don't know much about your life [jazzy]

[tristan benjamin hartly]

it'ssupposedtogo

Tristan didn’t have too many close friends. Sure he had a good amount of regular friends, ones who didn’t invite him to their birthday parties and he didn’t know the last names of. Most of them were guys, one or two were girls. He found it hard to get along with females, most of them looked like they were working the street corner or all they wanted to do was party and get drunk. There was virtually no “nice, but sassy, sweet but tangy” girls around. Or maybe it was because his friends circle was too composed of the football team and drama nerds. Either way Tristan ended up spending a lot of time at home or at the park swinging on the swings by himself. He had an obsession with swings, whenever he passed by a park or something, he’d have to go on. It had something to do with his family owning a mini swing set in their backyard when he was younger, and how it had been ripped to shreds by one of his sister’s driving accidents. Now he couldn’t get enough of them. Plus, they made him feel carefree and lightweight, which everyone could use a bit more of.

Now that he was standing in Jasleen’s house, her kitchen, Tristan should have been feeling awkward and resistant, like he felt with the popular party girls. However that wasn’t the case. Jassy wasn’t weird, and didn’t make Tristan feel like he needed to run to the bathroom and strangle himself. Somehow it felt like he had known her for years, even though reality had only been a few minutes. He knew he made the right decision to come over, even if the whole situation seemed too similar to a horror movie. Jayce was right, no wonder he was worried. Two strangers who just met baking cookies together? Oh the horror.

Taking the egg timer off the counter, Tristan spun it around and tossed it back and forth in his hands. He wasn’t sure of what to do with himself. Yes, his mother had baked with him and his sister when they were younger, but Tristan hadn’t spent the time bonding like he told Jasleen, he had spent most of it eating raw cookie dough and playing with transformer action figures. The end result was that he didn’t learn anything, much less the ability to make decent chocolate chip cookies.

“Listen,” He set the timer down and made a sorry face. “I…don’t actually know how to bake anything.” Tristan couldn’t keep his own secrets. “I didn’t learn anything from my mom. She made cookies; I played with toys on the floor.” He had been avoiding touching any of the baking materials himself so far but the truth was going to come out eventually. What was he going to do if she asked him to crack an egg, or mix some stuff? By the time the explosions happened it would probably be too late. “I only said I could cause,” Tristan felt like hitting himself on the head now. He could feel his face turning red. “…because I thought you seemed really cool, and you know,” Tristan scratched the back of his head. He got flustered too easily when it came to these things. “I mean, Jayce was all, like that, and I just kind of,” He looked down at the floor and gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah, sorry for lying.”

Giving his best sorry smile Tristan looked up at Jassy, half expecting her to boot him out of his kitchen or stare at him like he was some freak to lie about his cooking skills to get into a girl’s house. “But you know, on the plus side, I really like chocolate chip cookies. And your cooking smells great.”

[jasleen samuelle cohen]

jasleen had always enjoyed qualifying herself as a different girl. of course, she liked clothes, she likes shoes, she liked all those things girls normally like. she also did whatever a girl normally did as well. but she did not like to think that she was just like those other girls for who all that mattered in life was just that, or acted like there was just that. it never could lead to anything good to lie to yourself about anything, really. so she figured that it would be best for her to be completely honest with herself right from the beginning. she was not normal. she was way more different than anyone else knew about. not even her best friends knew, even less her family since they basically did not exist to her anymore. but that was another story. however, to come back to our point here, jasleen was not normal. who would have really expected anyone to stab them in the back unless they were strongly paranoid? who would have thought others were just there to hurt her and nothing else? who didn’t let themselves get attached to anyone? when she told someone, most likely one of her friends, that she liked being around a guy, it probably wasn’t as they expected it to be. jasleen would never let herself be emotionally attached to someone. she would push that feeling to the back of her mind as much as she could until it hopefully disappeared, until she could fully suppress it. it was not healthy, not at all. she most of the time felt like one of the loneliest person in the world. however, she only had herself to blame for it and no one else. maybe her lack of trust came from the fact that she had never been truly loved. she had no idea what it felt like. however, from what she had observed, it seemed to hurt more than it really did any good to anyone and she was not at all convinced she was willing to go through that anytime soon.

as she mixed all of the ingredients together, she realised that she probably put most of her needs for love in her baking, as she had seen many woman do on television. she did not know how to love and this was probably the smartest, most useful way to get it out, right? she thought so. as tristan started talking, she looked up at him, her eyes running over his face and her smile fading slightly when she saw that he was unhappy about something. however, as soon as she heard the reason of why he had such an expression ruining his traits, she smiled again and shrugged lightly, letting him finish before speaking herself. if you want, i think i still have barbies in my basement. she started, bursting into laughters and almost dropping the bowl she had been mixing in. i’m only kidding. dude, it’s okay. i don’t mind. i actually just like having company. she continued as she finally finished mixing and placed the plate on which she would make the cookies bake on top of her counter and moved the bowl aside, then turning back to him. by the way, i think you’re really cool too. you seem like a nice guy. she said, shrugging lightly as she grinned at him. wanna help me place the cookies on the plate? she asked as she dipped her end into the raw cookie dough, taking some of it and placing it on the plate, making a small round ball with the dough. i know what your punishment will be. she said once again as she turned to him, chuckling slightly what could have been considered evilly and stepped closer to him, then lightly wipping her hand on his cheek, thus leaving him with a cookie dough covered cheek, and laughing as she quickly stepped away and continued placing cookies.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

credit , to me
tagged , mister tristan benjamin hartly, aka reck.
music , stuffies.
outfit , clickers, bby.
words , SIX FIVE EIGHT.
notes , lalala, this is jasleen’s worlllllld.~

[tristan benjamin hartly]

just like this

”For your information, I played with action figures not dolls.” He let out a beaming smile. Inside Tristan felt so relieved she wasn’t mad at him. He had been brought up too proper by his parents, they made him take Sunday school and the Traditional Learning Center schools for all of his lower grades. It wasn’t until he started junior high when his parents finally dropped the TLC program and stopped forcing him into church every Sunday. Still, some of the ideas stuck with him. ”Thanks, I really like your company too” He had only met her, but if anyone looked at them now they would have said the two had known each other for at least half of their lifetimes, or at least Tristan felt that way. He took a moment to reflect on what was happening. He was having a first real friend in a long time; Tristan couldn’t even remember the last time he went to someone’s house. Oh yeah, last time it had been a house party with about sixty people, half of which he wasn’t even sure went to his school. Certainly, he wasn’t going down that path again; especially how much he had to pay his parents for all the stuff that was broken.

Snapping back to reality, Tristan blinked and looked at Jassy. He had been listening of course, even if his mind was on a whole different track. ”Are you sure? I might ruin them if I touch them.” Even uncooked the dough was looking extremely tasty, and if it wasn’t for all the news reports of salmonella then Tristan might have tasted some already. He raised an eyebrow however, when Jassy turned to him. Tristan was always oblivious to other people’s intentions, so it took him by surprise when he found himself with cookie dough smeared all over his cheek. It was pretty cold stuff, but it smelled heavenly. And if he could, he’d probably would have tried licking it. But alas the cruel world wasn’t as kind as he would have liked it to be, and Tristan had to give Jassy a sort of questioning smile. ”You know, I can’t lick that far.”

And then it hit him, or actually, it was going to hit her. Dipping his finger into the side of the bowl, Tristan scooped out a big chunk of the stuff, leaned forward and smeared it all over Jasleen’s forehead, making some attempt at a angry frown. There wasn’t enough to go fully around but he succeeded in making her look like the Monopoly Man when he got sent to jail. There was a slight moment where he thought about tasting it himself, but avoided looking like an idiot who sucked his fingers. ”There, now we’re even.” He doubted she would be able to get up there either. Nobody’s tongue was THAT long, not even Gene Simmons, who creeped already Tristan out with how long his tongue was.

Although no one was home at his house, Tristan predicted his mother would be arriving back from work in just a few minutes. Usually he was home at this time, having no social life on the weekends. Actually, he thought that deep down maybe his mom had arranged some sort of family dinner at some French restaurant today, and Tristan was expected to go because it was for his father’s business deals. But here was a lot more fun. Who wouldn’t have chocolate over snails? Why would he go to somewhere where he would be subjected to awkward questions when he could stay here, with, well someone he liked. Someone, who…Tristan looked at Jassy’s smiling face. Maybe he had been anti-social for too long, but he felt like she made him feel special. Nice even. He’d be spending a lot of time around her, that was for sure.

[jasleen samuelle cohen]

action figures, dolls, they’re all the same to me. jasleen said, winking at him. her parents had never really taken the time to even care about her education. they had simply put her into some school, not even bothering to know if it really was the best for her, if it was what she needed. it was a good thing that she had always had this facility at adapting to any environment she was put in, even as a child. she could easily make friends with whoever, would naturally get along with pretty much anyone. there was just this thing about her that made her relationships with others go really smoothly. that was the only thing that she truly got from her parents. everything else, everything she had become as the young woman she was now came from her nanny she had had all these years until the woman had had to leave. her nanny was basically the one who had raised jasleen, who had taught her to be a respectable young lady, to have good values and to know who she was and never let anyone ever tell her the opposite. even though, at the time, the child that she was might not have enjoyed being told what to do by someone else than her parents, she now realised everything that the woman had done for her and could, only now, truly appreciate it all. being with tristan felt so right. right as if he had not been only slightly more than a stranger to her. she had the weirdest of feelings that both of them had known each other for years. however, she knew it was just her imagination playing tricks on her. she did not have any difficulty in making friends, ever. but somehow, having him here, with her, simply felt like the rightest thing right now.

after having committed her crime, she quickly stepped back away from him, just in case he wanted to take revenge, and liked her thumb and index finger, grinning up at him. at least she was putting some action into their night. sure, she would have loved to simply keep talking with him. however, she prefered having some fun first. as she waited for his request, she kept placing cookie dough on the plate, making sure that, as the cookies baked, they would not touch each other. she had done it so many times before and had seen it being done so many times before that she would exactly where to place them. as tristan spoke again, the young woman raised her eyebrow and chuckled softly. mhm.. i see. she said, stepping closer to him and took a look at his cheek. she had not seen it coming at all. she should have, however. it was clear that he would take revenge on her. she did not move as he committed is very own crime, trying to look up at her own forehead when he was done. i don’t think i can lick that far either. she said, chuckling as her eyes fell back on his cheek. and then, out of pure impulsion, she pushed herself on the tip of her toes and licked the cookie dough off of his cheek. her eyes widened as she stepped away, quickly turning around and grabbing a towel, wiping at his cheek. she did not even know what to say, no words would come out of her mouth as she grabbed yet another towel and started wiping at her forehead. why had she done it? couldn’t she control herself? as she looked back up at him, her eyes were shouting a thousand words towards him. the only one she hoped he would catch was sorry.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

credit , to me
tagged , mister tristan benjamin hartly, aka reck.
music , stuffies.
outfit , clickers, bby.
words , SIX TWO ONE.
notes , lalala, this is jasleen’s worlllllld.~

[tristan benjamin hartly]

take the wheel

There was nothing for him to say. The problem with Tristan was that he shrugged things off too easily. That was why a lot of people tended to have the misconception that he was everybody’s friend. Even in the most awkward of situations, he’d still be able to play it through. Not because he was a blatant playboy, oh no. He just didn’t find that many things shocking, or at least shocking enough to make him speechless. When he saw Jasleen’s face come close he more or less froze up. It wasn’t the situation that made him freeze; it was just the strangeness of it. Normally if he had thought about it he probably would have turned red, but he was so caught off guard that his face remained as pale as it had been moments before. It happened quickly though, and for that Tristan was relieved. Once the “incident” had played itself out, he just looked a bit like laughing out loud, a face he often had after weird and awkward situations.

”So…uh, did it taste good?” Yep, that was really his witty comeback. It was the politically correct thing to say right? Didn’t imply anything, and didn’t make him sound like a virgin who freaked at physical contact with everyone else (which he was, partly). Giving Jassy his best “lol” face and shrug, Tristan wiped at his cheek with his hand. It felt..cold, and kind of slimy. Now that could have been expected. It had been cookie dough on his face after all, and that stuff didn’t come off easily. Avoiding making his hands feel sticky, Tristan decided to leave the remaining bit on there, or until he got in the premise of some tissues or something.

Giving Jassy his most convincing smile, Tristan helped put the past of the dough into a plat cookie and into the pan before looking at her apologetically and blinking too fast. ”You know, if that felt awkward…it really wasn’t.” His mouth may have been letting those words out, but inside Tristan was ready to bolt. It wasn’t because he no longer felt like staying, but there was a lot going through his head and he needed some time to think about it. He may have considered himself to be a flexible and open minded person, but today’s events made him want to go and spill his thoughts onto a lonely doctor or a counselor. This was the time he wished he had someone actually close enough to talk to, and wasn’t his mom or the person he wanted to talk about.

But the truth is he was here, and he had no means of escaping to his bedroom, so Tristan decided to make the best of things. Turning away from Jassy so she couldn’t see the weird fake smile he had glued onto his face, Tristan began meddling with the oven, looking at it like it was some advanced futuristic technology. Yes, he was aware he was acting weird, but at least he tried to hide it. ”Uh, Jas, how do you turn this on? I don’t quite get the buttons.” He stuttered halfway and forced himself through the line. Eventually he ran out of buttons to stare at and decided to get out his reflection in the oven door. Shaking his hair a bit made it go back into place. It was customary for Tristan to have his hair looking the same throughout a whole day, and at the risk of sounding like a hair styling commercial, he tried to use stuff that made the shape stay. And..oh why wasn’t someone calling him home right now? If things continued like this then he really was going to turn into a speechless statue.

[jasleen samuelle cohen]

the reason why she had done it was completely unknown to the girl. something inside her had seemed to push her forward towards him and.. simply do it. to be honest, she was ashamed of her own behaviour. you see, when her parents had left her, the first few months or so had been really difficult for her. she had been seeking the attention coming from all sides and thus would make herself look like a complete whore during parties, leaving with guy, after guy, after guy.. it had been endless, really. she had eventually overcome that period of her life, however, and had promised herself that she would never fall into such habits again. oh, she did not think that tristan was the beginning of another whore phase. however, she did find it unacceptable of her to act in such a way when she had just met the boy. she found it even more unacceptable seeing the way he reacted to it, seeming to be completely flustered. it was obvious he did not know what to do, he did not know where to place himself. she knew because she felt the exact same way. her hands were quickly dipped into the cookie dough once again, making cookies until there was none left. at least, it had kept her hands busy for a moment so she could keep them to herself. maybe it had been her hormones acting up. after all, tristan was a.. cute boy and a nice one too. but that did not excuse her. his first question had thrown her off guard and she prefered to look down at her feet, answering with a simple nod of her head. she ran a hand through her hair before looking up at him once he spoke again. i’mreallysorry.. i.. jasleen murmured under her breath, looking back down at her feet immediately. she quickly moved away from him, going to grab something to clean up the mess she had made in the sink.

when she came back towards him, she saw him struggling with the many buttons on the oven and smiled somewhat awkwardly. she stepped slightly closer to him, though making sure that she kept her distances, and pressed the right buttons, preparing the oven. uh.. you know, that’ll take about ten minutes.. she started as she pushed the plate full of cookies off of the oven and went to put all the ingredients back in their respective places. once in front of her fridge to put the milk back, she stuck her head in, sighing deeply and squishing her eyes shut, quietly groaning at how stupid she could be, sometimes. there he was, being a nice guy and wanting to help her out even if he had no talent in culinary art, and she had to go and ruin everything. well, she really was not quite surprised. in fact, it was a talent she had, to constantly ruin everything with everyone. that must have been why her parents had.. no. no, she was not even going to go there while she had company. taking her head back out of the fridge, she closed the door and turned back to him, not looking directly at him. maybe you should.. go wait in the living room.. i’ll join you in a second. she said, offering him a slight smile as she walked back over to the oven and made sure that it was heating up properly. she grabbed her gloves from the cupboard over it, standing on the tip of her toes so she could reach it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

credit , to me
tagged , mister tristan benjamin hartly, aka reck.
music , stuffies.
outfit , clickers, bby.
words , FIVE NINE SEVEN.
notes , OMG SO AWKWARD.

[tristan benjamin hartly]

it'ssupposedtogo
Ten minutes. Wow that seemed awfully fast. Or more like not enough time. Feeling like Santa after he was caught on live tape by overenthusiastic parents, Tristan ran from the kitchen without saying a word. The good thing about this place was that the living room was a nice sound proof distance away from the kitchen, allowing Tristan to take out his cell phone and make calls. Unfortunately he didn’t have anyone to dial. His mom? No, he was a grown up now, he didn’t need to phone his mom. His friends? Well there wasn’t a lot to choose from, and he doubted that he wanted to explain the situation to any of them, much less than the ones who probably knew Jasleen as well. When did life become like a soap opera on CBS? At least on those miracles happened and awkward situations could always be solved by some dramatic plot twist. Too bad this was real life. No plot twists here.

Standing in the middle of the living room, Tristan evaluated his choices. He had, what, maybe eight minutes to come up with either a daring rescue plan or a daring escape plan. Checking his phone again, he was dismayed to find no family emergencies had popped up, excusing him from the cooking show that was going on. However, reading through his recent messages gave him an idea. It was unorthodox, it was mean, but it had to be done. Sighing and wishing he was someplace else, Tristan dialed the first number he could remember and made his way to the front door and left. Left. As in, opened the door, fixed his hair and left the house. His phone was dialing whoever was first on his speed dial, but Tristan didn’t care. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes. The air was chilly, a lot less satisfying than what was inside. But he needed it. It helped him refresh himself. He was like a computer that needed to be rebooted every couple of days, or else he’d overheat and lock himself in his room.

Someone answered, his phone began making noises, but Tristan ignored them. His next plan of action was debating whether he’d go back in and make an excuse about why he decided to step out. The other was to leave a text message saying he had a family emergency and flee to the safety of one of his friend’s houses. Either option was too appealing, but there was no other way to deal with this. Tristan wasn’t that good in awkward situations, fleeing had always been his number one choice. This time was going to be no different.

Deciding the other person on his phone had had enough; Tristan hung up and dialed his Skype number instead. Nobody was there to pick up, but it would seem legit if Jasleen decided to come out and catch him standing there in the cold.