I've never bothered Big Rhonda. Sure, we've played around but we've never—

"Hurt her feelings? Was that what you were about to say to me? Why is that bullies—

"Bullies?"

"Yes, bullies. What is it with you guys and not accepting the responsibility of your actions, when you get older? Ya'll guys go to the high school reunion, ya'll giving hugs, giving high-fives, taking pictures and kissing babies, as if ya'll were some choir boys or something like that. And then, have the audacity to pretend none of your misdeeds ever existed?"

"I've never—

"Oh, really?" she said, with an obvious flaring temper. "I guess you haven't notice how tense she is whenever she's around you guys, as if, she is waiting for one of you to do something bad to her." She waited for his response. He didn't say anything, so she continued talking. "When I was a kid, I was bullied... a lot, so I know that feeling very well. It's like the feeling you get, when you know when you're about to get punch in the face."

"I've never hit her or struck her in any way, Gumby" he stated.

"Yeah, but you probably haven't called out your friends when they did it to her, so you're in the same boat with those assholes."

Tristan thought back to his days when he was a student at Walcott Academy as he carried Somalia in his arms. He reminisced about his interactions with Big Rhonda, when they were students. He remembered having to share a lunch table in the cafeteria, during their designated lunch periods. He was about to tell Gumby that she was wrong about him and about his friends, as well as, rub her face in it, when he remembered those memories in entirety. Every time Big Rhonda would sit at their table, they were forced her to sit at the very end of the twelve-foot long table, while they sat at the opposite end. He remembered the boys and he created a game, where they would throw small items at her. They would try to throw their desired objects at her head, because it was the body part that 'cost the most points'. There was an incident where Eli had thrown a small carton of milk at her, the object had struck her on her face and the carton splattered. Of course, the action had caused a gaggle of laughs from the students who witnessed it, which he assumed added more to the humiliation that she felt. For the lunches that occurred after that incident, he noticed that she would eat her lunch inside of the girls' bathroom.

Then, there was that one occasion, where he had to do a class project in his French History class and she was his partner. The teaching professor Monsieur Thompson had split his class of students into a team of two and he gave them different subjects to do their project on. When Tristan was partnered with Big Rhonda, he physical cringed from disgust. The project that was assigned to them was a presentation that explained the history of The French Revolutionary War and its grade represented half of that semester's final marking grade. During class, he was sort of kind to her, but it was only because none of his friends were in that same class, so none of them could witness the behavior. It was due to his shallowness and flightiness that Big Rhonda ended up completing the project alone. Her work had owned them both a high score for that project.

To not prove Gumby, as well as, tried to assuage his ego, he tried thinking of other memories where he was nice to Big Rhonda. But, with each memory that his brain conjured up, there was another one that displayed his shitty character, not lurking too far behind. Times when the Crew would invite her to parties and places that didn't exist. There were incidents when they would make fun, by calling her 'a beast' or 'tall and ugly". Last, he thought of the night of Julian's conception and the incident that occurred afterwards. His face drained of color and his jaw had gone slack at the realization that he was an absolute jerk to the woman that carried his child in her womb.

'No wonder she didn't tell me about Julian. She must've been terrified of what my reaction would've been.'

"Hey" was the sound that broken him out of his thoughts. He glanced over at the woman who stood next to him. "I advise you to wait until later to pick your face up off of the floor, just so you don't drop my sister-in-law."

Before Tristan could respond, in his defense, the elevator arrived onto their floor. Gumby walked out of the lift and guided Tristan to the women's hotel suite.

Tristan noted that Big Rhonda and the one that was nicknamed Gumby were staying in a very nice suite. It was decorated and styled in a way that screamed "I cost money!" to Tristan, with its crown moldings, chandeliers and fancy furniture. "Very nice suite," he said as he surveyed the living room. "It looks better than mine. But then again I am shacking up with four guys, who have the place smelling like feet, corn chips and ass," he joked.

"Thanks..."

Gumby had said as she strolled across the living room to an entryway that formed an arch and had its double doors closed. She pushed the doors opened and it revealed a bedroom.

"You can bring her in here," she instructed.

Once he placed Big Rhonda onto the mattress that was a part of the lavished bed, he took a look around the room. There was a huge, four-post canopy bed that was donned with authentic furred blankets and pillows. There was the standard matching bedside tables. A light fixture that was made out of deer antlers hung from the ceiling. There were two opened doors, aside from the entrance, in her bedroom. He learned that one door led to a walk-in closet while the other one was the entrance to the bathroom. Inside if the lavatory was a big, round Jacuzzi tub, two sinks, a toilet and a bidet, as well as a shower stall that was made from slate stone and glass.

"It's a very nice room indeed" he said to himself as he entered back into the bedroom.

Tristan was peeling off Big Rhonda's shoes off, when Gumby entered the room.

"That better be the only things that you are taking off of her," she warned as she trekked into the adjoining bathroom.

He heard running water, a few seconds later and then it cutting off. Gumby returned with a damp washcloth and then proceeded to wipe the makeup off of an unconscious Big Rhonda's face. As cleaned off her face, Tristan was massaging the woman's feet. As his fingers kneaded at the smooth skin, he wondered if she had anybody to do this for her, when she was pregnant.

"You have a foot fetish or something," Gumby asked him, as she twirled the wet rag in her hand, "cause you sure our spending a lot of time massaging her feet and she ain't awake to enjoy it. It's always the rich ones to be the weirdoes with the freaky habits...." She said as she strolled into the bathroom. "...I betcha you like to parade around your mansion, wearing ladies' underwear."

"Hardy-har-har," he said in a sarcastic tone. "Just for that, I should call the front desk and cancel the rental of this suite."

Gumby came to the bathroom's doorway."You wouldn't dare," she stated. "If you did, you wouldn't have your shot at Molly and getting the chance to be in your son's life," she informed him.

"You think that this is the only way that I can get into Julian's life? You don't think that I haven't thought of any other plans, in order for me to be in my boy's life?"

Gumby's eyes had gone narrower as she seethed in anger. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? Do you plan on taking her boy—?

"He's my son too," Tristan corrected her. His anger had risen quickly and now it matched hers.

"If you take her boy away from her, it will kill her!" Gumby told him. "You might as well consider her to be dead, afterwards. She and Julian has gone through so much shit—

"Hey, Julia Roberts, calm the fuck down. Your dramatics is annoying," he said to her.

Gumby's response was giving him the finger. He gently placed Somalia's foot on the mattress and walked out of the room. Gumby wasn't too far from behind. Tristan walked into the living room and sat on a sofa. Gumby stood in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest.

"If I have to go to family court to be a father to Julian, then I will go to court. But I am not taking Julian away from his mother. I just want to be with my son, in the same way that she is with him."

"Do you plan on confessing everything to her during our stay here?" Gumby asked.

"Why do you want to know? You're afraid that I might ruin your trip?"

"Fuck you, Tristan" she said to him. She walked out of the room and into her own bedroom.

"Can you please pass me a blanket and a pillow out of your room?" he shouted across the room.

"Eeeexxxxxccccuuussssee me" Gumby had said from her bedroom, in over-dramatic, drawn-out way. She returned to the living room and stood next to a lone chair. "Why would you need a blanket and a pillow? You..." she pointed an index finger at him, "....sir, are about to get the fuck out of here and leave us alone for the night."

"No, I'm not..." He reclined into the sofa. He stretched his legs out in front of him. "...I am going to stay here for the night and will be here to take care of her, when she gets up tomorrow. I know she will be having one hell of a hang over."

"And what the fuck do you think I am? Chopped liver? I can take care of Molly. I don't need—

"No, you will not. I will be here. You will be hanging out with Chelsea and her sister Cassandra tomorrow. You will be shopping and enjoying yourself. Don't worry I will be giving you my credit card, before you leave. And you don't have to worry about showing I.D. Majority of these stores are expecting you. And while you're gone, you will go to a shop called Exquisite and you will be picking up a package for me. Ask for a salesperson by the name of Penelope."

"What the fuck do you think I am? Your servant or a personal assistant?"

"As of right now, my employee, after all I am the reason why your business is staying afloat."

He watched her huff and pouted and walked out of the room. She returned a few minutes later with a few bed linens, a feathered-down comforter and a pillow. He accepted the items and proceeded to make his makeshift bed. He felt Gumby's staring intensely at him as he made his bed.

"How has she been doing lately? Does she mention her job or anything?" he asked Gumby, as he tucked a corner of a sheet into the couch.

"From what she told me, she likes the job. I think she is happy to have just one job, instead of the three part-time jobs."

"Anything else you want to tell me?" he asked.

"If this is your way of asking me if she seeing anybody, then the answer is 'no'. Molly isn't seeing anybody. She hasn't since she fucked you. I think you have scarred her to the point that she wants to stay out of the dating scene."

"I plan on fixing that" he grumbled, as he spread out the comforter. He sat down on the couch and then proceeded to take off his shoes. "How's my boy?" he asked as he took off the right boot.

A chuckle had slipped out of her which made Tristan look at her. He noticed a glow was displayed on her face and joy radiated out of her eyes. He recognized that look: his mother has the same look when she is talking to a friend about his siblings and him. It was the look of pride and love that one has for their children. It was the expression that let him know that Gumby loved that boy as if she birthed him herself.

"He's doing great. He is on a camping trip right now. He won't be back until the 18th of August. He's growing quicker than a weed. Soon, he will be your size. He still looks exactly like you, except he's a little tanner than you."

Tristan let out a chuckle as he taken off his other shoe.

"He's asked about you" she stated as she gazed at him. She noticed that he stopped unbuttoning his shirt. "...Well, not exactly about you, but he's been asking me questions about you a lot lately, which makes me, wonder if you have had any contact with him."

"No, I haven't had any contact with Julian," he informed her. "The only time that I had contact was through the stuff that you give me and the stuff from what the private investigator that I hired gave me."

"It better be," she warned. They both gave each other angry glares as he continued to unbutton his shirt.

"Speaking of which, you owe me a payment," he stated as he peeled off his shirt.

He heard her suck her teeth in irritation. He also heard her say "what do you want: pic or vid?" to him. He draped his shirt over an arm of the sofa, before answering, "I want pictures."

"I'll see what I have on me," she said, before announcing that she was going to bed and a curt 'good night' to Tristan.

If he didn't know that Gumby was mad, the sound of she slamming the bedroom door shut was a clear sign. He stripped out of his pants and gave them the same treatment that he had given his shirt, before slipping into his 'bed'.

A few hours managed to float on by and Tristan was still awake. Sleepless and not tired, Tristan gotten out of his makeshift bed and roamed the suite. First, he made some use of the small bar area that was there, by making himself a drink. Second, he checked in on Big Rhonda to see if she was all right. She was okay and was still asleep. Third, he had gone back to the living room and stood in front of the large windows and took in the view. It wasn't much of a view, ever since it was nighttime and the mountain scenic view was obscured. Drinking from his glass that was filled with gin and ice cubes, he thought that the view he was staring at, reminded him of the outcome of what's going to happen: even though it was unforeseen, he knew that it was going to be something big.

**************

Author's Note:

Hey guys and gals!

Sorry that I haven't been updating any of my posted stories. I've been dealing with a weird case of writer's block. My muses only have been focus on one story rather than focus on the stories that I've posted on here.

In regards to this story, this story is a short story that I've been holding on to, for about three years. There are about five chapters. I am in the process of revising the other four chapters.

Also, none of the characters are underage. All of the characters are 18 years of age.