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Titlepage

CopyrightpageDedication

Author'snote.Monday,October17thTuesday,October18th

Wednesday,October19thThursday,October20thFriday,October21st

Saturday,October22ndSunday,October23rdMonday,October24thTuesday,October25th

Wednesday,October26thThursday,October27thFriday,October28thSaturday,October29thSunday,October30thMonday,October31stTuesday,November1st

Wednesday,November2ndThursday,November3rdFriday,November4th

Saturday,November5thSunday,November6thMonday,November7thTuesday,November8th

Wednesday,November9thThursday,November10thFriday,November11thSaturday,November12thSunday,November13thTuesday,November15th

Wednesday,November16thThursday,November17thFriday,November18thSaturday,November19th

Sunday,November20thMonday,November21stTuesday,November22ndWednesday,November23rd

Author'sNoteOtherBooksbyJillianDodd

copyOtherBooksbyBandit

PublishingAcknowledgementsAbouttheAuthor

JillianDodd

lovemeTheKeatynChroniclesBookfour.

BanditPublishing

Copyright2013byJillian

DoddAllrightsreserved.Nopart

ofthisbookmaybereproduced,transmitted,downloaded,distributed,storedinorintroducedintoanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,whether

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Thisbookisaworkof

fiction.Anyreferencestohistoricalevents,realpeople,

orreallocalesareusedfictitiously.Othernames,characters,places,and

incidentsaretheproductoftheauthor’simagination,andanyresemblancetoactualeventsorlocalesorpersons,livingordead,isentirely

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BanditPublishingFlowerMound,TX

EditedbyRebeccaPeters-

GoldenCoverbyOkayCreations

ISBN:978-0-9892109-4-2

Thisbookisfor

Kenzie.

Thisbookseriesissimilartoatelevisionseriesinthatthereisnorecapofwhathappenedearlier.

Thisbookstartsthedaythelastonefinished.

Ifyouhaven’treadthefirstthreebooks,youprobably

won’tknowwhat’sgoingon.

Clickheretoreadbookone:

StalkMe.Clickheretoreadbooktwo:

KissMe.Clickheretoreadbookthree:

DateMe.WhenwelastsawKeatyn,shewaslyinginbedandKatietoldhertoopenhereyes.Belowarethelastfew

linesofDateMe.Our entire ceiling is coveredwith hundreds of little glow-in-the-darkstars.“They’re beautiful,” I tell

Katie. “When did you findtimetodothat?”“Ididn’tdoit.That’swhyI

askedifyoudidit.”“I didn’t do it,” I say

again.“Whodoyouthinkdid?”“I have no idea. Unless it

was Annie. Is that why shewassoadamantthatwecometo her room tonight? Is shetryingtocheerusup?”“Could be. But she was

withusthewholetime.”My mind drifts to Aiden

handingmealittlestartodayinFrench.Megettingmadathimandtossingitback.Then tonight. The cake.

Thepeaceoffering.Could Aiden have done

this?

But that doesn’t makesense.They were for the dream

girl.But in class he said

something about my sistersliking them. About how theyremindedmeofhome.Washejusttryingtogetridofthem?"I think I might know,” I

whispertoKatie.I grab my phone from my

bedside tableandcallAiden.

“Hey, Boots, what's up?”he says, in his smoothdelicious voice. “Get it?What’sup?”“Aiden,didyou...”He doesn't let me finish.

“Theanswertoyourquestionisyes.Ididputstarsalloveryourceiling.”“They’re beautiful. But I

don’tunderstandwhyyoudidit.”“IdiditbecauseIthinkit’s

timeyoufinallyknewthatthe

stars were always for you.Always. Only. Ever. Foryou.”

Monday,October17thLiehereandswoon.11:25pm

“But why?” Tell me, Aiden.Tell me that you fell headover heels in love with mewhenIkickedasoccerballatyourhead.Tellmethatwhenwe kiss it feels like I'mkissing your soul. Tell methat your heart beats forme.Tell me that I was made foryou.“I just thought you should

know that you were theperson I wanted to ask toHomecoming.”

“ButthenwhydidyoutellRiley what Whitney did?Why did you help keepDawsonandmetogether?”“BecauseIdon’tliketosee

you hurt. And, honestly, Ididn’t think he’d come backrightaway.”“Icutmyknee.”“Iknowyoudid.”“I thought they were for

someoneelse.”“Iknowthattoo.”“Whydidn’tyoutellme?”

“OnceDawson asked you,it was like boom you weredating, then boom you weresayingIloveyou.WhatwasIsupposed todoat thatpoint?But I think it’s for the bestthat it worked out this waybecauseIfeellikeI’vegottento know you better. I'm gladweregettingtobefriends.”Friends? Friends?!

FRIENDS!?I don't want to be his

freaking friend. I don't even

likehimthatmuch.Shit.Butstill.“It was sweet, Aiden.

Whateveryourreasons.”“It's not all sweet. Every

nightwhenyougotosleep,Iknowyou’llseethestarsandthink of me. Sweet dreams,Boots.”I end the call and look at

myceiling,rememberinghowsickIfeltwhenIthoughttheywere for someone else. How

perfect it would’ve been.How he had touched mypinkie. How just his touchcauses me to react in a wayI'veneverexperienced.HowIwould’vesaidyes,thenrolledtofacehim,andkissedhim.Maybe I would have even

giventhatboysometongue.I want to lie here and

swoon,but...I sit up and flip on my

lamp."Katie?”"So,Aidendidit?"

"Yeah."Itellheraboutthestars. About all thathappened. About how I waswrong. “But there'ssomethingelse.""What?""Hetoldmehe'sgladwe're

becomingfriends."She frowns. “Friends? He

wantstobeyourfriend?”“I don’t know. Do you

think I was just friend-zoned?”“Do you really think he'd

putupallthesestarsforjustafriend?”“Um, I don't know for

sure.”“Turn your light back off.

They’re pretty,” she sayssleepily.“Yeah,theyare.”I lie down and wait for

themtostartglowingagain.And I keep reminding

myself.They are just stars. Just

stars.

They don't mean he lovesyou.Theymeanhewasgoingto ask you to Homecoming.Asafriend.Mymindgoestothedream

girl.I sowish Iwas the dream

girl.But I’m not. He said

friends. He wants peace andfriendship.Hedoesn'tloveyou.Itcan'thappen.Youhavetobesmart.

But as the stars start toglow across my ceiling, Ican’t help but lie here andwishhe'dputupamoon.

Tuesday,October18thThemarkoftruelove.7:40am

Myphonevibrateswithatextfrom Grandpa. I can picturehim sitting at his desk,overlookingtherosebushesinhisbackyard.But wait. Grandpa always

emailsme.Whendidhelearntotext?Grandpa:Toansweryour

question about the differencebetween loveand true love, Ihave a simple answer. Truelove leaves a mark.

Sometimeswitha fryingpan.LOLAnd when did he learn

whatLOLis?Me: Grandpa, this is

serious! AskGrandma if youdon’t know. And HOW CANYOU NOT KNOW?? You’vebeen married to the samewomanfor39years!!!Grandpa: True love is a

crapshoot.Sometimesyougetlucky and hit the jackpot.Sometimes you’re leftwallowingdrunkandbroke.Me: You are not much

help.But as I’m walking to

class, I’m thinking aboutGrandpa’s message andwondering if true love doesleave a mark. Like the wayAiden’s kiss seared my skin

that very first time he kissedme. Is thatwhat itwas?Themark of true love. Some sortofinvisiblehickey?Speakingofhickeys.Riley’s neck is covered

withthem.“What? Did you get in a

fight with a vacuum cleanerlast night and lose?” I askhim.He flips his collar up

against his neck. “You knowwhat they say, True love

leavesamark.”“MyGrandpa just toldme

the same thing. That’s soweird you’d say that. Butsomehow I don’t think that’swhat the great philosophershadinmind.”“Philosophers said that?

That’s funny. I alwaysthought itwas somethingmydad made up.” He grinsnaughtilyatme.“Youshouldsee my chest. She wrote hernameinhickeys.”

I laugh. “I take it you andArielaarebacktogether?Didyousleepwithher?”“Naw, we’re having too

much fun doing other stuffrightnow.”His words burn in my

brain.We’rehavingtoomuchfun doing other stuff. That’swhat I missed with Dawson.I’veneversuckedonhisnecklongenoughtogivehimevenonehickey.Letalonewritten

mynameonhischest.Iwentwaytoofastwithhim.AndIthinkbecause I did,wecan’treallystartover.Ican’ttakeitback.I feel like I shouldmakea

public service announcementover the loud speaker inschool.Note to all you daters out

there:Enjoy making out for

hours.Enjoythewayhis lipsfeel

onyours.Enjoy embarrassing him

withhickeys.Enjoyholdinghishand.Enjoythewayhesaysyour

name when he tells yougoodnight.Enjoywhenheshowsupto

walkyoutoyournextclass.Enjoy how he licks hot

fudgeoffyourface.Enjoy staring at the stars

withhim.Enjoyfeelingcrazyinlove.

Like you will die if youdon’tseehim.Like you will die if you

havetostopkissinghim.Enjoy letting him romance

you.Revelintheslowpace.Let your relationship

build.Thenfallinlove.If only I could actually do

that myself. I think ofAiden’s sex survey. Since Ibroke up with Sander, all of

my relationships havehappenedreallyfast.Mymind flits tomymom

saying, You need to loveyourself.DoIlovemyself?OfcourseIdo.Iworkout.

I eat healthy. I try to getenough sleep. I always wearsunblock so I won’t get sundamage or prematurewrinkles.Ialwaystrytolookmybest.MaybeIdidn’t lovemyself when I was being a

bitch to Vanessa, but sinceI’vebeenhereatEastbrooke,I totally love who I am. I’mconfident. I’m in lots ofactivities I love. I’mmakingfriendswithawidevarietyofpeople.I’mnicetoeveryone.Why wouldn’t I love

myself?I’mawesome.Except...I felt embarrassed when I

told Aiden how fast I sleptwithCush.AndDawson.

At the time, it felt right.And I’d known Cush andBrooklynforalongtime.It’snotlikeI’djustmetthem.LikeDawson.IsleptwithDawsonfast.Why?BecauseIwashurtaboutB

and needed to feel loved?Wanted?Adored?Or was it just because he

was so freaking hot that Icouldn’thelpmyself?

Thecurrentstateofyour

neck.History

When class is almost over,the phone rings on ourteacher’sdesk.Hepicksitup,listens,then

frowns disapprovingly in my

direction. “Mr. Johnson andMiss Monroe, your presenceis requested in the dean’soffice.”“Do you think we’re in

trouble?” I ask Riley as wewalkdownthehall.“I can’t think of anything

I’vedonetogetintrouble.”“I’m almost positive that

thecurrentstateofyourneckis against the school’sdecencypolicy.”“Probably, but you didn’t

givethemtome.”We round the corner and

runintoDallas.“Did you get called to the

officetoo?”Rileyasks.Dallas whispers, “If they

saw the video, we’rescrewed.”“What do you mean?” I

whisperback.“Imean,wehadourschool

blazers on. We could getexpelled.”“Seriously?”

I can’t get expelled. I’msafehere.Plus,Ilikeit.The dean meets us at the

doorandsays,“Haveaseatinmyoffice.”We walk in and sit in the

three chairs lined up in frontofhisdesk.“It has come to my

attentionthatthethreeofyourecentlycreatedavideo.”Shit.Shit.Shit.Hepullsoutthreepiecesof

paper. Pieces of papers withour signatures at the bottomand the words “EastbrookeCodeofConduct” at the top.“Do you recall signing theseatthebeginningoftheschoolyear?”Weallnod.“In this document, you all

agreed to protectEastbrooke’s reputation. Inthevideo,Mr.McMahonandMr. Johnson are wearingpieces of their Eastbrooke

uniforms. Combine that withunderage drinking, someunbecoming sexual behaviorby Miss Monroe, and it alladds up to the three of youpossiblybeingexpelled.”Please let possibly be a

way out of this. I can’t letRileyandDallasgetexpelledbecauseofme.“Icanexplain,”Isay.“I’m

sorry. I was really upset.Dawson and I broke up andthevideowasn’t supposed to

beseenbyanyonebuthim.”“Did the video serve its

purpose?”“Well, he was upset by it,

ifthat’swhatyoumean.”“Although I was

disappointedwith thevideo’scontent, I was impressed bytheoverallqualityofit.”Rileygrins.“Mr. Johnson, did you

create this video? Do theediting and such? Can youtellmeabouttheprocess?”

“Uh, sure,” Riley says.“Basicallywedidshotsofussinging the same song awhole bunch of times indifferent situations, differentsettings. Then I pieced ittogether.”“CanIassumethatnoneof

youwanttobeexpelled?”Weallnod.“Thenhere’swhatIexpect.

First, that video will beremoved from YouTubebefore you leave my office.

Second, I have a project foryou. Eastbrooke understandsthe power of social media,and our upcomingProspectiveStudentWeekenddoes not have the number ofparticipants that we wouldlike. I’d like you to create avideo showcasing the school.Give students a reason tocome see what we’re allabout.Obviously, it needs tobe classy and uphold theEastbrooke tradition, but

maybeyoucanmakeitalittleless stuffy than theinformational video we haveon the school’swebsite. Canyou shoot the video, edit it,and have it ready for myapprovalbythisafternoon?”Riley nods his head yes,

but I’m thinking aboutsomethingelse.I just realized that

uploading the video of mewas really dumb. What ifVincent had come across it

somehow? Actually, that’ssilly. The internet is amassive place and since Iwasn’t tagged in it with myname, he’d have better oddsfinding a needle in ahaystack. But, still, the ideaof me being in a video thatcould lead him straight herescaresme.“Um,doIhavetobeinthe

video? Can we recruit someotherstudents?”“Yes,Keatyn,youdohave

to be in the video. It’s betterthanthealternative,correct?”“Yes, sir,” I gulp. I could

mention that Vincent findingme would be much, muchworse, but I don’t. I can’t.Riley and Dallas are myfriends.Ineedtostartbeingagoodfriendback.Andagoodfriend wouldn’t let them getexpelled.“I don’t want you just

getting your friends out ofclass,” he says, as he writes

on a piece of paper. “But ifyou need additional students,usethispass.”

Everyboy’sfantasy.9:30am

Riley removes the sluttyvideo before we leave thedean’s office.As soon aswe

getoutofthebuilding,Dallassays,“Gettingexpelledwouldnothavebeengood.”“No, it wouldn’t have

been,”Iagree.Riley grins. “Let’s go get

mycamera.”“Any idea what we’re

goingtofilm?”“No. But you’re in drama.

Writeascript.”“I don’t know what to

say.”“The purpose of the video

is to get students to want tocome here. So let’s showthemhowmuchfunwehave.I think I’m going to includeclips of how Dawson askedyou to Homecoming. Thedean with a letter on hisnaked chest is a cool thing.And I have a bunch offootage that I shot duringHomecoming. Then we justcan include a little blurb atthe end about the upcomingGreek/PSWweekend.”

“Maybe we need to getsomeoftheOlympiangodstobeshirtless.”Riley grins at me. “You,

startwritingthescript.”ThenheturnstoDallas.“And,you,gogetMaggie,Ariela,Aiden,Jake,andLoganoutofclass.”“Whythem?”“If I’m going to appeal to

8th grade boys, I need hotgirls. Plus, it’s every boy’sfantasy.Ablonde,abrunette,and a redhead. All together,

waiting for him atEastbrooke.”Weget tohisroom.While

hemesseswith his camera, Igrab his laptop, sit at hisdesk, and pull upEastbrooke’s website andperspectivestudentvideo.Eastbrooke: Honor.

Tradition.Excellency.Itgoesonabouthowgreat

Eastbrookeisinaveryboringfashion. There are still shotsof kids in classes. At

activities. One of a cheeringcrowd at a sporting event.Really, it’s pretty bland andimpersonal. I can see whykidsaren’tsigningupfor thePSW.Hmmm.IspinonRiley’schair.“So

whatifwestartwiththisshot.The beginning of the othervideo with the “honor,tradition, and excellency”thing, thenmake it look likewe tagged it with graffiti.

Like we’ve spray painted abig cougar paw over the topofit.”“I like it. What do you

thinkforascript?”“I don’t know that just

showing clips ofHomecoming and stuff is agood idea. That’s what’s onthe other video. Photos ofpeople you don’t know. It’sreallyimpersonal.”“So,let’smakeitpersonal.

Talkaboutus.”

“Ourstory?”“Yeah. Let’s take them

throughaday.Gettingcoffeeand breakfast with ourfriends. Goofing around inthe halls between classes.Dinner. Hanging out in ourdorms.” He smirks. “Maybeyou girls could wear yourMission: Impossible lingerieandhaveapillowfight.”“Very funny. But I think

the idea of showing us girlshanging out inmydorm is a

greatidea.Imean,really,thedorm can be like one bigslumberparty.”“Exactly.AndI’llgetsome

shots of the guys, chilling inAiden’s room, playing videogames. Texting girls. Stufflikethat.”“That sounds good. And

maybedancepractice, soccerpractice, rehearsal. There’s aFrenchclubmeetingat lunchand lit club after dance. Wecan recreate whatever we

wantto.”“The dean is really cool,”

Rileyreplies.“We’relucky.”“Yeah,weare.”“Okay, sobefore everyone

gets here, I want to recordyou. Let’s go outside wherethe lighting is good. Do youknowwhatyouwanttosay?”“Ithinkso,yes.”

We get situated outside of

Hawthorne House. “Riley,youknow,oneofmyfavorite

things about this school ishowprettyitis.Solet’smakesurewegetshotsofthetrees,andweshouldgetsomeshotsof a pick-up soccer game inthecommonarea.”“Shirtsandskins?”“Absolutely! So what do

youwantmetodo?ShouldIstandorsitonthesteps?”“Stand. I love those little

thigh-high sock things youwear. Those ribbon ones aremyfavorite.”

Riley holds up the cameraandsays,“Rollthat.”Which causesme to crack

upinsteadoftalking.“Maybe we can do some

bloopersattheend.”Henodsatme.“Go.”I smile for the camera and

starttalking.“Hi,I’mKeatyn.I was sitting where you are,just a few months ago,watching videos, trying todecidewheretogotoschool.You can learn all about

academic excellence andtradition on the other video,but, in this video, we wantyou to experienceEastbrooke.”Hestopsrecording.“That’s

good,Ilikeit.”“I want to introduce you

andDallas.Tellthemhowwemet.Thenwe’ll followallofusonourday.”Dallas shows up with

Maggie, Logan, Jake,Ariela,and Aiden. After Riley and

Arielasuckeachother’sfacesoff, we fill everyone in onwhat we want to do. RileyhandsJakethecamera.I speak to the camera.

“ThisisRileyandDallas.Sayhi,boys.”Dallas says, “Hey, y’all,”

inhisadorableaccent.Riley,hotly,sticksouthistongueatthecameraandyells,“What’sup?”We spend the day filming

all over school. Some sceneswith just a fewof us.Otherswith classrooms full ofstudents.Afterthat,Arielagoesback

toclass,andtheothersareoffrecruiting guys for the pick-upsoccergame.I’m sitting in the grass

waitingforthemtoshowup.I glance at the goal and

thinkaboutAiden,who,eventhough he’s been helping onandofftoday,hasbeenacting

weird.Like, sort of standoffish,

maybe.Sometimes he gives me

thoselooks.Likehewantstotalk tome or say something,butthenhedoesn’t.And I really don’t know

whathisdealis.Maybe now he’s

embarrassedaboutthestars?Aiden is first to return.He

has a soccer ball and isbouncingitoffhiskneesover

andoveragain.“Wanna see if you can

scoreonme?”heasks,finallysaying a full sentence to meforthefirsttimetoday.“I probably wouldn’t do

very well in these heels,” Ireply, bending my knee toshowhimacuteshoe.“ButIwouldliketoplayyouagain.Especially since you toldmeonly, like, ten people haveeverscoredonyou.”“Thatwasjustingames.”

“Fine,then.We’llconsideritagame.”“Howwillitwork?”“Hmm. I'll kick a penalty

shot. No, I’ll kick twenty ofthem. If Igetelevenof thempast you and into the net, Iwin.”“Andwhatwillyouwin?”“Bragging rights are all I

need.”“No, it needs to be bigger

than that.Letme thinkaboutit,B-Moi.”

“I’mnotsleepingwithyouif you win,” I sayimmediately, knowing that’swhathisshortenedBaisemoiissuggesting.“I wouldn't want you to,”

hesays.My facedrops.Hedoesn’t

wanttosleepwithme?Ilookdown at the grass and startstudyingtheblades.Oh, I have so been friend-

zoned.He justwanted to getridof the stupid stars.That’s

allitwas.I’m not the one. Not the

dreamgirl.IseeAiden’sshoescoming

toward me. He kneels downnext to me, but I refuse tolook at him. If I do, I’llprobablystartcrying.Oh,Ihatehim.“Boots?”hesays.Ipretend

to be really interested in thesingle blade of grass I justpicked. He puts his handunder my chin and pushes it

up so I have to look into hissparkling emerald eyes.“Whenwesleep together, it'snot going to be because of abet.”Iswallow.Andturnawayquickly.Whenwesleeptogether?Is that what he wants? Is

that why he wants to be myfriend? Does he want to befriendswithbenefits?Sorry, Aiden. Been there.

Done that. Hacked the shirt

with scissors, ripped it toshreds,thenburnedtheeffingthingtooblivion.Fortunately,Riley runsby,

flicksmyhair, and steals thesoccer ball out of Aiden’shands, causing Aiden to tearoffafterhim.While they chase each

other around, my mindwanders to what sleepingwithAidenwouldbelike.I’mprettysureitwouldbe

likedroppingthehairdryerin

the tub while I'm taking abath.I’d probably be majorly

electrocutedanddie.ButIbetitwouldbeworth

therisk.All the guys show up, so

Riley goes into directormode. Saying who he wantson which team. Who shouldtakeofftheirshirts.Andwhattodo.I’msittinginthegrassnext

to Maggie, thinking abouthowfittingitisthatthisfieldbe included in the video. Itwas one of the first things IsawwhenIgothere.WhenItookadeepbreathandfinallyfelt safe. And, later, howcrazy I was to run down thehill, steal the ball fromDawson, and kick it pastAiden’s head. Dawsonbringing me here to ask meout.Aiden andme sitting onthebenchoutside the library,

overlooking the field, andwatchingthesunset.Maggie elbows my side.

“So, tell me about the stars.Whathappened?AreyouandAiden gonna get togethernow?What are you going todo about Dawson? Did yousee Jake was teasing me? Ithink I might like him.ShouldIlikehim?”I smile at her. Maggie is

such a beautiful girl, and Iadoreherfunpersonality.She

and Jake would be cutetogether, but it also seemslike there’s something goingon with her and Logan.Something about the waytheylookateachother.I grab her hand. “Before I

answerall that,Ijustwanttosay that I’m so glad we’refriends. Sitting here remindsmeofwhenschoolstarted.”“I rememberhearingabout

thecrazy-assgirlwhokickeda soccer ball past Aiden. I

never imaginedwe’dbecomegood friends.But I loveyou.You’re as crazy asme.” Shegrabsmeandpullsme intoahug.Riley, who has apparently

caught our moment on tape,yells from across the field,“Makeout!”Maggie and I respond in

theexactsamemannerat theexact same time, bothflipping him off and thenlying back in the grass and

giggling.After getting an

appropriate number of shirtsvs. skins shots, I take Rileyinto the dance locker roomandthengetthegirlstogethertohangoutinmydormroom.We change into pajamas anddoallthestuffweusuallydo.Gossip, paint our nails, talkon social media, dohomework,andeat.Thenwedothesamething

with the boys. Show afootballpractice.Rileyliftingweights.Dallasrunning.ThenalltheguyspiledintoAiden’sroom, eating and playingvideo games. Aiden and mestudying in the library. Himslaughtering the Frenchlanguage and me trying toprotectit.After that, we go back to

the dean to tell him we’redone filming, but that Rileywillneedtonighttoeditit.

Heasksustohaveittohimby tomorrow morning ateight. Apparently, the schoolis going to email it to theirprospective student list inhopes of buoying thisweekend’sattendance.

Wrappedupinarelationship.

6:50pm

Igettorehearsalalittleearly.The director immediatelypullsmeaside.“So, Miss Monroe, what

did you decide? Are yougoingtogivemeacommittedperformanceorareyougoingtoquit?”Ismile.“I’mgoingtogive

youanamazingperformance.I’m really sorry about lastweek.Ikindofgotcaughtupinaguy.”

“Whoyou’ve sincebrokenupwith,orsoI’veheard.”“Yeah, but I was going to

keep doing it even if thathadn’t happened. Acting issomethingIreallywanttodo.Like, maybe even with mylife.So, it’s important tome.Ijust,Isortofforgottothinkabout me. Have you everdonethat?”“Gotten wrapped up in a

relationship? Sure. Everyonedoes sometimes. Learning

that it’s okay to be yourself,have your own interests, andstill be part of a committedrelationship is part ofgrowingup.AndsomethingIlearnedthehardway.”“Really,how?”“Incollege,Iwasinaone-

act play. But the girl I wasdatinghadasororityfunctionthesamenightandwasupsetthat I couldn’t go. She wasgoingtotakeanotherdate,soIquit theplayeventhoughit

wasimportanttome.”“Was the sorority thing

thatbigofadeal?”“Not really. And I held it

against her, which thenunderminedourrelationship.”“The one that got away,

huh?”“Actually, no. I chose to

get away because shewasn’tsupportive ofme. If itwas agood relationship, shewould’ve come to my play,then we would have gone to

the last half of her formal.Youhave towant tomake itwork.”I think about Tommy and

Momandhowtheywon’tdomovies at the same time indifferent locations.How theywon’tbe apart formore thanaweek.Howsupportive theyareofeachother.WhatAidensaid to me at tryouts flitsthrough my brain. How, ifDawson lovedme, he shouldbe there supporting me.

Watching me try out. Notmaking me feel guilty fordoingwhatIlove.“Thatmakessense.”Hesmilesatme.“AndIdo

have some good news foryou. Wednesday andThursday, you get the nightoff. We’re going to befocusing those rehearsals onmemorizing lines. Since youhave yours down, you get alittlereward.”“Really?!Thankyou!”

“No,thankyou.It’snicetowork with a professional.You,Logan,andJakearetheonlyonesinthecastwhoareprepared.”I takemyusual seat in the

back of the auditorium andpulloutmyhomework.Mightas well get started on it. Ihaveacomparativeessayduetomorrow for English, mathproblems, a scienceworksheet, and history

chapterquestions.I’m tackling the essay

when my phone buzzes. Iexpect it to be Aiden sinceit’s unusual for him to belate.Dawson:Imissedwalking

youtoclasstoday.Me: Wewereworking on

aprojectforthedean.Dawson: I heard. Was it

fun?Me: Yeah, sort of. The

dean saw the videowemadeontheplane.Thiswassortofourpunishment.Dawson:Thatvideoreally

upsetme.His comment makes me

feelbadandpissesmeoff atthe same time. It’s like he’strying to make me feel bad

formakinghimfeelbadwhenhemademefeelbad.Does that even make

sense?Me:I’msorryitupsetyou.

Obviously, Iwasprettyupsetmyself. Look, I’ve got to go.I’matrehearsalandIhaveatonofhomework.Dawson: I’m going to

makeituptoyou.

Me:Howareyouplanningtodothat?Dawson: I’m not sure. Is

there anything I can do tomakeyougetoverit?Me:Talkingaboutitmight

help. Like if I really knewwhat you were thinking.Maybe. Part of me doesn’twant to know. Part of mewouldprefertojuststaymad.Beingmadiseasier.

Dawson:Pleasedon’tstay

mad at me, Keatie. Please.Can we talk tonight? Likeafterrehearsal?Me:IfIgetoutintime.

Dawson:Ifnot,we’llgoto

the Cave later or something.Okay?Me:Okay.

Aiden strolls in aroundeight-thirty. I’vedone twoofmy scenes in the first act oftheplayandmanagedtogetarough draft of my essaydone.“I just stopped by to tell

you that I can’t do tutoringtonight.”“Yeah, I kinda already

figured that,” I say, trying tohidemydisappointment. I’vecome to enjoy hanging outwithAidenduringpractice.

“I’mgladIskippedoutonthe taping for a while andwenttoFrench.Wehadapopquiztoday.”“Howdidyoudo?”“Good, I think. Your

tutoring seems to beworking.”“Well,that’sgood.”“I’ll see you tomorrow,

okay?”“Uh, sure. What are you

doingtonight?”He grins at me. Probably

reading my mind andknowing that I’m dying toknowwhatelsehehas todo.How much do you want tobet it involves a curvycheerleaderwhoheis friendswith?“I’m helping Riley and

Dallaswiththevideo.Riley’sworried that he won’t get itdone.Whathe’sdone so far,though,isreallygood.”“That’sniceofyou,Aiden.

But I’m kind of surprised. I

didn’t think you and Rileywerefriends.”“We were friends during

football camp, then we gotintoitinthelockerroomthatoneday.”“Asinthedayheslammed

you against a locker fortalking shit about me andDawson?”Aiden hangs his head a

little.“Yeah.”“Riley’s a good guy,” I

say.

“Yeah, I know. He’s notlikeDawson.”“Dawsonisagoodguy.”Aidenrollshiseyesatme,

shakes his head, and says,“Seeyalater,Boots.”Thewayhe says it sounds

kind of dreamy. His voice.Hismouth. Everything abouthimisjustplaindreamy.But then I remember

another time he said thosewordstome.Afterour29dances.

Which means I probablywon’thearfromhimfordays.

Don’tstopkissingme.9:45pm

Wegetoutofrehearsalalittleearly,soIgoseeDawson.When I get there, he

immediately pulls me onto

hisbedandkissesme.We kiss, and kiss, and

kiss.He runs his hands up the

sides ofmy shirt andpulls itoff.Thenhekissesmyneck,my chest, and my stomach.Then he stops, puts an armabovemyshoulderand leansclosetomyface.“We haven’t been talking.

I’m sorry. I’m having a hardtimestartingover.Weshouldstop kissing and talk, right?

What do you want to talkabout?”“I just have one thing to

say.”“What’sthat?”“Don’t stop kissingme.” I

grab his shirt and pull himbacktowardmylips.Which is all he needs. He

kisses me passionately anddoes some other stuff that Ivery much enjoy. I start tofeelthatfamiliaryearning.Whyis it thatIdon’twant

tohavesexwithhim?Is it because I want to

punishhim?But isn’t that sort of

punishingmetoo?I want to. And, oh, my

gosh.Heis—well,he’sdoingthings to me that I alsoshouldn’t be letting him do,butIdon’tstophim.Ican’tstophim.Iwant to feelclose tohim

again. I want to know ifthingshavechanged.Hesaid

thingsweredifferentwhenhekissedWhitney.Things are not different

whenwekiss.I still feel the samedesire.

The same emotions. I’mready to take things further,all the way further, and he’sdefinitelyready.This is thepointwherewe

bothknowwewantto.Sincethatfirsttime,we’ve

never questioned it. It feelsgood, so we do it. And I’m

readyforthat.Expectingthat.I’mguidinghimtowardme.Buthestops.Again.“Keatie, I want this more

than you know. But I don’twantyou to regret it. Ineverwant you to regret what wedo. I know maybe it soundsempty because of whathappened, but I love you. Ireallydo.”He strokes my hair, runs

thebackofhishanddownthe

sideofmyface,andsweepsitacross my chin. I lean myhead into his hand as hecradles my face in his palmandlooksintomyeyes.Idon’tbreakeyecontact.I

tilt my pelvis up a littlehigher, grab his hips, andguidehimintome.He’sabitshockedbythis,

Ithink.His eyes get big, but then

he smiles and starts slowlypushing in and out. Then he

leansdownandkissesme.Our kissing matches the

rhythm of the sex. Slow andgentle to start, then deeperandharderandfaster,untilhecan’t keep kissing mebecause it’s gotten sointense.Finally,hecollapsesontop

of me, breathing heavily. Ihug him tightly as hesprinkles little kisses downthe side of my cheek andacrossmyshoulder.

“Thatwasamazing.”I laugh at him. “You

alwayssaythat.”“Sorry, I need some new

adjectives. I’ll get back toyou on that. I’m having ahard time thinking rightnow.” He grabs a strand ofmyhair and absent-mindedlytwirlsitaroundhisfinger.“What are you thinking

about?”“How lucky I am. Does

this mean we’re back

together?”“No, but we’re maybe

startingover.”“Yeah,but...”“If you recall, when we

started this happened prettyquickly.”Hesmilesbig.“Idorecall.

AndIswearitwon’tendlikebefore. So are we going outagain?”“We’re not. Just like we

weren’tthen.”“We’retakingitslow?”

I grin and shake my headbecause we both know thatthisisnottakingitslow.“Something like that. I

mightdateotherpeople.Andyoushouldtoo.”Heglancesat theclock.“I

doubt I will, but we’ll see.Probablybettergetyouhome.Idon’twantyoutobelate.”I glance at the clock and

see that he’s right. Wequicklygetdressed,walkarminarmbacktomydorm,and

sharealonggoodnightkiss.I’mlyinginbed,readinga

steamy romance novel,whenKatie says, “What happenedwith you and Dawsontonight?”“Wejust,youknow,we’re

maybestartingover.”“He just changed his

relationship status,” she says,asmyphonebuzzes.I pick it up and readwhat

I’msupposedtoapprove:It’s

complicatedwithKikiKiki.And I don’t know who

came up with thatrelationship statuswhen theyinvented Facebook, but I’mthinking I couldn’t havedescribeditbettermyself.Becauseitiscomplicated.And I’m pretty sure that

my sleeping with him justmade it even morecomplicated.I decide to call Riley.

“How’sthevideogoing?”“Almost done. We’ve got

three computers with all thevideo, and Dallas and Aidenhavebeenhelpingmefindthefootage I need. It’s turningoutgreat.Areyougoingtobeup for a little while? I’mputting some finishingtouches on it and will sendyouthelinkinafew.”“I’llwaitup.Ican’twaitto

see it. Um, Riley, uh, howcomeAidenishelpingyou?”

“Heoffered.”“Oh.Areyoufriends?”“Yeah,prettymuch.”A few minutes later, my

computer dings with anemail. I follow the link andwatchthevideo.IcallRileyback.“I, um, it’s really good,

Riley,”Iblubber.“Areyoucrying?”“I’mjust,it’sjust...really

good.”“Yeah, you said that

already. It’s supposed tomakeyouwanttocomehere,notcry.”“It will make people want

tocomehere.Itjust...”“It’saboutus.”“Exactly. I love you and

Dallas.”“Whatpartmadeyoucry?”“Justallofit,”Ilie.“Whatpartmadeyoucry?”

heasksagainsternly.“Aiden’spart.Howpeople

hereinspirehimtobeabetter

person.Aboutthesunsets.”“And why did that make

youcry?”“Ican’ttellyou.”“Whynot?”“Because I sleptwithyour

brothertonight.”“Is that what It’s

complicatedmeans?”“Yes.”“Baby,it’sokaywithmeif

you like Aiden. I knowyou’velikedhimsinceschoolstarted.”

“Thanks,Riley,butIdon’tlike Aiden. I mean, I did, atfirst. But he doesn’t like meback. He wants to be myfriend.”“Oh, really?Your friend?”

Rileychuckles.“Don't laugh at me. I’ve

been friend-zoned. It’sembarrassing.”“Keatyn, I swear, you are

clueless.”“Iamnotclueless.Hetold

mehimselfhewantstobemy

friend.”“I want to be Ariela’s

friend.”“You also want to sleep

withher.Aidendoesn’twantto sleep with me. Actually,that’s not true. He said wemight sleep togethersomeday.But I had a friendswith benefits relationshipbefore. I don’t want that. Iwantmore.”“And you’re getting more

fromDawson?”

“Yes. No. Kinda. He sayshelovesme.”“I’mlearningthatsayingit

and proving it are two verydifferentthings.Night,baby.”

Wednesday,October19thAlittlemoredisturbing.7:25am

I’m putting my mascara on,getting ready for class,whenmyphonebuzzeswithatext.Iglancedownatit.

Garrett: Meet me at that

little diner in town in 20minutes. We need to talkaboutMiami.Me: You’re here? In

town?What’swrong?Garrett: I need to talk to

you.Me: You have bad news?

What’s wrong??!!! Is myfamilyokay??Garrett: They’re fine.We

justhavealottotalkabout.Me:Okay.

Isignmyselfoutofschool,

pretending to have a dentistappointment,anddrivetothe

diner.Garrett meets me outside

my car. The first thing hedoesispullmeintoahug.“I swear, you’re going to

give me gray hair. I’m gladyou’reokay.”I pull away, pleasantly

surprisedbyhishug.“Are we going to talk

about Tiny? Did you findsome clues to connect himwithVincent? Is he going tojailforaverylongtime?Can

Igobackhome?”He sighs and shakes his

head. “Afraid not. The guy’slike teflon. I can’t getanythingtostick.”“Whatifwesethimup?”Henarrowshiseyesatme.

“Sethimup?”“Yeah, planted some

evidence. Made it look likehe killed Tiny. Tip off thecops.”“I believe in justice,

Keatyn. But I won’t discard

mymorals.”“So, I guess that means

hiring a hitman to take himoutisn’tanoption?”Garrett laughs and shakes

hisheadatme.“Veryfunny,”hesays,butthenhisfacegetsserious. “There are a fewthings going on that I wantyoutoknowabout.”“I’m about to get the bad

newsnow,right?”He hands me a tabloid

magazine. Sprawled across

the front page is a largeheadline. Tommy’s AffairWith Abby’s Best Friend.Below is a photo of Tommyhugging Millie. The photolooks damaging. Millie isgetting into a car and it doeslooklikehe’ssayinggoodbyetohislover.He’shugginghertighterthanusual.“Thiscan’tbetrue.”“It’s not. Tommy, Millie,

and a producer had dinnertogether in LA a few nights

ago. They’re trying toconvince Tommy to gueststar in a few episodes ofMillie’s prime time soapopera. She was tired, so sheaskedTommytowalkheroutto the car. The reason he’shugging her so tightly is shejust told him the reason forherbeingtired.”My eyes get big. “She’s

pregnant, isn’t she? Oh, mygosh! I’m so excited for herandDeron!”

“She is pregnant. But thepress is going crazy. Pullingout any old photos of themtogether without Abby. Orcropping Abby out of thepicture. Their publicistsexpect this to get worsebefore it gets better. I justwanted to make sure youdon’tworryaboutit.”“Thanks, Garrett, I

appreciateit.”“Now, for something a

little more disturbing.” He

handsmeanotherpaper.Thisone has the words PressReleaseacrossthetopofit.Vincent Sharpe of A

Breath Behind You Films ispleased to announce castinghas commenced for thegreen-litfilm,AnotherDayatthe Lake, a remake of theAbby Johnston cult classic.Mr. Sharpe says, “Whilesome roles have been cast,we’re looking for an

unknown to play the roleAbby Johnston originated.We’ll be doing nationwideopen casting calls in manymajor cities. If you knowsomeone who looks like themain character in the earlyversion of the film, pleasemessage us. And be sure tocheckourwebsitefordetails,butgetreadyMiamiandNewYork, we’re coming to youfirst.”

The paper slips out of myhand and my knees start togiveout.“Thisisbrilliant.”“And scary,” Garrett says

quietly, grabbing my elbowso I don’t buckle to theground. “Basically, he’sdoing tryouts all over thecountry,butwhathewantsissomeone to turn in yourpictureand tellhimwhere tofind you. On the website, itmentions they will do somesurprise casting calls. As in,

you can nominate someonewithouttheirknowingandhewill show up, surprise them,andletthemaudition.”“Thegoodnewsis,Idon’t

reallylookthatmuchlikemymom.”Garrettshakeshisheadand

holds out a picture of mymom from the movie. She’sin a swimsuit. Her hair is insoft waves. She has asweetness to her face that Inever used to have. But

comingherehaschangedme.Softenedme,somehow.“You do, Keatyn. Has

anyone at school mentionedthat?”“My friends went to see

oneofMom’smovies.Whenthey came back, they said Iremind them of her. Mostlythat my voice and gesturesareidentical.”Istarttopanic.“WhatwouldIdoifsomeonefrom school sent in mypicture without me knowing

andheshowedup?”“It’smy job toprepare for

that possibility. Let’s goinside and order somebreakfast. I have someone Iwantyoutomeet.”I follow Garrett into the

diner,mymind still spinningatthelengthsVincent’sgoingtoinordertofindme.Garrett stops at a table,

movesoutofmylineofsight,and says, “Meet your newbabysitter,CooperSteele.”

CooperSteelestandsup toshakemyhand.Holyhell.Please tell me that

babysitting involves himspendingeverysinglenightinmyroom.Inmybed.This guy is the definition

of rugged hotness. Muscleson top of muscles, shortbuzzedhair, tattoos.He’snotquite six feet, but a womancouldlearntoloveflatsifher

rewardwasthatbody.He'swearingtailoredblack

cargopantsanda tightwhitethermal shirt that allows meto see the outline of a buffchestandmuscularshoulders.Women in the diner are

staring.I look around. No, they're

drooling. Imagining what'sbulgingwherewecan'tsee.I lean around Garrett,

shake his hand, and smile.

“Hey,I’mKeatyn.”He gestures to the seats

acrossfromhiminthebooth,soGarrettandIslidein.A waitress comes over,

filling our cups with steamycoffee and flirting with bothCooperandGarrett.Butthecoffeeislukewarm

compared to the man staringatmewithintensity.She takes our orders and

thenGarrett says, “Cooper isyour new interim soccer

coach and will be teachingHealthclass.”Clearly, I’m going to be

needing private lessons ondrillingtheballintothenet.“Wealreadyhaveasoccer

coach.”“She just got an amazing

offer.Seemsit’salwaysbeenher dream to teach soccer tounderprivileged children. Acharitable foundation,conveniently, justofferedherthat dream. Six months of

handing out soccer balls inthird world countries. Thecatch was that she has toleave tomorrow. When shehesitated about leaving hergirls with no coach, Cooperwas recommended. Hissoccer experience, combinedwith theurgencyof theofferand outstanding references,allowedforaquickhire.”“Youdon’treallylooklike

a soccer player,” I say toCooperSteele.

Cooper gives me a barelyperceptiblesquintofhiseyes,butdoesn’trespond.Garrett continues. “He

played on the United StatesUnder-20 Men’s NationalTeam,whichqualifiedfortheWorld Cup. Graduated withhonors from BrownUniversity, and is anaccomplishedMMAfighter.”I lookatCooper.Hegives

meateenysmirk.Onethatissupposed to irritate me, but

I’m not sure how it could.The smirk brings out thebeginnings of a sexy set ofdimples.“So,Idon’tgetit.”“You told me she was

smart,”Cooperscoffs.Garrett turns tome. “With

the letter I just showed you,the possibility of Vincentshowing up randomly atEastbrooke has increasedexponentially. I wantsomeone on site to help

protectyou.”The waitress interrupts us

bydeliveringour food.Aftershe leaves, I say, “So you’rebasicallymybodyguard?Justhowoldareyou,anyway?”“He’s twenty-three,”

Garrett says. “He’s also theson of a decorated militaryman and is an expertmarksman.”“So he’ll have a gun with

himatalltimes?”“Obviously,hecan’t.”

“Garrett, if you hired himtoprotectme,thatmeansI’mpayinghimtoprotectme.I’dlove to know what I’mgetting for my money. Asoccer player who knowshow to throw a punch andkick the shit out of guy in aring, and would be a goodshot ifhe had a gun, doesn’treally make me feel all thatsafe.”“Fine. I pulled him out of

theFarm.”

“TheFarm?”“Yes, he was currently at

thetopofhisclass,trainingtobeaCIAagent.”Damn.“That makes me feel

better.”“Obviously, what I just

shared with you isconfidential.”InodatGarrettandlookat

Cooper. “Is this somethingyouwant todo?Doyou feelthisisbeneathyou?”

He shakes his head. “I’mhonored that I was recruitedforsomethingofthisnature.Ihadn’t really considered thecommercialsideofthings.”I laugh. “In other words,

I’mpayinghimverywell?”“Basically,” Garrett says.

“And I’m always on thelookoutforpeoplethatfitintomyorganization.Thefactthathe isyoungand justasoccercoach means no one willthinktwiceabouthim.”

“Howinvolvedishegoingbe? How much are wesupposedtointeract?”“I know you don’t want a

traditional bodyguard and Idon’t think one is necessaryatthispoint.Rememberwhenthe school office got brokenintoandyouthoughtVincentwasthere?”“Yes.”“He’s the cavalry,Keatyn.

I want someone on site ifsomethinggoesdown.”

I scrutinize Cooper somemore.“Smileforme.”He looks at me kinda

funny,butthenthecornersofhis mouth pull up into asmile, popping out thoseadorabledimples.Ishakemyhead.“Vincentisgoingtobetheleastofyourworries.Youshouldbemoreworriedaboutfending off underageschoolgirls that are used togettinganythingtheywant.”Garrett looks at hiswatch.

“Okay, you need to get backto school. When Cooper isannounced as your newcoach, use your acting skillsand pretend to be surprised.And be on guard. Always.Andpayattention.Ifyouhearanyone talking aboutVincent’s announcement, gostraight to Cooper. He’ll getyououtoftheresafely.”“Gotit.”

Alwayshotwithyou.Lunch

IgetbacktoschoolintimetohavelunchwithMaggie,whotalks endlessly about hercrushonJake,allthepossiblereasons for why he hasn’ttextedheryet,andabunchofgossip that I’m not really

payingattention to.Mymindkeeps running throughhorrible scenarios involvingVincentshowinguphere.And something keeps

gnawing at the corner ofmymind. Something about theletterisbuggingme,butIjustcan’tquitepinpointwhat.“What happened to the

popular table?”Maggie asks,pulling me back into herconversation.“Whatdoyoumean?”

“Lookatit.It’schanged.”I look at the table. It has

changed.WhitneyandPeytonare there, of course, but theyare down to one minion.Tyrese is gone. Dawson,Jake,andBrycearethere,butnooneelseis.“Well, after Homecoming,

WhitneybanishedRachelandmost of the minions to adifferent table. I’m sure theywill all make up. Where’sKatieat?”

“Retaking a test. I have tosay,I’mhatingthatyou’reinthe play. I miss all of ushanging out and studying inyourroom.”“Me too. How is Annie

doing? She hasn’t reallytalked to me lately. Is shemadatme?”“No, she’s freaking out

about Ace going to herparents’anniversaryparty.”“Why?”“He looks like a dumb

jock,soshethinkstheywon’tapprove. Her sisters allmarriedskinny,nerdytypes.”“Well, hopefully they give

him a chance. I would thinkas soon as he starts talking,they’llknowhe’ssmart.”“I hope so. Regardless,

she’sfreakingout.”“Idon’tthinkit’sjustthat.

IthinkshehelpedAidenwiththestars.She’sbeenavoidingmeeversince.”“She’safraidyou’remadat

her.”“I’mnotmadather.She’s

oneofmybestfriends.”“Ithinkshe’snotthatused

to having friends who standbyher.”“Well, she better get used

to it, right?We’re not goinganywhere.”Maggie smiles at me and

nods. “Right. Oh, shit, herecomes Dawson.” Then shesays,outof thecornerofhermouth, “Or are we supposed

tobehappyaboutthat?”“I’mnotsure.”Shelaughs.“Letmeguess.

It’scomplicated?”We both start giggling.

“Do you ever feel like youhave no idea what you’redoingwithyourlife?”“All the time,” she says.

“Allthetime.Hey,Igottagettoclass.Seeyalater.”As Dawson walks me to

French, he says, “I missed

sitting by you today. I’m sogladwegotbacktogetherlastnight.”“We didn’t get back

together,Dawson.”“I meant back together.

You make me feel so good,Keatie.”“We shouldn’t have. I

mean,Ishouldn’thave.”“But you said you wanted

to.”“Ineededtoknowifthings

wouldfeeldifferent.Didthey

feeldifferenttoyou?”“No, it was amazing. The

wayyoupulledmyhips intoyou. So hot. It’s always sohotwithyou.”“Ijust,Ithink,Imean,I’m

not sure we should again.LikeuntilwedecidewhatIt’scomplicatedmeans.”“It’s really not all that

complicated,Keatie.Imadeastupid mistake. You forgaveme.”“Iknowyou’resorryabout

it. But I’m not over it,Dawson.Notatall,” I sayasAnnieandAidenwalkbymeintoclass.“Bye.”Isitinmyseatandseethat

Annieisstillignoringme.I sneak a glance back at

Aiden. As usual, I can’tdecipher what the hell he’sthinking.MissPralinestartsclassby

handingbackthequizzestheytookyesterday.Aiden holds his quiz in

front of my face. I see abright red A on the front ofit.“Congratulations...”“Keatyn, don’t look at his

quiz,”MissPralinechastises.She hands me a blank one.“Gooutintothehallandtakethis.”I finish my quiz quickly

thenpullmyphoneoutofmyblazerpocket.

Me: I met with Garretttoday. I hope you’re doingokaywithall that’sgoingonin the news. And yay forMillie&Deron!!Mom: I have to go in a

second. I just got called onset. But I’m happy for themtoo.Me: Gracie’s birthday is

coming up. Are you doinganything?

Mom:Herbirthdayisona

Monday, so we’re all takingthe day off. Having a familypartyatthehouse.Sheaskedfor a bouncy house, arainbow,chocolatechips,tapshoes, her very own stage,andlotsofballoons.Me:Soisthatwhatyou’re

doing?Mom: Yes, Tommy is

havingastagebuiltforher.Me:Iwanttocome.

Mom: I wish you could.

I’m really worried aboutVincent’spressrelease.Haveyou thought of dying yourhair?Me: Not really. Do you

thinkIshould?Mom: Well, it might be

safer,youknow?Ihavetogo.Loveyou.Me:Loveyoutoo.

I think about Gracie’s

birthday. How I’ve nevermissed the girls’ birthdays.How it’s not fair that I’mmissing them growing up.ThatI’msoafraidtheymightforgetme.I sigh and decide to

message Riley. I don’t feel

likegoingbackintoclassyet.Me: What did the dean

think of the video? Did heloveit?Riley: He was very

pleased.Wherewereyouthismorning? I called but youdidn’tanswer.Me: I had a dentist

appointment that I hadforgottenabout.

Riley: You didn’t sit with

Dawsonatlunch?Me: I wanted to talk to

Maggie.Riley: I think Jake has a

crushonher.Me: I think theywouldbe

cute together.But itwill pissWhitneyoff.Shewants togetbacktogetherwithhim.

Riley:Whocares.

Me:Iloveyou.

Riley:Yes,Iknow.

I decide to text Maggie

next.Me: Jake doesn’t have

rehearsaltonight.Maybeyoushould suggestmeetingup inthelibraryagain.

Maggie: Youseemedkind

of out of it at lunch today.Youwerenoddingattherighttimes,butitseemedlikeyourmind was somewhere else.Are you doing okay with allofthisDawsonstuff?Andyounever did tell me about thestars. Although Katie filledme in on what happened.WhatAidensaid.Aboutbeingfriends.

Me: Aiden is confusing.That’s why I liked Dawson.Heneverconfusedme.Itwaseasy. It’s still easy. Like itwould be so easy to justforgivehimandmoveon.Maggie: What does it’s

complicatedmeantoyou?Me: Itmeans I sleptwith

him.Iknowitwasdumb,butIhadtoseeifitwasdifferent.Like if somehow his hanging

outwithWhitney ruinedhim.Ruinedhislipsorsomething.I press send then stop.

Read what I just typed.Ruined his lips. Dawsonruinedmylipsonce.Is that what’s happening

again?Am I letting him ruinmychanceswithAiden?DoIeven have a chance withAiden? And why does hewant to be my freakingfriend?Whydoesn’thewant

tofixmylipsforever?Maggie:Didit?

Me: No. It was as hot as

always. Except now I feel alittleguiltyaboutit.Maggie: Why do you feel

guilty?Me:Idon’tknowexactly.

Maggie:Aiden?

Me:No.Notthatlongago,

hetoldmeIshoulddatethembothhim.Butthenhedidthestars and since then, there’sbeen nothing. He hasn’tasked me to hang out. Hehasn’t asked me on a date.I’vebeenfriend-zoned.Maggie: Maybe he’s

waiting to see. I just textedJake.He said, “I’d love to.”Is it bad that I’m swooning

overthefactthathewrotethewordloveinatexttome?Me: No, it’s sweet. Are

youandParkerdonehookingup?Maggie: Yeah. Logan

textedme the other day. Youknowweusedtodate.Me: You said that you

slept with him. Whathappened?

Maggie:Ibrokehisheart.

Me:How?

Maggie: I got drunk and

sleptwithmyex.ParkerandIare kind of like you andDawson,Ithink.Sexisgood.We have fun together. Like,when we aren’t fighting. Imean, of course, we said Iloveyouandallthat,but...

Me:But,WHAT??!!Maggie: I’m not sure it

wasactuallove.Ithinkitwasmorelust/love.Me: And you think that

about me and Dawson? Weneverfight.Maggie: That’s because

you’re so laid back abouteverything with him. Likewhen he freaked about the

Facebook picture. When hesent you the text that hewasdrunk in some girl’s bed.Whenhe left for theweekendwithout making damn sureyouweregoingwithhim.Andthen, not going home withyou because she texted him.Hedoesn’trespectyoulikeheshouldKeatyn. I noticed youcleaned up your room.Figuredthatwasagoodsignthat you’re taking control ofthings. It’s one thing if you

want to sleep with him orhave a friends with benefitsrelationship.I’llfullysupportthat, if that’s what you wanttodo.Butdon’ttrytopretendit’s real love. (Don’t hateme.)Me: Maybe it is a lusty

love. But so what? We’re inhigh school. It’s supposed tobefun.Maggie: True. And there

are some really hot guyshere.Maybe you should staysingle and have someof thatfun.Me: Fun soundsgood.So

doyoulikeJakeorwouldyouliketogetbacktogetherwithLogan?Maggie:Icansaywithall

honesty that I truly lovedLogan and completelyscrewed it up. Even if I

wanted another chance, he’llneverforgiveme.Hetoldmethat.I’llbelookingallmylifefor someone like him,probably. That’s why Ihaven’tbeeninarelationshipwith anyone since. No onecompares.Me: I get that. I’ll

probably compare every guytomyfirstlovetoo.Maggie: Theguy you lost

yourvirginityto?Me: No, the surfer guy. I

wassoinlovewithhim.Maggie: And you made

mistakeswithhim?Me: At the time, I didn’t

thinkso.I thoughteverythingthatwentwrongwashisfault.Butitwasn’t.Ididn’ttrusthislove. I pushed for acommitment instead of just

beinghappythathelovedme.Butback toLogan.YouwenttohomecomingwithhimandAiden and Parker. Was thatawkward?Maggie: Since he hates

me,thereisn’tmuchIcandoaboutit.IhearMissPraline’sshoes

clip-clopping toward thedoor.Shit.I’vebeenouthereforawhile.

Me:Shit.Ihavetogo.

I slip my phone back into

mypocketandpretendtojustfill in the last answer on thequiz.“Keatyn,Iforgotyouwere

outhere.Areyoufinished?”“Yes,ma’am, just finished

up.”I hand hermy test and go

back to my seat. There areonly a few minutes left in

class so everyone is eitherworking on their homeworkassignments or speaking toeachotherinhalfFrench-halfEnglish.Aiden leans up and says,

“So,it’scomplicated?”I turn around. “Yeah,

kinda.”“Soun-complicateit.”“HowamIsupposedtodo

that?”“Youcanstartbybringing

yourbootstodinnerwithme.

I heard that you don’t haverehearsal tonight. And I gotmyfirstAeveronaquiz.Weshouldcelebrate.DoyoulikeFrenchfood?”“Uh,yeah.”“There’s this little place

not too far from here. Ithoughtwecouldgo.”“Isthis,like,adate?”“No, it’s tutoring with

food. Or you could call it atutoring field trip, whicheveryouprefer.”

Myheartdrops.Again.“Oh, so, nothing special,

huh?”Iputonalittlepout.Isit bad that I wish it was adate? Especially consideringwhat happened with Dawsonlastnight?He rolls his eyes at me.

“Fine. I’d like it to be like adate. I just don’t knowwhatcomplicatedmeans.”“Itmeans thatmy feelings

arefeelingcomplicated.”“Your feelings have

feelings?” he asks with alaugh.“I told you, it’s

complicated. But I’m single.Like, I can hang out, date,kisswhoeverIwant.”“Canhe?”My heart drops a little

again. Because I don’t likethesoundofthat.Idon’twantDawson dating or kissinganyoneelse.But I say,“Yes.Yes,hecan.Orcould.Buthesayshe’snotgoingto.Idon’t

know. The whole It’scomplicated thing was hisidea. He wants to get backtogether, but I just can’t. IthinkIneedtobesingleforawhile.”“You act like you’re

together.He’swalkingyoutoclass.Youhungoutwithhimlast night. So, is he wooingyou?”“Wooingme?”Ithinkback

towhatItoldmymomwhenI was complaining about

Brooklyn’s lack ofcommitment.HowIwantedaguywhothoughtIwasworththe effort. What is Dawsondoingbesideswooingmeintobed? And does that evencountaswooing?“Yes.Ishetakingyouout?

Beingsweet?Makingyoufallforhim?”Isitthereforasecondand

thinkaboutit.“Uh...”The bell rings, so I get up

andgrabmybag.

Aiden stands next to me,totally invading my personalspace.Heleansintowardmelike he might kiss me, butinstead his lips find my ear.“Ifyouhavetothinkaboutit,theanswerisno.I’llpickyouupat6:30.”

Adamngoodactress.

SoccerThe locker room is abuzzwith gossip about a hot guythatwasseenwalkingintothegymwithoursoccercoach.Peyton says to me, “Did

youseehim?”“Uh,no.Idon’tthinkso.”“Trust me. You’d know if

you had. He’s got on a tightred Under Armour shirt andhas a smoking hot body. I’m

hoping he’s a new graduateassistantorsomething.”“Are we supposed to be

getting a new graduateassistant? Especially in themiddleoftheyear?”“I don’t know.All I know

is he’s young and really,really hot. We’re alldrooling.”Ifinishtyingmyshoesand

say,“Cool.”Shegivesmeafunnylook

thendragsmeouttothegym.

“See?”shesays.I take a quick glance at

Cooper. “Yeah, he’s prettyhot,”Isayblandly.Sheshakesherheadatme.

“I want to explore all thosetattoos.Withmymouth.”“Peyton!”She grins. “What? I can’t

helpit.Howolddoyouthinkheis?”I shrug my shoulder. “I

don’t know. Twenty-two.Twenty-three,maybe.”

Coachclearshervoiceandasksusalltohaveaseat.I plop down on the floor

and cross my legs. CooperSteelelooksatme,butIgivehimadisinterestedglance.Iamadamngoodactress.Because my eyes would

really,reallyliketolingerontheshirtthatismoldedtightlytohistorso.“So, girls, I’ve had an

interesting couple of days.Mostofyouknowthatafew

summers ago, I volunteeredon a trip delivering soccerballs to children in third-worldcountries.Itwasalife-changing experience and Ihoped to someday go back.Twodaysago,Igotinvitedtodo just that,only this time ina paid supervisory role. SoI’mtakingaleaveofabsenceand embarking on a littleadventure. Opportunities likethisdon’tcomeeveryday,sowhensomethinglikethisfalls

into your lap, you have toembraceit.I’llbeleavingyouin extremely capable hands.Meet your new coach, Mr.Cooper Steele. For those ofyou that have followed theU.S. National team or theBrown soccer team, youmight recognize him. Overthe next two days, we’regoing to acquaint him withyour skill levels. So let’s getlinedup.”“I’d like to acquaint him

with a few of my bedroomskills,” a girl sitting next tome whispers to her friend,whoeruptsingiggles.Whenwe’reinline,Peyton

starts gushing to me again.“Didyouseethosedimples?”“Yeah, I saw them. He is

pretty cute, but, I mean, Iwouldthinkyouwouldbethelastpersonwho’dwanttogetinvolvedwithateacher.”She rolls her eyes and

waves her hand at me. “I’mlegalnow.”

Boysareconfusing.4:25pm

After dance practice, Peytonyells, “Hey, Keatyn, comehere.”Iwalkovertoher.Shelowers her voice slightly and

says,“Youseemedalittleofftoday with your timing andyour kicks. That’s not likeyou.”“I’ve just got a lot on my

mind,” I say with a sigh. Imean,howmuchmorecouldIpossiblyhavepiledonmeinone day? Let’s see: Crazystalker is doing a nationwidesearchforme.Ihaveahot—no, a ridiculously hot—manhere to guard my body.Maggie thinks I’m letting

Dawson off too easy. AndAiden, who I thought hadfriend-zonedme,askedmeonadate.Well,possiblyadate.“I saw Dawson changed

his relationship status. Areyougettingbacktogether?”I sigh again. “Last night,

we, um, sorta maybe didsome stuff that made himthinkthingswereontherighttrack.”“Youhadsex?”“I’mnotsure Ishould talk

toyouabout this.Whitney isyourbestfriend.”She rolls her eyes.

“Whitney says she told youthatshewassorry.Didshe?”“Yes, surprisingly, she

did.”“I think Dawson needed

closure. He told her that heloves you. Which was soawesome.”IignoreherWhitneyslam.

“Can I ask you a questionaboutthem?”

“Sure.”“This is dumb, really. But

your stupid brother saidsomething to me earlier.” Ifidget with my locket thensay, “Did Dawson wooWhitney?”“Wooher?”“Yeah, like cute little gifts

or notes or candy? Did hescore points for her or makeher dance with him? Did hehang lights on his ceiling?Give her four-leaf clovers?

Writeonafootballforher?”Shelooksveryconfusedby

all this. “Uh, no. She invitedhim to the movies with agroup of us, sat next to him,made outwith him, and theywere togethereversince.ButDawson was a goodboyfriend, always thoughtfulandsweet.Although...”Shehesitates for a second. “Youalready know shewanted hisbrother and not him. Shestarted hanging outwith him

hoping tomakeCamjealous,but thenitdidn’twork.It’savery unromantic story.” Shelaughsout loud.“Butall thatstuff you just said. Dawsondidn’t do that. My brotherdid,right?”“Yeah.Hedid.AndIdon’t

know how I feel about himbecause sometimes he actslike he likes me and othertimesheactslikehedoesn’t.”“And how is Dawson

wooingyou?”

“That’s just it. He’s not.He’ssweet.Wehaveamazingsex. Like, it’s amazing. Andthat’s why it’s nowcomplicated. I can’t resisthim, even though I’m stillmadathim.I’mcomplicatingit. I swore I wouldn’t do itwith him until I got thingsstraight inmymind,but thenhe started kissing me. AndnowI’msupposedtogoonasort of date with Aiden. I’mbabbling.I’msorry.”

“It’s okay. Boys areconfusing. Tell me all thestuffmybrotherdid.”SoItellher.Spillmyguts,

goingall thewaybackto thestart of the school year.Aboutthelunch,thefour-leafclover, the dances, the toast,Keats,B,howhewasmadatme,tutoring,allofit.”“So why aren’t you with

him?”“Because it’s even more

complicated. When I kicked

the soccerball athishead, itfelt like we had thisconnection.Andwhenhetoldmehewasgoingtoaskmetomarry him at the top of theEiffel Tower at sunsetsomeday, itwas too amazingto believe. Especially since Iknewhisplayerreputation.”“Top of the Eiffel Tower,

sunset?” She visibly meltsandclaspsherhandstogether.“Oh, Keatyn. That’s soromantic!Iwantthat.”

“Well, obviously, it hasn’tworkedoutsowell,sowatchwhatyouwishfor.Aidengetsmad at me a lot. Gets madand walks away. Dawsonnever gets mad at me. PlusI’m pretty sure I’m love-cursed.”“I think I am too. But we

have to keep trying until wegetitright.”Shehugsmeandsays, “Sowhere is he takingyoufordinner?”“He said some French

place.Hesaidit’snotreallyadate. That it’s tutoring withfood. Then he said it was adate and that we’d celebratethefactthathegotanAonaquiz. But then he said itwasn’t a date because it’scomplicated with Dawson.But then he told me to un-complicate it. Which is partof the problem. Clearly, theboy has no idea what hewants.So,Idon’tknowwhatitis.Justadinner,Iguess.”

Shegrinsatme.Thesamestupid grin that her brothergetswhenhethinksheknowssomething that I don’t. “TheFrenchrestaurantisverynice.It’sdefinitelyadate.”I roll my eyes at her.

“Great.Isthatwherehetakesallhisgirlstowoothem?”She grabs my shoulders

and looks me straight in theeyes. “Keatyn, my brotherhasneverhadtowooanyone.Yousawhimat theCavethe

other night. They flock tohim. Practically line up. Ihappentoknowthathe’sonlybeen to that restaurant twice.Bothtimeswithourparents.”She looks me over. “You’reall sweaty. You need to goget ready. What are yougoingtowear?”“Idon’tknow.”Shegrabsmebytheelbow.

“Comeon. I’mgoing tohelpyou pick out somethingperfect.”

I’ve showered, shaved my

legs, deep conditioned myhair, and am now curling itinto the sexy supermodelcurls I wore the night wedanced under the twinklelights.Peytonissittingonmybed

flipping through a magazinewhenmyphonebuzzes.“Oh shit,” she says,

looking at my phone. “It’sDawson. He wants you to

meet him for dinner. Whatareyougoingtosay?”“The truth,” I reply,

walking over to grab myphone. “We promised toalways be honest with eachother.”Me:Ican’t.I’mgoingout

fordinner.Dawson:Withwho?

Me: Aiden. We’re

combiningtutoringwithsomeFrenchfoodtonight.Dawson: That sounds like

adate.Me: We’re both single

now.We can both go out ondates.Dawson: I only want to

dateyou.Me: Someone asked me

today what you’re doing totryandwoomeback.Doyouthinkyou’rewooingme?Dawson: I’mprettysureI

didthatlastnight.Me:Sexisnotwooing.

Dawson:Oh:(

Me: Dawson, I know the

sex isgood.Wehaveagreatfriendship. But I just don’t

know if you even like meenoughtowoome.Dawson:Soyou’regonna

datebothmeandAiden?Me: I’m not sure that

Aidenwantstodateme,butIamgoingtodinnerwithhim.Dawson: I hate you right

now.Me: And I love your

honesty. If it’s anyconsolation,Ihavehatedyouquiteabitrecentlytoo.Dawson::(

“He says he hates me,” I

tellPeyton.“He’ll get over it. You

have to do what’s best foryou. And even though I likeDawson, what he didsucked.”“Yeah, it did. My mom

toldmethatyouhavetolearnto love yourself before youcan love someone else. Doyou think that you loveyourself?”She picks up one of my

pillows and hugs it. “I thinkthat’s good advice, but it’shard to love yourself.Especially if you’re like meand have screwed up moretimesthannot.”“Isn’t that part of loving

yourself? Forgiving yourself

too?”“Yeah, probably.

Although, I’m having a hardtimewith that.Mymom hascancer.”“I know. Aiden told me.

It’sinremission,right?”“Yeah,butwhenwefound

out, my parents made somebig changes in our lives. Iwasalittlebitchaboutit.Wehad to make bucket lists. Iwas mad. Mad she hadcancer.Mad they moved me

awayfrommyfriends.So,onmy bucket list I put that Iwanted to go to boardingschool. So, of course, theysent me.” She shakes herhead. “Serves me right. Ihaven’t really liked myselfmuchsince.”Isitonthebednexttoher.

“Don’t be so hard onyourself. That was a lot tohandle. And I know yourparentsdidwhattheythoughtwas best, but moving you

awayfromyourfriends,yoursupport system, would havebeen awful. I can see whyyouactedlikealittlebitch.”Ismile at her. “Aiden toldmeabout that time. About howheendeduphere.Helovesit,though.Doyou?”“I just try to stay busy

enoughnot to thinkaboutallmymistakes.”“My mom says that our

pasts,includingourmistakes,arewhatmakeuswhoweare.

My dad died when I waseight.”Her eyes get big and she

reaches out to touch myforearm.“I’msosorry.”“It’s okay.The reason I’m

tellingyouthatisbecausemymom lovedmydad,butnowshe’s with someone else.Someone she met and justknewwasright.Shesaysthatsometimes life makes youwaitfortrueloveuntilyou’reready for it. Like all of the

stupid mistakes you’remaking now, when the rightguy comes along, you’llmaybe have them all out ofyour system. If that makessense. At least, I hope that’swhatitmeans.”She leans back and looks

up at my ceiling, like she’ssaying a prayer or making awish.“Hey, there are glow-in-

the-dark stars all over yourceiling.DidyouandKatiedo

that?”I laugh. “Actually, your

brotherputthemthere.”“Oh, wow. He is totally

wooing you. You shouldreally give the boy a chance.Now, what are you going towear?”Iwalkinmyclosetandtry

tostaycalm.Butit’shard.BecauseI.Am.Nervous.Crazy, butterflies-in-my-

stomach, strung-out, starting-to-sweatnervous.

Nervous that since thesecondheaskedmeonasort-ofdatetoaFrenchrestaurantmy mind has been going toall those dreamy places. I’vebeen writing scripts in myheadabouthowhe’lltakemetodinnerand tellme I’m theone.Thathemadeawishonthe moon. That it was fatethatbroughtustogether.Thathe wants to marry me. Thathe wants to grow old withme.

That he wants to kiss mewithhistongue.French restaurants and

French kisses should bepairedlikealambchopandavintageBordeaux.They.Belong.Together.And I could so belong to

Aiden.I should call Maggie. She

knows Aiden’s past. Hasanyone ever successfullymovedoutof thefriendzonewithhim?

No.Ican’tdothat.Idon’twant

toknow.Idon’twant tobelikeany

otherstupidgirl.I can’t even see my

clothes. They have all justbecome a blurry coloredbackground.Likeasunset.Oh.My.God.Everything—evenmyown

closet—is plotting againstme.When has my closet ever

looked like a sunset? Never.Never,ever.Ever.Always. Only. Ever. For

you.“Can’tyoufindanythingto

wear?” Peyton says, pullingme out of my maniacalthoughts.I look at my closet again.

Takeawhiffofit.It sort of smells like

Aiden.That’sit!Hewasinmyroomputting

up the stars. That’s why Ican’t think. Theremust havebeen love potion stilllingering in the air that gottrappedinmycloset.I walk out into my room,

openmywindow, and take adeep breath of fresh,cleansingair.“I think I almost have it

figuredout,”Ilie.“You aren’t usually so

indecisive. Here, I’ll chooseone.” She wanders into my

closet, flips through therack,and pulls out a pale pinkMarchesaorganzaruffledresswithablackbowatthewaist.“This is what you shouldwear.ItevenlooksParisian.”Oh,Ican’twearthatdress.

That’s the dress I’d beensaving in my closet at homefor the perfect occasion. Ibrought it here to give mehope. It’s the dress I thoughtI’d wear when I got my lifeback.

I’veevengiventhedressalittlescript.We’ll go to Paris. Stay at

the Four Seasons. Shop allthe designer boutiques. Stopfor tea and macaroons atLadurée.Then,asIwalkintoCartier,anamazinglyhotguy—who, unbeknownst to me,is the prince of a smallcountry—holdsthedooropenforme.Hewhisperstomeinasexyaccent.HetellsmeI’mbeautiful,causingmetoblush

the exact same shade as thedress.Hehelpsmepickoutafabulous piece of jewelry,then insists on buying it forme, telling me that thegorgeous gem pales incomparisontomybeauty.But, in all likelihood, that

won’thappenanytimesoon.My mind flashes to me

wearing this dress in mycoffin, instead.AfterVincentfinds me, rubs his tattooagainst me, and makes me

filmamovie.I shudder. “You’re right,

Peyton.Thatdressisperfect.”“You’re acting strange,”

she says, scrutinizing myface.Thenherfacebreaksoutinto a grin. “You’re nervous,aren’tyou?”“I just got dumped by

Dawson and then slept withhim. Now it’s complicatedand I’mgoing todinnerwithyour brother. Please, don’tstressmeout anymore.This

dinner is a simple tutoringexercise.”Shesmirks.“Whateveryou

say.Howaboutshoes?”I pull a pair of black

Jimmy Choo high-heeledsandals that have blackostrich feathers gracing thefront of them. “These, forsure,” I say, my confidencecomingback.Igrabapairoflongblack featherearrings, apearled Alexander McQueenclutch, and a rose quartz

flower ring for myaccessories.“Love the feather

earrings,” Peyton says. “Trèschic.”Myphonebuzzes.“It’smybrother,”shesays.

“He’sjustpullingupandsayshe’ll meet you in the fronthall.”

Awonderful

senseofpowerlessness.

6:30pmIwalkslowlydownthehall.I’m done freaking out. I

look good. I’m loving me.I’m doing all the things atschool that I wanted to do.I’mproudofthefactthatI’mstillhere.ThatIcameface-to-

facewithVincent—notonce,not twice, but three times—andmanagedtogetaway.But,atthesametime,Ifeel

likemyluckisstartingtorunout.MaybeIneedanotherfour-

leaf clover, I think with agrin.As I turn to walk into the

front hall, Aiden’s eyes areon me, making me feel likeI’mmaking a grand entranceataball.

Now presenting MissKeatynElizabethDouglas.I just need a little dude

standingherewithatrumpet.Oh,shoot.Scriptchange.Now presenting Miss

KeatynElizabethMonroe.Aiden is wearing a

charcoalgraysuitwithchalk-coloredpinstripesandawhitedress shirtwithFrenchcuffs.Veryappropriate.And he looks so very

handsome. I know I go on

andon about his appearance,butI’lljustsaythis.He looks like he walked

outofmydreams.He walks toward me,

kisses my hand, and says,“Vous êtes belle,mademoiselle.”“Youlookprettyhandsome

yourself,” I reply. Then Inotice his tie. It’s pink withlittle black Eiffel Towerssketched all over it. “Wegoing a little overboard on

this whole French theme?” Iask, pointing at his tie andlaughing.He chuckles and pulls up

the tie. “This was myfamily’s way of giving meshit because I barely passedFrench last year. I got a70.2% as my final grade. Itoldyou.Fate.”He leadsmeoutside to the

carthatisalmostasgorgeousas he is,walksme around tothepassenger side, opens the

door,andletsmein.Islideintotheleatherseat,

loving that Aiden has goodmanners.Aiden opens his door and

slidesinnexttome.He reachesover,grabsmy

handoutofmylap,andholdsitonthestickshiftunderhis.“Youready?”“Yeah. I’m looking

forward to seeing if you canread the menu. You have toorder.Youknowthat,right?”

He grins at me as he putsthecaringear.And I may be slightly

obsessed with the way hishand feels on top of mine.Thewayhepressesdownonitslightlywhenheshifts.It’slikehe’sincontrol.And for some strange and

surprising reason, I find thisoddlycomforting.No, comforting isn’t the

right word. I feel like he’staking care of me. Kind of

liketheold-fashionedversionofhowaman is supposed tobe.Usually,Ihavetodrivearelationship. I have to knowwhereit’sgoing.With Aiden, I have this

wonderful sense ofpowerlessness.Andit’skindathrilling.“I love your dress,” he

says.“Andwematch.”“Yoursisterpickeditout.I

wasn’t planning on wearingit.Iwassortofsavingit.”

“Whatfor?”“You know, like a rainy

day.”“Thatdressistooprettyfor

a rainy day. You look likeyoushouldbeinParishavingteaandeatingmacaroons.”My eyes practically bug

outofmyhead.Whatthehell?Can he read my freaking

mindnow,forreal?“I, uh, how did you know

that?”

“Knowwhat?”“That I was saving it for

Paris.”He squints his eyes atme.

“I didn’t. I just said that itlooks like you should. So,does Dawson know we’regoingonadatetonight?”“I thought it was tutoring

withfood?”Aiden pushes his hand

down onmine as he shifts. Iforce myself to breathenormally. I am a normal

person.“No, it’s definitely a date.

So, what did you and mysistertalkabout?”“Youknow,clothes,shoes,

boys.”“Boys?”“Well, yeah. We were

talking about wooing. Whatyousaidmademethink.”“And what did you

decide?”“So far, Dawson is not

wooing me. He’s also not

thrilled about our field triptonight.”“Youtoldhimwewereon

afieldtrip?”Ilaugh.“Naw,Itoldhimit

was tutoring with food at aremotelocation.”“So,youlied?”“Technically, that would

notbealie.Andno,Ididn’t.Itoldhimitwasadate.Eventhough you were a littleunclear about it, your sistersays it’s a date because

you’re taking me to a nicerestaurant. Plus, you’rewearing a suit. It’s totally adate.”He downshifts, stops at a

light, pulls my hand to hislips, and kisses it again.When the light turns green,hepushesitbackonthestickshift, revs the motor, andslamsthroughthegears.And I must admit, it revs

mymotortoo.“You’re driving awfully

fast.”“Iknow.It’sfun,huh?”Okay,soIhavetogush.OH.MY.GOSH.Is he freaking sexy, or

what?Him, the suit, the tie, the

car,theadrenalinerush,allofit.He is—well, it’s no

surprise. He is God of allHotties,forsure.We get to the restaurant,

whereheopensmycardoor,openstherestaurantdoor,andpullsoutmychairforme.Heisquitechivalrous.But then he flips open the

menu,writteninFrench.French is like his Achilles

heel.His oneweakness.Andit’s adorable. Plus, it’s goodto know he has at least oneweakness.“I like that you suck at

French,”Itellhim.Heslideshischaircloserto

mine and tries to read theentiremenu.And he doesn’t do half

bad.He figures out what he

wants and attempts to order.And Imaybe have to correcthispronunciationafewtimes,buthedoeswell.Anditisthemostadorable

thingeverwhenheordersforbothofus.AsGrandpawouldsay,His

Momma done raised him

right.Damn,didsheever.When thewaiter takes our

menusaway,Aidenholdsmyhandandgazesintomyeyes.I’veneverfeltsoimportant

orlikewhatIhadtosaywassoimportant.Like,youknowhow lots of times you’retalking to aguyandhis eyesarelookingeverywherebutatyou? Then he will glanceback at your face, to verifythatyouarestilltalking;then

he’ll look down and stare atyour boobs—to make surethey are still intact, I think.And thenhiseyessortofgetthat dazed look, and hecontinues to stare at yourboobs, and you want toscream, Uh, hello, I’mspeakingwithmymouth, notmycleavage;youwanna justoccasionallyglanceup?Aiden’s not doing that. I

havehisfullattention.And he sure freaking has

mine.I also realize that his pull

onmeisnotasshocking.Maybe it’s like when you

go stay up in the mountainsand get acclimated to thealtitude. I’m sort of beingacclimated to hismagnetism.I’m not quite as tongue-tiedas I usually am around him,and I’m able to think moreclearly.Heflasheshissmileatme.

“Why are you glad I suck at

French?“It makes you more

human,” I stupidly say. Ohjeez, I’m an idiot. “I mean,uh,Iwouldn’thavegottentocome here for dinner if you,um,didn’t,right?”Clearly the air is still thin

here at the top and isaffectingmybrain.He reachesoutandpushes

my hair behind my ear, likehe’s done it a million times.“I just noticed your earrings.

Love the feathers and howtheymatchyourshoes.”“Thanks. You look quite

handsome tonight yourself.Whoever tailoredyoursuit isquite talented. It fits youmeticulously.”“I wanted to look nice for

you. So, I know you andDawson are complicated, butwhataboutDallas?Youwerekissinghiminthevideo.”“Dallas and I are very not

complicated. We’re friends.

We smoke togethersometimes and then we kiss.It’snobigdeal.”“Youdon’tthinkkissingis

abigdeal? I thinkourkissesareaprettybigdeal.”He runs his thumb across

thepalmofmyhand,causingmetoshiver.The waiter interrupts our

kissingconversationwhenhesets down our appetizers. AtraditionalFrenchonionsoupand sautéed escargot in a

mushroom and red winesauce.“It’stoobadwedon’thave

a nice Bordeaux to go withthis,” he says. “Whenwe goto France, we’re drinkingwinewitheverymeal.”“Have you ever been to

France?”“Once, to Paris. Do you

liketotravel?Iloveit.”“Yeah, I do. I like to see

the different cultures,experience the foods, see the

sights, the countryside.Whereallhaveyoubeen?”“Hmm. Let’s see. Basic

stufflikeDisneyWorld.NewYork.Chicago.ThenVenice.London. Hawaii. Berlin.Amelia Island. CaymanIslands, St. Kitts and St.Croix.”“WhatdidyouthinkofSt.

Croix?”“It’slikeparadise.I’dlove

togoback,butmyparentsareonthiskickwheretheywon’t

go back to the same placeuntil they have beeneverywhere on their list. I’dlove togoback just to relax,though.”“Maybe I could arrange

that.” I can’t help it. I’msmilingbig.“Andhowareyougoingto

dothat?”“Goodfriendsofourshave

a place there. They don’t govery often, so I can use itwheneverIwant.”

“Really?”I nod. “Okay, so, this is

wayoutofleftfield...”Istopmyself.Keatyn, what are you

thinking?You’re notmakingplans with another boy onlyto be let down. You’ll go toSt. Croix by yourself forThanksgiving break. You’llhave fun relaxing. You’llworkonlovingyourself.“Um, nevermind. So, this

week rehearsals start getting

serious. I can’t believe in afew weeks we’ll beperforming in front of a liveaudience.”He holds a spoonful of

soup up to my mouth. I’mtrying not to swoon over thefactthathe’sfeedingme.“Don’tdothat,”hesays.“Don’tdowhat?”“What you just did. You

were going to ask mesomething. Something thatyou were excited about, but

then it’s like you got scaredtoaskme.”I soak an escargot inwine

sauceandeatit.“This is all really good,” I

say,avoidingthesubject.“Boots...”“Canyoureadmymind?”“No, but I sure wish I

could. I’d love toknowwhatyou’rethinking.Tellme.”Ibobmyheadaround like

an idiot, trying to think up alie. But, as usual when I’m

with Aiden, all that’s in myheadiscottoncandy.“I’m going there for

Thanksgiving break. I wasgoingtoinviteyou.Like, theplaceisbig.Peytonandyourfamilycouldcometoo.Butitwasasillyidea.I’msureyouhaveplansandstuff.”“We’vealwaysgonetomy

grandma’sfordinner,butshepassedawaylastyear,soI’mnot sure what our plans are.Why were you hesitant to

ask?”“Um, well, it’s, like, a

monthaway,andwhoknowsif we’ll even still be friendsthen.”He tiltshisheadandgives

me those green eyes. Thoseeyes thatseestraight throughme.“Boots,we’regonnabealot more than friends bythen.”Great.More.Asinwe’llbe

sleepingtogether.“I doubt it,” I say

disappointedly.“Yeah, I should probably

take into account your trackrecord.”I can’t believehe just said

that!I look down at the

tablecloth, suddenly feelinglikeIcouldcry.He leans his forehead

againstmine.WhenIlookup,he bats his dark browneyelashes at me and smiles.“You know I’m just teasing

you.Comehere.”Idon’tmove,soheputshis

handundermychin,pushingit up, straight to his waitinglips.Once again, our kiss is so

simple, so chaste, our lipstouching,barelymoving.He kisses me for a few

secondsthencruellypullshisperfectly-formed lips awayfrom me. “I’d really like toknow what you’re thinkingrightnow.”

“I’m thinking no one hasever kissed me the way youdo,” I answer honestly. Andsurprisingly.WhythehelldidIjustsaythat?!He stares at me for a few

beats ofmy heart, then says,“So, we have this Greekweekend coming up.You dorealizethatsincewe’reontheSocialCommitteewehaveanobligation to be together theentire weekend tomake sureeverythinggoesasplanned?”

I squint my eyes at him,trying to gauge if he’sserious.“Ididn’tknowthat.”“Oh, yes, I had it written

into the bylaws. So Fridaynight after the game, youhave to sit with me at themovie and sing-along.Lame.”“It will be fun and you

knowit.”“I think anything we do

togetherwillbefun.”And I can’t help it. My

mind goes to doing thingswithhim.His tongueblazinga trail across my body. Thegods only know the thingsthat boy can do with hispowerfulmouth.“Uh, yeah, probably,” I

managetosputterout.“Then, Saturday, you’ll

have to cheerme onwhile Icompete—shirtless,apparently—in the Gods ofOlympuscompetition.”“Ithinkthewholeshirtless

thing was pretty brilliant. Iwonder who came up withthatidea?”“I think I’m going to

freeze,”hesayswithalaugh.“And then there’ll be thefeast.Whereyouwilltoastinmyhonor—”“Onlyifyouactuallywin.”“I’mgoingtowin.”“Just because you danced

your way to Mr. Eastbrookedoesn’tmeanyoucanwin atwrestling.Doyouevenknow

how to wrestle?” I want toaddthatmaybeweshouldgetnaked and he could practice,butIdon’t.Heputshischinonhisfist

and licks his lips. WhichmeansIgettoseehistongue.He smirks and raises hiseyebrows atme. “Maybe I’llhavetoshowyou.”Igulp,thennervouslygrab

acurlandwrapitaroundmyfinger.He grabs my hand out of

my curl and brings it to hislips. “What?You don’twantto get naked and see whichoneofusisstronger?”Um,honestly,Idon’tknow

whatIwant.Partofmewantshim to be like every otherguy. Wants him to be aplayer.Butmostofmewantshim

tobedifferent.I flash him a fake smile.

“Thatsoundsfun,”Isaywithzeroenthusiasm.

What’s wrong with me?The hottie god wants to getnaked with me and now Idon’twantto?And to top it all off, I

suddenly feel like crying. Ican feel little tears pricklingmyeyes.Am I about to get my

period or something? WhyamIfeelingsoemotional?Aiden tilts his head atme,

looks into my soul, andsomehowknowsexactlywhat

I’mthinking.“Boots, I was just teasing

you.”My heart soars and drops

allat thesametime.“Soyoudon’twantmenaked?”He slowly blinks his eyes.

When he opens them, thehunger I saw briefly in hisroomwhenhehadmepinnedagainsthiswallisback.And,once again, it is so. Fucking.Sexy.“I definitely want you

naked. Just not yet. Weshould take things slow. Befriends.”Isithere.Notsurewhatto

say to that.Partofmewantstofighthimonit.Partofmethinks he’s right. Part of mejustwantstoseehimnaked.“So, back to this

weekend,” he says. “Wewillalso be required to kiss andholdhands.”“You’re trying to create a

Greek atmosphere by

kissing?”“Oh, no. That will be

becauseyouwantto.”“I want to? No. You’ll

wantto.”“What makes you think

that?”My response is interrupted

by the waiter bring ourentrée.Itsmellsheavenly.Hewent a little cheesy romanticon the entrée, orderingchateaubriand for two. It’sserved with a Béarnaise

sauce, roasted fingerlingpotatoes, and asparagus. Hecuts into it and feedsme thefirstrichmorsel.“Because I’m starting to

thinkthatyou’rewooingme,”I tell him after I finishchewing.“Me? Naw.” He grins.

“Whatwasyourfirstclue?”“Honestly, the way things

have gone between us, so upand down. Like, one minuteyou pulled the she-loves-me

petaloffandthenexttheshe-loves-me-not petal. Buttoday, I was telling yoursister about wooing and Irealizedallthatyou’vedone.”“And?”“Ilikeit.”

Wefinishdinner, talkover

dessert, then head out to hiscar.Again,heopensthedoorformeasIslidein.He gets in the other side,

puts the keys in the ignition,

butdoesn’tstartthecar.He leans toward me and

pushes my hair behind myear.“Iwant this feather.CanItakeitoff?”I’msortofpuzzledby this

request,butIsay,“Uh,sure.”He glides the hook out of

my ear then runs his thumbacross it. “It’s a soft as itlooks.” He runs the featherlightlydownmyarm.“Mhmm,”Igroansoftly.He pushes my hair from

one side of my neck to theother, so my neck is fullyexposedonthesideclosesttohim.Thenherunsthefeatherupthesideofmyneck.Which may be the sexiest

thinganyonehaseverdonetome.My dress has a plunging

neckline and when he runsthe feather down into mycleavage,Idecideitisindeedthe sexiest thing anyone haseverdonetome.

Howdoeshecomeupwiththisshit?His mother is Aphrodite,

that’show.Durrr.I lean back into the

headrest and close my eyes.Just feel the feather glidingacross my skin, leaving mewith goosebumpseverywhere. He glides it uponmyfaceandslowlyacrossmyeyelids.I swear, I’m taking this

feather home and having it

bronzed.Herunsitacrossmylips.Although having it dipped

in gold would probably bemoregodlike.I feelhischest touchmine

ashislipsreplacethefeather.I run my fingers into his

hair at the nape of his neck,andfinallyhekissesmemoredeeply.Still no freaking tongue,

butthekissisdeeper.Hislipsare pressed tighter to mine.

His mouth more forceful.Who was it that said weneeded to come up withanother word besidesamazing?Oh,Iforget.Hishandstangleinmyhair

then slide down myshoulders. My eyes are shuttightly,takingineverytouch.He kisses gently down myneck and then I feel onesingle finger follow theoutlineofmydress.

On.My.Naked.Skin.The finger starts on my

collarbone, making a slowdescentdownthesideofoneboob, pausing briefly in mycleavage, and then back uptheotherside.Myback is pressed tightly

against the seat, and eventhoughmy eyes are closed, Ican’tstopsmiling.And making little

contentedsighs.Hegrabsmychinandturns

myheadtowardhim.Ihalfopenmyeyes.Did Imention that Iam in

love with this boy? Onehundred percent completely,stupidlyinlovewithhim?But I am an idiot who

clearly has no cluewhat realloveis.ButIdon’tcarerightnow.I gaze into his eyes and

thenkisshimback.Eventually, sadly, the

kissingstopsandhedrivesusback to school. He parks hiscar in the lot and holds myhand as we wander slowlytowardmydorm.I’mstill inabitofadaze.

Must be an aftereffect ofkissingagod.I’m thinking about what’s

sure to come next—anamazing goodnight kiss—when I hear a voice say,“Keatie?”Oh,shit.

It’sDawson, sittingon thesteps in front of my dorm,obviouslywaitingforme.I freeze. “Uh, hey,

Dawson.What’sup?”Aiden squeezes my hand,

turnsmearound to facehim,and completely ignores thefact that Dawson is here. “Ihadagreat timetonight.”Heleans in, kisses me on thecheek,andsaysquietly,“AndI’mkeepingthefeather.”Then he turns and walks

away.Dawson says, “You’re

reallydressedup.So,yougotFrenchfood?”“Yes, we did. Aiden was

able to read most of themenu. How was your night?What’dyoudo?”Hegrabsmywaist like he

always does and pulls me intowardhim.Igivehimalittlehug.ButIcan’tkisshim.Ijustcan’t.

“IcomplainedtoBrycetheentire time you were gone.Hefinallytoldmetoshutthefuckup,soIcameoutheretowaitforyou.”Ipullawayfromhim.“Oh,

I’msorry,butIhavetogetinthere.Signin.Idon’twanttogetintrouble.Justtextmeorsomething.”

We’rebothah-

mazing.10:45pm

I’mlyinginmybed,listeningtoKatiebreathingdeeplyandknowing that she’s alreadyasleep.Iclosemyeyesandrubmy

finger slowly across my lip,remembering the feel thefeather.Itwassoamazing.

No,wait.Hangon.Isoundlikeagroupof12-

year-olds at the mall. Thatskirt is ah-mazing. You lookamazing,No,wearebothah-mazing.Time for a new word.

Amazingissooverused.I pull up the thesaurus on

my laptopand look for somenewoptions.Astonishing, awesome,

fascinating, incredible,

marvelous, prodigious,shocking, stunning,surprising, unbelievable,wonderful, extraordinary,rare, something hard to putintowords,makesyourheartbeatfaster.Okay, so tonight with

Aiden was extraordinarily,unbelievably, stunninglywonderful.Andtotallyah-mazing.Myphonebuzzes.

HottieGod:Hey:)

Me: Hey :) Tonight was

wonderful.Ienjoyedit.Hottie God: Didn’t quite

endthewayIhopeditwould.Me: Iwas shocked to see

Dawson sitting there. Sorryaboutthat.HottieGod:Justtellme.

Me:Tellyouwhat?

Hottie God: Did you kiss

him?Me:Ididnot.

Hottie God: So you’re

okay with me keeping thefeather?Me: Actually, I need it

back.

HottieGod:Why?

Me:I’mthinkingofhaving

itbronzed.Hottie God: Does that

meanyoulikedit?Me:DidIlooklikeIliked

it?Hottie God: You looked

likeyoulovedit.

Me: Youusea feather on

allthegirls?HottieGod:Onlyyou.

Me:Ididloveit.

Hottie God: Good :)

Night,Boots.I shut off my lamp and

wait for the glow-in-the-darkstarstostartglimmering.

Dawson:Keatie...

Me:Dawson...

Dawson: You’re killing

me.Me:Youkilledmefirst.

Dawson:Doyoulikehim?

Did you kiss him? Did youhavesexwithhim?

Me: Idon’tknow. Idid. Idid not. And I can’t believeyouwouldthinkIdid!Dawson: I’m feeling

uncontrollablyjealous.Me:Whywereyouwaiting

forme?Whatdidyouwant?Dawson:Totalk.

Me:Sotalk.

Dawson:Thissucks.Me:Yeah,itdoes.

Dawson: Do you want

woodfromme?Me: Wood? Seriously,

Dawson? Is sex ALL youthinkabout?No.Rightnow,Idonotwantyourwood.Dawson:That’snotwhatI

meant. I meant woo-ed or

howeverthehellyouspellit.Me: Oh, sorry. What I

want is a boyfriend thatthinksIamworthsomeeffort.I want a boyfriendwho isn’tgoing toditchme the secondhisexsendshimatext.That’swhatIwant.Dawson: I can do

romantic.Me: I’m going to sleep

now.Night,Dawson.Dawson:Noheart?

Me:</3

Itossandturn,tryingtoget

comfortable, when I realizesomething. Although I’veseen him flirting with othergirls, and although I knowthere is some dream girl hecrushed on, I haven’t heardanything about Aiden

hookingupwithanygirlsthissemester. But that can’t beright. Maybe he’s a stealth

player who hooks up withgirls under the radar. Or hehas a radar-jamming device.Orsomething.IguessIreallydon’t exactly know how astealthplayerworks.Me:Areyoustillawake?

My phone immediately

buzzes, so I answer it. “Iguessyou’restillawake.”“I am. Are the stars

glowing?”“Yes.”“Do they make you think

aboutme?”“Maybe.”“I want to see them

sometime.Youknow,Ineverhadthatmanyonmyceiling.Igotabunchmore.Iwantedit to look like I was lightinguptheskyforyou.”

“Isn’tthatasong?”“Idon’tknow?Isit?”“I think so. They’re really

pretty, Aiden. Wanna hear asecret?”“Ofcourse.”“I ordered a whole bunch

of them for one of theceilingsinmyloft.”“Yourbedroom?”“No,there’sanupstairsTV

room. Sometime soon, whentheplayisover, Iwant togothereandrelax.”

“Aw,I’dlovetocomewithyou.Thanksforasking.”“Ididn’task.”“And still, I knew that’s

what you meant. Night,Boots.”“Night,Aiden.”

Chivalryisofficiallydead.

1am

I’m still staring at the starswhen Dallas calls me. Katieisn’tbreathingasdeeplyandIdon’twant towake her, so Itexthimback.Me:TellmeyouandRiley

are going to the Cave and Iwill love you both forever. Ican’tsleep.Dallas: I want to be

adored forever. Riley just

wants some sex.But then,hedoesn’t. His indecision isdriving me mad. I NEED tosmoke. And I am requestingthepleasureofyourcompanyso that you can protect mewhen I make fun of his blueballs.Me:Iwentonadate-sort

of - with Aiden tonight.Dawsonwaswaiting in frontof my dorm when we gotback. Awkward much? I

NEEDtosmokesothatIwillnotgocrazy.Dallas: It’s chilly. Riley

says you are not getting hissweatshirttonight.Me: Chivalry is officially

dead.I throw on some

sweatpants, a big sweatshirt,and Uggs and sneak out ofthewindow.

Dallashasablanketspreadout and he and Riley arealreadyloungingacrossit.“So how’d the big date

go?”Rileyasks.“It was good. He’s so

romantic; very much agentleman.”“Dawson’s not a

gentleman?”“He is. Aiden is just, like,

chivalrous. And, Riley,regardless of how your ballsare doing, I think it’s smart

foryouandArielatowait.”Dallasrollshiseyes.“Don’t roll your eyes at

me,Dallas.Sexisallfunandnewforyou.Igetthat.Butatsome point, you’re going toget tired of doing it withsomeone who you meannothingto.Oryou’regoingtocareaboutagirl.You’llbeinlove with her. You’ll thinkbecause the sex is amazingthat she loves you back. Butthen her ex will text her, or

she’ll tell you that you’regetting too serious, or thatshe’sleavingforayear,anditwill break your freakingheart. I’m talking break it intwo.You’llbeonthegroundsobbing.”Dallas rolls his eyes atme

againandpassesmethejointhejustlitandtookahitoff.“I’m seventeen. I don’t

thinkI’mgoingtobelookingforanythingseriousforquitesometime.AndI’mcertainly

not going to let myself gethurt.”“Says the romantic who

wanted to wait until it wasspecial.”“So it didn’t work out

according to plan. I’m notgoingtogetmypantiesallinawadifsomethingdoesn’tgothewayIexpecteditto.”“You wearing panties

now?”Rileyasks,teasingly.“I could. I have a whole

drawerfullofthem.It’dsave

mefromdoinglaundryeveryweek. Look, Kiki, I’m sorryyougothurt.Youknowthat.But sex is fun. I’m havingfun. I’m not going toapologizeforthat.”“You shouldn’t,” Riley

says. “And you shouldn’tmake me feel bad becauseI’m choosing to wait forsomeone I think I careabout.”“Exactly,” I say, so they

willstoparguing.Itakeahit,

then another, then get braveand say, “Have you either ofyou ever used a feather on agirl?”

Thursday,October20thHe’sanidiot.

7:30amI’minlinewaitingforcoffeewhen I notice Annie getting

inlinebehindme.I stepoutof lineandwalk

back to her. I’m sick of heravoidingme.Her eyes get big as she

seesmemarchingtowardher.She looks around for asecond,likeshe’sconsideringjustmakingarunforit.“Why are you avoiding

me?”Shefiddleswiththezipper

on her backpack. “I knowyou’reprobablymadatme.”

“Why would you thinkthat?”“Because you threw the

star back at Aiden. Becauseyou’re mad at him most ofthe time. And I helped him.There.Isaidit.”“Iassumedthatyouhelped

him. The bliss candy was aprettybighint.”She sighs. “When you

threwthestarback,helookedhurt. So I asked himwhy hewantedtogivethestartoyou.

And he kind of spilled hisguts. He told me about thestars, the candy, phone jail,the four-leaf clover. Iwould’vetotallyswoonedifaguy did all that forme. Youjustfrustrateme.”“I apologized for throwing

it at him. We went out fordinnerlastnight.”“So, you’re done with

Dawson?”“Um,notreally.”“Are you serious? That’s

never going to work. Andwhy would want to keepdating Dawson? He’s anidiot.”“He is not. He needed

closure with Whitney. I getthat.”“Sothat’sit?You’regoing

to forgive him, just likethat!?” She stops and looksaround, sees people arestaringather.Shelowershervoice, looks like she’s aboutto cry, and stomps away.

“This is why I haven’t beentalkingtoyou.”Jake wanders up from

behind me. “What was thatallabout?”“She’smadatme.ThinksI

shouldn’t be giving Dawsonanotherchance.”“Ican’t say that Idisagree

with her on that,” he says,surprisingly.“Howwas the librarywith

Maggie?”“How was dinner with

Aiden?”hesassesbackasthefirstbellrings.In history, Riley babbled

on about how gorgeousAriela is going to look in atogaandasksmeifgirlswearunderwearwiththem.My phone buzzes with a

text.Braxton: Hey, baby.

What’s up? You got myWelcome to Eastbrooke,

Bitchespartyplanned?Me: Yes. That’swhat this

weekendis.Allaboutyou.Braxton: I love the place

already.Sothere’sthisgirl.Me:Isn’ttherealways?

Braxton: She’s the one I

told you about. She datesolder guys. Thinks I’mimmature.

Me:Shetheonewithlong

dark hair and the longesteyelashesever?Braxton: Yeah. Embry.

She’s coming this weekendtoo.Me: Let me guess. You

wanttoimpressher?Braxton: Can’t decide.

Partofmewantstokisssome

hotoldergirlrightinfrontofher. Make her see that I’mnotimmature.Me: Um, trying to make

someone jealous on purposeis sort of immature. I’mafraidshe’dseerightthroughit.Braxton: Fine. Then I’ll

forgetaboutherandyoucanbemydate.

Me:Me?Braxton: Remember the

beach this summer?How if Iwalkaroundwithahottieonmyarm,allthegirlswillwantme? Don’t you rememberthat? It was an importantconversation!Me: I remember the

conversation. And I will beyour date for the party. Thatwill actually solve a tricky

situationformetoo.Braxton: Heard you’re

stillfuckingmybrotherwhileyou’re dating someone else.Kindaslutty,ifyouaskme.Me: Ididn’taskyou.And

I’mnotdoingthat.I’msingle.DawsonandIscrewedupbytaking things too fastsexually. That should be alessontoyou.

Braxton: Dawson isbrilliantifyouaskme.Lovedthevideo,bytheway.Me:Rileytoldmethatyou

triedtorecreateit.Braxton: That didn’t go

overtoowellwithMom.Me: Iheard that too.Got

yourtogaready?Braxton: You know, in

ancient Greece, they wentcommando. I am a Johnson.I’ve always been big for myage.Betterwatchout.Me: So is the girl excited

tocome?Braxton: Isn’t it the girl

getsexcited,thenshecomes?Me:Growup.

Braxton: Fine. Yes. I

heard her talking about it.She saw the video you did.Wants tomeet you.Wants tobe on the dance team.Thought the guys playingsoccerwithnoshirtsonwerehot.Me: Ihaveanewline for

you.Dallastoldmeyesterdayduringclass.Braxton:Hitme.

Me: Did you know thatone minute of kissing burns25calories?Weshouldworkouttogether.Braxton: I changed my

mind.Iwantthetrio.Me:Whattrio?

Braxton: From the video.

Blonde, brunette, andredhead. You can all be mydates. Get ready, bitches!!!

Shit, Ihave togo.Teacher isgivingmetheevileye.

HowcanIrefuse?Lunch

Iwander into the café tryingtofigureoutwhereI’mgoingtosittoday.Aiden, who was all sweet

last night, has been nowhereto be found. I thought hemight try and talk to metoday.Walkmetoclass.Textme.Something.Anything.But,no.Andit’ssuchaletdown.I spy Maggie already

sitting at a table with Ace,Annie, Katie, Riley, Ariela,Dallas, and Logan. I decidethat’s where I’m heading

when familiar arms wraparoundmywaist.“Sit with me,” Dawson

says.I lookathim.Sogorgeous

and sweet. “Sure,” I say,knowingthathe’strying.When we sit down, Jake

and Bryce are talking aboutgoing to the JV gametonight.“You should come with

us,”Jakesaystome.“Yeah,” Bryce says. “It’s

supposedtorain,soitshouldbeamuddygame.Those aresofuntowatch.”“Sitting in the raindoesn’t

reallysoundfun,”Isay.“ButIdon’thaverehearsaltonight,sowhynot.”Dawson rests his hand on

my leg and turns towardme.“Whydon’twemeettheguysthere? We can stop and getdinner and then go sit in therain and be miserabletogether?”

“Wow, when you put itthatway,howcanIrefuse?”“Iloveyou,Keatie.”And I know I should feel

all warm and fuzzywhen hesays that but, right now, itjust sort of feelsinappropriate.And the way Peyton and

Whitney both shake theirheads and roll their eyes athim,IknowI’mnotaloneinmythinking.Peytonquicklychangesthe

subject though. She turns toWhitney and the soleminionandsays,“Healthhasbecomemynewfavoriteclass.”“Mine too,”Whitney says.

“Isn’tMr.Steeletotallyhot?”“He’s not even that big,”

Bryce replies, flexing hismuscles at her. “Can’tcomparetothis.”Shelaughsathim.“Inyour

dreams,Bryce.Iheardhewasan MMA fighter. And thosetattoos. Why can’t all the

teachers look like him? I’dnever skip a class. In fact, Ihave an appointment withhimthisafternoon.Can’twaitfor a little one-on-one timewithhim.”Jake smashes his jaw

togethertightly.Icantellthathe’s pissed. Just the otherday, Whitney told him shemadeamistakeandwantedtogetbacktogetherwithhim.“I thought you wanted to

getbacktogetherwithJake?”

Iblurtout.She shrugs her shoulders,

like Jake was no big deal.“Not anymore. I’m aiming alittlehigherthistime.”Jake stands up, grabs his

tray,andwalksaway.Peyton looks at Whitney

and smiles.And theway shesmiles makes me a littleuncomfortable. I’m prettysure she’s trying to planWhitney’s demise. I look atthelunchtable,knowingJake

willprobablynotbeback.And realize that’s exactly

whatPeytonwants.That’s why she’s been

standingupforWhitneywiththeminions. Shewants themgone.She wants for Whitney

whatIwantedforVanessa.Forhertoendupsittingon

herthrone.Allalone.

Nothinggood.French

Aiden drops his backpackdown onmy desk. I see thatmyfeatherearringisattachedtoitszipper.Itouchit.“ItakeitI’mnot

gettingthisback?”“I might want to use it

again.”“You’vebeenMIAallday.

Whathaveyoubeenupto?”“Just doing some Social

Committee stuff with Brad.Tying up loose ends stuff.Sincetheysentoutthevideo,they’ve doubled the numberof prospective students.We’re trying to adjust ourplansaccordingly.”“Doyouneedhelp?”“No, we got it all done.

The welcome packets areready. The rooms areassigned. All that stuff.

Speaking of the video. Haveyou thought about getting anagent? Maybe doingcommercials or something? Ithink you could sell aboutanythingtoanyone.”“Probably not until I get

done with school,” I lie. Iwish I could tell him whatVincentisdoing.Howthere’snofreakingwayIcouldbeonTV. I decide to change thesubject.“Rileytoldmeearliertoday that Coach is making

youkick forboth theJVandVarsity games this week.Even though it’s supposed torain, I’m coming to thegame.”“Don’t you have

rehearsal?”“I get to skip again.

They’restillworkingthroughtheirlines.”“Really? That’s cool . . .”

Then he stops. “Are yougoingwithDawson?”“Well, yeah, there’s a

bunchofusgoing.”“I heard you were at the

Cavelastnight.”“Howdidyouhearthat?”“Dallas said something to

Riley about it earlier. Sorry,I’m not stalking you oranything.”IthinkaboutDawson.How

cuteheiswhenhestalksme.Meeting me after classes.HowitmakesmefeelwhenIwalkoutofmydormandseehimsittingon thebrickwall.

Maybehejusthasadifferentwayofwooing.“Okay,” I say, not sure

wherethisisgoing.“Didyoukisshim?”“Who?”“Dallas. Did you get high

andkiss?”“Um,wegothigh...”He lockshis teeth together

andlooksmad.Annie comes rushing in,

slidingquickly intoherdesk.“Oh,IthoughtIwasgoingto

belate.What’dImiss?”From behind me Aiden

says,“Nothinggood.”Shit.Heismadatme.Again.Andhedidn’tletmefinish

myfreakingsentence.Again.I turn around. I don’t care

that Miss Praline has startedtalking.I madly cross my arms in

frontofmychestandsay,“Ithought you were going to

start letting me finish mysentencesbeforeyoujumptoconclusions?”“And I thought . . .” He

stops.“Nevermind.”Myvoicegetslouder.“No.

There’s not going to be anevermind.I’msickofit.”Miss Praline says,

“Keatyn? Aiden? Is there aproblem?”“Yes, actually there is,” I

say.“I’mfeelingsick.May Igotothenurse’soffice?”

Shenarrowshereyesatmeas I put on my sick face.Slack face, sad eyes, slightlyloweredhead.“Of course, Keatyn,” she

says.I throw my books in my

bagandwalkoutthedoor.I don’t go to the nurse’s

office.Itossmypassintothetrash and race to the fieldhouse.I change into my workout

clothes and then go to townon the punching bag. I neverpromised not to pretendpunch his head. Besides,probably better to pretendpunch it than punch it forreal.I’mkicking the shit outof

the bag when Cooper Steelesaunters in. “You’re doingthatwrong.”“What do you mean, I’m

doingitwrong?”He walks behind me,

reaches over my shoulders,grabs my hands, and pullsthem back in toward mywaist.Whenhedoesthis,I’mthrust back against his rocksolidbody.Heturnsmyhandsoverso

that my palms are facingupward.Thenhepushesthemforward and flips them astheyreachthebag.“That’s how to throw a

proper punch. Shouldn’t youbeinclass?”

“Iwasfeelingsick?”“Looks to me like you’re

feelingpissed.”Isigh.“Thattoo.”He knits his brows

together, thinking. “Comeinto my office. We need toget to know each otherbetter.”“That’s pretty forward of

you,Mr.Steele,”Isaywithasmirk.He gives me a coach’s

smack on the butt. “Get

going.”Is it bad that I totally just

pictured Cooper Steele tyingme to a bed and spankingme?Okay, Keatyn. That’s it.

No more reading naughtyromances on your phoneduringschool.He grabs me by the arm

and drags me toward hisoffice.AndIcan’thelpit.Ilikeit.

Ihaveastupidgrinonmyface when Whitney comesaround the corner. “Uh, Mr.Steele, I was just coming tosee you.We have a meetingto discuss the competitionsfor this weekend’s Greekevents.”“It’ll have to wait. What

wasyournameagain?”Whitney looks startled.

Shocked, really. Isn’t everymale on the planet supposedtoknowhername?

“Um, it’s Whitney.Whitney Clarke. I’m on theSocial Committee. We haveanappointment.”Cooper flashes a smirk at

her and looks down at hishand, which is still firmlywrappedaroundmyarm.“Asyou can see, Miss Clarke,I’vegotmyhandsfull.”He drags me into his

office, shuts the door onWhitney’s face, and thenturnstheblindsonthedoor’s

windows.Itrynottogiggle.“Sit up here on the desk,”

he tells me loudly. When Idon’t move, he picks me upandsetsmeonthedesk.I am almost positive that

Whitney is still outside hisdoor.Icanonlyimaginewhatshe’sthinking.Of course, I’m totally

thinkingthesamething.I so shouldhave asked for

ahotbodyguardsooner.

Hepacesandspeaks.“DidGarrett teach you selfdefense?”“Um,notreally.”“Whynot?”“Didn’thebriefyouonthe

situation?”Cooper takes a step back,

like I just offended him. “Ofcourse,I’vebeenfullybriefedonthesituation.”“But you don’t understand

how fast it all happened,maybe?”

“Tell me,” he says as hetakesaseat.I tell him the story. The

whole drawn-out story. Hejustkeepsnodding.“Basically,wetalkedabout

safety and fear. He gave mesome pepper spray, which Itry to keep in my purse. Iwear my locket most of thetime. And I’ve gotten awayfrom Vincent three timesnow.So,youknow,Imustbedoingsomethingright.”

“Standup,”hecommands.Whatisitwithhimandthe

two-word sentences? I staysitting on the desk. I’ll showhim.“Makeme.”Cooperstrikesfasterthana

cobra. He grabs me, twistsmyarmsbehindmyback,andpushesmyfacedownintothedesk. I’m horrified by howquicklyIwasovercome.“Is thiswhat youwant? Is

this the position youwant tobein?”

There’s a knock on hisdoor. “Mr. Steele,” Whitneysays. “I reallyneed to conferwithyou.”“Just a moment,” he says,

still holdingmedownon thedesk.“Isthisthepositionyouwanttobein?”heasksagain.“No,”Iwhimper.“Thenyouneedtodowhat

Isay.”“Yes,” I say as he pushes

harder.“Get to class. I’ll go

through the school’s securityand figure out a plan foryou.”“Um,okay.”I walk out of his office

door, suddenly feeling like Ican’tbreathe.I run outside and down to

thetrack,whereIsprintuntilIcan’tsprintanymore.Then I sit down on the

groundandcry.BecauseIjustrealizedthat

next time I probably won’t

getaway.

Areyoueffingkiddingme?

6:10pm“So,we’re alone.Out on thehighway. Anything come tomind?”I’m in the car with

Dawson. He’s got the radio

turnedupandhishandonmyknee.I think for a second. And,

well, no. Nothing comes tomind.“Uh?”“I’m driving. You maybe

wanna do something a littlenaughty?”ThenIgetit.He wants road head. Are

youeffingkiddingme?“That sounds very

romantic.”But I don’t do anything to

him. Instead, I look out thepassenger-side window andfightbacktears.Idon’twinthefight.I turn to face him. “Hey,

I’mnotfeelingwell.Willyoutake me back to school,please?”He seesmy tears. “What’s

wrong?Whyareyoucrying?Oh,wait.DidyouthinkIwasserious?Iwasjustjoking.”“No, you weren’t. You

didn’t open the car door for

me. You didn’t make anyplans for tonight. And yourideaofromanceisaskingmetoblowyouwhileyoudrive.Thisisn’tgonnawork.”Heletsoutabigsigh,pulls

off the side of the road, andturns to me. “Keatie, I wasjust joking. Canwe not jokeand have fun anymore? Wehadsextheothernight.Itwasamazing,likealways.”“I’msorry.ButIshouldn’t

have.It’snotfairtoyou.”

“Howisitnotfairtome?”“Because it’s giving you

the wrong impression. Itmakes you think things areokay with our relationshipwhenthey’renot.”“I’ve done stuff for you.

Homecoming. The keynecklace.”“Iknowyouhave.Wejust

never dated. And that’s notyour fault. I never gave youthe chance to woo me. Weslept together fast. Then

thought we were in love.Then . . . Well, then it wasover. Iknowwecomplicatedthings by sleeping togethertheothernight. I justwantedtofeelclosetoyouagain.ButI also want to feel close toyou in ways other than sex.Maybe we shouldn’t sleeptogether until we figure thisout.”“You’re right. We

probably shouldn’t. Keatie, Ineverwantedtohurtyou.”

“I don’t want to hurt youeither.”He pulls me into his arms

and kisses me. They aresweetI’msorrykisses.Kissesthatgetallmixedup

withmytears.As usual with our kisses,

they quickly turn from sweettofullofdesire.He pushes his seat back

andpullsmeover,soI’monhislap,straddlinghim.Pretty soon we’re doing

exactlywhatwe just decidedweshouldn’tdo.Anditfeelsamazing.

“Just so you know, I’m

taking you to a cool littleplacefordinnertonight.Iamplanningtowooyou,andnotjustwithsex.”“Really?” I say and start

cryingagain.“Why does that make you

cry?”Isniffle,cryingthroughthe

words. “Because it means Idon’t have to feel bad aboutwhatwejustdid.”“You feel bad? How can

youfeelbadaboutsomethingthatfeltsogood?”“Because it’s not that

simple.”“Howmuch simpler can it

get, Keatie? We have sex.Amazing, mind-blowinglygood sex. I’m sorry if Ihaven’t made a big deal ofgoingout ondates. I did ask

you toHomecoming in abigway.Iplannedstuff.Youhadfun,didn’tyou?”I nod, dry my tears, and

feelsomuchbetter.Hedrives abit farther and

takesmetoaholeinthewall.The outside is rundown,needs painting and needs anew sign. But I notice theparkinglotispacked.It’s a casual Mexican

restaurant and there’s a longline of people waiting to get

in, but Dawson walks up tothe front, shakes a guy’shand, andmotions forme tofollowhim.The guy leads us through

the restaurant and then out aslidingglassdoor.NowIseewhytheplaceis

sopacked.There is a huge courtyard

under a glass roof.The glassroof is sparkling clean, andyou can see the cloudsfloating by as the sun turns

them various shades of pink.There are little twinkle lightseverywhere,acrossthebeamsontheglassceilingandinthehugepottedtrees.We are seated at a table

that is set between a coupletrees and has a feeling ofseclusion.Dawsonpullsoutmychair

formeandgrinsatmeasIsitdown.“This place is very cool.

Howdidyoueverfindit?”

“I wanted to take yousomewherespecial.I’vebeenlooking up restaurants allafternoon.”I lean over and kiss him.

“Thankyou.”AMariachibandstrollsup

to our table and startserenadingus.Dawson looks irritated,

handsoneofthedudesawadof cash, and shoos themaway.

We get to the game a bitlate.The scoreboard shows that

the second quarter has juststarted andwe’re down by atouchdown.Itstartstosprinklerain.The rain gets harder, the

field gets muddier, andDawsonholdsmetighter.Pretty soon, it’s theendof

thegame.Thescoreistied.Onlyafewticksleftonthe

clock.Aidenwalksonto the field

tokickthewinningfieldgoal.His uniform is wet. Moldedtightlytohispadsandbody.He looks at the goal post.

Lines up the kick. Then hestopsandlooksdeadatme.He does a complicated-

looking thingwithhishands.His thumbs and pointerfingers form touching doubleO’s. Then the rest of hisfingers form sort of a bridge

abovetheO’s.Sort of like you would

makeaheartwithyourhands.But I have no idea what it’ssupposedtobe.Theballissnapped.Logan

lines up the laces and Aidenkickstheballstraightthroughthegoalposts.The guys rush out on the

field to congratulate him asthecrowdcheers.At midnight, I’m lying in

bed, trying tomimicwhathedidwithhishands.Whenallofasudden,Isee

it.Myphonebuzzes,startling

me.Hottie God: You need to

sneak out tonight tocongratulateme.Me: That thing you did,

before you kicked it. Was itsupposed to be a four-leaf

clover?HottieGod:TheCave.One

hour.This is crazy. I really

shouldn’tgo.ButI’mgoingto.

Takeoffyourpants.

1amIt’s stopped raining, but isstillcloudy,damp,andchilly.I trudge back through thetrees, getting my boots allcoveredwithmud.Aidenisn’thereyet,soIsit

down on a stump, realizingtoo late that it’s very wet.And now, so are the back ofmy sweats and even myunderwear.

Is there anything worse,really,thanadampass?Thisisnotveryromantic.I hear the brush moving

andget amomentary rushofworry about getting caughtouthereaftercurfew.Butthetreelimbspart,and

Aidenwalksintotheclearingcarrying a Burberry sleepingbag.“No way I’m sleeping

outside in this weather,” Itease.

“The backing iswaterproof, so we won’t getwetwhenwesitdown.”“Too late for that.” I turn

aroundandshowhimmywetbackside.“There’s nothing worse

than a damp ass,” he says.Which are the exact words Ijust thought a few secondsago.Oh, the fates are so toying

withme.Hespreadsoutthesleeping

bagwiththeshinysidedown,kicks his shoes off, thenstands on top of it and startstakingoffhissweatpants.Uh,holyshit.Whatisthis?Iwatchthough.He has the best legs at

school. They have justenough lightblondhair tobemasculine, but not enough tobehairy.“Whatareyoudoing?”“Take off your pants,” he

commands.“Isn’t this moving a little

fast?Imean,wehaven’tevenmadeoutyet.”He laughs and shakes his

headatme.“SillyBoots.I’mgoing to let you wear mysweats. I have athletic shortsunderneath.”“Oh,um,I...”“What? It’snot thatbigof

adeal.”“Exceptthatmyunderwear

gotwettoo.”

He runs his tongue acrosshis bottom lip and grins atme. He’s never made thisfacial gesture in front ofme.And the combination of hismouth and tongue bothlooking at me at the sametime.Ican’teventellyouwhatit

does.It makesmy stomach flip,

like Iwason a roller coasterand we just flipped upsidedown doing 75 miles per

hour.Youhad sexwithDawson

tonight,youidiot.Whatiswrongwithme?I need off this ride and

fast.Have you ever been on a

roller coaster, upside down,and all of a sudden it feelslike maybe your seatbelt—that little piece of webbedmaterial—isn’t quite as tightas it should be? You feelyourselfslideafractionofan

inch andmentally prepare tofall to your death before ittightensupagain?IfeellikeI’mreadytofall

outoftherollercoaster.Plummettomydeath.And I briefly think,What

wouldmyheavenbelike?When my dad died, Mom

explained heaven as thisamazing place where Daddywas livinghisbestdaysoverandover.LikethedaywegoticecreamandrodetheFerris

wheel then walked along thebeachholdinghands.And my mind flashes to

Aiden gliding a feather allover me. That is my idea ofheaven.“You can take them off

too. I won’t look,” Aidensays, referring to my wetundies as he hands me hiswarmsweats.And, sadly, he doesn’t

even attempt to peek as Islidethemon.

I say what’s on my mindbefore I think better. “Haveyou ever been naked inthese?”He pulls me onto the

sleeping bag with him andkissesmeinresponse.Andhishands.Histalented

hands are finally movingacrossmybody.Forthefirsttime,heseems

likeanormalboy.Likeanormal,hornyboy.He stops and leans up on

one arm. “So you figured itout,huh?”And I want to say, That

youareagod?Yes,Iknow.Hemakes half the symbol

with his fingers. It looksincomplete,soImirroritwithmyfingersandhold themuptohis.And when our fingers

touch,Isweartogod,asparkshootsfrommyhandtohis.“A four-leaf clover,” I say

breathlessly.

He rolls on top of me,straddlingmeandpinningmeunder his weight. It’s aneffortlessmove.I look at him, my eyes

wide.“Use both your hands to

make the double O’s,” hetellsme.SoIdo.Then he puts one hand on

each side of mine, formingtwomoreO’s.“That does look like a

clover.”“It’s going to take both of

us to make this work,” hesays. “I heard Dawson tookyouonadatetonight.”“Hesayshe’sgoingtostart

wooingme.”“Doesn’t matter,” Aiden

says,still forming theclover.“I’mgoingtowin.”“It sorta looks like our

hands are having sex,” Ilaugh.“Like, thewaythey’rejoinedtogether,kinda...uh,

nevermind.”“Let’stalkaboutsex.”JustAidensayingtheword

sex almost leaves me morebreathless than actual sexwithDawson.“Uh,okay.”He leans down, hismouth

about twelve inches frommine. “We’re going to takethingsslow.”“Iwanna take things slow.

Like, ifyouwerejusthopingfor sex fromme, you should

probably halt the wooingprocess.”“Doesthatmeanyouwon’t

be having sex with anyoneelse during the wooingprocess?”“Um...”“So that’s why I’m not

winning? If we had sex,wouldIwin?”I let out a little laugh. “I

don’t know. You think itwouldbeanygood?”He runs his finger gently

downmyneck.“Whatdoyouthink?”I swallow hard. “God,

don’tdothattome.IknowIslept with Dawson too soon.ButI...”Hestartstogetoffme,but

Igrabhishands.“Ireallydon’twanttohear

this,”hesays.“You need to hear it. I

thought I could go fast withthe sexual part of arelationshipandslowwiththe

feelings part, but I can’t. Itgets all messed up. Allbackwards. I want to wait.And I don’t want this tobecome some sort ofcompetition.”“Boots?”He moves closer to my

face.“Yeah?”“I’d wait for you forever.

Youdon’tgetitdoyou?”“Getwhat?”“We’re going to be

together for a long time.There'snoneedtorushthingswhenyouknowthat.”“Do you know how weird

it is for a guy to say that?Guyshatecommitment.”“Didyounotfeelit?Wasit

justme?”“No, I felt it too. I just

thought you were a playerandfoughtit.”“Don’tfightmeanymore.”Idon’tgettoreply.Hislips

quicklyclosethegapbetween

us.All of a sudden, there is a

huge clap of thunder and abolt of lightning hits a treenot too far from us. Rainstarts coming down inbuckets.Aiden pulls me up off the

ground.We laugh at how instantly

soakedwebothare.Butthenwelockeyes.Hislipspressagainstmine.And there in the pouring

rain,Igetthe.Best.Kiss.Of.My.Entire.Life.And I’m pretty sure with

thiskiss,hebrandedme.Seared his initials intomy

skin.Like bite marks from a

vampire.I’mhis.

When I get back from the

Cave, I change out of mysoakingwetclothesandlieinbedthinkingaboutourkissin

therainandwonderinghowitcouldhavebeenthebestkissofmylife.Therewerenotongues.Justlipscolliding.Lightning around us

mimicking the electricity Ifeel every time our lipstouch.It was a simple, single,

electrifyingkiss.Anditwasamazing.

Friday,October21st

Ineedsomecake.

10:30am

Most of the classes todayhave very few people inthem.Mostofusareworking,getting everything set up forthePSW/Greekweekend.I find Peyton in the café

overseeingitstransformation.There are huge blackcanvasesdrapedonthewalls.Art students are usingprojectors to beam classicsculptures onto the wall andare tracing them with whitechalk. Others are drawing

thick Greek columns andfillingthefakewindowswithviewsofabrightblueocean.“Hey,” she says. “It’s

looking great, don’t youthink?”“It really is. I just stopped

bytocheckitout.Bradgavemealistofstufftodo.Ihaveto go make sure the audioequipmentisallreadyforthemovie tonight and that thegymissetup.”“I heard that you’re

hanging out with Dawsontonight and my brothertomorrownight.”“That’stheplan,yes.”“Doyouthinkdatingthem

both is a good idea? Imean,usually when you date morethanoneguy,youmake surethey run in different circles,youknowwhatImean?”“Yeah, I know what you

mean.”She leans in andwhispers,

“So,Iwasflirtingwithhottie

Cooperthismorning.”“Peyton,don’tdothat.”“Whynot?There’snoone

hereIwanttodate.”“WhataboutBrad?”“Hmm, let’s see. Pretty

littleboyBradversusamanlytattooed hottie. Um, no.Besides, I’m pretty sure thathewasflirtingback.Whitneywants him too. But I’m notgoingtoletherwin.”“Peyton, look, this thing

you have going on with

Whitney.Iknowwhatyou’retryingtodo.And,Iswear,it’sgoingtobackfireonyou.”“Noway.I’mnotafraidof

heranymore.Youwereright.It’ssillyofmetoletherholdthat over my head. I was aminor. What good would itdo if it came out now?Sure,it’d be embarrassing, butpretty soon I’ll be at collegefarawayfromhere.Andher.By the way, I saw whatDawson did in front of your

dorm.”“Whatdoyoumean?”Shegrins.“Looks likeyou

have twoboys trying towooyou.”I decide to stop by my

dorm to see what she’stalking about before I makemywaydowntothegym.Maggie is outside, writing

all over the sidewalk withchalk.“Doesn’titlookamazing?”

“It’s really pretty,” I tellher, looking at all themessages the girls in ourdorm have written towelcome the prospectivestudents. “How was thelibrarywithJake?Iaskedhimabout it and he wouldn’t tellme.Healwaystellsme.”She grins, full on. “It was

good. Very much a friendthing. I’m pretty surewe areinthesameboat.”“Thefriendboat?”

“Yeah. You still in thatwithAiden?”“I’m not sure anymore.

Last night he told me weweregoingtobetogetherfora long time. Does that seemweirdtoyou?”“Not if you feel the same

way.But,wait,Ithoughtyouwent to the game withDawson?”“I did. And I was bad.

Again. We decided weweren’t going to anymore,

butwedid.”“Youhavenowillpower.”“You’re right. Dawson is

like me satisfying my sweettooth. When I’m havingsomethingsweet,Iloveit,butthen when I’m done, I feelguilty.”“Becauseofthecalories?”Ilaugh.“Yes.Dawsonisa

fivelayerchocolatecakewithganachefilling.Impossibletoresist, but leaves you feelingalittleguiltyafter.”

“He stopped by hereearlier.Didyouseeit?”“Peyton said something

aboutit.”Maggie grabsmy arm and

pulls me toward the dorm.There on the first step, nearwhere he always sits andwaits for me, is a huge pinkheart. It says: Dawson +Keatie.“Oh,that’ssosweet!”Dawson grabs me around

mywaist.“I’mgladyouthink

it’s sweet. I have somethingelse sweet for you in mydorm.Comeon.”As we walk next door, I

say, “Did you see yourbrother’s neck? He has newhickeysovertheoldones.”“Didyouseemybrother’s

stomach?”“We’ve never done that,

you know. Given each otherhickeys.”“You’vegivenmeacouple

little ones before,” he says,

pulling me into his bedroomandsuckinghardonmyneck.“Wantmetogiveyouone?”“Notreally,”Ilaugh.“You

know,wekindofmissedouton all that. The kissing forhours, the hickeys, and allthat.”“Is that what you want?

FormetowriteDawesacrossyour stomach?” Heimmediately puts his lips onmy stomach, which isexposed in my game day

dance uniform. “Maybe I’lljust put my football numberonyou.Markmyterritory.”“Uh...”“I’mjustplaying.Tellyou

what.Let’sjustmakeout.”I smile at him. “That

soundslikefun.”Wekissforafewminutes.But when he pulls me on

top of him, our kissing getsdeeper, and both our hipsstart that little movementtowardeachother.

“Keatie, you gotta stopthat.”“Stopwhat?”“Every time you kiss me,

youmoveyourhips intome,and you keep making thosesexy little noises. I don’tknow howmuch more I cantake.”“That’s cuz you keep

pushingmybuttintoyourlegandmovingitagainstme.”I roll off him and wrap

bothmy arms up aroundmy

head.Heputshishandacrossmyexposedstomachandthendowninsidemydancepants.Imoan,thensighandtryto

shake this desire. “Whathappenedtojustkissing?”He runs his hand further

down,pullingmypantsdownin the process. “I don’t thinkthat’sgonnahappen,”hesayshuskily, as I use his feet tokickmypants the rest of thewayoff.He pulls off my thong

whileI try toundohisbelt. Ifinally get it undone, unziphis shorts, andpull down thefront of his boxers.He holdsmy hands down above myheadwithonehand,whileheslides off his shorts andboxers.Then he grins at me and

says, “We’re just gonnakiss.”Iwrapmy legs aroundhis

waist in agreement. “Yeah,we’lljustkiss.”

Dawsonmaynottouchmysoul, but the parts he doestouch, he makes feel reallygood.After we get dressed,

Dawson says, “I’m starved.Let’sgogetlunch.”We’re now sitting at the

lunch table,probably lookingwaytoohappy.Bryce says to me, “So,

what’s going on with youtwo? I saw the It’s

complicated thing, but then Iheard you had a date withAiden.”“We’re allowed to date

other people,” Dawsonanswers.“So, you’re still hooking

up?”Dawson laughs and says,

“Um, we decided we’re justgonnakiss.”My phone makes a little

email ding, tellingme IhaveamessagefromGrandma.

Grandpa says youwant to

know the difference betweenlove and true love. JoanCrawford said this, “Love isa fire, butwhether it’s goingto warm your heart or burndown your house, you cannevertell.”Dawsonand Iare theonly

onesleftatthelunchtable,soIaskhim,“Doyoubelieveintruelove?”

“Uh,Ithinkso,why?”“Do you think you just

know?”“Like love at first sight?

Romantic fairy tale stuff? Ithough what we just did inmy room was pretty damnromantic.”“Our just kissing was

romantic?”“Hell,yeah.”I tilt my head and look at

him,likeSeriously?“Okay, so it probably

wasn’t romantic. It was hot.Sexy. That’s what all this isabout, huh? The romance?Wehave the sex,butnot theromance? Wasn’t last nightromantic?”“Dinnerwasromantic.”“So early dinner and then

tonightafter thegameyou’remine,right?”“I think I already was

yours.”He laughs. “Naw, we just

kissed.”

Justkiss.1pm

After lunch, Idoall thestuffBradaskedme to, thengo tothe small auditorium whereall the student guides aremeeting to get instructionsaboutwhatwe’reexpectedtodowith the visiting students.Aidensitsdownnexttomeas

I’mstudyingthephotosofthetwogirlswhoaregoingtobeKatie’sandmyroommates.“So, tonight, we’re doing

dinnerbeforethegame,right?I have something specialplanned.”“Oh, um, I didn’t know

thatyouplannedsomething.Iwastryingtobefair,soItoldDawson I would hang outwith him tonight. Thentomorrow, all day—well,except for the party after

curfew—I’m yours. Like, ifyouwant.”“Bryce told me you and

Dawson decided you’re justgonnakissfornow.”I blush and look down,

hopinghedidn’tnotice.“Well,we’regoingtotry.”Henarrowshiseyesatme.

“Idon’tlikethis.”“Don’tlikewhat?”“Youdatinghimonenight

andmethenext.Itsucks.”“But you’re the one who

toldmetodateyouboth.”“Yeah, I know,” he says

with a sigh as he runs hishand through his hair. “So,areyouokaywiththat?”“Okaywithwhat?”“With me dating you one

night and someone else thenext?”“Youcandowhateveryou

want.”He sweetly puts his

forehead against mine. “Ihaven’tdatedanyoneelsethis

year. Don’t know why I’dstartnow.”I bite the edge of my lip,

tryingtosuppressasmile.He lets out a loud laugh.

“You love getting your way,don’tyou?”My little smile breaks into

afull-ongrin.Ican'thelpit.He squints his eyes atme.

“You like that I’m a littlejealous.”“Kinda.”“Youareabadliar.”

“Fine, I like that you'remaybea little jealous. Idon'tknowhowyoufeel.”“Boots, love isn't like a

cute pair of shoes.You can'ttry it on to see if it fits andwalkoutthedoorwearingit.”“Iknowthat.”“You told me sometimes

true love takes a bit.Do youbelievethat?”I scrunch up my face and

think about it. “I guess Ialways thought true love

would be instant. An instantpull—like gravity—and youwouldbothjustknow.”“But sometimes the girl is

used to getting thingsinstantly. And probably theguy is too. And maybe theyneedtoslowdown.”“But I could get hit by a

carorkidnappedbyapsychotomorrowandneverknow.”“You don’t have to have

sextoknow.Sexisn'tlove.”“Maybenot.Butit’sabig,

importantpartofit.”“Justbecauseyouhavesex

doesn'tmeanyou'reinlove.”“I just want to be with a

guy who likes me. Whowon’thurtme.”“Saysthegirlwho’switha

guythathasalreadyhurther,morethanonce.”Thiscommentimmediately

pissesmeoff.I turnmy back on him. “I

gottago,Aiden.Seeyalater.”He grabs my shoulder.

“You’remadatmerightnowbecauseyouknowI’mright.”I setmy face in a passive,

disaffected look. “I’m notmadatyou. I justhave togogreet the prospectivestudents.”“Yeah,metoo.”

Now I’m standing in a

reception line, greetingprospective students as theyarrive, with Aiden standingnexttome.

Electricityisradiatingfromhisstupidbody.Younggirlsaregettingjust

as tongue-tied around him asIdo.Theycomeoverinlittlegroups, supposedly to say hito Ariela, Maggie, and me,but by the way they aregiggling, it’s obvious whotheywanttosee.The shirtless goalie from

thevideo.“Are you two going out?”

an adorable blonde girl

named Pressley asks Aiden,looking fromme to him andblushing.Thenshegoes,“Uh,I mean, like, I, uh, saw youstudying together in thelibrary in the, uh, video. Ican’twaittotakeFrench.It’ssucharomanticlanguage.”IlookatAiden,wondering

howhe’sgoingtoreply.Thisishis chance to tell someoneelsewhatIwanttohear.Thathe’ssecretlyinlovewithme.How we met. How it was

instant. How if she comeshere, it might happen to her.Herperfectfate.“We have French class

together,” he says with aradiant smile toward thegirl,which causes her to turn adeeper shade of red. “She’smytutor.”“Oh,” she manages to

reply. I can tell her dreamswere just crushed alongwithmine. She wants to hear thefairytale.Shewantstoknow

ifshecomeshere,she’llmeetanamazingboy.I decide to give her hope.

“I’vebeendatingareallyhotsenior.”Aiden starts to say

something, but he’sinterruptedbyaloudvoice.“Daddy’s home!” Braxton

bounds up to me, wraps hisarm around my neck, andgivesmeabigkissoncheek.“Didyoumissme?”I grin and kiss his cheek

back.“OfcourseIdid!”Iturntoward Aiden and the girl,who is still standing there.“Pressley, this is Braxton.He’s for sure attendingEastbrookenextfall.”Braxton gives her a subtle

once over and appears toapprove.Heremoveshisarmfrom my neck and wraps itaround hers. “Pressley, that’sareallyprettyname,”hesays.“Stickwithme,baby.I’vegotthisplacewired.”Hestartsto

lead her toward the smallauditorium for theirinformational meeting, whenI see Embry, the dark-hairedgirl he’s been crushing onfromhisschool,arrive.“Hey,Brax,wait,”Isay.IwalkuptoEmbry.Unlike

most of the girls who havearrived in packs, she isstanding confidently byherself. I can see why shedatesolderguys.Shedoesn’tlook like an eighth grader.

Long hair, slim, tight body,gorgeouseyes,andgreatteethinaprettysmile.“Hey, I’m Keatyn,” I tell

her, introducingmyself.“Areyouherealone?”“Yeah,” she says a little

self-consciously. “None ofmy friends want to go toboardingschool,butIthinkitlooks really fun. I loved thevideo.”“Thanks.We’ll get to talk

a bunch later. You’re

rooming with me and myfriend, Katie, but now youhave to get into the infomeeting.” I lead her towardBraxton. “Do you knowBraxton?Ireadthatyougotothe same school. And this isPressley. She’ll be roomingwithustoo.”Braxton looks a little

shocked. Probably becausehis arm is still wrappedaround the pretty blonde,Pressley. “Hey, Embry!” he

says. “We were just headedin.Wannajoin?”She smiles and seems

relievedtoseeafamiliarface.“Yeah, Braxton, that wouldbegreat.”Braxton doesn’t miss a

beat. He wraps his free armaround Embry and says,“We’re going to have somefun here, ladies.” Then heturns back and winks at me.“Keatyn, don’t be jealous.You’restillmyfavoritegirl.”

IlookoveratRiley,whoisshaking his head andlaughingathisbrother.Riley and Dallas start

discussing who were thehottestyounggirls.“They are all, like,

fourteen.Way too young foryouboth.”Riley goes, “Just checking

outthenewcropformylittlebro.”But I’m not paying

attention.

Because Chelsea, thecheerleader who is alwaysflirting with Aiden, is nowrunning her hand downAiden’sbuffbicep.I know I shouldn’t listen,

butIcan’thelpit.I’mstraining tohearevery

singleword.Damn Dallas is talking

waytooloud.Iwanttoshushhim,butIcan’t.“You’re no fun this year.

What’sthedeal?Wehadlots

of fun last year,” I hear hersay.Aiden doesn’t remove her

arm fromhis, but says, “I’vejust . . . and I’mnot . . .wedid...understand.”Sheapparentlydoesn’tlike

what she hears, because sheletsgoofhisarmandputsona pout. “Tonight. We’rehavingsomefun,andI’mnottakingnoforananswer.”Shewalks away slowly, shakinghercurvyass.

IcatchAidenstaringatit.Helooksatmeandsortof

shrugs, seemingly saying, Ican’t help it all the girls arein lovewithme. I’m a hottiegod.Getusedtoit.My phone buzzes with a

text.Braxton:Ineedaredhead

tocompletemytrio.

Howdoyousay

fuckoffinFrench?5pm

Dawsoncomestodinnerwithme,eventhoughhehastobein the locker room shortly toget ready for the footballgame tonight. All theprospective students have tosit together, sowe get to eat

alone.“Wow, Keatie,” he says,

looking at the newly Greekcafé.“Thislooksgreat.”“Yeah, the art students

worked really hard today. Ithinkitturnedoutprettycool.Hopefully the rest of theweekendgoeswell.”“It will. You helped plan

it,”hesays,leaningintogivemeasweetkiss.As we get in line, Dallas

walksuptomeandholdshis

closedfistoutinfrontofme.Likehewantsmetoopenmyhandsohecanputsomethinginit,orhewantsmetoguesswhat’sinit.“What?”Hebugshiseyesoutatme,

so I holdmy palm up to hishand.“I’m pretty sure these are

yours,”hegrins,anddropsanorange lace thong into myhand.“Where’dyoufindthese?”

“Ha! I knew they wereyours! Youwore themwhenwe were in the limo. Irecognized the little daisycharmonback.Youdon’tseethatveryoften.”“Yeah,wheredid you find

those?” Dawson asks with abiggrin.Icantellheistryingto think of where we mighthave lost them. Most likelythelacrossefield.“At the Cave,” Dallas

replies.

My eyes get big. “Oh,” Isay, looking totally guilty.“Uh,thanks.”Iquicklyshovethemintomybag.ThenIturnmyattentiontowardthefood.Dawson loves food. “Wow,dinnersmellsgreat.Yousureyou aren’t going to havesomething?”“No,”he says flatly,while

I grab a tray and pile itwithfood.I figure maybe if I get

enough food, Dawson won’t

ask me how my panties gotleftattheCave.And that appears like it

won’t be a problem, becauseDawson has gotten veryquiet.Hehasn’tsaidaword.Istartmunchingonagyro.

Try to feed him somehummus.Finally he says, “Are you

evengonnaattempttoexplainwhyyourpantieswereat theCave?”“We’ve always been

honest with each other,right?”“Yeah.”“Okay, I’m going to tell

youexactlywhathappened.”Henodsatmetogoon.“Last night after the JV

game, I met Aiden at theCave.”His eyes get big, and his

angerswells.“Let me finish before you

get all pissed, okay? Hewantedtoshowmethatthing

he did with his hands beforehe kicked the field goal lastnight.Ithadbeenraining,andI sat on a stump and myunderwearandmysweatsgotallsoaked.Aidenhadongymshortsunderhissweats,sohetookthemoffandletmewearthem.”“Howdoesathonggetwet

whenyousitdown?”“I don’t know. I sorta

leaned onto the stump and itgot wet. I was embarrassed.

Aiden turned around anddidn’teventrytolookwhenIchanged. Then it startedpouring, so hewrapped it allup in the sleeping bag hebroughttositon.Itmusthavefallenout.”Heshakeshishead likehe

doesn’tbelieveme.“That sounds like bullshit.

Let me guess, you justkissed?”“Yes,wedid.Oh, not like

that. Like we actually just

kissed.Andnotforverylong,becauseitstartedpouring.”“Uhhuh,sure. I’mdone. I

can’t do this anymore. Howdo you say fuck off inFrench?”Aiden who apparently has

beenstandingbehindussays,“Casse-toi. But she’s tellingyouthetruth.”“Yeah well, cassy-twa to

bothofyou,”hesays.Hegetsup, slams his chair into thetable, and stomps out of the

café.Aiden says, “Hell, if I

woulda known that wouldwork,Iwould’vestolensomeof your panties and hungtheminmyfootballlocker.”“It’s really not funny,” I

tellhim.“I’llsitandeatdinnerwith

you.”Riley wanders over with

Ariela on his arm. He looksreallyhappy,foraguywhoseneck is varying shades of

bruise.“What happened?” he

asks.Aidenlookslikehe’sgoing

to say something, but myeyesfillwithtears.“Igottago,”Itellthem.Tears are blurring my

vision as I leave the café. Ineed to sit down and gathermyself,soIgoto thenearestspot.As fatewould have it, it’s

thebenchwhereDawsonfirst

reallykissedme.I put my head down into

myhandsandcry.I don’t know what I’m

goingtodo.I feel the bench shift

slightly.Dawson puts his arm

aroundme, pullsme into hischest, and whispers, “I’msorry. I believe you. This isall my fault. If I would’vetoldWhitneyno,wewouldn’t

even be in this mess, wouldwe? You wouldn’t be datingAiden. We’d still be goingout,right?”“That’sright,”Isputterout

and then start bawling again.I’m bawling about all of it.Brooklyn. Him. Aiden. Him.Vincent. I just want to gohome.Dawson rubs my back

gently. “No relationship isperfect,Keatie.Whatmattersis if you still want to be

together when things getreallyhard.”I half laugh, half cry,

“That’stheproblem,Dawson.I like it when you get reallyhard.”“That’snotwhatImeant.”I look up at him. His

gorgeous, sweet brown eyes.Hisbeautifulhair.“Oh, wow. Um, here.” He

pulls his polo up off hisstomach and uses it to wipemy face. “Let’s go get you

cleanedup.Thenwe’regonnafigurethisallout,okay?”Inodokay.

We go to my room.

“Tonight isprettymuchoverforme,andit’snotevensix.”I sigh. “I’m not going to thegame.”“You’re not skipping.

You’llgetintroublewiththedance team. Just put somemakeup back on. It’ll befine.”

“I don’t want to go to themovieafterthegame.”“You have to go. You’re

mydate.”I throw my arms around

himandstartcryingagain.“Youcan’tgo to thegame

bawling.” He looksperplexed. I’m sure growingup with three brothers, he’snotusedtothis.“Okay, let’s talk first,

figure this out, get all thecryingout.”

“You’re supposed to be inthe locker room in tenminutes.”“I can be a little late. So,

youwanthonesty,right?”Ibitemylipandnod.“This is honesty. I love

you. I’ve told you that. Ontheotherhand,doIthinkyouare my one true love?” Hestops,rubshishandstogether,and shakes his head. “Ihonestly don’t know. Youhelpedme.Healedme,really.

I feel grateful. But do youremember that first nightwhenwetalkedattheCave?”“Yeah, you told me your

goal was to ask Whitney toHomecoming.”“And you told me that

Aiden spoke to you soul. Orkissedyoursoul.”Inod,remembering.“Keatie, I don’t know if

we’re soul mates. I don’teven know how you knowthat.Doyou?”

“I don't think I believe insoul mates or true loveanymore.”Hepullsmegentlyontohis

lap and snugglesme into hischest.“Yeah, you do. Under all

thatsexyisatrueromantic.”“I mean, I want that.

Doesn’t everyone? Thatspecial someone made justforthem.”“Ithinkeveryonehopesfor

it.Butthenwegetourhearts

broken and it makes uscynical.Afterwhathappenedwith Whitney, I felt prettycynical.”“Didyouthinkshewasthe

one? Like, did you want tomarryher?”“We used to talk about it

sometimes. She alwaysdescribedourfuturelife,butIcould never picture it. Ithought it was just becauseI’m a guy, but now I don’tthinkso.Ithinkitjustwasn’t

right.What do you thinkweshoulddo?”“Whatdoyouwanttodo?”He shakes his head.

“Honestly, I can't wait tograduateandgotocollege.”“Thatmakesmesad.”“Idon’tknowifwe’resoul

mates, Keatie, but we’regonna be friends for a verylong time. I wasn’t lyingwhen I said you’ve becomemy best friend. I’ll give upthe sex if I have to, but I

don’t want to give up thefriendship.”“Do you want to give up

thesex?”“Hellno.Doyou?”“Well, it complicates

things, and I do feel a littleguilty about it. Should wefeelguiltyaboutit?”“As long as we’re both

single, we have nothing tofeelguiltyabout.”“I don’t want to let you

go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,and there’s no one here Iwant to date. So, we’ll seehow it goes, and I’ll try mybestnot tobea jealous idiot.It helps knowing you’re notsleepingwithhim.”“I told him I wouldn’t

sleepwithanyoneelseuntilIknewforsureIwasinlove.”“I’malifelesson,huh?”I laugh in a sad way.

“Maybe. Dawson, I know Ihaveaprospective student to

attend to,but Idon’twant togo to the movie. I know weweresupposedtohaveadate.Will youbemad ifwedon’tgo?”“Hell, no. I hate that

movie.”Hegivesmeasweetkissonthecheekandglancesattheclock.“Shit.Igottagetgoing.”“Okay,” I say as hewalks

outthedoor.

Yougotlucky.6:12pm

I walk down to the fieldhouse, my emotionseverywhere.Part of me wants to run

away.Toforgetthisplace.Forget

thesepeople.But as I look out over the

campus, I realize that I don’t

want to leave this place. Orthese people. I don’twant torunaway frommyproblems.Iwanttostayhereandfigurethemout.And, maybe, hopefully,

figure myself out in theprocess.Iwhipopenthedoortothe

field house to find CooperSteelestandingintheentry.“What?”“Weneedtotalk,”hesays

as he pulls me in his office

and shuts his door.He dropsdown into the chair behindhis desk, rubs the stubble onhis head, and says, “Thisplace is crazy. I’m supposedtobeguardingyou.HowamIsupposedtowatchoutforyouwhen I’m constantly busy?Andhowdid I suddenly findmyselfinchargeofaneventIdidn’tevenplan?”I can’t help but smirk.

“Whitney and Peyton are onthe Social Committee that

planned this weekend. Youneedtobecareful.Theybothwantyou.”“I know they want me.

They’vealreadygotmedoingallthisstuff.”“Uh, no.That’s just to get

close to you. I mean theywantyou.Sexually.”“Sexually?They’reinhigh

school?”“Yeah, but they’re both

legal and in some sort ofcompetition to see who can

sleepwithyoufirst.”“This is my job. I’m not

going to screw it up bysleeping with some highschool girl. They’re both inmy Health class too. It’sweird talking about healthand human body issues togirlswhose pants Iwould’vebeen trying to get into just afew years ago. Now I’msupposed to teachabstinence.”I laugh. “That’s pretty

funny. And I’m sorry ifyou’reoverwhelmedwithhotgirls tryingtohitonyou,buthave you had a chance tolearn the school? Itsweaknesses in security?Anythingproductive?”“I’ve already discovered

the most importantweakness.”“Really,what’sthat?”“You.”“Me?Whatdoyoumean?”“Garrettwantedmehereso

that you’d have someoneclose,butIcan’tbewithyouallthetime.IfVincentshowsup,you’vegottobeready.”“I am ready. I mean, I’ve

alwaysgottenawaybefore.”He looks at me very

seriously. “I don’t want totake away your confidence,butI’vestudiedyourfileandlistened to your side of thestory. You got lucky. Plainand simple. You gotespecially lucky in Miami.

You’ve been in situationswhere you’ve been able torun.Whatwillyoudo ifyoucan’trun?”My hands start to shake

and I feel like I’m going tocry.Whatishetalkingabout?That’s what Garrett told metodo.Torun.“Um,I’mnotsure,butI’m

going tobe late fordance. Ifwe’re not in the locker roomontime,wegetintrouble.”“You’re avoiding the

question.Go todance.Thinkabout it. We’ll discuss youranswer, and my plan,tomorrow.”AsIflyoutofhisoffice,I

collidewithWhitney.“Watchwhereyou’regoing,”shesayssnottily.“I’msorry.Ihavetogetto

dance.”“Why were you in Mr.

Steele’soffice?”“Uh, he just asked me

some questions about

tomorrow’scompetition.”She raises one eyebrow at

me. “For future reference,that’smyjob.”I’m almost late for dance,

but I need a minute tobreathe.Iwalkoutside toget some

air just as the entire footballteambarrelsoutthedoorandheadsdowntothefield.I putmy head down, push

my back up against the

building,andtrytoblendintothe brick wall. Fortunately,noonenoticesme.ExceptforAiden.He turnsaround,holdsmy

eyeswiththattractorbeamofhis, but follows the team tothefield.Oncethey’reoutofsight,I

allow myself to close myeyes.Irunthroughthescenarios.

Let my mind go to all thosescarywhat-ifplaces.

What would I do if Icouldn’trun?IfIcouldn’tgetaway?I’d have to go with him.

Figure out how to get awaylater.Trickhim.But thetruth is, I’mnotas

smart as him. Or as sick.Whatever.I’ll be okay. I’ll figure it

out. Ihavea lot Iwant todowithmylife.Maybethat’spartofloving

myself.KnowingwhatIwant

todowithmylife.Havingthecouragetogoforitnomatterwhat. To have that courageeven when someone crazylikeVincentisafterme.I feel a forehead lean

against mine. “I’m sorry forwhat I said about the pantiesin my locker. It was a badjoke,”Aidensays.I reachout suddenly,wrap

my arms around him, andburymyheadinhisshoulder.Hedoesn’thesitateforevena

second.Heimmediatelyhugsmetightlyback.“Tell me what happened,”

hesayssoftly.“You’re going to get in

trouble.”“I told Coach I forgot my

lucky charm and had to gobackandgetit.”“You have a lucky

charm?”“Yeah.You.Tellme.”“It’s been a week since

Dawson and I broke up. I’ve

been an emotional mess.Tonight, he just told mesomething that I knew inmyheartbutreallydidn’twanttohear.”“Whatwasthat?”I shake my head. “I don’t

want to talk about it, Aiden.Um,IknowI’montheSocialCommitteeandI’msupposedto help sell popcorn beforethemovie,butI’mnotgoing.Turns out Dawson didn’twanttogoanyway.”

“You’vebeencrying.”Inod.“Tell you what. I’ll take

care of the popcorn. You gowithyourfriends.”“Whatdoyoumean?”“Gotothemoviewithyour

girlfriends. You’ll have fun.And don’t you have twoprospectivestudentsspendingthenightinyourroom?”“Yeah.”“Show them how much

youloveEastbrooke.”

Ismileathim.Because he’s one of the

biggest reasons Idecidednottorunaway.He gives me a sweet kiss

on the cheek and says,“Everything will be okay. Ipromise.”And for some reason, I

believehim.

Theperfect

ending.2am

Pressley and Embry havefinally stopped giggling andareasleep.Their enthusiasm is

contagiousand Ihada reallyfun time too. I’mgladAidentalked me into going. It wasfun to sing alongwithKatie,Maggie, and Peyton. It was

fun watching Maggie andJake flirt.And itwas flat-outfunnytowatchRileydraghisfurry rug into the auditoriumforhimandArielatositon.Ihadfun.But,yet,Ididn’t.I kinda hoped that when

Aiden suggested going withmygirlfriendsitwasbecausehewantedtositwithme.Buthedidn’t.Instead, he spent the night

surrounded by cheerleaders.

One of whom was Chelsea,thegirlwhowasn’ttakingnoforananswertonight.Maybethat’swhyhebarelyspoketomeandwhyhehasn’t textedme.ButIhavebiggerproblems

thanthat.SoIgetontheinternetand

lookupproblemsolving.Hoping it will give me an

idea of what to tell Coopertomorrow.WhatIfind,though,makes

methinkofsomeoneelse.The article I’m reading

says that you should alwaystry to figure out the root, orcause,ofyourproblem.Iusemyphone to lightup

the picture of Brooklyn thenslowlypushmycovers back,slide my feet into a pair ofslippers, carefully step overthe girls, shut the doorquietly, and go into thestairwell.I think it’s time to talk to

myroot.I pull up his number as a

million truths go throughmyhead. Truths that I haven’twanted to face. Because thatwould mean taking some oftheblame.I blamed him for

everything that went wrong.Got mad because I didn’tthinkhelovedallofme,yetIforced him to do things thatweren’t him. And when hegotupsetaboutit,Iactedlike

it was his fault. I wanted tochangehimwhenIshould’vejustlovedhim.AndIdidloveallofhim.Ilovedthewayhemademefeel.Oursummeroflovewas thebest timeofmylife.Thingsweresoeasywithhim. I was so incrediblyhappy.Itwasn’tuntilwegottothe

city and I pushed himout ofhis comfort zone that westarted to fight. That hestarted to push back. I slide

the waistband of my shortsdownandstareatmytattoo.Ican picture him,walking outof the water, his blue eyesshiningasbrightastheocean,aneasysmileonhisface,hisbeautiful bronzed skin, hisshaggyhair.He’salwaysknownexactly

whoheis.Iwastheconfusedone.He tried to help me.

Encouraged me to show theworldthegirlheloved.

ThegirlIwantedtobe.I get brave and press his

number.He answers on the fourth

ring. “Keats! Hey, how areyou?”He sounds likeweareold friends. Not people whofought the last time theytalked.“Uh, okay. How are you?

Youfindyourbalanceyet?”“No. I haven’t. I’ve been

wantingtocallyou.”“Butyouhaven’t.”

“I don’t want to hurt youanymore.”“Igetnowwhyyouneeded

metoforgiveyou.”“Youdo?”“Yeah, you figured out it

wastherootofyourproblem.I just figured out itmight bethe root of my problem hereaswell.”“What’s your problem

there?”“Imetaguy.”“I’m not sure I want to

hearaboutthis.”“I’m not sure I wanted to

watch you make out with agirl and then stand outside acabanawhileyouscrewedhereither.”“Look, before we go any

further,IneedtoexplainandIoweyouanapology.”“Anapology?Really?”“Yes,Keats. I oweyouan

apology. I was hurt. You'dbeen to school for barely aweek and you already had a

newguy?DidImeannothingtoyou?Thegirlinthecabanawas my childish way ofgetting back at you. Do youstillloveme,Keats?”Iwanttosayyes.Iwantto

be swept awaybyemotion. Iwant to fly straight towherever he is and have anamazing reunion. Write anamazing ending to our lovestory.“Ioweyouanapologytoo,

B. Actually, I owe you a lot

of them. I’m sorry I tried tochange you. You’ve alwaysknown exactly who you are.It’spartofwhat I loveaboutyou. I’m sorry I was soconfusedaboutwhoIwantedto be. I know it’s stupid, butlabeling our relationshipwhen we got back fromEuropewas important tome.Everyonewasaskingme.ThetruthisIwasproudofyou.Iwantedtobeabletointroduceyou as my boyfriend. I

wantedtotelltheworldaboutour amazing summer. Iwantedyouwithme.Butthenyou started saying stuff thatmade me think you didn’tcare.”“It’s not that I didn’t. It’s

that I knew I was leaving. Icouldn’t expect you to waitforme, so Iwas trying tobemature about it all. What Iwanted to dowas throw youinmybackpackandtakeyouwithme.IfallIhadinmylife

wasyou,myboard,andsomewaves,I’dalwaysbehappy.”“You didn’t want to come

tomybirthdayparty.”“ButIdid.”“Andyouwereajerk.”“And you kissed another

guy.”“You kissed a girl in your

tentbeforeyounoticedme.”“Shekissedme.”“Youdidn’tstopher.”“I didn’t. But I should’ve

stopped you from running

away. Instead, I just stoodthere, realizing how stupid Iwas. How immature. I’msorry I hurt you, Keats. ThelastthingIeverwanttodoishurtyou.”“I’m sorry too. We both

made quite a few mistakes.AndI’vebeenreactingbadlytothem.”“Howso?”“Well, when you left me

for camping, I lost myvirginity to Cush.When you

did the cabana girl, I sleptwithsomeoneelse.”“Youwerehurt.”“Yeah,IwasandI’vebeen

blamingyou.ButI’mtheoneresponsible formy actions. Ishouldhavetrustedyou.Youhave to trust the people thatyoulove.”“Ishould’vehadmorefaith

in our relationship, too. Ithought if I left, we’d fallapart. The thought of thathurt. I’m sorry I pushed you

away. And then everythinghappenedsofast.Myleaving.Your leaving.Notbeingabletoseeeachother.”“Idon'tknowifI'lleverget

my lifeback. Idon'tknow ifwe'llevergetanotherchance,or if either one of us wouldwantitifwedid.ButIknowImissyou.Yougavemealotofgoodadvice.Youmademelook atmyself. I sucked. I'mtrying to be a better personhere.AndI'mmakingfriends.

I'm more myself than I’veever been. But there’s oneproblem.”“What’sthat?”“I’mfinallyabletobeme.

I’m everything I wanted tobe. But I’m still like a fakePrada bag because I’m lyingtoeveryone.”“Meetme.”“Meetyou?”“Yeah. Like, anytime.

Anywhere. I’ll miss atournament.Say I'msickand

at my hotel resting. But I'llreally fly somewhere andmeetyou.Noonewillknow.Please. Ineed toholdyou inmy arms. I need to feel youagain. I need to tell you I'msorryinperson,soyouknowI mean it. I kiss my tattooevery time I go out to surf.It’ssortofmywayoffeelinglike you’re here with me.Likeyoushouldbe.”“Vincent got a tattoo like

ours. It’s on his wrist in the

exactspotasyours.”“That’ssick.”“Herubbeditonmine.Got

off on it. It was reallydisgusting.”“Don’tlethimruinwhatit

meanstous.Don’t.”“I’m trying not to. What

does it mean to us? Or, Imean, what does it mean toyou,like,now?”“Iwaslookingatittonight,

actually, and thinking itsymbolizes hope. Hope that

fate will bring us backtogether.But I just decided Ichangedmymindabout fate.Fatesucksass.Idon’twanttowait. So what do you say?About seeing me? Are youfreeanytimesoon?”“I tried out for the school

playandgotapart.Wehaverehearsal every day for thenext few weeks until it’sover.”“Really? You never told

me you wanted to act. But

you’d be great at it.Remember, I told you that.That’s why I thought youdidn’tknowwhotherealyouwas. Because you couldeffortlessly play any role.You’ll be a great actress ifyouwanttobe.”“I’d like tobe.But I can’t

really do it ifVincent is stillin the picture. You know, Isee you every day on mywall.”“And Ihave thepictureof

us on the beach in Biarritzwith me always. The one ofus kissing as the sun rises.EverytimeIgetupearlyandsurf,Ithinkofyou.Always.Iloveyou,Keats.”I feel like I should say it

back,butIcan’t.“Thanks,”Isayawkwardly.“Itsoundshollow, Iknow.

That's why we need to seeeachother again. Imissyou,Keats.”“Do you like the surf

tour?”“Yes. I'm learning a lot

aboutmyself. Iwasa jerk toyou in Europe. About yourclothes. Don't laugh—actually, go ahead and laugh—Iboughtniceluggage.”I do laugh. “Seriously?

Why?”“Becauseyouwereright. I

get better service that way,andIlikeit.”“Maybe there's hope for

youyet.”

“I’mgladwe talked thingsout.We’lltalksoon,okay?”“Deal.”“AndKeats?”“Yeah?”“Promisemethatwhenthis

is over, I’ll get anotherchance.”“I promise, B,” I say,

mostly because I refuse togiveupthedreamthatI’llgetthe perfect ending to myscript.Withtheboywhowasoriginallycastineveryoneof

mylovestories.

Saturday,October22ndThebestofall

ofyou.8am

While I’m at rehearsal thatliterallystartedbeforethesuncameup,Igetasurprisetext.Camden:Callme.

I’mnotsurewhyhe’dwant

me to call him, but mycuriositygets thebest ofme,soduringabreak,Ido.“Hey,”hesays.“Um, hi. What do you

want?”He chuckles. “The list is

long. But let’s start with mybrother.”“Dawson?”“Sure. Let’s start there. I

hear you’re dating him andAiden.”“Uh,kinda.”“I heard about the panties.

Thathebelievesyou.ButI’mnotsureheshould.”“No offense, but I don’t

carewhatyou think.Dawsonand I have always beenhonest with each other. Last

night, hewas brutally honestwithme.”“He wants to get back

togetherwithyou?”“He justwants tograduate

andgotocollege.”“Ijustdon’twanthimwith

Whitney.Wecan’tlethergetherclawsbackinhim.”“I know what really

happenedwithyoutwo.Howyou slept with her anddumpedher.Howshe settledforyourbrother.Howhehas

noideayouwereherfirst.”The line goes completely

silent. I can’t even hear himbreathe. I think I lost theconnectionuntilhesucksinabreath and says, “You knewallthat,butdidn’ttellhimthetruthwhenshetextedhim?”“Icouldn’t.Ididn’twantto

hurt him.Do you know howbadly that would’ve hurthim?”“Most girls would have

toldhimtokeephim.”

“I’mnotmostgirls.”“I’m starting to realize

that.” He pauses for amoment. “It’smore than thatthough. While they weredating, and even now, shetexts me. Almost stalks me.Sends me naked pictures.TellsmewhatI’mmissing.”“Why didn’t you tell

Dawson? He’s your brother.How could you let him keepdatingher?”“I wanted to tell him so

manytimes.ButIdidn’twantto hurt him either. I kepthoping theywould break up.That it wouldn’t last. Butthen, the longer I didn’t tellhim, the worse it would’vebeen.Ikeptafilethough.”“Afile?”“Yeah. All her texts.

Nakedpictures.Stuffshesaidabouthim.”“Why?”“Incaseheeverwanted to

marryher,Iwasgoingtotell

himthetruth.Ineededproof.Here, I just sent you anexample.”“Anexample!Idon’twant

toseeWhitneynaked!”“Just look at it. You need

to know what you’re upagainst.”“I’m not up against her. I

havenofightwithher.”“She sent me this last

night.”Whitney: You may not

havebeenjealousofDawson,but I don’t care anymore.There’sahotnew teacheratschool. Peyton thinks she’sgoing to get him, but shecan’thaveeverything.Iwon’tlet her. And he’s so muchmoreofaman thanyouare.This is what you missed outon.ThisiswhereI’mgoingtodohim.Following is a photo of

Whitney,mostlynaked,lying

on Cooper Steele’s newdesk.“What the hell? How did

shegetinhisoffice?”“I don’t know, but she’s

losing it. She andPeyton areinsomekindofwar.”“Peyton is tired of her

shit.”“I’msure she is.She’sput

up with it for too long, butI’mworriedabouther.”“Iheardyourbreakupwas

reallybad.”

“Yeah, I was young anddumb.Butwe’refriendsnow.That’swhyI’mworried.”“Haveyoutoldherthis?”“Of course. She won’t

listen. She has some plan.Thinksshe’sgoingtodestroyWhitneyandwinsomestupidcontest in the process. Whatshe doesn’t get is that shewon’t.Whitney is a devious,schemingbitch,andPeytonisno match for her. She’s toonice.”

“So, I’m supposed to keepDawson away fromWhitneyand keep Whitney fromdestroying Peyton. Anythingelse I can do for you?” Ilaugh.“Actually, yes. I also hear

you’reBraxton’sdate tonightfor a party after curfew.Don’tget theboykickedoutbeforeheevenstarts.”“That’s exactly why he’s

mydate.I’mgoingtokeepaneye on him. You know, he

would’ve snuck out anyway.Hewantstobejustlikeyou.”“I’mnotsurethat’sagood

thing.”“Whydoyousaythat?”“Probablybecausewanting

tobelikemealreadygotonebrotherkickedoutofschool.”“Maybeyoushouldreform

your bad boy ways. Set abetterexample.”He laughs. “Ha! I don’t

thinkso.NotuntilIfindagirlworthy of that. Let’s talk

aboutRiley.”“When did I become the

Johnsonbrothers’keeper?”“I’m not sure, but Riley

lovesyou.”“I loveRileytoo.He’smy

bestfriend.IgotreallydrunkafterDawsonandIbrokeup.He took care of me. I don’tremember much, but I thinkthat’s because I knew I wassafewithhim.”“You may be the only

drunk girl safe with Riley,”

he laughs. “He’s prettyprotectiveofyou.”“Iknow.It’ssweet.”“Ithinkhehasacrush.”“Naw. He knows I crush

onhisbrother.”“Me?”“Nope, Braxton. He’s the

best of all of you. He justdoesn’tknowityet.”“Keatyn, if you need

anything—seriously, ifthere’sanythingIcaneverdoforyou—letmeknow.”

“Thanks,Cam.Iappreciatethat.”I decide to text Aiden.

We’re supposed to hang outtoday, and I need to find outif he still wants to. I’m alsodyingtoknowifhewaswithChelsealastnight.Me:Thanksfortheadvice

lastnight. Iwent to thesing-a-long with my friends andhadfun.

Hottie God: I’m glad. It

wasn’taslameasIthoughtitwouldbe.Wehadfuntoo.Me:Yeah,Isupposewhen

you’re surrounded bycheerleaders it’s hard not tohavefun.Hottie God: You’re mine

today,still,right?Me:Iguess.

Hottie God: I need some

lucktowinthecompetition.Ialso need a partner for thelawngames.Youanygoodatthewheelbarrowrace?Me:Probablynotasgood

asacheerleader.HottieGod:Ididn’taska

cheerleader. I asked you.Meetmeoutsideyourdormateleven.

Now, I’m lazily sprawled

out on my stomach acrossDallas’ bed. He’s sitting onthe floor in front ofme, andI’m running my handsthroughhishair,givinghimascalpmassage.The way he’s groaning,

you’d think Iwasmassagingsomethingelse.Riley barrels through the

door, laden with bags and a

trayofcoffeedrinks.Itsmellswonderful, especially sinceall the boys’ rooms seem tosmell like an oddlycompelling combination ofcologneanddirtysocks.“I’m next in the massage

chair,” he says as he setsdownthetray.“I want a massage too,” I

say.Riley raises his eyebrows

atme.“Yeah, that’swhatwewant to hear about. Who’s

beenmassagingyou?”I throw a napkin at him,

but it falls shamefully to thefloor in front of him. Heboundsacross thebedon topofme and starts ticklingme.Holding my arms down,tickling my sides. I’mlaughingandscreamingatthesametime.“Stop,stop.Igiveup.”“If only Ariela were that

easy,” he comments as herollsoffme.

Dallaslaughs.“So,Dallas apparently has

a secret hot date tonight andeveryone knows who you’redating, seeingas it’s tattooedacrossyourchest.”“They’re all gone, but I’m

thinkingaboutaskingherout.Whatdoyouthink?”Dallas says, “She’s cute.

Seemstobeprettyintoyou.Imean, except for the wholenot-getting-any thing. But ifyou’re going to keep dating

her, you might as well.Maybe that will open thegates.”I swatDallas’ head. “Stop

that.Theydon’tneedtohavesex. And, Riley, I think youshould ask her out. Are yougoing to do anythingspecial?”“Well, I’m competing in

the Gods of Olympuscompetition. I’ll be shirtlessallday.”Heflexesabicepatus.“She’llbeimpressed.”

I laugh at his confidence.“Yes, she will be impressed.But since her lips havealready been all over yourchest,Ithinkyoumightneedsomethingmore.”Riley lowers his head

slightly. “She kinda has athingforHelloKitty,soIgother something to give to herwhenIask.”“Really? Oh my gosh! I

loveHelloKitty too!What’dyouget?”

“Don’t laugh,” he says, ashe pulls a Swarovski crystalbox out of his drawer andopensitup.Inside is an adorable hot

pink domed ring with largerandom crystals on it and aHelloKittyface.“Oh. My. Gosh! Why

haven’t I seen thisbefore?! Ilove it. Iwant it. She’ll loveit! She’s going to go crazywithlovingit.”Riley smiles probably the

biggest smile I’ve ever seenfrom him. “You really thinkshe’lllikeit?”“Yeah,Riley,Ido.Youdid

reallygood.”“Sowhataboutyou,baby?

YouintomybrotherorAidentoday?”“Both,” Dallas replies for

me.“How’sthatworkingout?”IeyeDallas.Hegivesmeabigeyeroll

back. “I’m sorry about the

panties.”“Whatpanties?WhatdidI

miss?”Rileyasks.Dallas reiterates what

happened last night in thecafé.“Busted,”Rileysayswitha

laugh.“Nothing happened with

Aiden at the Cave. I mean,we kissed.” I roll my eyes.“Still no tongue. Dawsondidn’tbelievemeatfirst,butwe talked and we’re good.

Althoughhealsotoldmethathe can’t wait to go tocollege.”“Everyonecan’twaittogo

tocollege,”Rileysays.“Hemeantwithoutme.”“So you’re going to like

Aiden?”I sigh. “I’m pretty sure he

hooked up with Chelsea lastnight.Iheardhertellhimthatshe wasn’t taking no for ananswer.”“That doesn’t mean he

did,” Riley says. “MosteveryoneknowsIlikeAriela,but there are still plenty ofgirls that tellmewe’regoingtohookup.”“Doyouwantto?”“No. I forward them to

Dallas.”“And I hook up with

them,” Dallas says. “It’sbrilliant.And...Ihappentoknow thatAidendidn’t hookupwithChelsealastnight.”“How could you know

that?”Dallas smiles broadly.

“BecauseIdid.”I can’t help it. My heart

soars. “Do you know why?DidAidenturnherdown?”“Don’t know. Don’t care.

Wehadfun.Shehasthemostperfect body. As a matter offact, we’re hanging outtoday.”“So, Dallas, you’re

supposed to be practicallypsychic, what’s gonna

happen?”“It doesn’t really matter,”

Riley says,wrappinghisarmaround me. “As long as westayclose.Thethreeofus.”Ithinkhavinggoodfriends

in your life is an importantpieceoflovingyourself.

Itshouldbeillegal.

11am“Look at you in your brightgold Nikes,” I say to Aidenwhen Iwalkoutofmydormtomeethim.“Thanks. I had them sent

fromhome.They’resortofacollector’s edition. And lookat you. Gold shorts, goldgladiatorsandals.”Iholdup thegoldbracelet

withlovenoteswrittenacross

it.“And love on your arm,”

he says as he lays his handacross my chest. “Hopefully,eventually, the love will behereandnotonyourarm.”Writeloveonyourheart.Yes. I’m swooning. And I

reallywanttotellhimitsortaalready is written on myheart.It’s like a song you’ve

always known the words to.Alullabyyou’llneverforget.

But I don’t want to soundlike I have a crushon a lovegod.He looks me over again,

takinginmyadorableoutfit.He looks puzzled then

hooksmyhairbehindmyear.“You’re wearing just onefeatherearring,huh?”I laugh. “Well, I used to

havetwobutnowIonlyhaveone.”He reaches in his pocket

andpullsoutabox.“I found

these.Thoughtyoumightlikethem.” He opens the lid andnestled in cotton are goldenfeatherearrings.“They’re so pretty! Did

you get these fromBarneys?I’veseenthemthere.”He nods. “Real swan

feathersdippedingold.MadeinParis.”“They’re beautiful, Aiden.

Really. But they wereexpensive.Ican’t...”Heinterruptsme.“They’re

abribe.”“Abribe?”“Yes, I’m hoping I can

exchange these for the otherfeather.”Igulp.“Why?”“Let’sjustsayI’mgoingto

beneedingthemboth.”“Oh,” I say, taking in his

fiery eyes and imagingfeathers all over my nakedbody. “Yourmomwas right.You’re impossible to say noto.”

WhatIsayhangsthere.Aidenlickshislips.God,Iwantthattongue.Really, he shouldn’t be

allowed to lick his lips. Itshouldbeillegal.Like a bait and switch

advertisement. They promiseyou everything but don’tfollow through. If he’s notgonnause it, he shouldn’t beallowedtoshowit.“The answer is yes. You

haveadeal,”Iagree.Whole-

freaking-heartedly.“There’s more,” he says.

“Theweekend after theplay,you’re going to take me toyourloft.Imean,youalreadyinvitedme.”“Youinvitedyourself.”“Dowehaveadeal?”Isquintmyeyesathim.“I

haveonestipulation.”“Noway.It’sbeyondafair

trade.”“Then I’m keeping my

feather.And it’snot likeyou

can’t go buy your own.Featherearringsarecheap.”“I’ve looked online and

can’tfindonetomatch.”“I have one stipulation or

nodeal.Thefeathercanonlybeusedonme.”“Hmm. I can probably

agree to that. But what if Iwanted toshare?Onefeatherforeachofus.”Myeyesgetbigimagining

thefeathertouchingAideninplacesI’mdyingtosee.

“Uh,yeah,I,um,supposeIcould agree to that,” I say,fumbling through the wordsbreathlessly as I put on mynewfeatherearrings.He takes my hand and

says, “Let’s go kick somebuttinthefieldgames.”First, we compete in the

wheelbarrow race with medoing the handstand part.Turns out, I’m not that goodwithmyhands.Andalthough

I can dance, I failed atgymnastics as a child. I’mpretty sure it was anembarrassingmoment formyparentswhentheteachertoldthem I should be in danceinstead. Something abouthavingtheattentionspanofagnat.Of course, who wins?

ChelseaandDallas.IsitbadIhateher?Idon’t

even know her and I hateher.

And my competitive spirithas gotten the best of me. Iwanttowin.IneedforAidenandItowin.“You have good hands,

right?”IaskAiden.“Uh,yeah,Iguess.”“So you be on the ground

this time and I’ll hold yourlegs. I’m strong.Canyou doahandstand?”Instead of answering, he

drops to the ground, throwshis legs into theair,andthen

walksaroundonhishands.“Ihateyou.”He flips back upright and

pullsme intohis arms. “Yousureaboutthat?”“Actually,yes.But Idon’t

care. I just want to beatDallasthisnextround.”Aiden glances over at

Dallas and Chelsea. Hercurvy body is leaned tightlyagainsthisand she’s rubbinghisarmthesamewayshedidAiden’syesterday.

Yes, it’s official. I dohateher.“Do you want to beat

Dallas or Chelsea?” Aidenaskswithasmirk.“I want to beat everyone.

Solet’sseeifthiswillwork.”Heputshishandsonto the

groundas Igrabhis legsandpull them up to my sides.He’sheavier thanIexpected,butIsay,“Go.”Wemovequicklyforabout

ten steps and then his leg

starts to fall out of my grip.WhenItrytofixit,Idroptheother leg and he goes down,but deftly flips himself overandpullsmeontopofhimintheprocess.Ican’thelpbutlaugh.“We

suck. I’m better at croquet.Weshouldachosenthat.”“Idon’tcareifwesuck.I’d

playanythingwithyou.”“Maybe I wanna play a

kissinggame.”“Like I said, anything,”he

says as he kisses me. It’s apowerful lips-touchingkiss. Ikeep thinking the more I’maround him, the more I kisshim, the less power his lipswill have on me. But theoppositeseemstobetrue.Mykissesseemtobemakinghimstronger. The more my lipstouch his, themore powerfulthekissesbecome.Or, maybe, the more

meaningful.He stares intomyeyes for

afewsecondsbeforeheflipsme over, lies on top of me,and kisses me again. I getbraveandletmytonguegrazethe outside of his lips. Hislips stay soft but his mouthstaysclosed. I’m starting to think his

tongue is cursed orsomething. Like Medusa. Ifheusesitonme,Imightturntostone.Wecompeteinafewmore

games, lose badly, chat withsome perspective students,and then I take him to getchecked in for today’s bigevent.TheGodsofOlympuscompetition.Whitney is sitting at the

check-in table with CooperSteele. She checks Aiden’sname off a list, then handshim his wardrobe. A teenypair of white shorts, a goldbraided rope, and a greenlaurelwreath.

Aiden holds the shorts up.“Are you serious? No wayI’mwearingthese.”Whitneygrabsthemoutof

his hands. “Then you won’tbecompeting.”He grabs them back from

her.Igiveherathumbsupand

aswe’rewalkingawayIsay,“You’re brilliant,” whichcauses her to give me thebiggest smile she’s everdirectedmyway.

SheleansacrossCoopertohigh five me, her boobslanding directly in his face.“Social Committee nowofficially rocks. I’ve beentelling Mr. Steele here howhe needs to wear one.” Heflinches as she runs a handacrosshisshoulder.“He’dputthese boys to shame. Butdon’tworry. I’ll have him inone soon.” She gives me asmirk and says, “Or maybehe’dpreferitwaslater.”

“I don’t think any of thefacultywillbewearingthem,MissClarke,”Cooperreplies.Aiden is still looking at

what he’s supposed to wearandmuttering. “Howdid sheevergetthisapproved?”“Idon’tknow.Butshegot

onethingwrong.”“Yeah, half my shorts are

missing.”“No.” I grab the laurel

wreathfromhishand,placeiton his head, and study him.

“Definitelywrong.Comeon.Youcan’tcompetelikethis.”Idraghimintothebackof

the auditorium where all thestage supplies are kept andfind somegold spraypaint. Igrabsomenewspaperandlayhiswreathonit.WhenIfinishpaintingit,I

stand back up and let it dry.Aiden puts his big hand onmy waist, and one of hisfingers somehow ends uptouching the skin under my

shirt.It’s justonefinger.Totally

unplanned. Just one fingertouching my bare skin thatcausesmystomachtoflip.“So,whygold?”“Do you remember that

time we went for ice creamand I tried to tell you mydream? About the guy Imarried and we were—youknow—consummating thingswhen he lifted the veil and Isawhisface.”

“Yeah,” he says, grindinghisteethtogether.“Itwasyou.Andyouwere

wearing a gold laurel wreathon your head. That’s why ithastobegold.”Aiden grins. “Wait? You

were dating Dawson.Reliving something the twoof you had done and youthoughtitwashimbutitwasme?”“Right. I didn't knowwho

itwasthatIwasmarrying.”

“Whydidn't you tellme itwasme?”“Because you drove off

like a maniac and wouldn'ttalk to me. I even asked ifyouwanted toknowandyouwere like I decided I don'tcare.”“So you've been dreaming

aboutmarryingme?”“Not on purpose. I just

thought it was funny thatsomething you said affectedmy dream like that. Step

behind the screen and putyourcostumeon.”“No freaking way I’m

wearingthis.”“Whitney will have you

disqualified.”“Idon’t think Iwant tobe

agodanymore.”“Ifyouchange,I’lltellyou

alittlesecret.”“Fine.”Hegoesbehindthescreen,

changes, and then walks outintheskimpycostume.

“Wow.” And wow is anunderstatement.Helookslikearealgod.Hisskinlookstan,his muscles tight. He shouldbe shirtless all the time. Iplace the golden laurel leafwreath on his head. “That’sperfect.Goodlucktoday.”He pulls me close to his

mostly naked body and says,“IsDawsoncompeting?”“No,hesaiditwaslame.”“So you’ll be cheering for

me?”

“Well, you, Jake, andRiley,forsure.”He puts his lips to my

neck. “Who do you want towin?”“You.”He smiles at me. “Good

answer.”“Youbettergetgoing.You

don’twanttobelateforyourfirstrace.”“You didn’t tell me the

secret.”“When I first met you,

before I knew your name, Ihadanicknameforyou.”He smirks. “Oh, really?

Whatwasit?”“I’m not telling. That was

the secret. I had a nicknameforyou.”He does that thing. That

thingwherehislipsgrazemyneck.“Iwanttoknow.”“Stoptalkingonmyneck.I

can’tthink.”“I like when you can’t

think,” he replies, his lipsstayingput.“Tellme.”I want to pull away, but I

can’t.“TheGodofallHotties.”I feel a smile form onmy

neck. He doesn’t move.Instead, those amazing lipskissmy neck hard.He suckshisway up to that spot rightunderneath my ear.Something about that spotmakesme squirm. In a goodway. His lips continue to

move across my cheek andthentomywaitinglips.

Ismellcottoncandy.2pm

All of the Gods of Olympuscompetitors are on stagegetting introduced byWhitney. Peyton tried to get

metogouptherewith them,but Iwanted tobeable tositwithEmbryandthegirls.Peyton announces, “It’s

said that the Olympics werestarted to entertain thenewborn Zeus. They hadwrestling, jumping, andrunning competitions. Ourcontestantswill do the same.They will all compete in the100-yard dash and a teamrelay. Points will be talliedandthefieldwillbenarrowed

byhalfforthesecondround.”“The second round is the

jumping competition.Potential Gods will competein the long jumpand the100meter hurdles,” Whitneycontinues. “After that round,points will be tallied by ournew teacher, Mr. CooperSteele.” She puts on a biggrin and claps for Cooper.Cooperflasheshisdimplesinawaythatdoesn’tlookfake.Peyton finishes for her.

“And the fieldwill be cut inhalf again. Then we’ll moveinto the gym for the finalwrestlingmatches.Everyone,be sure to get your goodiebag. In it you will findtrinkets for luck and goldencoins that you canuse to beton who you think willprevail.”Shepointstoatablesetupinthecorner.“Sharkisouroddsmakerandbet taker.You could win an iPad, adress down day for your

dorm,pizzaparties,andothergreatprizes.”Whitney clears her voice.

“The competitors arewarming up now. Place yourbets and get some snacks.The competition officiallybegins at two-thirty. Goodlucktoallthecontestants.Welook forward to feasting inyourhonortonight!”Braxton and Dawson

wanderup.Braxton throws his arm

around my shoulder. “Don’tcare about the competition.Oddsarethatwe’regettingitontonight.”Dawson punches him in

the shoulder. Hard. Braxremoveshishandandrubshisshoulder.“Oww.”“Pussy,”Dawsonsayswith

a grin aswraps his own armaround my waist andwhispers in my ear.“Speakingofthat...”“Dawson!You’rebad.”

“Yeah, I am. Want me toshowyoujusthowbad?”“You know that I’m

hanging out with Aidentoday.”“WhydoyouthinkIchose

nottodothecompetition?”“Because you’re over all

this high school bullshit?”Braxtonreplies.“That, and itmeansAiden

will be busy. While I’ll besittingwithyou.”Braxton stops smiling and

looksathisbrotherinawe.“Iworship you. That’s fuckingbrilliant.”“I’m going to get some

goodies. You’re welcome tocomesitwithus.”“Who’sus?”Braxtonasks.“Um, me, Maggie, Katie,

Annie, Pressley, Embry, andMaggie’sstudent,Alicia.”“Ihaven’tmetheryet.She

aredhead,bychance?”“Stopwiththetrio.You’re

going to be sitting with the

video trio. Consider yourselflucky.”“I wanna get lucky,”

Dawson whispers in my ear.“Brax, go place a bet orsomething.”Braxton rolls his eyes but

doesashe’stold.“You have to help me

watchoutforhimatthepartytonight.”“You’re going to have to

watch out for me tonight,”Dawson says, sliding even

closertomeandgrabbingmyass.“Dawson!” I say, pulling

awayfromhim.“Keatyn,” Cooper Steele

says loudly behind me. “Aword,please?”Ijumpslightly,knowinghe

probably just heard whatDawson said to me. “Uh,sure.”Dawson doesn’t let go of

me right away though. Hekissesmycheekandgivesme

ameaningful,“Later.”Cooper motions for me to

follow him over to theregistration table. “Whatwasthatallabout?”“Whatdoyoumean?”“Are you sleeping with

DawsonandAiden?”“Not that it is any of your

business, but no. Why? Youjealous?”He rolls his eyes. “Not

funny.Keatyn,Iknowguys.”“Onewould assume, since

youareone,”Isayinasmart-asstone.“Trust me. That’s not

going to work. You’ll pushaway thebettermanandendupwiththeonewho’swillingtosettle.”“There’s no reason I can’t

datethembothifIwantto.Isthat seriously what youwantedtotalkabout?Mysexlife?”He cringes. “You should

not have a sex life. You’re

seventeen. You have yourwholelifeaheadofyou.”I stare blankly at him.

“YouknowaswellasIdo,ifVincent finds me, my lifemight be very short. I’mgoingtoenjoyit.”Heshakeshishead.“We’re

getting off track here. Didyou think about what you’lldoifyoucan’trun?”“Yes.”“And?”“I’dhavetostayandfight.

Canyouteachme?”Hesmiles.“Iwasgoingto

suggest that, but I thoughtyou’darguewithme.”“Ican’tstartuntilI’mdone

withrehearsals.”Istudyhim.“Justsowe’reclear,I’llneverarguewithyouwhenitcomesto my safety. This might bejust a job toyou,but it’smylife.”Hegrabsmyarmandgets

inmyface.“Iunderstandthatprobably more than anyone

youknow.WhydoyouthinkI’mhere?”“Because you’re getting

paid well and you want acareer with Garrett’scompany?”“Those are perks. Garrett

hashundredsofspecialistsonhis staff. Why do you thinkhewentoutofhiswaytofindandhireme?”Isearchhisface.Histight,

determined expression hasturned to a sad, hauntedone.

“Idon’tknow.”“My sister was murdered

by her ex-boyfriend turnedstalker.”Myheartdropsintothepit

of my stomach. I cover mymouth with my hand. I leaptoward him, throw myselfinto his arms, and hug himtightly. “I’m so sorry,Cooper.Ididn’tknow.”Hepushesmegentlyoutof

thehug.“I’mnotgoingtoletithappenagain.”

“What thehell isgoingonwithyoutwo?”Whitneysaysloudly, startling me, andcausingme to react in awaythat makes it look likesomethingisgoingon.“Nothing,” Cooper says

eyeing me carefully. “MissMonroetwistedherankle.It’spainful.”“Ididn’tseeyoufall.”“Ijustrolledit,”Ilie.Cooper bends down and

pretends to examine my

ankle. “It doesn’t look toobad. If it doesn’t loosen up,getsomeiceandelevateit.”“I will,” I say, fake

hobbling away. I stop, sighlike I’m inpain, and restmyweight on the check-in table.While I’m pretending tocheck out my ankle again, Inotice a greenmarker on thetableandgrabit.IfigureIbetterstilllimpa

little and not lookmiraculously healed. Like

when Gracie says she has atummy ache.You give her apiece of chocolate and she’spatting her stomach andtelling you it’s all betterbefore she’s even swallowedit.AsIlimpbacktothefield,

Aiden runs up tome.He’s alittle out of breath, andthere’s a shimmer of sweatgleamingonhissexyshirtlessbody.Which makes my whole

bodyfeelalittlelimp.“Areyoulimping?”“Oh, yeah, tweaked my

ankle.I’mfine.”“I saw you talking to

Dawsonearlier.Whyisn’thecompeting?”“Hesayshe’ssortaoverall

thishighschoolbullshit.”Aiden narrows his eyes at

me.“You’reminetoday.Youpromised.”“I know.But I’ll probably

besittingwithhimtowatch.I

promised his brother andthey’re together.” I smile athim. Imean, how can I not?Helookslikearealgod.I hold the marker in front

ofhim.“What’sthatfor?”Ismile,pullthelidoff,and

grabhisarm.“Luck,Aiden,”I reply as I draw a four-leafcloveronhisbicep.Hecatchesmyneck inhis

hand, pulls my face close tohis, and kisses my forehead.

“Now,Ican’tlose.”I go back up in the

bleachers,mymindajumbledmess of thoughts aboutAiden’s kisses, Cooper’ssister,andVincent.Embry is bouncing in her

seat,excitedlywaitingforthefirst race to start. She handsmeagoodiebag.“Here,Igotyouone!”“Thanks! Are you having

fun?”

“Are you kidding? This isthe best place ever. I wish Ididn’thave towaituntilnextyear. I don’t want to gohome.”“Neither do I,” Pressley

says,givingherahug.“I don’t want to go home

either,” Braxton fake criesfrom behind the girls,wrappinganarmaroundeachone of their shoulders in alittle group hug. “So, there’sthispartytonight,ladies.”

“Braxton!” I bug my eyesout at him. “There’s noparty.”Braxton shakes his head.

“Obviously, Keatyn doesn’thave this place wired like Ido.”I turn toDawson and give

him a what-the-hell-are-you-going-to-do-with-your-brotherlook.Heshrugs.Maggie says to the girls,

“Keatyn’sright.Youcan’tgoto a party. If you want to

come here next year, youshouldn’tjeopardizethat.”Pressley sticks out her

bottom lip. “But we likeparties.”Thankfully, the announcer

startscallingoffthenamesofthe contestants for the firstheatinthe100-yarddash.Riley wins the first heat,

beatingoutJakeandAce.Aiden’s heat is next. As

he’s getting lined up, Aidenwinks atme.How he knows

that I’m lookingat him fromthis far away is a littleunnerving,but thenhe flexeshis bicep and kisses thecloverIdrew.Iletoutalittlesigh.Thatis

wooing.Maybe there’s hope for us

yet.A hot, godly, tongue-

kissingkindofhope.“Brad’s gonna win this

race,” Dawson says frombehindme.

“Aiden’sfasterthanBrad,”Annie says, rolling her eyesat Dawson, while I rub thelittleglassshamrockthat’sinmypocket.Contestants. On your

marks.Getset.Go!Aiden is the first one out

front,butBradquicklyclosesthegap.“That’stheshirtlessgoalie,

isn’t it?” Pressley saysreverently. “He’s going towin. He has on gold shoes.

Like that god. Was itHermes?Theonethatwassofast?”“He looks like a god too,”

Embry snickers under herbreath to Pressley. They puttheir heads together andgiggle as Aiden kicks it intohigh gear and crosses thefinishlinefirst.Idon’tcarethatDawsonis

sitting here. I stand up andcheer.

Afteralltheraces,there’sabreak while the scores gettallied.“I smell cotton candy,” I

sayoutloud.“I fucking love cotton

candy!”Braxtonexclaims.“Pussy,” Dawson says,

hitting him on the shoulder.“You eating pink chick foodnow?”Braxton flips him off then

standsup,putshishandtohischest, and yells at the top of

his lungs. “To quoteAristophanes, the ancientGreek playwright, ‘ To blurtit out in a word—we wantlaying!’”Icovermymouthwithmy

hand, trying not to laugh. Ican’t believe he just yelledthatfromthestands!He stays in the stands,

amidst cheers,while I followmynosetothecottoncandy.“Hey, wait up,” Maggie

yells from behind me. “I’m

gladLoganwonhisheat.”“Yeah,metoo.Iheardhe’s

areallygoodwrestler.”Shesighs.“Helooksreally

goodoutthere.”“Why don’t you talk to

him?” I ask, while thinkingfateneedstofigureoutawayto get these two backtogether.“I tried. I gave up. Part of

me feels for Dawson, youknow. I know what it feelsliketodosomethingandwish

morethananythingyoucouldtakeitback.”Shark bumps Maggie’s

shoulder. “You two haven’tbetyet.”I dig in my bag for some

coins and hand them to him.“I’m putting it all on Logan.Heneedstowin.”Maggiesquintshereyesat

me, understanding that I’mnottalkingaboutthecontest.Hepunchesmybetintohis

phone. Then he says, “Oh,

here,” and hands me back atemporary tattoo. Of a four-leafclover.Ishakemyheadandlaugh.

“Dideveryonegetthese?”“A tattoo, yeah,” Shark

says,holdingouthis forearmand showing me a pantherwitharoseinitsmouth.“Classy,”Maggielaughs.He reaches in his jacket

pocketandhandsushisflask.“Ladies?”“Most definitely,” Maggie

says, grabbing it from himand taking a gulp. “In fact,can I have thewhole thing?”Shepats theothersideofhischest. “You always have aspare.”“You know me too well,

Maggie,”Sharkflirts.I shove the tattoo into my

pocket and drag Maggie tothe cotton candy. We’reholdingshotsofvodkainourmouth and letting chunks ofcotton candy dissolve in it,

when Aiden and Loganbeelinetowardus.“Shit,” Maggie curses

underherbreath.“Congrats!” I tell them

both.Aiden pulls me into his

arms. “You look like agoddessandsmelllikecottoncandy. Reminds me of theFerriswheel.”“I didn’t look like a

goddessthen.”“You always look like

one,”hewhispers.I realize that Maggie and

Logan are standing thereawkwardly.“Um, so good luck on the

rest of the events. We’ll becheering.Maggie and I havetogetbacktoourstudents.”“That’sokay,”Aidensays,

pattingatightsetofabs.AbsI really want to lick. “Wehave to go fuel up thesebodies.”I trynot todroolbut can’t

keepfromsaying,“Yes.Yes,youdo.”“That was awkward,”

Maggie says, shoving morecottoncandyintohermouth.We watch the rest of the

field competitions. Thewinners get pared down tojust six finalists who mustwrestletheirwaytovictory.After watching all of the

wrestling matches, we’redown to Jake and Logan for

thechampionship.Aiden takes my hand and

leadsmeovertoLogan’ssideof the mat. It feels odd notbeing on the same side asJakeandDawson.While Aiden fills up

Logan’s water bottle, I takethefour-leafclovertattoooutof my pocket and hand it toLogan. “I want you to havethis.”“Atattoo?”“Yeah.It'sforluck.”

“Aiden has been intoshamrocks lately,” he says,eyeing me suspiciously, andnottakingthetattoo.“Webothwantyoutohave

luck.”“Jakeisyourfriend.”“Yeah, well, I hope

eventually you’ll be myfriendtoo.”Hegrinsatme.“Ithinkyoushouldforgive

her,Logan.”“Shewon’tforgiveme.”

“Wasshegoodforyou?”“She was the best thing

ever.”Aiden comes back and

handshimthewaterbottle.I raise my eyebrows at

Loganandshakethetattooathim.“I’llevenputitonyou.”“Fine,” he says, a little

smileplayingonhislips.He stands still while I

dumpwateronatowel,placethe tattoo on his arm, andthen hold the wet towel

against it. After a fewseconds, I pull the towel andthe paper off and look at theclover now on his arm.“Perfect.”LoganfistbumpsAidenas

he goes out on to the mat.“Wishmeluck.”Aiden puts his hands on

my waist and looks straightintomy eyes. “Why did youdothat?”“I see how he looks at

Maggie.”

“Shedestroyedhim.”“He said she was the best

thingever.”Aidennods.“Iwaskindof

jealous of their relationshiplastyear.Theywereamazingtogether.Alwayshappy.”“Untiltheyweren’t.”Henodssadly.“Yeah.”“If they’re meant to be,

they’ll get back together,don’tyouthink?”“Ithinkhenevershould’ve

lethergointhefirstplace.”

The ref blows the whistleand I go sit on the bleachersto watch the match whileAidenstaystocoachLogan.Maggietakesaseatnextto

me.It’sabackandforthbattle.

One point for Logan. AtakedownforJake.Thenatiedmatch.They are grappling and

twisting out of each other’sarms, when Logan makes asweet move, flipping Jake

overandpinninghisshouldertothemat.The ref gets down on his

kneesandthecrowdshoutsashe counts by hitting themat.One.Two.Three.TherefpullsLoganupand

his arm into the sky,proclaiminghimthewinner.Maggie forgets who she

was supposed to be cheeringfor and rushes out onto themat, throws her arms aroundLogan,andhugshim.

He hugs her back inexcitement.But then he pulls away

fromher.Maggie lowers her head

just for a minute. Then shestraightens up her shouldersandwalkstallandconfidentlyover to Jake. Jake grins ather, grabs her around thewaist, and kisses her hard asLoganlookson.

Cankissesspeak?10pm

Afterthebanquet,Aidenasksme to go for awalk, leadingme down to the gym wherewe watched the movie onFriday.“I didn’t get to show you

this last night, so I had them

leaveitup.”When we get to the door,

he says, “Okay, close youreyes.” Then he leads meabout ten steps across thegymfloor.I was here watching the

movie. What could hepossiblywantmetoseethatIdidn’talready?He stands closely behind

me, entwines his hands withmine, and rests his chin onmyshoulder.

“Open your eyes.” I openthem while he continues.“This is the view from agorgeous hotel in Crete.Someday we’re going tostand on this balcony andwatchthissunsettogether.”“You had a sunset made

forme?”“Iwas the liaison between

the drama department’s setdesigners for the gym, likePeyton worked with the artstudentstodothecafé.”

“You had a sunset madeforme?”Iblubberagain.“Yeah. I want to watch a

millionsunsetswithyou.”Ican’tspeak.Iwanttostay

wrapped in his arms foreverandnotmove.“We should probably get

goingbeforecurfew,huh?”“Yeah,” I say, but I don’t

move. I just turn and lookintohiseyes.He runs the back of his

handgentlyacrossmycheek.

We lean towards each otherandourlipsmelttogetherinakiss.Cankissesspeak?I hope so, because I’m

trying to tell him everythingI’m feeling but am afraid tosay.Aiden’s kisses are so

different fromanyotherkiss.Maybe it’s because he’s theGod of all Hotties, I’m notsure, but his kisses say somuchmore.

Did you see the movie,IndependenceDay?There’sascene where an alien doessome kind of mentaltelepathy with the President,which allows him to see thealien’splans.That’s what it’s like with

Aiden.Whenhekissesme, IfeellikeIcanseeourfuture.It’s like he has the power

to send me mental messageswithhismouth.His mouth. The source of

allhispower.I don’t know why this

surprisesme.Hepullshislipsawayfrom

mine. I really wasn’t readyfor the kiss to end. I don’teven care that there was notongue.I’mneverreadyforittoend.Hemoveshismouthtomy

ear as he slides his handsacross the exposed skin onmy back. “I’m not quotingKeats this time. Let’s try

something else. ‘The hearthas its reasons which reasonknowsnothingof.’”“That’s beautiful. Who

saidit?”“Blaise Pascal. He was a

French philosopher in the1600s.”“It’sbeautiful.”“You’re beautiful. Like,

you take my breath away.Sometimes when you’retutoringme,IfeellikeIcan’tbreathe.”

Ifeelthatwayanytimehetouchesme.And especially when he

kisses me, which he doesagain.A slow, tender, amazing

kiss.It’s like when Prince

Charming kisses SleepingBeauty. He gives her thatsingle, slow, perfect kiss towakeherup.That’s how I feel with

Aiden. Like he’s waking up

somethinginsideofme.Kissing him is like

watching fireworks: a littleflashasitgoesupinthesky,an explosion of colors, thosecolors falling and fading inthesky,andthenyouheartheboom.Feeltheboom.Thebeatof

your heart booming in yourchest.“I’m really glad we’re

getting to be friends,Boots,”he says. Then he chuckles.

“Well, the kind of friendswhokiss.”Whatthehell?Really?Ohmigawd, I really donot

understand him.Why all thewooing if all he wants is afriends with benefitsrelationship? Why a millionsunsets?

You’relikemy

idol.1am

Braxton decided he’s goingtobethelifeofthepartyand,unfortunately, Riley helpedhim. He’s already tipsy oncoconutrumwhenImeethimattheCave.Heflirtswitheveryoneand

handsoutpartyfavorbuttons

thathehadmadewithDallas’pickup line. They say, YouLook Magically Delicious inbright colors and have a biggreenshamrockinthemiddleofthem.The buttons are a big hit.

Everyonewantsone.“What the hell?” Dallas

says,comingtostandnext tome and looking around.“That’s my line. He stole itfromme.”“Did you make it up or

finditontheinternet?”Dallas rolls his bloodshot

eyes. It’s obvious that he’ssmoked already. “I found itontheinternet.”Braxton interrupts us,

giving Dallas a swat on theback. “Dude, you’re like myidol. Girls are loving thesebuttons. I’m totally gettinglaidtonight.”DallasgrinsasChelseaand

her boobs bounce toward us.“Metoo,dude.Metoo.”

“He might be, but you’renot, Brax. You’re my date,meaningyou’llbewithmeallnight.”“Keatyn, baby. You

jealous? Don’t want toshare?” He pulls a flask outofhispocketandputsituptohis lips. I slap it away,causing suntan lotionsmelling alcohol to miss hismouthandfalltotheground.“You’re donewith this,” I

say, grabbing the flask and

shovingitinmybackpocket.“There’s plenty more

where that came from. AndI’mjustgettingstarted.”Hewandersoffintoapack

of junior girls. They fawnover him like he’s theschool’s new mascot. Someof them are even petting hishair.WhydidIagreetothis?Andwhat is it about those

Johnson brothers that I justcan’tsaynoto?

Aiden comes up behindme,slideshishandsdownmyarms, and holds my hands.“How’sbabysittinggoing?”“Not well. He’s already

past tipsy and people keepgivinghimmore.I’mtemptedto just pin a big note to hisshirtthatsaysIffound,pleasereturn to Keatyn’s dorm andleave.”“CanIputoneofthoseon

you? If found, return toHawthorne38B?”

“I don’t know. You thinkI’llgetlost?”“Ithinkyou’vebeenlost.”“What the hell is that

supposedtomean?”He turns me around and

kisses my nose, whichsoothes my very ruffledfeathers.“I didn’t mean anything

bad. I meant it to be cute.Like you’re lost withoutme.Youknow,yousayIgetmadfast. So do you. You were

instantlypissed.Icouldseeitinyourface.”Hetouchesthecornerofmyeyeandthenthetipofmynose.“Yougetlittlecrinkleshereandyouscrunchupyournose.”I look into his eyes and

forget where I am, the partyaround me disappearing. Ilean in to kiss him when Ihear Dawson say madly, “Ithought you were watchingmybrother.”“Ihavebeen.”

“Doesn’t look like you’reevenpayingattention tohim.Look.”Hepoints.AllIcanseeareBraxton’s

arms wrapped around twogirls, who seem to have himpinnedtoatree.“Shit,” I say, leaving both

himandAiden.“Sorry,girls,he’smine,” I

say,pullinghimaway.“Jeez,youdon’thavetotry

and seduce the entire schoolyourfirstnighthere.”

“Oh, I’m not, baby,” hesays slurs drunkenly. “I’mjustplantingseeds.”“You better have not

planted any seeds,” I reply,thinkingbacktothebookmymom read me when I waslittle. About how the daddyplants a seed in the mommythatturnsintoababy.Ick.Dawson whispers in my

ear.“Iwanttoplantmyseedsinyou.Wannagobacktothedormandhavesomefun?”

Iturnaround.“Ohmigawd.Did yourmom read you thatbooktoo?”“Yeah,”he laughs.“Iused

to tell all the little girls atschool that Iwanted to plantseedsinthem.”I roll my eyes and laugh.

“That’s disgusting, but whyam I not surprised? Andbecause your brother openedhisbigmouthabouttheparty,I’m not only watching him,I’vegot towatchKatie’sand

mytwofuturestudents.”“Those girls don’t look

fourteen.”“That’s why they have to

bewatched.”“Who’s watching them?

Because I just saw thatblonde one making out withDallas.”“Dallas?What the fuck? I

thought he was off withChelsea getting laid. Is noonehere responsible?”Istartto march off, but then turn

around and grab Dawson’sshirt. “Get your brother toRiley’sroom,now.I’llgogetthegirls.”I march off in search of

them. I find Katie, who isengrossed in a conversationwith Bryce. “Where are thegirls?”“What girls?” she says,

lookingupatme.“Embry and Pressley. The

girls you’re supposed to bewatchinglikeahawk.”

“Oh, they’re togethertalking to Shark. He’sharmless.”“Katie!He’sgoing togive

themeacha flaskand they’llend up under some assholelikeTyrese.Go.Find.Them.”“Oh,Ididn’tthinkofthat.”IspyEmbrystandingoffto

theedgeoftheparty,Shark’sflask in hand, flirting withJake.“Hey,Jake.Embry.How’s

itgoing?”

“Good,” Embry says,placing a hand on Jake’sbroad chest. “Jakeyherewastelling me how greatEastbrookeis.He’saprefect,youknow.”“I do know. Jake, could I

talktoyouforamoment?”Ipullhimouttowhereshe

can’thear.“She’sfourteen.”“Calm down, Monroe. I

knowthat.ShewastalkingtoTyrese. She seems kindadrunk and I didn’t want

anythingtohappentoher.”I give Jake a big hug. “I

loveyou.Thankyou.”“You wanted me to lose

today.”“I know. Jake, do you

reallylikeMaggie?”He shrugs. “She’s fun.

Cute.”“Are you serious about

her?”“Idon’twant tobeserious

about anyone right now. Itoldyouthat.”

“But you’ve been hangingout.Youkissedherinfrontofeveryonetoday.”“She’s still in love with

Logan,regardlessofwhatshesays. I know that’s why shekissedmetoday.Idon’twanttobeanyone’ssecondchoice.Been there. Done that. So,whateverwe dowill only beinthenameoffun.”“You really are a good

prince.”“Youwantme tohelpyou

get everyone back to thedorms,don’tyou?”“I would love your help.

But that’s not why I saidyou’re a good prince. Anygirl would be lucky to haveyou.Mr.Chameleon.”“Ha. You’re exactly the

sameway.Don’t laugh,butIthink it would be really cooltobeanactor.Ikindawanttoskip the whole Ivy LeaguethingandgotoNYUtostudyacting.Whatdoyouthink?”

“I thinkyoushould followyour dreams, wherever theytakeyou.”He wraps an arm around

myshoulder,kissesmyhead,and says, “That’swhy I loveyou,Monroe.Oh,andby theway, you can come with mewhenIbreakthatnewstomyparents.”“I’dbehonored,”Itellhim

as we walk back to Embry,who, thankfully, is talking toPressley.

Jake wraps an arm aroundeach girl, gives them aprincely smile, and says,“Ladies, allow me to escortyoubacktoyourdorm.”The girls visibly swoon

and, thankfully, don’t argueaboutleavingtheparty.I findKatie,whohasbeen

frantically searching for thegirls.“Ican’tfindthem,”shesays,pantingalittle.“Idid.Jake’swalkingthem

back to our dorm. I’m going

with them, so you can stayout.”Her eyes get big. “Really?

Thankyou.”“Whyareyousoexcited?”“Because Bryce is really

cute!”“And you are not drunk.

I’mproudofyou.”She smiles. “I’m proud of

metoo.”I round up Braxton,

noticing along the way that

Chelsea has Aiden cornerednear a bush. Based on herbody language, she’s pissedathim.I’dreallyliketowalkover

thereandkisshim.But screw that. If Aiden

wants her, I’d rather knownow.I drag Braxton, practically

kickingandscreaming,outoftheCave.“I’m supposed to have the

trio,”hecries.

AndImean,hecries.He’s now drunk and

sobbing.Isuckasachaperone.Actually, Riley sucks for

letting him drink before heevergothere.“Braxton, honey. You’re

not ready for the trio. Youhavetoworkuptothat.”“I’m ready. I’m ready.

Really,Iam.”“I need you to be quiet

while we walk past the

dorms,okay?Reallyquiet.”“Okay!!”heyells.I slap my hand across his

mouth, shutting him up.Embry,Pressley,andJakearestandingbymywindow.Embry immediately rushes

toward us. “Is he okay?” sheslurssweetly.Braxton grabs her hands,

smilesbig,andthenproceedstopukealloverhershirt.“Oh,gross!”sheyells.“Shh!”Isay.

JakepushesPressley’sbuttthrough the window andwhispers to her, “Grab her acleanshirt.”She falls into my room

with a thud. And I pray thatnoonehearsallthis.Please don’t let us get in

trouble.Braxton looks at the puke

alloverEmbry.“Mybad,”hesays,tryingtowipeitoffhershirt.“There’snowayI’mgoing

to a movie with you now.You need to grow up!” sheyells, backing away fromhim.Thenshegags.Andpukesonhim.An impressive projectile

puke that I just manage tododge.“That. Was. Awesome,”

Jakesaystoher.She covers her face in

horror, drops to the ground,and starts sobbing. “I wanna

gohome.”Igetoutmyphoneandcall

Riley. “Get your ass to mydorm.”“I’m kind of . . . in the

middle...ofsomething,”hesays.He’sbreathingheavily.“I don’t care what you’re

doing.I’min themiddleofapukefest.Put itbackinyourpantsandgetyourasshere.”“Hangon...justalittle..

.Oh...”Ihanguponhim.

Fortunately,Dawsonstrollsthroughthetreesinstead.I grab Braxton and shove

him toward Dawson. “Takehimtoyourroom.”“No.Hesmells.”“Then take him to Riley’s

roomandstaywithhimuntilRiley’s finished withwhateverhe’sdoing.”Dawson rolls his eyes at

me, grabs his brother by theback of the neck, and dragshimaway.

“You’re not my favoritegirl anymore, Keatyn,”Braxton says, stumbling, hislittledrunkbodynomatchforDawson’sstrongone.“One down, one to go,”

Jakesays.I bend down next to

Embry, tell her everythingwill be okay, unbutton herpuked-onblouse,pullacleanshirt over her head, and thenlet Jake shove her buttthrough the window.

Fortunately, she lands onPressley,sothereisnothud.Istandnexttomywindow.

“Thanksforyourhelp,Jake.Ireallyappreciateit.”He looks up at the sky.

“Look at us. Standing underthemoonjustlikeintheplay.I feel like I should give youtruelove’skiss.”Ijuststareathim,notsure

whattosay.“You haven't been into it

lately.”

“Whatdoyoumean?”“Since you and Dawson

broke up, it’s affecting youon stage. It's like you don'tbelieveinitanymore.”He grabs my hand and

pulls me further into themoonlight.“Script it,” he says. “I see

you writing during rehearsalandduringceramics.”“Those are just my

journals. I used to writescripts.Stories.HowIwanted

my life to be. But lately, Idon'tknowwhattoscript.”“That’s the problem. You

used to feel it. You need tofeel it again. Close youreyes,”hesayssoftly.“You'rein the moonlight with yourtrue love. The Good Prince.What does he do to you?Howdoeshemakeyoufeel?”I close my eyes as Jake

runshishandsdownthesidesofmyarms.“Safe,”Ireply.He puts his hand in my

hair.“Howelse?”“Relaxed.Likeadayatthe

beach.”“You're comfortable with

him.”“Yes.”“What'shelooklike?”I shake my head. “I don't

know.”He touches my chest.

“What does he do to yourheart?”“He can calm it down or

makeitbeatfast.Hemakesit

feel like it could be rippedfrommychest.LikeifIlovedhim or gave him anotherchanceanditdidn’twork,I'dneverbethesame.”My eyes are still shut, but

tears start rolling down myface.Jakewrapshisarmsaround

me and pulls me into hischest.“Keepgoing.”“We'reon thebeach in the

moonlight. I made a wishthere.”

“Whatdidyouwishfor?”“Him. My good prince.

We’re at my house. On mybeach. He wraps his armsaround me and tells me hewishedonthemoontoo.Thateven though it hasn't beeneasy, even though we're notperfect,we’reperfectforeachother.That he lovesmewithhisheart,body,andsoul.”“And then they kiss,” he

says breathlessly, putting hislipsonmine.

I kiss him. My perfectboy.“Marry me?” he says,

wakingmefrommydaze.Iopenmyeyes.Jakeison

his knee finishing the lastsceneoftheplay.IhearPressleyclap.“Yes,”Isay.Hestandsupandgivesme

a big hug. “That was muchbetter.Don’tletyourreallifegetinthewayofyourdream.Night,Monroe.”

As he walks away, I lookupatthemoonandcan’thelpbutwonder ifhe’s lookingatittoo.Aidenstartlesme.“Sonow

you’rekissingJaketoo?”“What? Oh, no. We were

practicingfortheplay.Ifyousaw us kiss, you must haveseenhimpropose.”“I did. Just didn’t love the

kiss.”I hangmy head. “He says

since I broke up with

Dawson, I’m not asbelievable. That it’s like Idon’t believe in loveanymore.”Aidencockshishead.“Do

you?”Ilookbackatthemoon.“I

wantto.”Pressley helps me get

Embry cleaned up and theybothquicklyfallasleeponthefloor.I think about what Jake

saidaboutnotlettingmyreallife get in the way of mydreams.IthinkaboutVincent.About how he’s keeping

me away from my family.Awayfrommylife.As I stare at the stars

glowing on my ceiling,Aiden’s quote pops into myhead.“The heart has its reasons

which reason knows nothingof.”

Thehearthasitsreasons.Does my heart have

reasons?And, if so, how can I

reasonwithmyheart?Oristhatthepoint?Reason and thinking

shouldn’t play apart inwhatyourheartfeels?But how can it not? We

have to protect ourselves.Protectourhearts.Don’twe?Isn’t that what Mom told

me? Don’t give away yourhearteasily.Although, in that case, I

thinkshewasreferringtomybodymorethanmyheart.“The heart has its reasons

which reason knows nothingof.”So, reason can’t be a part

oflove.Youjusthavetofeelit.Like Jake made me do

tonight.Ithink.

Sunday,October23rdAtargetdate.

7:30amAnnie barges into our room,deftly leaps over the still-

sleeping girls, and jumps onmy bed. “I need to talk toyou.”“You’re really nervous

about your parent’s partytoday,aren’tyou?”“I was, but now I’m kind

of freaking out aboutsomethingelse.”“What?”“Wesetatargetdate.”“Atargetdate?”“The date we’re going to

havesex.”

“Oh.”“Oh, gosh. That doesn’t

sound very romantic, doesit?”“No,itdoesn’t.Didhesay

that?”“No! I just mean we

decided the day that we’regoing to do it. It’ll be afterWinter Formal. We’ll be alldressed up. We’ll dance allnight.Gotoahotel.”“WhenisWinterFormal?”“It’sinDecember.”

“So are you freaking outbecausethat’stoosoon?”She clasps her hands

togetherandconfesses,“Fine.Last night, we almost did it.Like it was right there. Hehad a condom. I told him Iwanted to.”Sheunclaspsherhands and covers her face.“Hesaidno!”“Hedid?”“Yes.AndIstartedcrying.

Like,Ibawled.”“Whatdidhedo?”

“He got dressed, said hewas sorry, gave me anawkwardhug,andleft.Itwasso embarrassing. And nowI’m supposed to take himhomewithme!?”“Has he texted you or

anything?”“No!” She starts crying.

“We talkaboutour futureallthe time. We’ve named ourchildren. Decided on ourcareers.Plannedoutcollege.”“Whatwasthesituation?”

“What do you mean? Wewere in my room, basicallynaked. I still can’t believeI’ve even let him see menaked. Well, in-the-darknaked.”“Do you think that’s why

hesaidno?”“Becausethelightsweren’t

on?”“No, silly. You’ve been

telling him that you want towait. Maybe he wanted tomess around but not do it.

Maybe the fact that youwantedtodoitsurprisedhimand he was afraid you’dregretit.”“Itwas thatdamnGodsof

Olympuscostume.Helookedsohotallday.”Her phone buzzes in her

hand.Shedropsitonthebedand closes her eyes. “Youlook.”Ireadhistexttoher.

Ace<3MySexyBaby: I’m

sorry I made you cry lastnight. I wanted to. God, Iwantedto.Butitwillbeyourfirst time. I want it to bespecial not just some dormthing. That’s why I thoughtwe should at least wait untilWinterFormal.Are youmadatme?Do you still wantmetogotoday?She cries harder now. I’m

pretty sure they are tears ofrelief.

“You’re really lucky hecares so much about you,Annie.Don’tbemadathim.”Herhandsshake.“Typefor

me.”I takethephoneoutofher

hands.“Whatdoyouwanttosay?”“Say, I want you to go

todaymorethananything.”Ace<3MySexyBaby: I

can’t wait to meet yourfamily. And I’m glad we

haven’tyet.Iwanttobeabletolookyourdadintheeye.Anniesmilesandholdsthe

phonetoherchest.“I’msoinlovewithhim.”Igiveherahug.“AndI’m

sohappyforyou.”“You’re not trying to talk

meoutofit.”“Annie, that decision is so

personal.Youhavetogowithwhat you know. What youfeel. Ican tell thatyouknow

it’sright.”“It is. It just is.Okay, so I

need to go get ready. We’resupposed to leave in like anhour.”“Have fun today. And

don’t worry. Your parentswilllovehim.”She bounds quietly out of

theroom.I check my own phone,

smiling when I see a latenighttextfromAiden.

HottieGod:Lecoeurasesraisons que la raison neconnaîtpoint.Aww,howcuteisthat?It’s

the quote he said last night,onlyinFrench.Iwanttohearhimsayit tome.SoIfigure,whattheheck.I’llcallhim.He answers with, “Boots,

you’reupearly.”Hisvoiceisdeep and gravely. I think Iwokehimup.“Sayittome.”

“Saywhat?”“Thequote inFrench.The

textyousentmelastnight.”“You do realize I cut and

pasteditfromtheinternet?”“Justtry,please?”“Les co-oer a sesh raisins

cue la raisins ne con notpoint.”It’s so cute.HavingAiden

butcher the French languageisseriouslythemostadorablething.“Thatwasbad,wasn’t it?”

hesays.“Yousayit.”“Lecoeurasesraisonsque

laraisonneconnaîtpoint.”“It sounds prettier when

you say it. I guess that’s notthatmuchofasurprise,sinceyou’realotprettierthanme.”I blush. Sitting inmybed,

allbymyself,Iblush.I can barely talk, I’m

smilingsobig.“You’regoingtolearntospeakitprettytoo.IlovewhenyouspeakFrenchtome.It’sasexylanguage.”

“Just another motivationfor me to learn. I had funyesterday.Notsomuchattheparty,but...”“Yeah,meeither.Okay,so

Ihavetogettorehearsal.”“AndIhavetogetbackto

sleep.Seeyoulater,Boots.”Dawson: So what

happened last night after Ileft?Were youwithAiden? Ihatethis.

Me: Idealtwith thegirls.AndIhateittoo.Iwashappywithyou.Butthen...Dawson:Ifuckeditallup.

Me:Kinda,yeah...

Dawson: So are we still

gonna,um,justkiss?Me:Doyoustillwantto?

Dawson: You know the

answertothat.Me: You seemed mad at

melastnight.Dawson: Seeing Aiden

almostkissyoupissedmeoff.But I do appreciate youtaking care of Braxton, eventhoughIdidn’treallyactlikeit.Wannacomeover?Wecanhavebreakfastinbed.Me: Do you have food in

yourbed?Dawson:No.

Me: I didn’t think so. I

have rehearsal then I’mmeeting your brothers andDallasforcoffee.Dawson:CanIcometoo?

Me:Sure.

Stepupmygame.11:30am

Afterpractice, Iheadover totheboys’dorm.ThesecondIwalk in, Dawson scoops meupandpullsmeontothebedwith him. But Dallas sits infrontofthebed,likeusual,soImassagehisshoulderswhile

wetalk.Dawson turns to Braxton,

whoislookingmiserable,andsays loudly. “Braxton, littlebro! How you feeling thismorning?!”“Horrible,thanks.”“So did you enjoy your

first Eastbrooke party, orwhat?”Braxton shakes his head.

“No. Miss Bossy Pantswouldn’tletmehookupwithanyone.Itwaslame.”

I raise my eyebrows athim.“ThenIguessyou...”“But super fun,” he

interruptsme.“Exceptforthewholepukingincident.”“Thank god Jake was

there.”“Yeah,what’supwithyou

and Jake. You fucking himtoo?”“Braxton! No, I’m not.

He’smyfriend.”“Looked like more than

that to me. Looks like you

have some competition, bro.First Aiden made her asunset. Then Jake went allknight in shining armor.You’regonnahavetostepupyourgame.”“How do you even know

that?”“You told Pressley. She

toldme.”“Asunset?”Rileyasks.“It was a drawing on the

wall.”“GuessIdoneedtostepup

mygame,”Dawsonsays.“Why? You pretty much

told me the other night thatwe’re just friends withbenefits.”“You know we’re more

than that.” He moves to asittingpositiononthebedandputs his hands on myshoulders. “You alwaysmassage everyone else. Doyou want me to massageyou?”“You know what I really

want? I want the school toinstall abathtub inmy room.Do you know how much Imiss taking baths? I had ahugetubathomeandallsortsof different bubble baths andoils.Imissthatsomuch.”“Yeah, sometimes you

have to lose something torealize how important it is,”Dawson says, getting off thebedandpullingmewithhim.“Comewithme.”Shit.He’sgoingtotakeme

to his room. I look to Rileyand Dallas, hoping they willsay something, like I can’tleave, but they both grin atme.They are so unhelpful.

“See if Iever rubyourbacksagain,”ItellthemasDawsondragsmeoutoftheroom.Rileysays,“Seeya,baby.”I try to think of another

reasonwhy I can’t go to hisroom.“I,er,Ihavetogosaygoodbye to my student and

then work on the Greekweekendcleanup.”“When?”I glance at my phone.

“Fiveminutes.”“I’lltakethat.”He pulls me toward his

room. I don’t know what todo. I’m not a very gooddieter.Ihavenowillpower.Whenwe get in his room,

hepointstohisbedandsays,“Sit.”“I’mnotadog,Dawson.”

He tackles me. “Fine, youcanliedown,then.”Shit.“Dawson,Ican’t.Notright

now.”“Iwanttotalktoyou.”“Aboutwhat?”“Lastnightsuckedforme.”“I’msorry.”“I know you think he’s

wooing you, but you knowhis player past.Guys do thatstufftogetinagirl’spants.”“Igottago,Dawson.”

Blindfolded.4:30pm

Theprospectivestudentshavebeen picked up. The Greekweekendhasbeencleanedup.Now, I’m on my way to amandatory dance meeting.Somethingaboutabigschoolrivalry game that’s comingup.

Then I’m supposed to dodinner and tutoring withAiden.But I’vebeenworryingall

dayaboutwhatDawsonsaid.Especially after seeingChelsea’s body language lastnight. Did he tell her thethings he’s been telling me?Isthatwhyshewasupset?Iwalk into the fieldhouse

and head toward the danceroom.“Keatie,”Ihear.

I turn around and seeDawson peeking around acorner.“Hey.”He stalks up to me and

grabs my hand. “I’mkidnappingyou.”“Dawson, I have to go to

this meeting, or I’ll get ademerit.”“Have you gotten any

demeritsyet?”“Uh,no.”“Then you have a few to

spare.Come on,we’re goingouttheback.”Hepullsmedownthehall,

around the weight room,dragsmeintotheboyslockerroom,andoutthesidedoor.“Wherearewegoing?”“I’mnottelling.”I pull back on his strong

hand.“Fine. Maybe I just

decided I’m not giving upwithoutafight.Hepicksmeup,throwsme

over his shoulder, and runswith me across the footballfield and out to the parkinglot.Heleansmeupagainsthis

car, says, “Mhmmm, thisfeels familiar,” pulls me intight,andkissesmedeeply.Whilehesignsusout,Ihit

therightbuttonsonmyphonesonoonewillthinkIactuallywaskidnapped.After driving off campus,

he pulls over, grabs a

blindfold out of his pocket,andwrapsitovermyeyes.“Dawson, what are you

doing?”“If I tell you, I’ll have to

killyou.”“Veryfunny.”“Well,maybeI’lljusthave

totortureyouuntilyoucave.”“Caveaboutwhat?”“I want you to wear my

jersey for the Compass Cupgame. All the seniors asksomeonetoweartheir jersey,

and I want you to wearmine.”“Is that the rivalry game

that’scomingup?”“Yeah. The Westfield

Cheetahs versus theEastbrooke Cougars.Everyone calls it the PussyBowlthough.”“That’s funny. Both teams

arecats.”“So?”“No torture required,

Dawson. I’d love to wear

yourjersey.”“Excellent.Thatmeanswe

canmoveontothefun.”Dawson drives a short

distance, parks, opens mydoor, and leads me, stillblindfolded,somewhere.He leads me through a

door,downalonghall,and,Ithink,intoanelevator.We ride towhat has to be

an upper floor.That or it’s areallyslowelevator.The elevator dings and I

cantellsomepeoplegeton.Dawson says to whoever,

“I’msurprisingher.”I hear awoman laugh and

say,“That’ssocute.”We ride a little farther up,

get off the elevator, walk ashortdistance,andthenIhearthe unmistakable beep of akeycardandadooropening.Areweatahotel?Dawsonguidesmethrough

the door, makes me take afew more steps, and then

kissesme.I don’t know what he has

planned, but you can bet it’sgoingtobedamnsexy.“Do I have to stay

blindfolded?”“Hmmm,thatmightnotbe

abadidea.” He kisses me deeper and

cupsmyass.“Arewealone?”“We’re very alone. I’m

gonnatakeoffyourblindfold,butyouhavetopromisetobe

agoodprisoneranddowhatIsay.”“I didn’t know I was a

prisoner.”“Myprisoneroflove.”“Love?”“You know what? I

changedmymind.Ithinktheblindfold needs to stay on alittlelonger.”He runs his hands down

mysides,unbuttonsmyjeans,andpullsthemoffme.I reach toward him to feel

ifhestillhashisclotheson.He grabs my hand and

laughs. “Oh, no, no, Keatie.Don’t think you can use sextotryandgetoutofthis.”“Sothisisn’taboutsex?”“Nope. This is all about

romance.”“Dawson, I don’t get it.

I’mnottheone.YoutoldmeI’mnottheone.”“Noonecanseethefuture,

Keatie. And anyone whoclaims they can is just

blowingsmokeupyourass.”Heundoesmybra, slips it

offofme,andkissesme.And being undressed and

kissed while blindfolded isprettyfreakinghot.“So you blindfolding me

andstrippingmenaked isallaboutromance?”“Yes, it is.” He slides my

panties off slowly, then hetakes my hand and leads meto a room with a cold hardfloor.

“Dawson,Iwannasee.”He responds with a kiss,

runs his hands gently upmyback, and then pulls off theblindfold.I’mstandinginagorgeous

creamy marble bathroom.There’s abig tub raisedonapedestal in the center of theroom, surrounded bycolumns. The tub is filledwith water and rose petalsandthereareunlitcandlesalloverthevanity.

“Icouldn’tbuildyouabathtub, so I decided to rent youone.”I’minshock.Shockedthat

hewoulddothis.“It smells amazing in

here.”“It’s the roses.” He points

toabouquetofredroses.“They'regorgeous.”“Get in the tub,” he says.

So,ofcourse,Ido.He walks over to the

counter and lights the

candles.Thenhewatchesmeleanbackinthetub.“Aren’tyougettingin?”Hegrins.“Nope.Thisisso

youcanrelax.”“This is amazing, Dawes,

really.”Itakeinthewarmthofthe

water and the rose scent andfeelmyselfinstantlyrelax.“Whatareyougonnado?”“Justwatchsomefootball.”“You’re really not getting

inwithme?”

Hegrins. “Nope.Yousaidyouliketorelaxalone.”

You’renotplayingfair.

5:30pmI lie in the tub forwell overanhour.Thewatergetscold,soIdrainalittleoutandaddsomemorehotwater.

Dawson peeks his headaroundthecornerofthedoor.“Howarewedoing?”“Dawes,ohmygosh.This

isamazing.Seriously. Ican’tbelieve you did this for me.Doyouevertakebaths?”He laughs. “I don’t think

I’ve takenabath since Iwaslittle.Howlongdoyourbathsusuallylast?”“At least anhour, if I can,

butImighthavetogolongeronthisone.Youreallyaren’t

joiningme?”“Maybe later. I brought

bubble bath. Do you wantsome?”“Yes!!”He disappears from the

doorway then comes backwith a bottle of bubbles. Heheadsback towatchfootball,while I drain most of thewaterout, addabouta fourthof the bottle and fill the tubbackup.The bubbles are about six

inchesdeep.It’sawesome.I close my eyes and relax

somemore.And maybe possibly fell

asleep. Iwakeup chillywithnobubbles.I decide to get out of the

tub—since my fingersresemble prunes—wrapmyself in a fluffy whitetowel, and walk into thebedroom. Dawson issprawledoutacrossabigbed

watchingTV.“Finallyhadenough?”“I think I fell asleep. I’m

veryrelaxed.”“And I’m very starved.

Let’sorderdinner.”Shit.Dinner.Tutoring.“Whattimeisit?”“Alittleafterseven.”“Shit. What did I do with

myphone?”Heholdsitup.“It’shere.”Ilookaroundthebedroom,

look out the door, and see a

living room,diningarea, andbar.“Dawson,thisisasuite.”“It had the best bathtub I

couldfind.”“I was supposed to tutor

Aiden.”“Yeah. I saw.He’smaybe

texted you a few hundredtimes.”He slides off the bed,

walks up to me, kisses me,andthentakesoffhisshirt.Damn. He is so freaking

sexy.

“You’renotplayingfair,”Itellhim.“All’s fair in love and

war.”Hegivesmeasexy-asssmile.OneIcanfeeldowntomytoes.Okay,halfwaytomytoes.“Whydon’tyouorderfood

andI’lldealwithmyphone.”5:09: Aiden: Waiting in

thelibrary.5:16: Aiden: Where are

you?

5:27:Aiden:Ithoughtwewere doing tutoring afteryourmeeting.5:34: Aiden: Peytonsaid

you weren’t at the meeting.You okay? Are you sick orsomething?6:04: Aiden: Please text

meback...ItextAnnie.

Me: I think you’re

supposed to be back by now.

MyFrenchhomeworkisdoneif you want to borrow it. Iwas supposed to tutor Aidentonight, but I’m off campusand won’t be back untiltomorrow morning. So if heneeds help, maybe you canhelphim?Annie: I will. Are you

okay?Me: I’m fine. Just off

campus. How did the party

go!?Annie: Really well. And

guesswhat?Me:What?

Annie: There’s this big

porchswingatmyhouse.Wewere sitting in it. Talking.Swinging. He kissed me andthen . . . HE SAID IT!!! Hecupped my face in his hand,and looked at me SO

ADORABLY, and told me helovesme.That’swhyhe saidnolastnight.Me:OMG!Annie!!!I’mso

happyforyou!Annie: I’m happy for me

too.I fire off a quick text to

Katie, so she knows I won’tbe home tonight. Then I textAiden.

Me:I’mfine.Justwentoff

campus. Annie said she canhelp you with French. Justtext her, she has myworkbook.Ihitsendthenquicklyturn

my phone off. I know he’sgoing to askmewhy I wentoff campus and I don’t wanttoanswerthatquestion.Because I don’t know the

answer.

I never expected Dawsonto do something like this. Ilook back inside thebathroom at the tubsurrounded by candlelightand roses and wonder if itreally is just about sex.Becauserightnow, itdoesn’tfeellikeit.Dawsoncomesbackinthe

bedroom.I letmy towel drop to the

floor and say, “So you andme in a hotel room for the

next twelve hours. Youplanning to letme just sit inthe bathtub and turn into aprune?”“I’d rather turn you on.”

He touchesmy leg, so I leaninalittlecloser.“Hey,you’regettingmeallwet!”hesays.I give him my most

seductive look and coo, “It’sonlyfair.Yougetmewet.”My comment hangs there

foraminute.Hestaresatme,desirefillinguphiseyes,and

thenhepullsmedownonthebedwithhim.I’m unbuttoning his jeans

when there’s a knock on thedoor.“That must be room

service. Why don’t you puton a robe and I’ll get thedoor.”Idecidenottogetarobe.I hear everything getting

set up on the dining roomtable and then the doorclosingagain.

Dawson calls out, “Dinnerisserved.”I walk out into the dining

roombuck-naked.Dawson is standing at the

dining table, pulling silverlidsoffourplates.Isitdown.Putanapkinacrossmylap.Grab a roll. Take a teeny

bite.Smileathim.He’sfrozen,staringatme.Iraisemyeyebrowsathim

and shrug my shoulders.

“Guess I finally feelcomfortable enough to eatnaked.Maybe you should benakedtoo.”Heholdsmygazewhilehe

stripsoffhispants.I take another bite of my

roll. Smirk at him. Wait forhimtoattackme.Butinstead,hesitsdown.For a second, I feel

disappointed.But he stands back up

quickly,scoopsmeupoutof

the chair, drops me on thecouch,andpouncesontopofme.The second our lips meet

it’sfrantic.Ikisshimdeeply, like I’m

starved for him. It’s onlybeenabout48hourssinceourGreekday romp inhis room,but it feels likeweeks. Ikisshim.Kisshischest,hisneck,but then back to his lips. Ican’tseemtokisshimdeeplyenough.

When I can’t take itanymore, I arch myselftowardwhatIreallywant.Then I’m overcome with

feelings. Feelings of lust, ofpassion, of desire, of howcoulditgetbetterthanthis,ofdon’tstop,ofjustdoitalittleharder,ofthatwasamazing.“You’re amazing,” I

breatheout.“We’re amazing together,

Keatie.Don’tforgetthat.”

Monday,October24thSeriouslyinsatiable.7:07am

I manage to roll into theSocial Committee meeting,Red Bull in hand, at 7:07,whichisafeatofunparalleledproportions, as Dawson isseriously insatiable. Andwhile I’m feeling quiterelaxed, it’s safe to assume Ididn’tgetmuchsleep,fortheaforementioned reason.PeytonandWhitneydroneonabout the Greek weekend’ssuccess, what worked andwhat didn’t, while I do my

best tostayawakeandnot tolookatAiden.BecauseIkindafeelguilty.They announce that, based

on aFacebookpoll, our nextthemed weekend will beFrench and how excited theyall are. Peyton, Brad,Whitney, and Aiden wereobviouslybusylastnight.Brad,whoissittingnextto

me, goes into details abouttheirplans.I’mhalflistening,half sleeping with my eyes

open.“So I’m excited about the

French theme, butwe shouldhave a catchy name for theweekend,” he drones on. “Aslogan, if you will. Let’sbrainstorm.”I hear voices calling out

ideas.IseeLondon,IseeFrance.That one makes me

chuckle.ANightinParis.AWeekendinParis.

I imaginemy trip toParis.My pink dress flutteringaroundmelikespunsugar.CougarsandCroissants.BeretsandBeignets.VivalaFrance.Bonjour,Eastbrooke.L’Amour.I hear Peyton speak up.

“Nottobecritical,butIdon’tlike any of them. WhileGreek weekend was moreabout fun and games, IwanttheFrenchweekendtohavea

completely different feel. Iwantittoevokeromance.”I’m barely awake. Sort of

stuck between reality and aParisiandaydream.Iwistfullythink of what Aiden toldmethat one day. It sounded soincrediblyromantic.“Top of the Eiffel Tower,

sunset,”Iwhispersoftly.“What did you say?”Brad

asks,knockinghiselbowintomine.“Huh?Uh,what?”

“What did you just sayabouttheEiffelTower?”“Um, I don’t think I said

anything.”“Yes, you did. Something

aboutsunset.”Peytongrinsatme.“That’s

it! Top of the Eiffel Tower.Sunset.”Whitney nods

enthusiastically. “I love it. Itsoundssoromantic.”I gulp, realizing what I’ve

justdone.Idon’tdarelookat

Aiden, but somehow, I can’tstopmyselffromglancinghisway.He does that thing.Where

hestaresatme,looksintomysoul,grabs it, anddoesn’t letgo.Thenheblinksslowlyandhis mouth starts that slowbuildup to a smile. The littlesmirk,thesmile,andthenthefull-wattagegrin.Shit.I’vegottogetmoresleep!Brad hands out passes,

adjourningthemeeting.Theytalked all through historyclass andEnglish is about tostart, so I rush out of theroomandheadtoclass.As usual, I sit next to

DallasduringEnglish.“Do you wanna chill

tonight?”“Canwetomorrownight?I

didn’t get a lot of sleep lastnight.I’mreallytired.”“Yeah,wherewereyou?”

“Relaxing.”“Bullshit.”“Why do you think it’s

bullshit?”“Cuz if you wanted to

relax,you’dcallme.”“True.Thiswasasurprise,

though.Ididn’tplanit.”“Whodid?”“Youcan’ttellanyone,not

even Riley. Dawsonkidnapped me, blindfoldedme...”“Kink-ay.”

“No, like, he blindfoldedme so I would be surprisedabout where we were going.Remember yesterday when Imentioned how much I missbaths?Dawson got this hugehotel suite with an amazingtub,soItookthreesuperlongbaths. I think my fingertipsmight still be prune-ish.” Ihold up my fingers to showhim.“Soyou andDawes in the

tub,huh?”

“No. I took all three bathsby myself. He watchedfootball. He did it to besweet,notjustforsex.”“Soyoudidn’thavesex?”Irollmyeyesathim.“Fine. Tomorrow night.

Just you, me, and the Cave.Got it?We seriously need tofigure out who you’rechoosing. You dating thembothisnotgonnawork.”“Says the guy who made

out with three different girls

at the Cave Saturday night.It’llworkjustfine.”ButI’mnotreallysurethat

itwill.

Parallellinesthatwillnever

cross.Ceramics

Jake,Bryce, and I are sittingat our table, staring at ourpiecesthatgotfiredinthebigkiln this weekend. Jake’sbowl looks pretty good,althoughslightlyoffkilter.Bryce attempted a vase.

It’s round and fat on thebottom and gets skinniertoward the top, so it’srecognizable as a vase. Weglazed it a pretty blue, so heprobablygotadecentgrade.Mine, however, is a

disaster.And I’m so sad because I

worked really, really hardonit.I rolled out tons of skinny

strips, like when I used tomake play dough snakeswhen I was little. Then Irolled each snake into acurledupcircle, flattened thecircle, and put all the circlestogether to make a bowl. ItlookedamazingandIwassoproudofit.

It,however,didnotsurvivethekiln.Itmeltedapartandislying in frontofme,abunchofcircularpiecesinruins.“Lookin’good,”Jakesays,

elbowingme.“Shut up. You know how

hardIworkedonthis.”Ourteacherflitsby,telling

meIneededtoputthecircleson a base, as she hands usbackourgradesheets.Brycesays,“Sweet,Igota

C.”

Jake flips his paper over,grinning and showing off aB.Idon’tevenwanttolookat

mine.“You failed, huh?” Jake

asks.“I’msure.”Bryceflipsovermypaper.

OnthetopofitisaB.“Howthe hell did you get a B? Itfellapart?”I read the note from the

teacher. You had a beautiful

andcreativedesign.Thiswasthe most thought you’ve putintoapieceall year. I’d liketoseemorelikethisfromyou.We’ll work harder on thestructure next time. If it hadsurvived the kiln, you wouldhavegottenanA.I leave ceramics feeling

good about my grade, butwonderingaboutmylife.Andhowthebrokenpieces

relatetoit.I’ve never worked on my

structure. I fell apart everytime Brooklyn ditched meand I’m not going to do itagain.I want a relationship that

cansurvivethekiln.IknowDallasthinksIneed

to choose, but I don’t wantto.And, after last night, I’m

notreadyto.Dawson is likemy history

class. It doesn’t relate toceramics. They are two

separate classes that don’tintersect. Completely parallellinesthatwillnevercross.Icankeepthemseparate.And in themean time, I’ll

workonmyownfoundation.

All’sfairinloveandwar.

Lunch

AsIwalkintothecafé,Anniegrabs my arm and pulls measide. “I can’t believe youdidn’t tellme youwerewithDawsonatahotel!”Ipullherbackoutintothe

hall. “How do you knowthat?!”She looks atme like I am

anidiot.“It’sonFacebook?”“It’s what?! What does it

say?”Shefiddleswithherphone,

pulling up Dawson’s profile

andshovingitinfrontofme. I heart hotel bath time

withKeatie.Iclosemyeyestightlyand

mutter, “I’m going to killhim.” I calm myself downandopenmyeyes.“Whendidyou see it? Do you thinkAidensawit?”“I think everyone saw it,

and everyone knows youwerebothgonelastnight.”

“Whendidhepostit?”She looks down at the

screen.“Aboutanhourago.”My panic returns. “Annie!

WehavetogotoFrenchnext.How am I supposed to go toFrench? Ohmigawd! Historyandceramicsjustintersected!Theyweren’t supposed todothat! I think I’m gonna besick. Can you be sick too?Canweskip?”“What are you talking

about classes intersecting?

You’remakingnosense,andyou’re freaking out. Younever freak out. If you likeAiden,whydidyouspendthenightwithDawson?”“I’msoconfused,Annie. I

thought Dawson and I werejust about sex. And I wasgoing to be done with him,but thenhegotme this hugesuitebecauseIhadmentionedthat I missed taking baths.He’s trying to romance me.And I took threebathsallby

myself while he watchedfootball.”“Soyoudidn’tdoanything

withhim?”“That’s beside the point,

Annie.IcannotgotoFrench!WhatamIgonnado!?”“Are you mad at Dawson

forpostingit?”Then it dawns on me. He

did it on purpose. What didhe tellme?All’s fair in loveandwar?And maybe it is, unless

you’recollateraldamage.AmIcollateraldamage?Do I even know what

collateraldamageis?Orwasitadirecthit?IspyDawsonsittingatthe

lunch tableandchattingwithBryce.I march over with my

handsonmyhips,andAnnieon my heels. “A word withyou?”Bryce grins. “I wondered

why you were all dreamy in

ceramics.”Iignorehim.“What’s wrong?” Dawson

asks.“Your Facebook post,” I

saygrimly.Hiseyessparkleatme,and

heshrugs.Normally,Iwouldfindthisverysexy.Isitdowninthechairnext

to him. “Please, delete it,” Iplead.“Nope.”“Ihateyou.”

He leans in and whispers,“No, you hate that you lovesexwithmesomuchthatyoucan’t give it up. And I canplay too.Why is it okay forAiden to take you to fancyFrench dinners? If it weren'tfor him, we'd be backtogether.”“That’s bullshit and you

know it. It’s because of youthatwe’renottogether.”“But, Keatie, you

understood.You forgaveme.

Obviously.We’vedonea lotofmakingup.”Ishakemyheadathim,not

surewhattodo.I don’t eat. I feel sick

becauseIknowwhat’snext.French.Idon’tknowwhototurnto

foradvice,soIdecidetosendGrandmaaquickemail.Grandma—How do you choose

betweentwoevils?

“Annie, ohmigawd, walk

with me to French. Tell mesomething.Distractme.”“Like what?” The thought

of having to distract meseemstomakeherpanic.“Tell me more about this

weekend.”She smiles sweetly, her

panicgone.“Itwasgood.Thenightwealmostdid,um,it,Ididmorethantouchit.”“More with your hand or

withyourmouth?”“Both!IfiguredIwoulddo

it wrong, but I was reallyexcitedthatitworked.”“It usually does.” I laugh.

“Well, that'sgood.Soyou’reinlove?”“Yeah,Ithinkso.”“Butyousaidit?”She sighs. “I know. And

now I’m worrying about it.I'm probably analyzing toomuch and not feelingenough.”

“For a hopeless romantic,I'm surprised you’re not justlettingyourselffeel.”She stops walking and

looks atme intently. “Is thatwhatyoudo?”Ithinkaboutthat.AmIthe

polaroppositeofAnnie?DoIfeeltoomuchandanalyzetoolittle?“Is that what you think I

do?”“I don't know. You seem

ruled by emotion. Like, you

gowithwhatever you feel atthetime.”“Actually, no, Annie.

That’s not right. WithDawson, I feel and don'tthink.WithAiden,Ithinkandtrynottofeel.”“Why? Why do you keep

doing stuff with DawsonwhenyoureallylikeAiden?”“Becauseit’sscary,Annie.

Dawson is aknownquantity.Maybehedoesn’t lovemeinthe true love fairy tale sense,

but how many people evenfindthatinhighschool?”“Twopercent.”“How do you even know

that?”“I looked it up on the

internet. I wanted to knowwhat the odds are that Aceand I would actually staytogetherandgetmarried.”“That percentage is really

low.”She nods. “I know. But I

reallydolovehim.”

“I really lovedmyex, too.But we’re not together now.Mypoint is,whenyouare inlove, it’s all rainbows andsunshine. But my mom saysthat relationships are hardwork. And lots of peopledate, break up, get backtogether, and end up happilymarried. Just becauseDawson doesn’t know whathewantsoutofhis lifenow,it doesn’t mean we couldn’tbe happy together in the

future.”“Ornot.”“Exactly. That’smy point,

exactly. Somaybe it ismorejustlustwithus.Butit’sfun.It’s easy. I know where Istandwith him. I knowwhattoexpect.He'ssweet.Thesexis hot. With Aiden, I don’tknow what to expect. And Ilike him, Annie, I do. Andthat’s part of why I kindathink I’d be better off withDawson. I don’t want to get

hurt again. Someof the stuffthat Aiden says is soamazing, but at the sametime,it’salmostunbelievable.LikeIdon’tknowifhe’sjusttelling me what he thinks agirl wants to hear or if hereallymeansit.”“What does your heart

say?”“My heart is afraid of

Aiden.”“Iwant tomarryAce.We

always have somuch to talk

about. We even watched theHistory Channel last night,and he thought it was cool,notweird.”“Wow,thatisweird.”She bumpsmy arm. “Shut

up!”I laugh. “You know I'm

just teasing. I’m really gladyou’re not mad at meanymore.Imissedyou.”“I missed you too. Shit,”

shesays,noddingherheadtothe right. “There's Aiden.

Threeo’clock.”“Let’s pray he didn't see

it.” Then I grab her arm andwhisper, “Truth be told, Icould picture myself marriedtoAiden.”“SostopseeingDawson.”

Wesitdowninclass.Aiden files in afterus, sits

at his desk, and immediatelyleansupbehindme.“So,youwere at a hotel withDawson?”

“Yes.”“Takingbaths?”“Yeah. Earlier yesterday I

was telling him and DawsonandRileythatwasonethingIreally missed about home. Iused to take a bath almosteveryday.”“Andwhat’dyoudointhe

bathtub?”“Soaked. Relaxed. Fell

asleep.”“Whatever.”“Not that it’s any of your

business, but Dawson and Ididnothinginthebathtub.HewatchedfootballwhileItooka bath. Actually, two verylongbaths.Like,itwashours.Then we got hungry, so weordered room service, andthen I took another bath.Alone.”“And then you spent the

night with him. Or did yousleepinthebathtubtoo?”“Um...”“Nevermind. I don’twant

toknow.”Class starts, so I can’t talk

to him. I get my phone outsneakily—I’m learning—putit under my desk, and texthim.Me: I’m always alone

when I take a bath. It’s likemeditatingforme.Iclosemyeyes.Feelthewarmwateronme. Let my mind wandereverywhere or nowhere. It’slikemytime.Iloveitherebut

there isn't any ME time.We’reconstantlywithpeople.WhatDawsondidformewassweet. I am mad about thepostthough,andheknowsit.HottieGod:Youspentthe

night with him. I know whatthatmeans.Me: Can we hang out

tonightaftertutoring?Pleasedon’t bemad atme. I didn’tplan it. He surprised me. I

thought we were done,honestly.Hottie God: Sometimes I

hateyou.Me: Dawson never hates

me.Hottie God: Ever think

that’s cuz he doesn’t care asmuchasIdo?Me: I don’t know what I

think.HottieGod::(

Me:Couldwedotutoring

withfoodtonight?HottieGod:Offsiteormy

room?Me: My room. We never

hang out in my room. I’llorder Chinese? Maybe youcanseethestars.

HottieGod: WillKatiebe

there?Me:Nope:)

Hottie God: You gonna

ditchmeagain?Me:No.Ipromise.

HottieGod:Pinkieswear?

Me:Absolutely.

Mostimportanttoyou.Dance

Right after dance, Peytonsticks her head in the lockerroom and says, “Keatyn, canyou please come in MissTina’sofficewithme?”“Uh,sure.”

Peyton shuts the doorbehindus.Shit.AmIintrouble?MissTinashufflesthrough

some papers then she looksup at me and says, “It hascome to my attention thatyou’re currently failingEnglish.You know if you’refailing, you don’t get todance.”“Ididn’tknowthat.”“Weexplained it toyouat

the beginning of the year.

How you have to keep yourgrades up, just like all thesports.”“Oh,yeah.”I feel like I could cry.My

facegetsallhot.Idon’tknowwhat to say. I’m soembarrassed. I’ve neverfailedanything.“So, today is Monday. If

you want to perform at thegame this week, you’ll havetogetyourgradeupabovea70. You’ll still practice with

the team.You justwon’t gettoperform.”“Okay,”Isay,tryingnotto

cry. I can’t even believe I’min this situation. I havealwaysgottengoodgrades.“Do you have an English

test or homework coming upthat could help raise yourgrade by Friday?” Peytonasksgently.“We have a test on

Thursday.”“Study hard for it.You’ve

got a 68, so if you do well,you’llbringitupeasily.”“Okay.”MissTinaadds, “Youalso

might consider lesseningsome of your commitments.You’re in a lot ofextracurricular activities andseemtohaveanactivesociallife. You need to decidewhichofthosethingsismostimportanttoyou.”

Avoidingevil.4:45pm

Andonceagain.Someone spoke words to

me about one subject thatmakeme thinkaboutanothersubject.You need to decide which

of those things is mostimportanttoyou.It’s like the universe is

tellingmetochoose.ButI’mtootired.Igetinmyroom,dropmy

backpackonthefloor,andlieonmybed.I go to take my English

test,butIdon’thaveapencil.Only a pen. And the teacherwon’t let me take it with apen. She tellsme I should’vechosenmorewisely.Then I feel a hand rub

across my face. It’s very

relaxing. Something my dadused todo tomewhen Iwaslittle.He’d run his fingertipsacrossmyface,upthebridgeof my nose, across myforehead, down my cheek,andacrossmychin. It’s howhewouldgetmesettleddownandreadyforbed.Butwhatdoes thishave to

dowithEnglish?Islowlyopenmyeyes.Aidenissittingontheedge

of my bed running his handacrossmy face.He smiles atme.“Can we forget tutoring,

andyoucanjustrubmyfaceforever?”“Forever,huh?”“It feels good. It’s an

expression.I justmeant, like,for a while, before we getstarted.”I assume he’s going to

comply, so I close my eyes.He runs his fingertip across

my eyelid, probably totallydestroying my eye shadow,but I don’t care. I keep myeyesclosedandleanmyheadtoward him. As he runs hishand across my hair, mymind flashes to forever, himtaking care ofme like this. Ihate that I can see foreverwith him so clearly, but Ihavenoideawhattodoabouthimtoday.“Are you dating Chelsea

too?”Iblurtout,notopening

myeyes.His hand stops. “No,

why?”“Because you hung out

with her Friday night. Iwasn’t with Dawson. Youcould’ve...”“Yeah, I could have. But

youwereupset.Ididn’twanttoupsetyouanymore.”“And you were talking to

herattheCavetoo.”He leans down, kisses my

forehead,mycheek,andthen

my nose. “I know you haveunfinished whatever withDawson, and I don’twant topush you. Are you aboutfinishedwithDawson?”“I don’t know.He’s really

sweettome.”“Look,Idon’tknowifthis

isgonnawork.”See. He can’t be my

foreverlove.He’s already giving up on

me.Onus.

AndIdon’tknowwhy,butlittle tears spring up in myeyes, run down the sides ofmyface,andintomyears.Actually,Idoknowwhy.It

hurtstohearhimsayit.“What’swrong?”“I’vejusthadabadday,”I

lie. Well, not lie, exactly,becauseIhavehadabadday.My blurting out the EiffelTower comment thismorning.Dawson’sFacebookthing.Aidenbeingmadabout

it. The soccer workout fromhell. Failing English.Choosing a pen when Ishould’ve chosen a pencil,and,now,Aidengivingup.“Whathappened?”heasks

in a way that sounds like hehas the power to fixanything.Aiden is so far in my

heart.HowdidIletthathappen?I’vebeentryingsohardnot

tolethimin.

“I’m failing English. I’mgonnagetkickedoffdanceifI don’t do reallywell onmytestThursday.”“I know how you feel. I

went through that all lastyear.Thepressure and threatof being kicked off all myteams because of French.ThankgoodnessMissPralinewas nice and let me do justenough extra credit to keepme at about a seventy, but itwas so close, always. I did

havetositouttwobasketballgames,though.Itsucked.”“Ijusthavesomuchgoing

on.It’shardtofindtimeforitall.”“Okay, so this week,

insteadofyou tutoringme inFrench, I’m going to tutoryouinEnglish.”“We still have to do our

French homework, but that’dbenice.Whyareyousonicetome,Aiden?”I wait for him to say

something incredibly sweet.Smile that blazing smile atme.Kissme.“Well,Ineedyououtthere

dancing, shaking thosepompoms for me and theteam.”Oh. Wow. He only needs

me to dance for him whilehe’splayingfootball?Meandseventeenothergirls.NotreallywhatIwantedto

hear.Isigh,“Oh.”

“So, when is the Chinesecoming?”I grimace. “I forgot to

order it. I’msosorry. Icamein my room, dropped mybackpack, lay down and,well,youwokemeup.”“Sorry.”“No, it was the best way

evertobewokenup.”Hesmilesatme.LikeIjust

gavehimthebestcomplimentintheworld.“You haven’t been getting

enoughsleep.”“Iknow,lastnightI...”He doesn’t let me finish.

Heimmediatelyflicksofftheswitch.Iused towish that I could

flip the switch. Whatever itwas that made him sopowerfulandattractivetome.So I could speak withoutstuttering, laugh withoutsounding like a hyena, andthink without getting allfoggy.

But I won’t ever wish forthatagain.Idon’tlikeseeingitflipped.He slumps a little and

frowns at me. “You knowwhat? I’m hungry; you’retired.Why don’t I just go tothe café, and you can getsome more sleep. See yalater,Boots.”Andheleaves.Madatmeagain.LikeItoldAnnieearlier,at

least I know where I stand

with Dawson. With Aiden Ifeel like I’m standing inquicksand, slowly beingsucked under, while he’sstanding off to the edge,watchingme,tryingtodecideif he should letme suffocateor tossme the rope that’s inhishands.Ipickupmyphoneandsee

that Grandma replied to myemail.Keatyn—

Since I’m not sure whatyou’re talking about inreference to two evils, I’mgoing to assume we aretalkingabout boys, seeingasyou asked about true loverecently. I hope you aredating nice young men, notany young hoodlums. I knowthebadboygivesgirlsthrills,but he also usually breaksyourheart.Well, not always,your grandfather was a bitornery when I met him.

Anyway, I haven’t repliedbecause I’ve been trying todecidewhat to tell you.MaeWest said, “When choosingbetweentwoevils,Iliketotrythe one I’ve never triedbefore.”I say, skip the evils and

findaniceboy.Onewhowilltreatyoulike

gold.Loveyou,Grandma

Grandmadoesn’trealizeit,but she just gave me totallyconflictingadvice.IfIfollowMae’s advice, Iwould choseAiden.IwanttochoseAiden.ButIneedhimtochooseme.Andisthatselfish?Maybe.

ButIhavetotakecareofme.Takecareofmyheart.IfItakeGrandma’sadvice,

I’dpickDawson.Dawsonisanice youngman.He’s sweet,andhewon’thurtme.Iknowhe already hurtme once, but

he doesn’t have the samepower over me that Aidendoes. That I-see-my-life-in-20-years-and-he’s-still-in-itpower.I wish Aiden would just

stop wooing me and throwme over his shoulder like acaveman, say I’m his, anddrag me back to his caveforever.ThenI’dknow.Right now we’re in this

awkward, half friends, halfstudy buddies, and half

boyfriend-and-girlfriendplace.Wow,evenmymathskills

havegonetoshit.Because, clearly, three

halvesdonotmakeawhole.Okay. This week is all

aboutstudying.Allaboutme.I’m going to avoid bothDawson and Aiden. I’mgoingtobetoobusystudyingtodealwith them.That’smyplan.I’llavoidevilalltogether.

Katie, Annie, and Maggie

come bounding into theroom.“Hey, we’re getting ready

to go to the café. Wannacome?”Maggieasks.“I don’t feel very good. I

think I’m just gonna stayhere.”“Do you want us to bring

you back something?”Annieaskssweetly.Katie butts in. “Are you

sick?”“Or did relaxing with

Dawson wear you out?”Maggiejokes.“I think maybe a little of

both,butIsortafeelsick.”Theyheadouttodinner.AmIlovesick?IcallRiley.Heanswers.“Hey.”“Whatareyoudoing?”“EatingdinnerwithDallas,

Aiden, Logan, Parker, andsome other guys. Where are

you?”“IthinkI’mgettingsick.”“Does Riley need to bring

yousomesoup?”“I’d love that. I was

supposed to tutor Aiden, buthe’s mad at me, and I thinkhehatesmeagain.Wait.Whyare you sitting with Aiden?Youneversitwithhim.”“Idon’tknow,justdid.”“Oh. If you wanna bring

mesomething,that’dbecool.Mythroatkindahurts,soI’m

not that hungry, but I sortaam.”“I’llfindsomething.Seeya

inafew,baby.”Igowashmy face,puton

somecomfypajamas, and liebackdown.I start dreaming I’m in a

car that’s crashing at anintersection.Riley sits on my bed. I

open my eyes, but it’s notRiley. It’s Aiden, holding a

styrofoambowl and a plasticspoon.I cover my face with my

hand.“You weren’t supposed to

come.Whyareyouhere?”He gently grabs my hand

anduncoversmyface.He leans in and kissesmy

forehead. “Riley said you’resick.Youdon’tlooksick.”I’m now positive he can

read my mind. Does he justkeep getting more powerful

bythefreakingday?Butifhecan read my mind, whydoesn’t he know that I’mcrazyabouthim?“Mythroathurts.”“You’re tired. You don’t

getenoughsleep.”“You didn’t answer my

question.Whyareyouhere?”“Why does Riley call you

baby?”“I don’t know. He just

does. He thinks he needs toprotectme.Likeabigbrother

orsomething.”“Baby is what you call

your girlfriend. Not yourfriend.”“Why does itmatter?And

youstillhaven’ttoldmewhyyou’rehere.”“Ibroughtyousoup.”“Yeah,Iseethat,butwhy?

You left mad at me. Butyou’re alwaysmad atme, soI’m used to it. You wannaknowtherealreasonI’mstillseeing Dawson? That’s why.

AndIknowmysayingthatisgonna make you mad again,so you might as well takeyour soup and leave. You’regoingtoanyway.”He glares at me, his eyes

turning a pissed off shade offorestgreen.He sets the soup on my

nightstand andwalks outmydoor.IcallRileyanddon’teven

let him get out a “hey.”“WHATTHEHELL!?”

“Your throat seems to bebetter.Didthesouphelp?”“I haven’t eaten the soup.

Why the hell did you sendAiden?”“Hevolunteered. I thought

you’dlikeit.”“One: he and I were

supposed to have dinnertogether, but he gotmad andleft.Two:Ihadjusttakenoffall my makeup and put onpajamas because I thought itwas you coming. And three:

now he is mad at me again.Rileeeeeey, come over,please.”“I’m supposed to go hang

withAriela.”Idon’tsayanything. I just

letoutapathetichuff.“Fine,” he says. “I’ll be

rightthere.”A fewminutes later, he is

sittingonmybed.“She’spissedatmenow.”“Why?”

“CauseIcallyoubaby,andIjustditchedherforyou.”“Didn’t you tell her I’m

sick?”“Yeah, I don’t think that

mattered.”“I’m sorry. Just forget it;

goseeher.”Ibitemylipandstart to tear up. What iswrongwithme?Riley stares at me. “Scoot

over,” he says as he slidesonto my bed. I lay my headon his chest and hug him.

“Areyoureallysick?”“Mythroatisscratchy.”He rubs my back gently.

“Eatyoursoup.”“I think I lost what little

appetite I had when Aidenleft.Riley,didyoutellArielathatyoulikedherrightaway?Like,howdidsheknow?”“Baby, seriously, you

know Aiden likes you. Whydoyoukeepquestioningit?”“Because he’s questioning

it.”

“Why do you think he’squestioningit?”“Ihavenoclue.”“Because you are still

seeingDawson,maybe?”“No way I’m giving up

Dawson for someone whodoesn’t even know what hewants.”“Well, that makes sense, I

guess.Why don’t you try toget some sleep. I’m surethings will be better in themorning.”

Tuesday,October25thEnglishismynewlover.6:30am

Igetupearly,seeit’sraining,and decide to improve thedreary day with a cute newuniform look. I put on thenavy plaid pleated skirt, abright yellow blouse withribbon flowers down thefront,thenavyblazer,andtallHunterlace-uprainbootsinabrightmarigold.Overit,Iadda short gabardine Burberrybelted trench coat, grab abright yellow umbrella, andthen head to the café for a

heartybreakfast.I purposely sit by myself

and start studying English.The test is in two days.Andfor two days, I am on a no-boydiet.NoAiden.NoDawson.JustmeandEnglish.English is my new lover.

I’ll be likeoneof thosegirlswho gets all obsessed over aboywhentheyfirstmeet,andshe posts all sorts of loveyshit on her Facebook. Like

Ariela did with Riley. Allthat, Oh, baby I love you,heartsandshit.I realize I just sounded

very cynical. When did Ibecome such a cynic aboutlove?Oh yeah, when Brooklyn

screwedthegirlinthecabanaand when Dawson dumpedmeforWhitney.N0!Stopthat!Nothinkingaboutboys!English.English.English!

I go back to studying mynotes.Aiden slides into the seat

across fromme. I don’t havetolookuptoknowit’shim,Ifeel the pull of my heartpractically being sucked outofmybody.“You feeling better?” he

askssweetly.I look up at him. He’s

wearing a deep blue oxfordwith contrasting paisleyfabric inside the collar. A

navyblazer.Andapurpleandbluepaisley tie,partially tiedaround his neck. Hisshoulders still have littledrops of rain on them. Helooks like he does afterfootballpractice,hishairwet,slightly messed up. Butinstead of being sweaty andgross,he’salldressedup.Thecombinationofthetwomakehim look unbelievably,adorablysexy.Iwanttojumpover the table and into his

arms.But insteadIsay,“Yeah, I

went to bed early. So, um,look Aiden. I can’t dotutoringtonight.Ireallyneedtofocus.”He tilts his head atme. “I

toldyou,I’llhelpyoustudy.”“I wish you could, but

lately all we do is fight, andit’s distracting. I really havetostudy.”Helooksmad.Startstoget

uptoleave.

“Whydoyouseemmad?Ithought you of all peoplewould understand howimportant it is that I get agoodgradeonthistest.”“It feels like you’re

pushingmeaway.”“I’m not. I just have to

pass. I’ve never failed atanything.” Exceptrelationships, I think. “ButI’ll make you a deal.Thursdaynightyoucancometo rehearsal and study with

me.We’ll talk. Maybe workonourframework.”“Ourframework?”“Yeah, I want to get to

know you before I buildsomething that is going tocollapse in a heap like myceramicsproject.”“Youhaveanunusualway

ofthinking,butI’dlikethat.Idon’tthinkIwanttocollapseintoaheap.”

Afierykiss.6pm

Ibarricademyselfinaprivatestudy room and try not tothink about when I was herewith Dawson. I’m makingnotecards and flash cards,usingahighlighter,anddoinganythingelseIcanthinkoftohelp me study, when I get acallfromDawson.

“What’sup?”Isay.“Whereareyouhiding?”“Library.”“Privatestudyroom?”“Yeah. What did you

need?”There’sabeepbeeptelling

methatthecalldropped.A few minutes later,

there’saknockonthedoor.IpeekoutandseeDawson.“There you are,” he says,

pushingthroughthedoorandeyeing the jean skirt I

changed into after school.“Damn, Keatie, you lookedsexy today, but tonight youjustlookhot.”“Ihavetostudy.”“Yeah, Iknow.Weshould

study fairy tales and happyendings,”hesays,pullingmeintohisarmsandgivingmeafierykiss.“It’shappilyeverafter.Not

happyendings.”Heshrugs.“Samething.”Uh, no. So not the same

thing.He unbuttons my blouse

and slides his hand up myskirt.AndIlikeit.Shameonme,butIdo.Because it turns out that

English is not a very goodlover.Prettyquickly,I’mhotand

botheredandkissingDawsonrecklessly.Iwanthim.Iwanttofeelwanted.When he pulls a condom

out of his pocket and says,“Nomess,”Ipracticallyripitoutofhishandstoopenit.Hepicksmeupandpushes

meagainstthedoor.It’s over quickly. Both of

us breathing heavily andquickly getting our clothesbackintoplace.“Everytimeissogood,”he

says. “So hot. I’m halfwayafraid to do it with anyoneelse.”

“Why’sthat?”“I’m afraid it won’t be as

good.”“It’ll be good if you care

about them, I think. Andmaybe if it’s just for fun itwill be good too. I’m notreally sure about all that.Dawson, you’ve grown upsince you and Whitney. Itsounds like you did it a lotthis past summer. You’vegotten better, or moreconfident,probably.”

“I think I could do itwithyou forever. Even if wemarriedotherpeople,I’dstillwant to do it with you.Speaking of that. How arethingsgoingwithAiden?”“After your posting about

thebathtub,youmean?”“Yeah, sorry about that,”

hesayswithagrin.I shake my head at him.

“Youarenotsorry.”“You’reright.I’mnot.”“What happened to you

just wanting to go tocollege?”“That’s months away.

Months that we could behavingfun.”

Inthemoonlight.

8pmLoganisonstagepracticinga

really funny hot tub scene.I’mdonewiththefirstpartofit and am standing on thestage with Jake. There’s askinny black curtain in frontofus tohideusuntil theendofthescene.I watch Logan make out

like crazy—in a funny way,lots of exaggerated handsrubbing down each other’sbacks, heads smooshedtogetherandmovinginafakepassionatekiss—withtherest

of the contestants. Beforeeach one leaves, he tells hershe is the girl he wants tomakehisprincess.The best part of the scene

isthattheprophottubsitsupofftheground.Therearefakewater bubbles in the tub.Eachcontestantpopsupfromunderthewaterandthenpopsdown when the contestantschange.What'sreallyfunnyisthe first time one of thecontestants goes down you

think she’s going under thewatertodonaughtythingstohim,butthenyoulaughwhenyou realize it’s a scenechange.And Logan plays it up by

smirkingattheaudience.After the last contestant

leaves, his butler brings himchampagne. He leans backandsays,“They’reallinlovewith me. I’m wooing themwith my words and my lips.My brother doesn’t stand a

chance. His being in lovewith the cheerleader hasworkedbetterthanIcould’veplanned. She’s ignoring him,andhe’signoringalltheothercontestants.It’sbrilliant.”Thestagedarkensonthem

as the thincurtain in frontofus goes up and a spotlightshinesonJakeandme.Hereachesout,takingboth

ofmyhandsinhis.“I’msorryIdidn'ttellyou,butforonceIwanted a girl to fall in love

withme. Justme,” theGoodPrincepleads.Of course, earlier in the

play, theBadPrince toldmycharacter thathisbrother isatotal player and that he saysthattoallthegirls.“Yourbrother toldmeyou

saythattoallthegirls.”“Don't you believe in true

love?Thefairytalekind?”heimplores, pulling my handsdramaticallytohischest.“Yeah,Ido,butnotwitha

liar.”I run away from him, the

spotlight and little moonfollowingmetothehottub.“Hey, slow down there,

Boots,” the Bad Prince saysto me, totally straying fromthescript.“Boots?”Iask.“Yeah, when I first met

you, youwerewearing thosecutelittlecowboyboots.”My real life flashes before

myeyes.

IwalkuptothehottublikeI'm scripted to do, sit down,slipmybootsoff,andputmyfeetinthehottub.“Do you believe in true

love?”Iaskwithasigh.TheBadPrinceknowsnow

that he's in trouble. That I’mstill in lovewith his brother.Whichputshisplantogetallthecontestants to fall in lovewith him and reject hisbrotherindangeroffailing.While I'mstaringdreamily

atthemoon,thebutlersneakson stage andwhispers in theBad Prince’s ear. “Sire, thisonecouldruinourplan.”He shoes the butler away,

swimsovertome,andreplieswith,“Ofcourse,Ibelieveinit.” Then he pops out of thetubandwalkswithmeinthemoonlight. He says onecheesy pickup line afteranother. How my eyes arebeautiful. How I must havefallen from heaven. How it

was instant. That it was fatethatImethisbrotherandthathe lied to me. Because itbrought us together. “You’remy one true love. Can't youfeel it? In here?”He touchesmy chest, reminding me ofBrooklyn. “You're the onlycontestant I didn’t kisstonight. Yet you’re the onlyoneIwantedtokiss.Iwanttokiss you for the rest of mylife.”He gently pushes my hair

behindmyearandkissesmycheek.“That’s perfect. Logan,

love your improvisednickname for her. Keep thatinthere,”ourdirectorsays.I sit down in my seat. I

want to yell at Logan fordepartingfromthescript.Forincluding something sopersonal in the play. But Ican’t, because I’m realizinghowalikemyreallifeandthe

playare.“I’mtiredofbeingtheBad

Prince,”Logansays,ploppingdownnexttome.“You want to quit the

play?”“No. Imean in real life. I

missMaggie.Mypridehatesher, but the rest of me stillloves her. Last year, all myfriends told me that it wascrazy. That we’d never lastthroughhighschool,letalonecollege.Evenmyparentssaid

itwasjustpuppylove.AndIguess they were right. Wedidn’tmake it.But I'mnevergoingtofindanothergirllikeher. And it's making mesick.”“Lovesick,” I say with a

sigh.“Yeah.”“Whydidyou justcallme

Boots? Is that your way oftelling me that Aiden is theBadPrinceinreallife?”“Aiden is the only one of

myfriendswhotoldmeifshewasmytruelove,we'dmakeit. Through high school.Throughcollege.Hebelievesinit.SpeakingofAiden.Whyisn’theherestudying?”IpointattheEnglishnotes

I’ve yet to look at sincerehearsal started and say,“Englishismynewlover.”He laughs. “Not doing

well?”“Failing.IfIdon’tdowell

on the testThursday, Iwon’t

beabletodanceatthegame.”Logannodsandstudieshis

fingernails.Ionlygetthroughtwonotecardsbeforeheleansback, stretches, and says,“Screwingrandomgirlsinthehottuboflifeisgettingold.”“But casual sex can be

fun.”“Once you've experienced

sex with meaning, the restnever feels the same. Nomatterhowhardyoutry.”“I had that with the guy I

waswithbeforeIcamehere.”“TheKeatsguy?”“Youknowabouthim?”“Aiden toldmeabouthow

he quotedKeats the night ofthe Welcome Back dance.Howyoukindafreakedout.”“When I came here, we

sortofbrokeup,butthensortof didn’t. I was confused.Loveisconfusing.”“I’lldrinktothat,”hesays,

pulling a flask with a sharkonitoutofhisbackpack.He

hides it behind the seats infront of us and bends downreally low to take a drink.“Youknow,whatreallysucksis that in real life, the BadPrincewinsa lotof thetime.A lot of guys just tell girlswhattheywanttohear.”He looks up at the fake

moonandsighs.“Iwanttobethe one in the moonlightgettingthekissattheend.”

Wrappedaroundherlittle

finger.11:30pm

AfterKatiegoestosleep,I’mstill thinking about whatLogan said, so I go into thestairwellandcallmymom.“He-llow!” Gracie

screams.“Hi,Gracie.How are you,

sweetie?”She gives a little sigh.

“GoodKiki?”“Yes,howisthepuppy?”“Bad. Very bad. She

stealed my kisses. Mommysays chocolate not forpuppies. Puppies eat it. Theydie.ButKikinodie.”“Well,that’sgood.”“Bad Kiki ate my purple

purse.Imadather.”

“Well,youhaveabirthdaycoming up. Maybe you cangetanewone.”“Graciebethree.”“Iknowyouwill.You’rea

biggirl.”“Gracie wanna make

sandycastles wiff myBrookwynandmyKiki.”Forget the damage boys

have done to my heart. I’mprettysureGraciejustcausedittosplitintwo.“Metoo,Gracie.Imissthe

beach.Mommysaidyouhavea really big backyard whereyoucanrunandplay.”“Averykickedme.”“Whydidshedothat?”“Gracie took hers chalk.

Good Kiki come to myparty?”I close my eyes tightly,

tryingtowardawaythetears.“I can’t, sweetie. But I

knowyou’llhavefun.”“Gracie hate Kiki

’venture.”

“CanItalktoMommy?”“No!”Thenclick.Icallback.Sheanswers,screaming.“I

hate’ventures.IhateKiki!”“Gracie!”IhearEmeryyell

ather.“Hateisabadword!”“Yeah,” Ivery says. “I’m

goingtotellMommy.”I hear a commotion.

Screaming. Crying. Thephonedropping.Gracie apparently picks it

backup.Shescreamsintothephone again. “Gracie hatebirffdays!”Then,click.

Isitonthestairsandcry.Then I realize that I may

not be able to give her me,but I can get her somethingthatshewants.IdialBrooklyn.“Hey,Keats.”“Hey,”Isaywithasniffle.“Areyoucrying?”

“Kindof.Gracie’sbirthdayis coming up and she’s madI’m not going to her party.She wants us to build sandycastleswithher.”“Imiss that. I love all the

girls, but Gracie always hadmewrapped around her littlefinger.”“Metoo.She’ssoboldand

fearless. I wish I was morelikeher.”“Keats, I’ve seen you

conquer waves way above

your skill level. You andGraciearealotalike.”“B, would you mind

sendinghersomethingforherbirthday?”“Iwasalreadyplanningon

it.”“Really?”“Of course. I’ve also

started researching stalkingcases.”“Really?” He continues to

surpriseme.“Yes. I want you back in

my life, Keats. I need youbackinmylife.”“My life is so messed up,

B. Just when I think I’mgetting somewhere, I realizethat all I’ve done is screw itupmore.”“Takecontrol.”“Whatdoyoumean?”“Iguessmaybeallthishas

made me cynical. Or maybeit’sbecause I’mnot smokingmuchanymore.But I’mtiredof relying on fate. I’m going

tofigureawayoutofthis.”“IsuggestedtoGarrettthat

wehireahitmanandbedonewithit.”B laughs. “I suggested the

same thing. How’s the playgoing?”“Our first performance is

inacoupleweeks.”“IwishIcouldcomewatch

you.”“Iwishyoucouldtoo.I’ve

been following your surfing.You’ve been doing really

well.”“Yeah. Getting second in

the last two tournaments hasbeen amazing. But now, Iwantfirst.”“Has my laid-back surfer

boygotacompetitivestreakIdidn’tknowabout?”“Imissthatthemost.”“Misswhat?”“Hearing you call me

yours.”Myphonebuzzes. I pull it

away from my ear and see

thatMomiscalling.“That’s my mom on the

other line. I should probablytakeit.”“Sweetdreams,Keats.”IclickovertoMom.“Hey,Mom.”“Keatyn,areyouokay?”“Yeah,I’mfine.She’stwo.

She doesn’t understand,” Isniffle.“Sweetie, don’t cry. She

doesn’thateyou.”“This isn’t fair,Mom. I’m

missing everything. Everynew word. Every inch theygrow. Every stupid thing thedog does. I can’t do thisanymore. I love it here, butI’m living a lie. I’m lying toeveryone.Mostofall,myself.I’mtryingtomakeanewlife,butIdon’twantto.Iwantmyoldlifeback.I’mgoingtodosomethingdrastic.Ican’ttakeitanymore.”“What do you mean,

drastic?”

“Do you know anyone inthemob?”“Themob?”“I want to have Vincent

killed.”“Keatyn! No. You can go

to jail for that. And you’dnever see the girls if thathappened.”“Howmany yearswould I

getifIgotcaught?”“Idon’tknow.”“Idon’teither.Butwhatif

Ididn’tgetcaught?Andeven

if Idid,I thinkifIexplainedit they would understand. IthinkI’dgetalightsentence.And then I’dbeout ina fewyearsforgoodbehavior.AndIhavemoney.Whycouldn’tIhire the best lawyer and getoutofit?AtleastifIwenttojail,I’dknowhowlongIhadbefore it was over. I thinkthat’s what’s killing me.WhatwillIdowhenIgetmylife back? B and I made up.Like, we’re talking. Not

fighting. And I really lovedhim,Mom.Ireallydid.AndIwas so dumb. I tried tochangehim.”“Honey, you’re young.

You’re going to makemistakes. Boys are a part ofthat. But they aren’t life-changingmistakes.”“Like becoming friends

withVincentwas?”“Don’t you dare blame

yourselfforthis.It’snotyourfault. Even if you hadn’t

become friends, hewould’vebeen obsessed with you.There were photos frombeforeyoumet.”“Yeah,maybe.”“Keatyn, Gracie is three.

She won’t remember if youmiss her party. We’ll makesure it’s fun. Just send her apresent. And maybe we candoavideochat.”“IalsothinkI’mlovesick.”“Lovesick?”“Yes, oneminute I think I

should just choose Dawson.The next minute, I think IwanttobewithAiden.Itwasbad enough when it was asortoflovetriangle.NowthatI’m talking to B again, IrealizehowmuchImisshim.Now I’m in a love rectangle.Or a rhombus. Whatever.And it’s making me sick. Ievenhaveasorethroat.”“IwishIwas there to take

care of you like I did whenyou were little. Do you

remember what we alwaysdid?”“Watched The Little

Mermaid and ate popcorn inbed.”“Let me guess. The last

boy you are with is the onethat you think you like themost?”“Yes.”“That’sbecauseit’sthelast

thingyoufelt.Youcan’tpingpong like that. Someone isgoing to get hurt. Probably,

you.”“Haven’t you ever been

with someone and wonderedif you should be withsomeone else? Youpracticallyhad sexwithyourhotcostarinToMaddieWithLove. You can’t tell me youdidn’tfeelathing.”“My heart didn’t feel a

thing. It’s late. You need togettosleep.Iloveyou.”“I love you too,Mom . . .

Mom?”

“What?”“Givethegirlsbighugsfor

me.TommyandJamestoo.”“Iwill,sweetie.Iwill.”Ihangupandthink.Maybe she’s right. Maybe

it isn’t lovesickness.It’spingponging. Which is probablysomething like motionsickness. Only it causes youto question your feelings.Andthatmakesyoufeelsickallthetime.Like a never-ending

hangover.That’swhatthisis.It’sahottiehangover.Ialsothinkaboutwhatshe

didn’t say. What her bodyfelt.I trudge back to my room

andtrytogotosleep.My phone lights up the

room.B: You are always new.

The last of your kisses wasever the sweetest; the last

smile the brightest, the lastmovement the gracefullest.KeatsformyKeats.Iwanttobe the last of youreverythings.<3I stare up at the stars

glowing on my ceiling andthinkmyheadmightexplode.

Wednesday,October26thI’mnotperfect.

6:20pmToday, I am successful withEnglish as my new lover. I

study and avoid everyone.I’m in my room studyingduringdinnerwhenmyphonerings.I smile when I see who’s

calling.“Hey, Damian! How’s

Japan?”“Crazy.Different.It’sbeen

quitetheexperience.Howareyou?Wehaven’ttalkedsinceMiami. Your friend, Riley,toldyouthatIcalled,right?”“Yeah, he told me. It was

so good to see you. To haveyousingmea lullaby.Imissthat.”“I didn’t know he would

come there. I never thoughthewould.”“I didn’t either. Did you

hear what he’s doing now?Thenationwidesearch?”“Yeah,Tommytoldme.”“You’ve been talking to

Tommy?”“He’s coming to Tokyo

next week to shoot a

commercial. We’re gonnahavedinner.”“That’sgreat.”“I talked to Brooklyn too.

He told me you two madeup.”“I’mnotperfect,Damian.”Damian laughs. “You just

nowfiguringthatout?”“Kinda. I blamed him for

everything that didn’t workbetween us. A lot of it wasmyfaulttoo.”“So do I need to kick his

ass?”That makes me laugh.

“You planning on seeinghim?”“Actually,yeah,that’swhy

I called. He’s in Japan thisweekend. Surfing Tahara.Our concert is in Kyoto onFriday.They’reonlyacouplehoursapart.”“Gracie’s birthday is

comingup.”“I know. I bought her a

huge stuffed Hello Kitty. I

thinkshe’lllikeit.”“Youdid?That’ssosweet.

Thankyou.”“You don’t have to thank

me. I love Gracie. I mean,whocouldresistthatpout?”“No one can.” I laugh.

“You don’t need to kick B’sassanymore.CanIaskyouaquestionthough?”“Ofcourse.”“He says when this is all

over thathewants togiveusanotherchance.Doyouthink

Ishould?”“Ithinkthatalldependson

whereyouarewhenthisisallover.Rightnow,itbeingoverisn’tlookingtoogood.”“Iknow,butIneedtohang

ontothathope.It’swhatgetsmethrough,youknow?”“I know. What did you

decide to do forThanksgiving?”“I’dliketogotoTheCrab,

ifthat’sstillokay.”“I’ll let Dad’s assistant

know. She’ll make sureeverything is ready for you.Willyoubetherealone?”“Imentionedittoafriend,

but we haven’t talk about itsince.Soyeah,probably.”“I hate that you’ll be

alone.”“It’ll be okay. I’m looking

forwardtoit,actually.”“Well, the jury’s still out

on Brooklyn as far as I’mconcerned. I’ll let you knowifIhadtokickhisassornot.”

“Soundsgood.Tell himhiforme.AndknowthatIwishIwastherewithyouguys.”“We’llwishyouwere too.

Bye,Keats.”

Thursday,October27thI’mgettingjacked.English

Iletoutahugesighofrelief,walk to the teacher’s desk,and hand inmyEnglish test.I’m pretty sure I got a goodgrade.Dallas follows me out the

door. I look over and realizethatIhavetolookupathim.“Haveyougottentaller?”“Yeah,alittle.”“You’re taller than me

now. No wonder you eat somuch.”HepullsuphisEastbrooke

polo sleeve and flexes asurprisingly buff arm at me.“I’mgettingjackedtoo.”I squeeze his bicep.

“Damn.Youare.”“Oh, hey, there’s the love

god stalking you. See ya,Kiki.”“So, how was the test?”

Aidenasksme.“How do you know my

schedule?”“Ithinkyoutoldme.”“I don’t remember telling

you,”Itease.“Fine.Dallastoldme.”I raise my eyebrows at

him. “So you were talkingaboutme,huh?”He shakes his head as his

big hand cups my waist.“Maybealittle.”Electricityrunsthroughmy

blood, energizing me morethan aRedBull. Iwas tired,butnowI’mwideawake,myheartracing.“So?”Hegivesmywaista

littletickle.I giggle and move my

away, even though I don’treally want him to stoptouchingme.“IthinkIdidwell.English

has always been my bestsubject, but I forgot to studyfor a test the night I missedcurfew, when we weredancing,andItotallybombedit. Like, I got a 37. It killedmygrade.”“Soit’smyfault?”

I smile. “Well, now thatyoumentionit,Ithinkitis.”“Have lunch with me

today?”“Sure.”“Cool,”hesays.“Ineedto

stop in the office real quick.Meetmethere?”I tell him okay, then get a

textfromDawson.Dawson: You done with

theboy-freezoneyet?

Me:Yes:)TestisOVER!Dawson:Imissyou:(

Me:Andyou’rehorny?

Dawson: Very. You don’t

want me wandering aroundschool all horny and lonely,doyou?Me:Icouldhavesexwith

you every minute of everyday,andyou’dstillbehorny.

You’re a boy. And evenworse,you’reaJohnson.I’vebeen hearing about Cam’sexploitslastyearinthedancelockerroom.Dawson: You know I’m

not like him. Go to the JVgame with me tonight. I’llbringabigsweatshirt;)Me:Ihaverehearsal.

Dawson: Sit with me at

lunch?Me: Aiden already asked

meto.Dawson: That pisses me

off.Me: Would you prefer I

havelunchwithyouandstarthavingsexwithhim?Dawson:Goodpoint.

I get some food then sitdown next to Dallas. A fewminuteslater,Aidenjoinsus.“You coming towatch the

JVgametonight?”Rileyasksme.“Ican’t.Ihaverehearsal.”“Shoot. Forgot about that.

When do you have it thisweekend?”“Early Saturday morning

andthenSundaynight.”“Perfect. You’re coming

homewithme.”

“Whatfor?”“Saturdayismybirthday.”“Really? I didn’t know

that!”“Youknownow.”“IsArielacomingtoo?”“No, she has that cheer

competition. Sucks. Dawsonand I have to go home withourparentsafterthegameonFriday.Maybeyoucouldtakethetrainafterpractice?”“Of course. I wouldn’t

missit.”

“I’ll wait and come withher,”Dallasoffers.I pat his forearm and lean

myhead into the side of his.“That’ssweet,”Itellhim.“I have plans Friday

night,”hewhispers.Irollmyeyesathim.Then

IglanceatAiden.He doesn’t look happy.

AndI’mnotsurewhy.Butaswewalktogetherto

French,hedoesn’tsayawordtome.

Notmyfault.8:30pm

I come off the stage afterdoing one of my scenes andlookaroundforAiden.“I don’t think he’s

coming,”Logansaystome.“Whynot?”“Where are you going this

weekend?”

“Riley’sbirthdayparty.”“AtDawson’shouse.”“That’snotmyfault.”“You’redrivinghimnuts.”“Yeah,well, it’s only fair.

Hedrivesmenuts.Allhissexquizzes and the hammering,nailing, and screwing. Andhow am I supposed toconcentrate in French classwithhimalwaysbreathingonmy neck and whispering inmyear?”Logangrinsatme.

“What?”“Youreallylikehim.”“Don’t you have to get on

stageorsomething?”

Friday,October28th

Makeituptome.

2:57pm

Dawsontextsmerightbeforeschool’sout.Dawson: Meet me by the

field house. I need to talk toyou for a second before Ileaveforthegame.I walk down to the field

house and find Dawsonstanding outside waiting forme. He pulls me into a bigkiss,rightasAidenwalksoutofthedoor.

IseeAidenliterallyrecoil.I smack Dawson’s

shoulder.“Youwantedhimtoseeuskiss,didn’tyou?”Dawson smiles. “Who,

me? I justwanted tokissmygirl before I get on the bus.Nothingwrongwiththat.”“What’swrongwiththatis

I’mnotyourgirl.”“It’s also our anniversary.

OnemonthsinceIaskedyouout.”“We can’t have an

anniversary when we’re notgoingout,Dawson.Youcan’thave your cake and eat ittoo.”I’mpissed.But as I march away, I

realizethatI’mnobetterthanhe is. I’ve been wanting thesamething.I pack up my dance bag,

darken my makeup, andchange into tonight’s gameoutfit.Then I sit down and text

Aiden.Me: I’m sorry about that.

I’vegotsomuchonmymindand he just . . . I’m sorry,okay?HottieGod:Sorryyoudid

it,orsorryIsaw?Me:Both.

Hottie God: Not sorry

enoughtostopkissinghim.

Me:I’msorry!

Hottie God: I don’t think

it’senough:)Me:Whythesmileyface?

HottieGod: You’regoing

tomakeituptome.Me: And how am I

supposedtodothat?

Hottie God: The list isgoingtobelong.Me:Icanhandleit.

HottieGod:Mydemands:

#1.Sitnexttomeontheridehome.Me:Fine.

HottieGod: #2.Hangout

withmetonight.Late.

Me:Done.HottieGod:3.Don’tgoto

Riley’s.Me: I have to. It’s his

birthday.Hottie God: So that’s the

only reason you’re going?Shit.Nevermind.Idon’twantto compare the relationship.Regardless of what’s goingon with you and Dawson,

we’re taking it slow andgoingatourownpace.Me: We’re teenagers,

aren’t we supposed to fallheadoverheelsinlove?Hottie God: I did that 8

timeslastyear.Noneofthemworked.I’mtryingadifferentapproach.Me: Uh, okay. So any

otherdemands?

Hottie God: Yes. #4.

Pointsfordancestonight.Me:Deal:)AndAiden . .

.Ihaveademand.HottieGod: What?I’min

the position of power here,not you. You don’t getdemands.Me: I’m not much for

followingrules;)

Hottie God: No shit.

What’syourdemand?Me: Naw, I guess you’re

right,Ishouldplayfair.HottieGod:Tellme.

Me: Naaaaaw. Never

mind.HottieGod:Boots,NOW!

Me:Don’ttellmewhattodo.Hottie God: Fine. Don’t

tellme.ThenIwon’thave todoit.Ididn’twanttoanyway.Shit. What just happened?

He was supposed to beg metoknow.Me:Okay,thenIwon’ttell

youthatmydemandwasthatyouscorealotofpoints.For

me. Just for me. So you candancewithme.Holdmetight.But that’s okay. You don’twantto.Nevermind.Hottie God: You are

difficult to negotiatewith, doyouknowthat?Me: That depends. Are

yougivingintomydemand?HottieGod:Absolutely.

Me: I likegettingmyway:)HottieGod:Yeah,Iknow.

Me: I’m sending you a

mentalfour-leafclover.Goodlucktonight,Aiden.Hottie God: I gotta go

now.Ihaveapre-gameritualI need to follow. It helps meconcentrate.Seeyouafterthe

game:)

Overandoveragain.11:15pm

I’m sittingwithAiden in theverybackofoneofthebuses.Since Dawson went homewith his parents after thegame, I didn’t have toworry

aboutanydrama.Onthewayto the games, the footballteam,band,cheerleaders,andspirit squad, all have to ridein different buses. Mostlybecause the football teamalways leaves before the restof us, so they can warm up.After the game, we all leaveatthesametime,soitgetsallmixedup.“So,weneed to talkabout

sex.”Aidensays.“You wanna talk dirty?” I

tease, hoping to avoid thissubject. Because I know sexisn’t what he wants to talkabout.HewantstotalkaboutmysexwithDawson.“Maybelater.”“So, you had a good

night,” I tell him. Please lethimbedistracted.Please.“It doesn’t help the team

when the quarterback won’tthrow to a guy that’s wideopen.”“Doyou think thatwason

purpose?”“Hell, yeah, it was on

purpose.Add to that his twointerceptions. We’re luckythat we got down closeenough for me to kick allthosefieldgoals.”“Five goals. Fifteen points

and a win. Although, that’snotverymanydances.”Aiden runs his finger

acrossmypalm.Imovetokisshim.“Ow!”Isay,ashereactsto

my sudden movement bybumping his head hard intomine.“Damn, Boots, I managed

to get through the gamewithout a scratch. Now yougive me a concussion whileI’monthebus.”I lean back, holding my

eyebrow and studying him.“I’msorry.”He gently pulls my hand

awayfrommyeyebrow,leansin,andkissesit.Rightontop

of the big ugly bump I canfeelforming.I think he felt it with his

lips because he moves hisfaceawayandgentlyrunshisfinger across the top of it.“I’m just teasing you. I’mfine, but your eyebrow isswelling up. Let me getsomething.”He slides out of our seat,

walkscarefullyuptheaisletothe front of the bus, grabs acoupleofwaterbottlesoutof

acooler,andwalksback.He holds the cold bottle

againstmyeyebrow.“I think the kiss worked

better,” I murmur, holdingmybreath,andhopinghewillkissme.He moves the bottle away

andexaminesmybrow.“Youmightberight.”I breathe out right before

heleansinandkissesme.Noton the eyebrow, but on mylips.

I don’t even remember

anything else from the longbusridebacktoschool.Therewas nothing but feelingAiden’s hand holding mine.Feelinghisperfect lips touchmine.Overandoveragain.Bythetimewegetbackto

school,it’spastcurfew,sohejust tells me good night asKatieandIheadtoourdorm.Katie sits on her bed,

bouncing slightly. “I had so

muchfuntonight.”“YousatbyBryce.”“Iknow.He’sseriouslythe

nicestboy I’veevermet.Wetalkedandtalkedandtalked.Idon’tevenknowwhatallwetalked about, but there wasnever a lull. Or thoseawkward silences when youdon’tknowwhat tosay.Onetime,heaccidentallybrushedmy hand. And I got thesegoosebumps all the way upmyarm.Ireallylikehim.We

have to go to the partytonight.”“The party? I didn’t know

therewasaparty.”“Sure there is. Aiden and

Bryce’srooms.Likealways.”“Oh.”“Why do you seem upset?

Youliketoparty.”Iputonafakesmile.“Ido,

but Aiden didn’t mention aparty.”She frowns. “But you sat

next to him the whole way

home. Didn’t he ask you tocome?”“No,”Isay.We agreed to points for

dances.Andnowhe’shavinga party? Did he change hismind?“Areyougoing?”“Probably not. I’m tired. I

haverehearsalearlyand thenIhavetocatchthetraintogotoRiley’s.”Her phone buzzes with a

text. She smiles. “It’s

Bryce.”I go in my closet, feeling

likeIwanttocry.Instead, I focus on my

clothes. When I’m finishedpacking, Katie is going outthewindow.“Are you sure you don’t

wanttocome?”“Yeah,I’msure.I’mgoing

tobed.”Ithrowonmypajamasand

liedowninbed.My phone buzzes, but I

ignore it. I don’t want toknow. I don’t want to hearsome lame excuse for whythere’s a party in his room.Whyhedecidednot todancewithme.A few minutes later,

there’s a knock on mywindow. I cover my headwithmysheetandpretendnottohear.My window opens and

Aiden pulls the sheet offmyface.

“Why didn’t you answeryour phone or come to thewindowwhenIknocked?”“Maybe I was asleep,” I

replycoolly.“What’swrong?”“Nothing’s wrong. I need

to sleep and you shouldprobably get back to yourparty.”He sits on my bed, sighs,

and runs his fingers throughhishair.Ihatewhenhedoesthat.It

makeshimlookevencuter.“I didn’t know about the

party. Everyone justassumed.”“Whatever.”“Iwanttodancewithyou.”“Notenough. I’mgoing to

sleep. You can let yourselfout.”Ipullthesheetovermyhead.He pulls the sheet back

down. “Is there any reasonwhywecan’tdancehere?”“I’minmypajamas.”

“I’m okay with that. Didyou notice that when I gotyour phone out of jail I putour29-songplaylistonit?”“Youdid?”“Yeah. So, we’re alone.

Wehavemusic.”Helooksupatmyceiling.“Weevenhavestars.Please?”Iletoutahuff.“Youaren’t

goingtoletmegotosleepifIdon’t,areyou?”He gives me an adorable

grin.“Nope.”

“Fine.”He grabs my phone, pulls

up a playlist I didn’t know Ihad, turns the volume onreally low, and pullsme intohisarms.Itrytobestiffatfirst.But

Idissolveintoapileofmushanytimehetouchesme.Heputshisforeheadgently

againstmine and swayswithme.After a couple songs, he

says, “So, Boots, I was

wondering if you would bemy escort for the CompassCup. Wear my jersey. Walkmeoutonthefield.Gotothebanquet with me. Be myluckycharm?”I get a pained look onmy

face.Shit.“Um...”“Dawson already asked

you,didn’the?”“Yeah, but he said it was

justforseniors.”Aidenpurseshislips.“I’m

sure he knew it’s for varsity

starters, just like it is everyyear.”“I don’t know . . .” I start

tosay.He closes his eyes tightly

then glances at my phone.“Yeah.Hey,Ibettergetbackto my room. Make sure it’snotgettingtrashed.”“Dawson didn’t askme to

gotothebanquetwithhim.Icouldbeyourdateforthat.” He pats me on the back

andsays,“Uh,yeah,sure.See

yalater,Boots.”Then he bounds out my

window.Andhe didn’t even letme

finishmy frickin’ sentence. Iwas going to say, I don’tknow, it’s hard since Ialreadysaidyes,butIwanttowearyourjersey.BecauseIdowant towear

Aiden’sjersey.Iwoulddietowearit.Every time I think we

mighthaveabreakthrough,it

endslikethis.Andthissucks.

Saturday,October29thMentallyunstable.11am

DallasandIareonthetrain.“Did you have fun last

night?”Dallas grins like a cat that

atethecanary.“Idid.”“Withwhichgirl?”“Chelsea.”“You seem like you’re

kinda into her. In more thanjust a hooking up kind ofway.”“Naw. We’re having fun.

I’mstilltalkingtoothergirls.Not ready to make a choice

yet.”“Oh, so why is that okay

foryou?Butyoukeeptellingmethatdatingmorethanoneguyisn’tgoingtowork.”“Because my heart isn’t

involved.Yoursis.”“Maybe I don’t want my

heartinvolved.”“But it is.You likeAiden.

You’re afraid, though. Andthat’s understandable. Youfall in love, you get hurt. Itmakes it hard to fall again.

You should stop fighting it.Decide if youwant to go forloveorsettleforhotsex.”“Are you settling for hot

sex?”“Absolutely.”“I’m not sure I would

consider Dawson settling.He’ssweet.”“WastheIhearthotelbath

timewithKeatiepostsweet?”“He says it was, but I’m

pretty sure he did it onpurpose.”

“I know he did it onpurpose.HewantsAidenoutofthepicture.”“Aiden’s mad at me

again.”“Why?”“Lastnightheaskedmeto

behisescortfortheCompassCup, wear his jersey, and behisdateforthebanquet.ButIhad to tell him that I hadalready agreed to wearDawson’s.ButsinceDawsononly asked me to wear his

jersey and not go to thebanquet, I told Aiden I’d gowithhim.”“You’ve got to be kidding

me.Didheagreetothat?”“Sorta.Imean,hesaidyes,

butthenrightawayhesaidhehadtogocheckonhisroom.And he didn’t kiss megoodbye, which means hewas mad. Which pisses meoff because he didn’t let metell him that I didn’t knowabout all that stuff. Dawson

toldmeitwasjustforseniors.I figured it was no big dealsinceAiden’snotone.”“SoDawsonlied.”“I don’t think he lied. He

probably thought it was justseniors.”“I wasn’t even here last

yearandIknowthatit’snot.”“Idon’tknow,then.”“Whatever.I’mgonnatake

anap.”Hefallsasleepquickly.Igrabmyphoneoutofmy

purseandtypeHowtochoosebetween two guys intoGoogle.I’ve heard that Google

searches are how the NSAandCIAandallthosefederalorganizations track people.Theysupposedlycreatemajorprofiles on each one of us.Because,apparently,whatwesearch can tell them a lotaboutus.So now, more than likely,

what I just typed is currently

on a screen at the NSA.Agents are huddling aroundsome dude’s computerlaughing at me and saying,Did you see what she justtyped? They’ll mark myprofile as mentally unstableand if I fly commercial, I’llprobably get strip-searchedand have my shoesconfiscated.I breeze through a few

articlesanyway.On one blog I find

something interesting waydowninthecomments.Agirlasked if she should choosethe guy that is in love withher, or the guy she’s in lovewith.Which is an interestingway to put it. Unfortunately,thepeople that replied toherquestionwereverymixedonwho she should chose—whichisnotmuchhelp.Then I find a Cosmo

article. Cosmo is like arelationship bible. Like

Vogue is for fashion. Thisarticle makes me feel lotsbetter.Itsaysthatit’sokaytodate more than one guy at atime and that if you can’tchoose, it’sprobablybecauseyou’renotreadytochoose.And I think Cosmo is

right.I’mnotreadytochose.My phone vibrates in my

hand.It’sCooper.Oh, shit. I forgot to press

the button when we left

campus.“Since you answered, I’m

assuming you haven’t beenkidnapped?”“That’s correct. Sorry. I

forgot to press the buttonthingwhenIleft.”“Where the hell are you?

Actually,don’tanswerthat.Ialready know. You aremoving quickly, probably bytrain, about 20 miles fromhere. Garrett just called andtold me that. Yelled at me

because I didn’t knowwhereyouwere.”“Oh, I’msorry. I’mon the

train with Dallas. We’regoing toNewYorkCity. It’sRiley’sbirthday,soI’mgoingtostayathishouse.”“Whydidn’tyoutellme?”“Because you’re not my

keeper.”“Thehell I’mnot,Keatyn.

You can’t just leave withouttelling me. Shit. Excuse mejustaminute.”

Ihearachairscratchacrossthe floor and Cooper say,“Miss Clarke, can I helpyou?” I hear her reply. “I just

came to see ifyouwanted tohangouttoday.Maybegoseea movie. Have a drink. I’mbored.”“You’re not old enough to

drink and I’m busy.Goodbye.”Then I hear a door shut.

“You need to check in with

me always or you won’t begoing anywhere without meagain.Weclear?”“I’msorry.I’vegotaloton

mymind.”“Boysaretheleastofyour

problems.”“Thank you for reminding

me,”Isaysarcastically.“Youknow what? I’m not comingbackuntilSunday.Whydon’tyou take a couple days off.”Then I say “go get laid”undermybreath.

“Iheardthat.”“Maybe I wanted you to

hearthat.”“Iwasplanningtotakeyou

tothegunrangetoday.”“You should go yourself.

Practice.”“When you’re done with

theplay,we’regettingseriousabout your training,understand?”hesaysgruffly.“Yeah,Iunderstand.”

Dawson meets us at the

door and carries my bag upthe stairs.He stops at a doorandsays,“Thisismyroom.”“It looks perfect, not like

yourroomatschool.”“Ha, yeah. I'm rarelyhere.

I'm either at school or at thebeach.I'dliveatthebeachallday,everydayifIcould.”“Yeah,metoo.Ibetyou’d

likeCalifornia’sbeaches.Thewaves get big. The sunsetsareamazing.”“Think me and your ex

wouldgetalong?”“I don’t know. Probably.

He's pretty chill most thetime. Smokes a lot.Well, heusedto.”“Didyoudo thatwithhim

alot?”“I didn’t think so at the

timebutlookingback,wedidalot.”“Have you talked to him

lately?”“Actually,Ididlastweek.I

realizedthathe’smyroot.He

apologized for the cabanathing.Explainedit.”“Root?”“Root of my problem. I

thought that everything wentback to him. But I realizedthat everything goes back tome and how I react whensomethinghappens.”He gives me his sexiest

grin, pulls me inside hisroom, and locks the door.“People do make mistakes,you know. You're about to

makeonerightnow.”“Iam?”He unzips the back of my

dress. It falls to the floor.Thankgoodness Iworegoodunderwear. I almost didn't,justsoIwouldn'tdothis.Not that it would have

stoppedhim.He stands back and stares

atmy black andwhite polkadot bra and panties. “That’sso sexy. Did you wear thatjustforme?”

“I was gonna wearsomething ugly, so I wouldbetooembarrassedtoletyousee.”He strips off my bra,

pushes me on his bed, andkisses my stomach. “Youdidn’twanttodothis?”Rileypoundsonthedoor.“Text him,” Dawson says,

unzipping his pants. “We’regonnaneedaminute.”ItrytotextRiley.Butwhat

am I supposed to say? That

he’s giving me a tour of hisroom?Me:Busy.Stall,please.

I drop my phone to the

floorasDawsonkissesme.Riley bangs on the door a

few minutes later as I’mputting my dress back on.“Timetoparty!”heyells.“I was wrong,” Dawson

says. “No way that was a

mistake.”“Maybeitwasoneofthose

good mistakes. Like whenyoupayforasingledipcone,butyougetadouble.”“I think you are going to

have a good-mistake-ladenweekend.”“Do you think this is

skankyofme?Doing itwithyou when I’m seeing youboth?”He tilts his head at me.

“Wedon'thavetoifyoudon't

want to. I'msorryIunzippedyourdress.”“You don’t look very

sorry.”He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m

notreally.”“Dawson, you know how

you asked me to wear yourjersey for the game onFriday?”“Yeah.”“You told me it was for

seniors only. It’s for varsitystarters.”

“Yeah, I know. I got itconfused with Senior night.It’scominguptoo.”“Aiden asked me to the

banquet.Itoldhimyes.”“So you’re wearing my

shirt, escorting me onto thefield, butyou’regoing to thebanquet afterwards withhim?”“Yeah.”“You can’t. That’s not the

tradition.”“You got the tradition

wrongandyou’vebeentothebanquet for the last threeyears.I’mnew.HowwouldIknowwhatthetraditionis?”Hesquintshiseyesatme.I

cantellhewantstoargue,butif he does, he knows he’llsoundlikealiar.Instead, he says,

“Whatever.”

Doeshemake

youhot?1am

We have fun celebratingRiley’s birthday. We startwithdinneratasportsbarheloves,wherehegetshisphototaken with the scantily cladwaitresses. Then we have avery competitive bowlingtournament, which thebirthdayboywins.Thenback

totheirhouseforcakeandicecream.It’sreallyfunandnotat all what I expected.Apparently,he’sbeenhavingthe same party since he wastwelve.I’mlyinginDawson’sbed,

having just finished mysecondmistakeoftheday.“I was talking to my dad

aboutlovelastnight.Hesaysthat love isn’t always aninstantthing.Thatsometimesitgrows.Hesaysthattrustis

the most important thing. Itrustyouprobablymore thananyone else. And seriously,Keatie, I can't imagine itbeing better than this. Canyou?”“I don't know. I think it

probably feels pretty goodwith everyone. Justdifferent.”Herunsafingeracrossmy

stomach. “Pretty good, yes.Amazing,no.Butwehaveallnight. I’m going to have to

proveittoyou.”“Howare you going to do

that?”Dawson runs his tongue

slowly acrossmy collarbone."Maybe I should torture youwithmytongue."I laugh. "Riley threatened

to do that the first time wehungout."“Well, ya know, us

Johnsonboys,wegotitgoingon.”He runs his tongue down

my side. It tickles. I pullaway slightly, but he does itagain, slower. It tickles evenmore and makes me reallyhorny.He looks up lazily at me.

Rollsontopofme.Icanfeelthat bigness againstmy skin.Usually as soon as he's hardagain, he'd be in me, so I’msurprised when he continueswithhistongue.Up the middle of my

stomach, up my neck, under

my chin, and to my lips. Ihave my hips raised up tohim.Ievenreachforit.Hegoes,“Unuh,notyet.I

wantyoucrazyforme.”And I do about go crazy

whilehetorturesmewithhistongue.AndnowIknowwhyit’s torture. He's using histongueeverywherebutwhereI want it to be.Mostly, he’sbeen running it down mystomach,uptheinsidesofmythighs, and just when I'm

thinking,finally,hestopsandkissesupmysidesagain.Iletoutasadlittlesigh.Hegrinsatme.Continues.“Dawes, oh my god,

please.”He barely gets his fingers

inside me, and I'm moaning,apparently a little too loudlybecausehetossesapillowontopofmyhead. Igrab itandmoan into it. I've never beenloud like this before.Honestly, it’s never felt like

thisbefore.“Oh, that felt so good,” I

say breathlessly as he pullsthepillowoffmyface,kissesmedeeply,andpullsmylegsaroundhiswaist.AndthenIneedthepillow

again.The bed is creaking. He's

tightly holding my hips andslammingintome.Like,wayharder than he ever hasbefore,andohmygod.AndwhenIsayohmygod,

it is literally a prayer ofthanks.But then justwhen I think

he'sgoing to finish,heslowsway down, and then prettymuchstops."What'swrong?Iask.He leans down and

whispers, “I don'twant tobedoneyet.""Canyoudothat?""I just did. Roll over,” he

tellsme.Ihesitate. I'venever rolled

overbefore.ButIdo,alittlenervously.

He pulls me up unto myhands and knees, and thenhe's back at it. I have abriefflash of self-consciousness,wondering if there could besomecelluliteonmyass thatInevernoticed.Butwhenhegrabs my hips and continuesthe fast frenzy, I could carelessaboutcellulite.ItfeelssogoodthatIhave

toputmyfaceintothepillow

again.Finally he does that thing

where he stops, holds hisbreath, and I know I'm notsupposed to move. Then hestarts to collapse on top ofme,grabsmywaist,andpullsusbothoveronoursides.Hemovesmymesseduphairoffmy neck and places littlekissesdownthesideofit.I laugh. "That was . . . I

wanttosayamazing,but . . .itwasbetterthanthat."

"Wasitorgasmic?”hesayswithalaugh.I breathe in, then breathe

out a deep contented sigh.“Actually,Ithinkitwas.I’vealways enjoyed it a lot. But,um,neverlikethat."“Really? I’ve never made

youbefore?”“Have I ever sounded like

thatbefore?”“Actually, no. That was

hot. I thought you needed alittleextrawooing."

"I thought we decided sexwasn't part of the wooingprocess."“Yeah, you're right. Open

thedraweronmynightstand."Ileanover,openit,andsee

alittlepresent.I get a grin on my face.

"What'sthis?"He grins back. "Open it

andsee."I take the lid off the box.

Insideisapalepinkseashell.“Is this the shell we found

thatdayattheHamptons?”"Yeah, I kept it, but it

kinda smelled, so there's thislady that cleans them,polishesthem,andthenpaintsthegoldaroundtheedges.""It’sbeautiful.""IheardBraxtoninviteyou

to the beach this summer. Ihopeyoudecidetocome.”Idon'tknowwhatiswrong

with me, but tears startleakingoutofmyeyes."What'swrong? If you tell

me you feel guilty, I mightstartcrying."I laughas Iwipeaway the

tears.“It’sanemotionalrollercoaster."“I’m sure you being here

allweekendiskillinghim."“Maybe.”“I think he's going to ask

you outwhenwe get back. Ithinkyoushouldsayyes.”"Why!?Youdon'twantme

anymore!?""Uh, no." He gives me a

long sweetkiss. "I needed tosee with Whitney, and youprobably need to see if hereally touches your soul. I’mconfidentthatitisn’tgoingtogowell.Sogooutwithhim.Get over it. Then come backtome.”I lay my head on his

shoulder and wonder how Icould ever leave in the firstplace.

Sunday,October30thMylittle

snugglebunny.9am

There’s a loud bang on thedoor.“Breakfastinten."Iopenmyeyes.I'mexactly

where I was when I fellasleep. Snuggled up inDawson's arms, my head onhischest.Isavorthefeelofit.Thewayhesmells."How's my little snuggle

bunny?""She doesn't want to

move.""It'll all work itself out,

Keatie.Ipromise."

I run my hand across hisstomach, down his abs, andthen down a bit further."You'rehard.”"As much as I’d like to

again,I'msayingno.""Youneversayno.""Keatie, last night was

perfection.That'swhatIwantyou to remember. Also, tenminutesmeanstenminutes.""Areweeatinghere?Do I

havetobedressed?""Well, I know I’d enjoy

you being naked at thebreakfast table, butmymommightnotappreciateit."“Imeantdoyouwearyour

pjs or do I need to put on adress or something? Whatwillyourmombewearing?""Oh,she'llbefullydressed

andready.Shegetsupearly.""Shit." I start to jump up.

He pulls me back down intohis chest. "I love you.”Thenhe smacksmy butt and says,"Youbetterhurry.Rightnow

you’rekindaamess."Ipout."Ahotmess.Iloveit.Your

mascara is smeared and yourhair isawreckandImade itthatway."I jump up, throw on his

robe,sneakout thedoor,andtiptoe down the hall to theguestroomIwassupposedtosleep in. Iopenmydoorandsafelygetinside.But sitting on my bed is

Braxton."You'reamess."

"Shut up." I run into theattached bathroom and seehe'sright.Shit.I brush the tangles out of

my hair, rub in some balm,and brush it again. It lookssurprisingly good. I grabsome eye makeup removerpadsandgetthesmudgesoutfrom underneath my eyes,wash my face quick, andsweep on some powderfoundation.

IgrabmyNarsblush.It’sapale pinky peach calledorgasm, which makes mesmile. I run my big fluffybrush across the top of theblush, adda little sweep,usetheblushaseyeshadow,curlmy eyelashes, coat on somemascara,andbrushmyteeth.Braxton is sitting on the

bedwatchingme."Why are you in my

room?""Well, I was going to tell

youit’stimeforbreakfast."He gives me Riley’s

naughtygrin.“I know it’s time for

breakfast, so you can gonow.""I lost track how many

times you and Dawsonhookeduplastnight.Really,Iwas pretty impressed. Youwerekinda loud.Youalwaysthatloud?""I'm not discussing that

withyou."

Igrabcleanclothes,runinthe bathroom, lock the door,andthrowthemon.I open the door, dressed

andreadyinrecordtime.Braxtonlickshislips.Fora

little kid, he's pretty sexy.He’s going to break a fewheartsnextyear,forsure."Soyou'd rather talk about it atbreakfast in front of thefamily? That's cool withme.Momwillprobablyfreak,butwhatever."

I stop and glare at him."You say one thing, makeevenone little innuendo, andnextyear,Iwilltelleverygirlat school that you suck inbed.""I love to suck on things

whenI'minbed."“No girl will come near

you."He squints his eyes atme,

sizingupmyseriousness."Fine. But after breakfast,

you'retellingmewhathewas

doing to you in detail. Iwannamakeagirlmoan likethat."“You know, you haven't

said a bad word once thismorning."Hegrins,popsoff thebed,

and says, “Come on, I'mstarved."As we're going down the

stairs, he says, "You reallygonnagooutwiththatAidenguy?""Wereyoulistening?"

"Hell,yeah.Triedtheglassup against the wall andeverything, but it was bestthrough the air vent. I hadyou on speakerphone too somy friends could hear. I hadtostandonachair forhours,butIdidn'tmind.""Ohmygosh.""Riley, Cam, and Dallas

were in my room too. Theyweretryingtofigureoutwhathewasdoingtoyoubasedonthe noises you made. I

learned a lot. They made adrinking game out of it.Everytimeyoumoaned,theydid a shot. They were allfuckedup."I follow Braxton into a

huge sunny formal diningroom. So glad I didn't comedown in my pajamas.Everyone is sitting patientlywaiting for us, steamingplates of breakfast foods infrontofthem.Braxton pulls out a chair

forme,Igivehimasurprisedthanksandsitdown."Didyousleepwell,dear?"

theirmotherasksme.Riley and Cam both

chuckle."Yes, thank you. This

lookswonderful.""This is the birthday boy's

favorite breakfast,” his momtells me, pointing at, well,everything. It’s a hugebreakfastmuchlikeweateintheHamptons.

"He has good taste,” I saypolitely.His mom puts candles in

Riley's waffles and we sing“Happy Birthday.” Then theformal dining room becomesafeedingfrenzy.Braxton has four waffles.

"I'm still growing,” he tellsme.Theboyseat.Andeat.Thenit'stimeforpresents.Riley opens a bunch of

presents. Clothes, a new

phone,acouplevideogames,and a tiny extreme sportsvideorecorderfromme.When I think we’re all

done,hisdadslapshimontheback and hands him a smallbox. Riley gets the hugestsmileeveronhis face,opensthe box, pulls out a set ofkeys,andgoesrushingoutofthediningroom.“Dawson,didhegetacar?

Healreadyhasone.”“That car isn’t really his.

Ourparentsjustlethimuseit.If we get good grades andstay out of trouble, we get acoolcarforour17thbirthday.Let’s go see what they gothim.”He leads me through the

kitchen, a laundry room, andthenoutasidedoor.Sitting in the little

driveway is very flashy car.So different from Dawson’sbadass, but subtle, BMW.Riley's present is a neon

green Viper with big blackstripes down themiddle. It’sperfectforhim.There are a chorus of

That's so sick,Tight,Hot-asscar. Riley hugs his parents,hops in thedriver’s seat, andrevsthemotor.Dallasslidesupnexttome

and whispers, "I am sofreaking hung over, and it’sall your fault. Hell, I mightstillbedrunk.”"Dallas, Idon'tknowwhat

I'mgoingtodo.""We heard him tell you to

gooutwithAiden."“Aiden’smad at me. He’s

notgoingtoaskmeout.”"Icanseenowwhyyou're

havingahardtimedeciding.”"I'mmortified.""No,you'renot.That'swhy

we loveyou.But seriously, Ineed to know what he wasdoing cuz I wanna make,well, every girl sound likethat."

"You're gonna have to askhimwhathedid.Ican’tevenremember. And he’s nevermade me sound like thatbefore.”"Oh,weare.You'regonna

go to talk to his mom whilewe have a conference. EvenCamwaslike,Damn."Now, I’m sitting with his

mom in the living room,knowingtheboysareupstairsdiscussingmysexlife.

Shesaystome,“I’vebeentrying to figure outwho youremindmeofsincewemet.Itjust hit me while we wereeating breakfast. You hadyour fork out and weregesturing with it when youtalked.There’sasceneinoneof Abby Johnston’s movieswhere she does the samething.”“Really? No one’s ever

toldmethat,”Ilie.“Didyouknowthatthey’re

doing a nationwide search tocastanAbbylook-alikeintheremake of her first film?They’re auditioning in NewYork soon. You should tryout.Riley toldus that you’reintheschoolplay.”“Oh,no.I,um,justdothat

for fun. For my collegeapplications, you know. Idon’twanttobeanactor.”“Oh,what do youwant to

be?”“Adoctor,”Ilie.

“I’m a doctor,” she says,excitedly.“Howcoolisthat?”She proceeds to tell me a

whole bunch of stories aboutmed school, her formermedical practice, andRiley’sbirth.When she has exhausted

that topic, she looks at herwatch and says, “What arethe boys doing up there?Theylookedsneaky.""Braxtonwantstotellthem

how he got grounded.Apparentlythere'savideo?"She rolls her eyes. “We

found him at two in themorning filming two girls intheir underwear—well, no,theyhadonteenyjeanshorts,high heels, and bras. Theywere dancing and drinkingchampagne.”Ohmigawd. Maybe videos

do affect the youth of today.Because I'm pretty sureBraxton was trying to

recreateourrevengevideo."Andhehadthemdrinking

our Dom Pérignon! Do youknow how expensive thatstuffis?"Same champagne. Shit.

Pray his mother never seesmyvideo."Yeah,I'veheard."

Reallyniceboobs.

4pmI'monthetrainridetoschool.Dawson is sleeping with hisheadonmyshoulder.“Whatdidyoudecidetodo

about Aiden?” Dallas asksme.“Onthetrainhere,Ireada

Cosmo article. It said if youcan’t decide between twoboys that means you’re notready to decide. I thought I

wasn’t ready to decide. ButnowIthinkIam.”“Really?”“Yep. I’m going with the

hot sex. You’re right. We’reinhighschool.Weshouldbehavingfun.There’snoreasontobetieddownandnoreasontoletyourheartgetinvolved.None of us know the future.Since you heard everythingelse, did you hear the partabout how his dad says lovegrows?"

"Yeah.""Youthinkthat'strue?""Couldbe."“Are you in love with

Chelsea?”"I don't know. I've never

feltthatinstantthingyoutalkabout,butIlikeher.She'sfunand I'm looking forward togetting back to school andseeing her boobs. She hasreallyniceboobs."I head over to Aiden's

room towork on our Frenchhomework for a little whilebefore I have to go torehearsal.He hasn’t texted me all

weekend, so I’m not evensureifhe’sstillmeetingme.I stand outside his door,

myhandup,readytoknock.As I put my hand on his

door,itopens.And it looks like someone

just opened the gates ofheaven.

Aidengentlypullsme intohis room and gives me ablazingsmile.Thenhekissesme.Aslow,perfect,knock-me-

off-my-feet, slide-down-a-rainbow and then soar-through-the-skykiss.Seriously. It’s like he has

some power to unlockwhatever sappy love shit isburiedinmybrain."So, I did all my French

homework myself. Made

Annie study with me thisweekend.""Oh,soyoudon'tneedme

anymore?"I'malittlecrushedbythis.No. I'm the-bug-you-

crunched-under-your-shoecrushed. I feel like mycarcass should be lying deadonhisfloorwithawhite linedrawnaroundme.He lazily blinks those

emerald eyes at me. "No,silly.I justwantedtobeable

to talk during rehearsal andnothavetostudy.”"Oh.Canwedance then?”

Helookssortofsurprised,soIsay,“Wehavetime.”He shuts his blinds, turns

on the twinkle lights, andmesses with his iPhone,choosingthesurethingsong.He takes two big steps

acrosshisroom,pullsmeintohisarms,andswayswithme.I put my cheek against his.Feelthefire.Thinkaboutthe

quoteGrandmatoldmeaboutlove either warming yourheart or burning your housedown.Aidenfeelslikehehasthe power to do both.Especially now that he iswhisperingsomeofthelyricstomeabouthowhehasfaithinus.And I long for that. That

kindoflove.If Dawson and I broke up

forgood,itwouldn'tburnmyhousedown.

But am I willing to playwithfire?AndwhatwillIdoifIgetburned?I’m pretty sure I can

already feel the flames ofHellticklingmytoes.Ha! I'm dancing in the

flames.Aiden kisses me. Gentle

buthotkisses.Thenhewalksme back toward his bed andliesontopofme,runninghistongueupmyneck.He moves against me.

Thrillingme.Butonlykissingme.I return his kisses with

everybitofpassionIpossess.Somehow achieving thiswithout using my tongue.Whichisanewoneonme.Ihaveonehandbehindhis

neck and my other hand isacross his butt, pulling himtowardme.Hesays,"Hell."And I wonder if he’s in

Helltoo.

Hepopsupoffthebedandpullsmeup."Comeon,” he says, as he

drags me—practicallykicking and screaming—outthedoor.Onthewaytorehearsal,he

says, “I’m sorry I kinda gotmad the other night. I’d loveforyoutobemydateforthebanquet.”“Okay,”Isayhappily.

Monday,October31st

Youreallyareagoodprince.

6:30pm

“Well, this is the big scene.You ready?” Jake asks aswe’rewaitingtogoonstage.For this scene, I’ll be

dressed in a ball gown. It’sthebignight.The final nightin the competition, whereeach prince has to announcewhoheloves.The contestants take turns

dancingwithbothprinces.Partofthecontestinvolves

thetownspeople’svotes.Whothey think each prince will

ask.The Bad Prince happily

surprises everyone when heofferstogofirst.Thetownspeoplecheer.They love him. Love how

he’s manipulated the girls.Love his cocky, bad boyattitude. Love his tattooedback.Anoverwhelmingmajority

of them believe that he willoffer his red rose to theDebutante.

TheGoodPrince,whohasalienatedmostof thecountryand the contestants, doesn’tshare the townspeople’sfavor.Theyvotedthatnoonewillagreetomarryhim.The Bad Prince walks

across the stage. He lookshandsome. Rich. Cultured.He waves away themicrophone that theannouncer tries to hand himandinsteadspeaksdirectlytothecontestants.

“This has been a toughchoice.Allofyouwillalwayshave a special place in myheart.Butonestandsoutlikethebrighteststarinthesky.”The Debutante smiles.

She’s shaking withexcitement. The townspeoplearecheering.TheGoodPrincejuststares

atme.While the Bad Prince

walksaroundhigh-fivingandfist-bumping the

townspeople, we have amoment.Thespotlightshineson each of us as we wonderhow things between us wentsowrong.Then theBadPrincegrabs

a rose off the podium. Hepulls a petal off the rose andhands it to the sluttycontestant. She looks veryconfusedly at him and thecrowd murmurs, wonderingwhat he’s doing. He keepsgoing,though.Pullingapetal

off and then handing it toanother contestant. I’m nextin line to get a petal, but heskips me. Shuns me, itseems.TheGoodPrincegivesme

abeamingsmile.After the Bad Prince has

handed each girl a petal, hewalks back to me, grabs myhand, and pulls me towardhim.“I don’t have a rose for

you, my darling. I have

something much better.” Hedrops to one knee and pullsan enormous diamond ringoutofhispocket.This prop is hilarious and

willmaketheaudiencelaugh.“Marryme,”hesays.My eyes meet the Good

Prince’s. He’s obviouslydevastated, assuming that iftheBadPrinceaskedmethenI must be in love with him.He rushes off the stage, notwaitingformyreply.

Tears fill my eyes as Iwatchtheloveofmyliferunaway.TheQueencloselywatches

whattranspires.When Idon’t reply to the

Bad Prince right away, thetownspeople yell, Kiss her!Kissher!The Bad Prince grabs me

andgivesmeafierykiss.It’s the kind of kiss that

should make you want tojumpintobedwithhim.

ButIpullawayfromit.“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” I

cry.I run off stage and then

chaotic hilarity ensues. Allthe finalists give it one lastshot to win the Bad Prince’sring.They attack him with

kisses. They fight. Pull eachother’shair.Finally,hesays,“Enough.”

And puts the ring on theDebutante’sfinger.

Thecrowdgoescrazy.The lights dim, the

backgroundchanges,andI’mrunningdownthebeach.Igoto theplacewherewe

firstkissed.I stop when I see him

sittingthere,staringoutatthewater.Igostandinfrontofhim.He stands up and says

madly, “What are you doinghere?Shouldn’tyoubeoffon

your honeymoon with mybrother?”“I can’t marry a man I

don’tlove.”He visibly softens. Jake is

very good at this part. Heslumpshisshouldersslightly,softens his eyes, and reachestotakemyhandsinhis.“Whenwekissed that first

time,Ididn’tknowyouwerea prince. You were just theman I had fallen head overheels in love with. I don’t

loveyourbrotherandIdon’tcareaboutbeingaprincess,Ijustwantyou.”Jake and I share a

meaningfulgazethenweleantogether and kiss as the bigmoonslidesdownbehindus.After the kiss, he drops to

one knee, pulls a beautifulring out of his pocket, andsays,“Willyoumarryme?”I jump into his arms and

sayyes.“That was spectacular!”

our director says.“Outstanding, people. We’llstop there for tonight. Goenjoy what’s left of yourHalloween.”Jake glances at his watch.

“There’s not much timebefore curfew, but I havetreatsinmyroomifyouwanttocometrickortreat.”“Whatkindoftreats?”“They’re special

brownies.”“Seriously? Um, we’ll be

there.”“Tell the girls that the

sluttiestcostumewins!”

Naughtynursefantasy.9:45pm

I run into the dorm lookingfor the girls.There arewhitecotton spider webs stretched

from corner to corner of thegathering room. The dormsallgoalittlecrazycompetingfor best decorated. The girlswere putting their costumeson and going dorm to dormtrick-or-treating. “There she is! Finally,”

Maggie yells at me fromacrosstheroom.She’salittletipsy and dressed as anaughty policewoman. “Goputonyourcostumeandtakesomepicswithus!”

“Okay,I’llhurry!”I run in my room and

throw on the naughty nursecostume I bought but didn’tget to wear today. Theydecided last minute that wecouldn’t dress up for classes.Probably because ourcostumeslooklikethis.I runbackoutandMaggie

handsmea flask. “Youneedto catch up,” she laughs.“EvenAnnieistipsy.”I throw back a shot, then

have fun posing with thegirls.“We need to go trick-or-

treating at Jake’s room. Hehasspecialbrownies.”“Seriously? Let’s go!”

Maggiesays.“I need to upload this pic

first,” Annie says. “Thenwe’llgo.”While she’s uploading the

picture,Itellthem,“So,Iwasbored on the train thisweekendandIreadthisthing

about a girl trying to choosebetweentwoguys.”Annie stops what she’s

doing and laughs. “Youtotally googled How tochoose between two guys,didn’tyou?”Ifrown,busted.“Maybe.”“Whatdiditsay?”Maggie

asks.AndIcantellshe’sveryinterested.“The girl asked if she

shouldchoose theguy that isin love with her, or the guy

she’sinlovewith.”“Oh, wow,” Maggie says,

sitting down slowly. “I getthat.”“Idon’tgetit,”Anniesays

scornfully. “Not that itmatters.Iknowtheanswer.”Maggie and I both look at

her in awe. “What is it?”Maggieasks.“Youwantboth,duh.”“Bothguys?”MaggieandI

askatthesametime.We lookat eachother and

laugh.“No! Not both guys. You

want one guy. One guy thatloves you and that you’re inlovewith.”“If only it could be that

easy,” Maggie says with asigh as I get a text fromBraxton.Braxton: Tricks or treats.

Which one did you gettonight?

Me:I’mgoingtogetsometreats rightnow :)Howboutyou?Braxton: I have this girl

talked into sneaking over.Tonight’sthenight.She’s17.Me: How old does she

thinkyouare?Braxton:17

Me:Doessheknowyou’ve

neverdoneit?Braxton: Shit,will she be

abletotell?Me: Yeah, I think so.

Maybe you should just kissher. Stop trying to make ithappenandwaitforsomeoneyoucareabout.Braxton: I don’t really

care about that. I just wantexperience.

Me: What happened with

you and Embry? I thoughtyouweresupposedtogotoamovietogether.Braxton:Doyounotrecall

mepukingonher?Shehatesme.Me:Butshepukedonyou

back.You’reeven.Braxton: Thisgirlcoming

overisnotasprettyassheisbut I don’t care. She’s intome.Me: Has she done it

before?Braxton: Uh, yeah. For

sure.Me: Then tell her you

haven’t.Maybeshecanhelp.Braxton: How can she

help?Me:Askyourbrothers.

Braxton: Riley won’t tell

meandneitherwillDawson.Me:Whynot?

Braxton: Fuck if I know.

Oh sorry, I’m not sure. Whycan’t you tell me? Youembarrassed?

Me:No.Ijustthinkmaybeit’s better if a guy tells you.I’m not a guy. Ask Dawsonagain.Me:Sodidhetellyou?

Braxton:Hesayshe’lltell

me later. I need to knowNOW!!! It’s going downTONIGHT!!Me:I’llgotalktohim.

“We have to go to Jake’snowifwe’regoingtomakeitbackbycurfew.”Iroundupthegirlsandwe

runovertoJake’sroom.“Trickortreat,”Isaywhen

heopenshisdoor.“Very nice, Monroe. Very

nice.” Then his eyes wanderdown Maggie’s body. “I sowanttobearrested.”Maggieistipsyandfeeling

cocky. She shoves Jake upagainst the wall and says, “I

heard you have some illegalbrownieshere.”“Why don’t you try one

andthenI’llletyouhandcuffme?”Annie, Katie, and I each

grab a brownie for the road.“I think we’ll let the policesort this out,” I say. “I’mgoingnextdoor.”“I’mgoingtoAce’sroom,”

Anniesays.“And I’m going to

Bryce’s,”Katiereplies.

“Behave,” I tell them as IknockonDawson’sdoor.“TrickorTreat,”Isaywith

agrin.“EitherIcanbeyourtrick,

Keatie, or you can be mytreat,” he says, steppingclosertome.“Wereallydon’thavetime

forthat.”He grins at me, pulls me

past the threshold, shuts hisdoor, andpinsmeupagainstthe wall. “You smell like

chocolate,Keatie.It’ssexy.”“Does that mean you like

mycostume?”“I don’t know.” He backs

awayfrommeandfullytakesit in. Tight white mini-shirtwaistdress,whitefishnetthigh highs, red bra showingthrough, and tall, red patentleather stilettos. “Did I evermention to you that I have anaughtynursefantasy?”“Nope, don’t think you

did.”

Hecloses thegapbetweenus and pulls the front of myshirt out a little. That’s theredbrayouworethedayyouwore those sexy black boots.Our first day back at schoolaftertheHamptons.”“You have a good

memory.”“I remember every detail

from this weekend. Everylittle noise you made. Everylittle thing I did to you. IthinkIshouldremindyou.”

“Dawson,Icamehereforareason.Iwantyoutotellyourbrother what he wants toknow.”“Youcameoverbecauseof

Braxton?”“Well, that and Jake’s

illegal brownies,” I say,holding up one. “I’ll share ifyouhelpyourbrother.”“Send him a pic of you in

thatoutfit.”“WhywouldIdothat?”“Doesn’tmatter.Doit,and

I’lltellhim.I’lleventakethepicture.”“Uh,okay.”Heholdsuphisphonethen

says, “Hmmm, that’s notquiteright.Youneedtofixit.Makeitalittlesexier.”“Fixwhat?”“Unbutton one more

button.”“Butyou’llseemybra.”He smiles and flicks the

button open. “Just a little.”He backs up and says,

“Smile.”I smile. Except I’m pretty

sure he didn’t take a pictureof my mouth. I think hemaybe took a picture of mychestarea.“Hmmm.” He points the

camera down at my legs,more specifically the hem ofmyskirt.“Areyougettingallofme

orjustparts?”“Maybethegoodparts.”“Why would he need . . .

NO!”Dawson grins naughtily.

“You’re the one that wantedtohelphim.Hecantakecareofhimselffirst,thenhewon’tbe so quick, in theory, hisfirst time. I think he’s tooyoung. That’s why I didn’twanttotellhim.”“Dawson,he is tooyoung,

but he wants to beat Riley.Rileywas...”“I know how old Riley

was. I also know Braxton

isn’tready.He’sdumb.He’llbecareless.”“That’s exactly why you

shouldtalktohim.Beagoodbrother.”Dawson clicks around on

his phone and then pins meback against the wall. “Doyourealizethereareonlyfivebuttonsseparatingus?”I swallow.Crap. I need to

getoutofherebecauseIhavea strong desire to undo theone button that is separating

himfromme.“I need to go,” I tell him.

“Andyouneedtotalktoyourbrother. He needs to hearabout protection and all thatstuff. And Dawes, don’tforgettotellhimaboutlove.”“I love you. Maybe we

shouldtalkaboutthat?”“I love you too, but we

bothknowwhatkindof loveitis.”“Yeah,thehotkind.”“You’re naughty. We

really need to stop havingsex.”“Notuntilyouhaveagood

reasonforwantingtostop.”“What should be my

reason?”“When you want to stop,

that’swhen you’ll know youshould.”“Shit. That may be the

most profound thing you’veever said to me.” I push myway out of his room. “Bye,Dawson,”Isay,givinghima

quickkissonthecheek.AsI’mwalkingbacktomy

dorm, I run into Aidencomingfromthelibrary.“Trick or treating in the

boy’s dorm?” he asks. Thenhe looksa littlecloseratme.“Yourshirtisunbuttoned.”I immediately look a

guilty. Aiden looks at me

accusatorially. “Were youjustwithDawson?”

“No.”Aiden shakes his head at

me. “Then why were you intheboys’dorm?”“Well, I was in Dawson’s

roombutnothinghappened.Ihad to talk to him aboutsomethingimportant.”“Uh huh.And your button

just accidentally poppedopen?”“This costume cost all of

$47 dollars. It’s not exactlyhigh quality, Aiden. And his

little brother textedme and Ithought he needed to dealwithit.”“Andthat’sit?”“Yeah,that’sit.”“Youlookhigh.”Igiggle.“Jakewashanding

outspecialbrownies.”“Andnothinghappened?”“That’sright.”“That’squiteacostume.”“Doyoulikeit?”Aiden’s eyes drink in my

costume.“Iwouldn’thavelet

yououtofmyroom.”He gives me a quick but

spine-tingling kiss and thensays, “Happy Halloween,Boots.”

Tuesday,November1stJustjackoff.

7:40amI wake up starving and scarfdownthefirstthingIsee.

AfterIeathalf,itdawnsonmethatI’meatingabrownie.Oh,shit.Please don’t let this be a

specialbrownie.IwakeKatie up. “Tellme

you ate Jake’s brownie lastnight.”“No, Bryce and I decided

to save it and share ittonight.”I close my eyes tightly.

“Shit.Ijustatehalfofit.”“Iheardyoucankillahigh

bydoingsomeshots.”“Youwantmetogetdrunk

too?”“What if I try to scare

you?”“I don’t think you can

scare me if I know you’regoing to try to scare mebecause then I probablywouldn’tbescare-able.”“You’realreadyhigh.”“Wait.Iknowwhattodo.”IcallDallas.“Dallas,dude.

I totally, like, need some

assistance.”“Uh,okay?”“Have you ever, like,

gotten high but then felt likemaybe you shouldn’t behigh?”“Isthatatrickquestion?”“No. Like, have you ever

needed to get un-highquickly?Howdoyoudoit?”“Oh.Justjackoff.”“I don’t think I have the

rightpartsforthat.”“Areyouhigh?Now?”

“Slightly.”“I’llberightover.”Katie leaves while I wait

for Dallas. While I wait, Istart to think about how mybrain has totally been onmycaselately.Imeanwhatiswithallthis

nagging?All this Choose. Choose.

Youneedtochoose.I decide to text Grandpa.

He’sasmartman.

Me:Grandpa,howdoyou

like make an importantdecision? Do you like writeout pros and cons, like howdoyoudecide?Grandpa:Iliketotallylike

flipacoin,dude.Me: Very funny, ha ha. I

guess I did say like a coupletimes. But here’s the deal.Thisdecisionistooimportant

to flip a coin over. I mean,what if I don’t get what Iwant?Grandpa:Exactly.

Me: What? I don’t get it.

Whatdoyoumean?Exactly?Grandpa: Hotshot, when

you need to make animportant decision and youare trying to decide betweentwo things, flip a coin. You

just said, what if I don’t getwhatIwant.Thattellsmeyoualreadyknowwhatyouwant.Most people do. They justneed validation. Like fateplayedahandinit.Ifyouflipacoinandgetwhatyouwant,you feel like you made theright decision, but it soundslike you already know theright decision. You’re justscaredtomakeit.Me: That’s really deep,

dude.Grandpa:Thanks,dude.

IthinkaboutwhatGrandpa

said.IhaveahotpinkMagicEightBallathome.Iuseditalotwhen Iwas younger, andif I didn’t get the answer Iwanted,Iwouldshakeituntiltheeightballgotitright.Yes. Brooklyn is in love

withyou.Mostofmyquestionsback

then revolved aroundBrooklyn.WillBrooklyneverask me out? Does Brooklynthink of me as more than afriend?WillBrooklynkissmetonight?Willwe getmarriedsomeday?Okay, so Imay have used

itrecently.Dallas barges in my door

andlooksatme.“Didyoueatone of Jake’s brownies forbreakfast?”“Yes.Accidentally.”

“Doyouhaveanyleft?”“Half.”“Sweet. If we’re gonna

skipschoolandhangout,weshouldbothbehigh.”Iwatchashechowsdown

theotherhalfofthebrownie.Now we’re lying on my

bed trying to count the starson my ceiling. There areeither 22 or 137, we’re notexactlysure.“You know, I’ve been a

mostly good boy all yearlong.Was it toomuch toaskforagirltocomeuptomeonHalloween, laugh like avampire, and say, I vant tosuckyourdick?”I laugh out loud.

“Ohmigawd. I want to be avampirenextyear.I’mtotallygoing to say that toeveryone.”“You gonna follow

through?”“Iftheygotmesomefood,

Imight.I’mstarving.Areyoustarving?”“That’s what we need.

Foodandanap.”“Oh, a nap sounds good.

I’ll go raid the kitchen. Youstayhere.”I scrounge through the

dorm’skitchenandtakebackanamazingfeast.“I found cinnamon rolls,

skittles, Cool Ranch Doritos,and two avocados. But don’teat the avocados. I want to

makeafacemask.”Dallas and I chow, then I

smash up the avocados, andrubthemonourfaces.Weliedowntorest.

“What the hell is on your

face?”Dallassaystome.“Whyareyouinmybed?”“Brownies,” Dallas says

with a smile, as he runs hisfingerthroughtheavocadoonmy face then licks it off hisfinger. “I just need salsa and

somechips.”“We need to get to class.

Whattimeisit?”He pulls his phone out of

hispocket.“Shit.It’sone.”“Weslepthalftheday!”“Best.Day.Ever.”I giggle. “You’re right. It

has been fun. And I’mrelaxed. Did I tell you thatCosmo said that I don’t havetochoose?”“Choose what? New

shoes?”

“No,betweenboys. It saidifIcan’tchoose,it’sbecauseI’mnotreadyto.”“Yes, you told me on the

train. I saywe choose not togotoourclassestoday.”“I have to go to soccer or

I’ll get in trouble. CoachSteeleistryingtokillus.”“He’s a beast. Have you

seenhimliftingweights?”“Uh, no, have you? And

whydidn’tyoucallme?”“I somehow doubt he

wants all you girls droolingoverhimwhenhe’s trying togetinaworkout.”“Still,youshould’vecalled

me. I’m gonna go shower.Getthisstuffoffmyface.”“I’m gonna take another

nap.”

I’llletfatedecide.

3:40pmI’m the last one in thedancelockerroom.AsIpullmybagoutofmycrammed locker, aquarterrollsoutandfallsontothefloor.I pick it up off the floor

andstudyit.I’mprettysuretheuniverse

istryingtospeaktome.Okay,I’lldoit.I’llletfate

decide. I will flip this coin,

and whatever it tells me, Iwilldo.Heads, I choose Dawson

and do not look back. I’llenjoy our easy, lusty-loverelationship andwon’tworryaboutthefuture.Tails, because they sorta

looklikeaclover,isAiden.Iffateletsitlandontails,Iwillgive up hot sex and tonguekisses and take anotherchanceonlove.Itossthecoinhighintothe

air.All of a sudden, all I can

see isAiden’s face. Ipray tothe love and hottie gods thatitlandstailsup.IwantAiden.Ireallydo.Itdropson thegroundand

rollsacrossthefloor.Maggie walks in, sees the

coin rolling, and says, “Oh,I’llgetthat.”“Don’t touch it!” I scream

ather.

“Okay,” she says, backingaway.The coin rolls in front of

her feet and then under thebench. I plop down on myhandsandknees,chasingitasitrolls.“What the hell are you

doing?”She looksatme likeI’mamaniac.“Itossedacoin,soIcould

decide between Dawson andAiden.”“Why would you leave a

decisionlikethattochance?”“It’snotchance.It’sfate.”The quarter stops rolling,

stands on its side, spins, andthenfallstotheground.Ipickitup.Lookatit.Maggie asks impatiently.

“Well,whatisit?”“It’sheads.”“Who’sheads?”“Dawson.Shit.”“Why shit? Dawson is H,

O,doubleT,hot.”I pace back and forth in

front of her. “Because mygrandpa told me when thecoinisupintheair,I’dknowwho I want. I want Aiden.What thehell justhappened?What happened to fate? Ithought itwasfate that ImetAiden here. That I kicked asoccer ball at his face. Hetells me it’s fate that we’regoingtobetogether.HowamI supposed to align my lifewith fate, when I can’t eventrust it to get a stupid coin

toss right?” I grab Maggie’sshoulders, my eyes full ofpanic. “Is fate trying to tellmeAideniswrongforme?”Maggie grabs my

shoulders. “You need to getahold of yourself. My dadsayscointossesareagameofchance.Idon’tthinkthey’reatestoffate.Besides,everyoneknowsyoualwaysdotwooutofthree.”“They don’t do that when

theystartthefootballgames.”

“Boysaredumb.Justdoit.Hold the quarter in yourhand, thinkWho should I bewith, and then toss it in theair.“WhoshouldIbewith?”I

say and flip the quarter intothe air. Once again, I seeAiden’s face, so I will thecointolandontails.It rolls directly in front of

Maggie’sfeet.“Ican’t lookat it.What is

it?”

“It’s tails!Aiden!You didgood, Keatyn. Okay, onemoretime.”She tosses me the coin. I

flip it again, think the samethings, but then Dawson’sadorable face bursts into mythoughts.Iseehimsittingonthebrickwallwaitingforme,that first day back at schoolaftertheHamptons.Thecoinlands.“Heads,”shesays.Dawson.

“Wait!This isallwrong. Ishouldn’t be throwing it. I’mtoo confused. Who do youthinkIshouldbewith?”“I don’t know. I used to

think Dawson, but now Ithink Aiden. Mostly, I justwantyoutobehappy.”I give her a hug. “That’s

exactly what I need! Youneed to toss the coin andthink, I want Keatyn to behappy.”“I can do that,” she says

excitedly.“No two out of three. Just

onetoss,okay?”“Okay, let me think . . .

heregoes.”Shetossesthecoinupinto

the air. It hits the ceiling,bounces down on the bench,andthenrollsoffit.“Heads,” Maggie says.

“It’sDawson.”

Soeasily

destroyed.6:50pm

Beforerehearsalstarts,oneoftheactorsisonstagemessingaround.Hestandsupstraightandtall,holdshisfistagainsthis chest, and quotes fromHamlet:“Tobe,ornot tobe,thatisthequestion.”But I hear something else.

To choose, or not to choose,

thatisthequestion.I’m pretty sure inHamlet,

hewas trying to decide if heshould kill himself. WhileI’m trying to figure out if Ishouldkillarelationship.Aiden sits down next to

me, the feather still hangingfromhisbackpack.ShouldI listentothecoin-

tossfateandchooseDawson?“You know, we never did

talk about your ceramicsproject.”

“That’s because you weremadatme.”“Boots, I want to build a

frameworkwithyou.Doyoustillwantthat?”Inod.“Good.Buthere’sthedeal.

I want the framework—thefoundation—built on love,not sex.” He takes both myhands in his. “Build afoundation with me. A nicestrongfoundation.Thenwe’llbuild a huge sprawling

mansion of love on it. Thekindnoonecouldeverknockdown.Rememberthestoryofthethreelittlepigs?”“Yeah.Thewolfatethem.”“No,hedidn’t.Heate two

of them. You and Dawsonwere a straw house. It onlytookapuff—a text—toblowit down. Don’t you want arelationship that’s not soeasilydestroyed?”Iwant to say I don’t care,

but I do. I do want a

relationship like that. Onelike Mom and Tommy’s.Tommy would move amountainformymomandusgirls.Istarttogettearsinmyeyes.Heputshishandundermy

chin. “Does that make yousad?”“No, it’swhat Iwant. I’m

justtiredofinvestingmytimeand my heart in things thatfallapart.AndIdon’twanttobeapig.”

Aiden laughs and kissesmy nose. “You’d be a cutepiggy.”I look at the stage and

realize that I’m supposed tobeupthere.“Shit.Igottago.”WhenIsitbackdownafter

my scene, Aiden says, “Ibought tickets to everyshowing.”“Every showing of the

play?All three?Haven’tyouseenitenough?”

“Not really. I love thisplay.”“Why’sthat?”“Thegoodguywins.”

Wednesday,November2ndItwasawful.

EnglishInEnglish,Katie sits next toDallas and me. It’s the first

timeshe’sventuredoverheresincetheTyreseincident.“I have some exciting

news.”“What’sthat?”“Bryce askedme tobehis

escortlastnight!”“That’sawesome.”“I’mgoingtobeChelsea’s

escort,” Dallas says, gettinginalittlejab.“She a varsity starter?”

Katie asks, although shedoesn’tlethimreply.“Makes

sense, I guess. She’s beenwitheveryoneontheteam.”My eyes get big with

shock.Katie’susuallynotthiscatty.Dallas doesn’t get mad,

though, he grins at her andthen swats her shoulder.“Well, since you poppedmycherry, I’ve been trying tofind someone better thanyou.”Katie starts giggling.

“Ohmigawd, that would be

anyone.Itwasawful.”Dallas laughs too. “Well,

the first time, anyway. Butthat was your fault and youknowit.”She shakes her head. “I

didn’t know you were avirgin.”“I’m glad you’re seeing

Bryce,” Dallas says. “He’s agoodguy.”She smiles at him.Beams,

really. “Thanks.And Ididn’treally mean that about

Chelsea.”“Yeah, you did.” He

chuckles.Shechuckles too.“Yeah, I

did.”I can’t hold it in any

longer.“I’msogladyou twomadeup!”AsI’mwalkingtomynext

class,Sharkwalksupnext tome.“I heard you’re escorting

Dawson onto the field but

going to the banquet withAiden.Youknowthat’snevergonnafly.”“It’sflyingjustfine.”“I need some inside

information. So, who yagonnachoose,girlie?”“I don’t know, Shark.

You’re the oddsmaker. Youtellme.”“Let’sflipacoin.”Ilaugh.“Alreadydidthat.”“Whowon?”“Dawson.”

“Didyoujustfliponce?”“No. First flip, he won.

Thenhewontwooutofthree.Then he won another singlecointoss.”“Soyouflippedfourtimes,

and Aiden came up howmanytimes?”“Onlyonce,”Isaysadly.“Guess I’m gonna have to

rethinkthis.”“Do people really bet on

thisstuff?”“Hell,yeah.”

Mycavemanfantasy.7:25pm

“I’m going to Columbia thisweekend to hang out withCam, since you’ll be busywithyourplaystuff.”“My play stuff? Dawson,

it’s the play. Are you not

comingtowatchit?”“I figured I’d sit in on

dress rehearsal. That’s thesamething,right?”“Uh, yeah. I guess. Are

you going to hook up withothergirls?”“I don’t know,” he says,

lookingguilty.“You already have a date,

don’tyou?”“It’s not a date. It’s more

of an implied hookup. Somegirl sawmy picture and told

Camshe’dhookupwithme.”ThisupsetsmemorethanI

thought itwould. I try tonotlookathim.I’mafraidifIdo,I’llcry.“Keatie, look at me. Say

something.”ButIcan’t.I’mthinkingof

that sweet, sexy face kissinganothergirl.Ibitemylipandfightbacktears.“I’m sorry. You’re right.

Thisisn’taneasysituation.”Iquicklywipethetearsoffmy

face.Hepullsme intoahug. “I

don’twanttomakeyoucry.”“Iknow.I’msorry.It’sjust

that after this weekend, IthoughtIwasgoingtochoosejustyou.But thenAidentoldmehewants to build a brickhouse together. He says youandIhaveastrawhouse.”“Areyou talkingabout the

threelittlepigs?”“Yeah, Iguess.Areweall

aboutsex,really?”

“Thatreallypissesmeoff,”he says, his anger flaring.“Stoplettinghimsayshitlikethat to you. It’s like he’strying to freaking brainwashyou. I love you. I love sexwith you. Sex is a part ofshowinglove.I’malsotryingto show you I love you inotherwaystoo.”“Likebynotcomingtomy

play to go hook up atColumbia?”“That’s not fair. Maybe

I’m trying to make youjealous?Everthinkofthat?”“No.”“Okay,fine.Nosex.”“What?”“You heard me. No sex. I

won’thavesexwithyouuntilyouchooseme.”Um, this is a twist in the

plot I didn’t imagine. Whycan’tIgetafreakingscriptofmyownlife?But no, that’s bullshit. No

way he’s going to say no. I

runmyhandsuphisshirtandkisshisneck.“But,Dawes...”“That’s not gonna work,

Keatie. Trust me, I know allyourlittletricks.”I lie on his bed and cover

myface.Heliftsmyhandandpeeksatme.“Your pouting isn’t going

toworkeither.”“I’mnotpouting. I’mvery

close to a major meltdownhere, Dawson. Don’t mess

withme.”“Talk to me. I’ve always

beenyourfriend.”“I feel like if I choose

Aiden, I have to make thislifelong commitment. Butthen . . .” I look away fromDawson. I’membarrassedbythispart.“Nevermind.”“Keatie,baby,tellme.”“It’stooembarrassing.”“Did you fart or

something?”“No.He . . .He . . .He’s

never kissed me with histongue!”Dawson’s eyes get wide,

and he shakes his headsideways.“Areyouserious?”“Somortifyinglyserious.”He wraps his strong arms

around me. “Come here,Keatie.Whyareyoucrying?”“I don’t know,” I say,

pushing back the tears. “Igottago.Doyouwannawalkmetothelibrary?”“The library?” he asks as

we walk toward it. “Don’tyouhaverehearsal?”“No,tomorrownightisour

fulldressrehearsal,sotonightthey’re working through allthe setchanges. I’mgoing totutor Aiden and finish myhomework.”“Are you doing better?

Youseemalittlebetter.”“Iam.Dawson,ifyouwant

to go hook up with a girl atColumbia this weekend, youcan.You’resingle.”

He pushes me against theoutside of the library andgives me a smoldering kiss.“Ilied.Istillwanttohavesexwith you. So get yourhomeworkdonefastandthengetyourasstomyroom.I’mgoingtodothingstoyouthatwillmakeyouscream.”I hear someone clear their

throat.IpeekaroundDawsonandseeAidenstandingthere.“Uh, Dawson. Aiden’s

here.I’ll,um,seeyoulater.”

Dawson smacks my buttandsays,“I’llbewaiting.”He gives Aiden a smirk

and a “S’up, Aiden,” as heleaves.I can’t even describe the

lookonAiden’sface.He.Is.Livid.I don’t knowwhat to say,

so I open the door to thelibrary.Just as I pass through the

firstsetofdoors,Aidengrabsmyelbowandherdsmeback

outside.“We.Need.To.Talk.”He’s doing something

similar to my angry march,which instantly spawns mycavemanfantasy.Maybehe’sgoing todragmeback tohiscaveandmakemehis.I want to say something.

Lightenthemood.ButIdon’tknowwhattosay.I’veneverseenAidenquite

likethis.He doesn’t even seem to

notice that it’s raining againwhen he drags me down thehill.He places me in front of

the soccer goal and starts topace in front of it, hisgorgeous Italian loafersgettingcakedwithmud.I’m so glad I left my rain

bootson.Hestopspacingandglares

atme.“Thisiswherewefirstmet.”He shoves his hand

through his hair like he’spissed at it too. “I can’t takethis anymore. I want you tobe my date for the banquet,but that means you have towearmyjerseyandescortmeonto the field. Period. Nonegotiation. Otherwise, youcan gowith Dawson. And ifyou do, I’ll give up. I’mtryinghere.I’mtryingtogiveyou time. I know you needit.”“You think I need time?

No. You need time. Youalways get mad at me andwalk away, and I knowyou’re still pretend punchingmyhead.”He shakes his head at me

and raises his voice. “Ofcourse, I have been! Youinfuriate me! I want to dragyou away from Dawson anytime I see you talking tohim!”“You get jealous? That’s

why you’re always mad at

me?”OMG!! YAY!!! I literally

want to do cartwheels in themud.He shakes his head at me

and sighs. “Well, that andsometimesyou’resodumb.”And this pisses me off a

bit. Okay, more than a bit.I’m like the porcupine thatjustflungoutitsspikes,readytofirethem.I’m dumb?! No, he said

I’msodumb.

JustwhenIthoughtmaybefatewasfinallyintervening.I breathe in through my

nose, and then snort thebreathout, likeabullgettingready to charge. I lowermyvoice and speak with a flatunemotional tone. “I’mwearingDawson’s jersey.Heasked me first. If you can’thandle that then I’ll be hisbanquetdatetoo.Uptoyou.”I turn around and stomp

away, purposely splashing

mud all over him.When I’mhalfway up the hill, I turnaround and yell, “And I amnotdumb!”Oh,Ihatehim!And then I realize that the

universe justspoke.Thecointosswasright.Hotsexitis.

As I’m marching toward

Hawthorne House to giveDawsonthegoodnews,IgetatextfromDallas.

Dallas:Whenyou’redone

with tutoring, will you comehelp me and Riley study forthe English quiz? We’reconfused. Could be becausewedidn’tactuallyreadPrideand Prejudice, but that’s justdetails.Me:Youinyourroom?

Dallas: Yes.Andwehave

snacks. Riley thought we’d

havetobribeyou.Me:I’llberightthere.

I give them a rundown of

the story, help themmemorize the study-guideanswers, and then tell themabout fate. About how I’mgoingtochooseDawson.“So why did you come

hereandnotgotellhimrightaway?”Rileyasks.“Because you needed my

help.”“Or maybe it’s because

you know he’s the wrongchoice,”Dallassays.I sigh, knowing they’re

right. I was glad for thedistraction. Even though theuniverse keeps telling me tochooseDawson, even thoughthisweekendwasthebestsexof my life, something keepsstoppingmefromdoingit.AndI’mprettysureit’smy

heart.

Dawson: You almost

done?Me:Yeah.I’mworkingon

EnglishnowwithDallasandyour brother, but we’re justfinishingup.Are you in yourroom?I’llcomedown.Dawson: Come down, or

godown?Me:Hmmm.Idk.

Dawson:I’llbewaiting.

And then a few minutes

later.Dawson:Naked.

Oh,lord.We’ll have some fun and

then I’ll tell him thatwe canget back together. Changethat stupid It’s complicatedstatus.

I snatch the review sheetout of Dallas’ hand. “Okay,so,Igottago.”I run down the hall and

take the stairs. I’m halfwaydown when Aiden comesmarchingup.Ifreeze.I can’t go anywhere.

There’snowheretohide.So I think, Be confident.

I’m cool, confident, andsophisticated.I’monmywaydown these stairs to meet a

gorgeous boy who isprobably—well, definitely—waiting for me naked. Hewantsme.Hedoesn’ttellmeI’m dumb. He thinks I’mawesome. I straighten upmyspine,stand tall,andwait forhimtonoticeme.He’s marching with his

head down, like he’s stillpissed. He sees my feet infront of him, specificallymybright yellow boots, stops,andglaresatme.

Toldya.Stillmad.I give him my best fake

smile and say coolly, “Hey,Aiden,s’up?”Ohmigawd, that sounded

so lame. Who says that tosomeone walking up thestairs? What’s up? He isheading up the stairs,obviously. I’m a lunatic.Seriously, lock me up now.He’sright.Iamdumb.“Whereareyougoing?”“I was just helping Dallas

and Riley with English andnowI’mheadedtoDawson’sroom.” Then I can’t helpmyself. I snicker.“Apparently,he’snaked.”Aiden grabs my arm and

dragsmeagain—thistimeupthe stairs and to his room.“Thisiswhyyou’redumb!”“Iamnotdumb!”He opens his door, grips

my hand tightly, pulls methrough it, and slams it shuthard.

Iwatchashiseyesquicklyscan the room. He picks meupandsetsmedownhardonhisdesk,sendinghisperfectlystacked books onto the floorintheprocess.Thenhis lips land hard on

mine,kissingme.It’s a full hot-tongue-

straight-into-my-mouthkiss.He grabs my tongue and

sucksonit.His hands are firmly

behindmyneck, likeI’mnot

allowed to pull away fromthiskiss.NotthatIwantto.It'shot.No.It'snothot.It's incendiary. Like the

white-hot blazes of theunderworld.Or the electrical charge of

alightningbolt.A god’s full power has

beenunleashedonme.His tongue is destroying

mymouth.Devastatingit.He’sowningitlikenoboy

everhas.He untangles his tongue

frommineandsays, “You’redumb because you can’t seethat I’mso fucking jealous, Ican barely function. So I’mgonna ask you one last time.Will. You. Wear. My.Jersey?”Iwanttocry.“Ye—”Idon’tevengetthe

wordoutbeforehismouth is

backonmine.Iwant togoonrecordand

thank Zeus and Aphroditeandwhoeverelsehadahandin making this boy’s skillfultongue.I run my hands roughly

down his chiseled back andgrabhisequallyamazingass,pullingittowardme.He leans his chest tightly

intomineandIwrapmylegsaroundhiswaist.In this position, I can feel

that powerful godly toolstraining for freedom underhispants.Oh, that sounds like a

romance novel. I likeromancenovels,buthisgodlytool should not be how Idescribehisboyhood.No. Manhood. That thing

throbbing against me is allman.No,it’sallfreakinggod.His tongue goes so deeply

inmymouththatI’mpushed

roughlydownacrosshisdesk,causingmetoalmostscream,UnleashtheTitan!Oh.My.God.Thisisit!He’s going to rip my

panties off and we’ll do itrighthere.Hell, I don't think my

pantiesareevenanissue.I’mprettysuretheymelted

clean off my body and arenothing but a little pile ofashessmolderingonthefloor.

Buthedoesn’t. Instead,hestopskissingme.Iopenmyeyes.Hisfaceis

just inches from mine. Hiseyesareclosedandheseemsto be trying to slow hisbreathing. Calming himselfdown.Butno!Iwanthimwildandoutof

control. I want this crazygod’s tongue. The tongue Ijustbarelygotatasteof.Thetongue that I’m already

famishedfor.He slowly backs further

awayandopenshiseyes.“God, you make me

crazy.”“At least now I know that

you like me as more than afriend.”“When have I ever given

youafriendvibe?”“Um, when you said you

wanted to bemy friend afterthestars.”“I do want to be your

friend, Boots. I want to beyoureverything.”“Everything? Then why

didyoujuststop?”“Becausewehavetostop.”Iletmyhandsdanceacross

theedgeofhisshorts.“WhatifIdon’twantto?”He takesmyhands off his

shortsandplacestheminmylap.“Thelastthingyouneedis

to rush into sexwith anotherguy.”

The way he says it makesmescowlathim.He doesn’t have a clue

whatIneedbecauseifhedidI’dbenakedonthisdesk.No,not even naked. Pants halfdown. Skirt pushed up.Hammering, nailing, andscrewing.Hekissesmyforeheadand

says,“Stopwiththeface.”“You kissedmewith your

tongue.”I get the god-like smile.

“Wasitworththewait?““I’mnotsure.CanIcheck

again?”He picks me up off his

desk, laysmeacrosshisbed,andkissesmesomemore.Withhistongue.

Alwaysgoesbacktosex.10:30pm

Isqueakintothedormjustatcurfew, plop onto my bed,andlookatmyphone.Dawson:Areyoucoming?

Me: No, sorry. I ran into

Aiden on the stairs. It’s along story, shit. Look, I’mgonnawearhisjerseyforthegame. I’m his date for thebanquet, so I think it’s theright thing to do. Don’t be

madatme.Dawson: Naw, it’s cool.

Brookeaskedmetodayifshecould wear mine. She has acollege boyfriend, so I’ll justtellheryes.Me: Oh, that works out

goodthen.I lie inbed, thinkingabout

coin flipping and evil, whilecreeping around on

Facebook. I pray that Aidennever does one of thosethingswhereit tellshimwhohis top followers are. I’vetotally been stalking hisprofilesinceschoolstarted.Myphonebuzzes.I drop it, feeling like I’ve

been caught, when Aiden’snamepopsuponthescreen.“Hey,” I say, my voice

lowered, so I don’t wake upKatie.“Hey, Boots,” he says

dreamily.I swear Iwant towakeup

to that every morning of mylife. To the sound of, “Hey,Boots.”“I figured you’d be asleep

bynow,”Isay.“I should be. I was lying

herethinkingabouttonight.”“Really?Whatabout?”“Just trying to figure out

whattodowithyou.”“What do you want to do

with me?” I ask coyly,

thinking he will tell mesomething sexual. Especiallyafter the hotness on his deskearlier.“Tell me more about the

framework.” I think about his

framework. His tall, leanbody. His perfect muscles.Hisbeautifulskin.“Youstillthere?”“Oh, uh, yeah. I just think

it would help if you tell mehow you’re feeling about

stuff.”“I’ve been trying not

pressure you. You once toldme something about theKeats guy. That you didn’tknow if he loved you somuchheletyougo,orhe letyougobecausehedidn’tcareenough. I want you to knowwithme.Iwantyoutoknowexactlywherewestand.“Tonight, when you were

mad, I felt like I finallyknew.”

“All thewooingI’vedone,and you didn’t alreadyknow?”“No. You’re hot and cold

withme.That’sconfusing.”“And you’re like an

unsolvable puzzle. Aconundrum.”“I confuse you? Do you

wanna know what I wassittinginmybeddoingwhenyoucalledme?”“Isitbad?”“Alittle.”

“Tellme.”“I was looking at all your

Facebook pictures. I look atthem almost every night. Ihide under my covers, soKatiedoesn’tknowwhatI’mdoing.”“I lookatyourpicturesall

the time too. You aren’t bigon posting stuff, though. IthoughtIcouldfindoutwhatyouweredoing,whatyouarethinking, but you don’t giveawaymuch.”

“I’m kind of a privateperson.”“Ilikethat.”Heyawns.“Yousoundtired.”“Iam.I’mlookingforward

tothisweekend.”“Doyouwannaknowwhat

I’mlookingforwardto?”“Yes.”“Yourtongue.”Helaughs.It’sasexy,deep

laugh. The kind of laugh Iwanttoheareveryday.“Itwasagoodkiss.”

“Yeah,itwas.”“Night,Boots.”

Gettinghead.1am

I call Dallas. “I can’t sleep.You and Riley wanna go totheCave?”“Riley snuck out to meet

Ariela. Lucky for you, I’mfreetonight.”

As we’re walking to theCave, I ask, “I haven’t heardmuchaboutthepsychicpantyhotline lately. You stillstalkinggirls’panties?”“Moreliketakingthemoff.

No,meltingthemoff.”“I’m pretty sure that my

pantiesmeltedoffmetonight.Aiden got pissed off, pushedmeonto his desk, and kissedme.Tongueandeverything.”“It’sabouttime.”He folds a towel into a

longstripandputsitdownonthe damp log, lights up ajoint,takesahit,andhandsittome.“So,doesthatmeanyou’re

choosinghim?”I take a hit. Let myself

mellow. “Wanna hearsomethingreallylame?”“Ofcourse.”“Yesterday, I was so

desperatethatIflippedacointodecide.”“Oh,Iknowagoodpickup

lineaboutthat.”“Really,what?”He giggles at himself then

says, “If I flip a coin, whatarethechancesofmegettinghead?”“That’s really funny.” I

startgigglingandcan’tstop.“So,backtochoosing.”“Buzzkill.”“Sowhywashepissed?”“He told me I couldn’t

wearDawson’sjerseyifIwasgonnabehisdate.”

“Good for him. It’s abouttime he put an end to thisnonsense.”“And then he kissed me

with his tongue,” I saydreamily.“So Aiden’s tongue kiss

beatwhatDawsondidtoyouthisweekend?”“Yeah.”“I think I’m still hung

over.”“Dawson told me that

when I feel like stopping,

that’s how I’ll know Ishould.”“And what do you feel

like?”“Ifeellikestopping.”

Thursday,November3rd

Anobleprofession.Drama

Right after drama class isfinished,myteacherpullsmeaside.“Keatyn, I don’t know if

you’ve heard about this yet,but there’s a nationwidesearch going on for anAbbyJohnston look-alike to star ina remake of one of hermovies. I just got this letteraboutittoday.Lookslikethisproducer, Vincent Sharpe, issending them to dramadepartments all over the

country.”Holyshit.He continues. “I was

thinking of nominating you.Youhavethelookandyou’requite talented. A natural,really.”Maintain your breathing,

Keatyn.Don't show him that you

are internally freaking thefuckout.“Um, I’d prefer that you

didn’t.I’mnotreadyyet.”

“Actually, I think you areready.You'reoneofmymosttalentedstudents.”This temporarily stops me

fromfreakingout.“Really?” He thinks I’m

talented? Ohmigawd, that’ssoawesome.“Yes. Have you ever

thought of making a careeroutofacting?”Don't say yes. Have a

worthyprofessioninmind.Adoctor. Like you told

Dawson’smom.“No, sir, I want to be a

doctor. Like, a pediatricdoctor. Um, probablyspecializing in children'scancer.Iwanttosavelives.”“Oh, well, that's a noble

profession.”“Yes, sir, and it's my

dream. I had a, um, cousinwhodiedfromit.Hispassingaffectedmedeeply.Iwanttodevote my life to the cause.But acting is a fun creative

outlet. I also love ceramicsandpainting.”Ohmigawd, I am such a

liar!“Okay, well, then we

probably won't be needingthis,huh?”“No,sir.Definitelynot.”Hewads it into a ball and

tosses it into the trash thengoes over to deal withsomethingonstage.Iwaituntilhe'snotlooking

then pretend to put my gum

in the trash but, instead, Igrabtheletterandstuffitintomybag.Irunoutoftheauditorium.

StraighttoCooper’soffice.I barge through his door,

flushed from running.Whitney’s leaning over hisshoulder, pointing to a paperonhisdesk.I must have a wild-eyed

expression because Coopersaystoher,“MissClarke,I’mafraid I’m going to have to

cutourmeetingshort.Ithinkwe covered most everythinganyway.” He quickly escortshertothedoor.Afterheshuts thedoor,he

holds a finger up to his lips,tellingmetokeepquiet.Heopenshisdoorbackup

and totallybustsWhitneyforstillstandingthere.“Come with me, Keatyn,”

hesays,holdinghishandoutto me. “Let’s get you to thenurse.”

Cooper and I walk up thehill to the nurse’s office, butdon’tgo in thedoor. Instead,he pulls me behind thebuilding.“What’swrong?”I fish the paper out ofmy

bagandshowhim.“It’s addressed to the

dramadepartment.”“Yes, they were sent to

high school dramadepartmentsnationwide.”“Thisguyisreallysmart.”

“I know. He’s brilliant.The director pulledme asideand said he was going tonominateme.”Cooper’s body quickly

goesfromrelaxedtorigidandreadytostrike.“Didhe?”“No.HeaskedmeifIwas

interested.”“Whatdidyousay?!”“Lied. Told him some

bullshit story about a cousindyingandhowIwantedtobea pediatrician not an actor.

ThatI’mnotinterested.”“Didhebuyit?”“Yeah.Ithinkso.HesaidI

guess we won’t be needingthisandthrewitinthetrash.Igotitout.”“You get to soccer. I’m

going tocallGarrett then I’llsee if I can take the directoroutforabeer.”“We have dress rehearsal

tonight.”“All the more reason the

manwillneedabeerlater.”

“Okay.”I bitemy lip to keep from

crying.He patsmy back. “It’ll be

okay.I’llmakesure.”I walk like I’m going

toward the field house, but Ican’t. I’m close to abreakdown.I’m not a good enough

actresstopretendanymore.Because,allofasudden,it

doesn’t feel as safe hereanymore.

And I really don’twant tohavetoleave.I make a beeline for the

chapel, knowing no one willbethere.I sit in a pew, crying and

praying out loud. “Pleasedon’t let it happen. Pleasedon’t letanyonedoit.Pleasedon’tlethimfind...”Aiden sits down next to

me. “Don’t let him findwho?”My eyes get huge. What

did I just say? What was Ipraying?Whatdidhehear?“Um, what did you just

hear?”“Iheardwhatyoujustsaid.

Pleasedon’tlethimfind...”“My friend. The friend I

toldyouaboutbefore.”“Did something happen to

her?”I close my eyes, fighting

backmoretears,butIcan’t.Icover my face and startsobbing.

Aiden immediately pullsmeintohischestandrunshishand down the back of myhair.I get all my crying out of

mysystem.Then I lookupathimand

say, “You should be atfootball.”“And you should be at

soccer. Tell me whathappened.”Ishakemyhead.“Nothing.

She’sfine.Itwasjustanother

scare.Itshookmeup,Iguess.And I’m upset aboutsomethingelse.”“What?”“My little sister is turning

three, and I’m going tomissherparty.”“Why?”“Um, well, because her

party is Monday. We haveschool.”“AretheyinFrance?”“Not right now. My

stepdad has business in

Vancouver, so they’recelebratingthere.”He nods at me. “So, you

should go. You can miss acoupleofdaysofschool.Andthe play will be over. It’sperfect timing. Heck, I’ll gowithyouifyouwant.”“Oh,um, that’s reallynice

of you, Aiden, but it’s notnecessary.”“Does thatmean you’ll go

byyourself?”I smile at him. “Yeah.

You’reright.Ishouldgo.”“I’mserious.Ifyouchange

your mind and wantcompany,I’llgowithyou.”“Thanks,Aiden.”As we stand up, he hands

me a crumpled piece ofpaper. “I think you droppedthis.”“Thanks,” I say,

automatically. But then I seethatit’sVincent’sletter.Ican’tspeak.“Are you thinking about

doing this? You do kindaresemble her. And you wanttoact.Thiscouldbeyourbigbreak.”“No!” I yell at him. “I

don’t want a break! I don’tlook anything like her. Ichanged my mind. I don’tlikebeingintheplay.Infact,I hate it! I’m never actingagain.”Hewatchesmyoutburst.“Um, okay. Are you sure

you’reokay?”

“Notreally.”He grabs my hands and

puts his forehead againstmine. “You can trust me,Boots. You can tell meanything.”I stare into his emerald

eyes and know deep withinmy soul thatwhat he says istrue.IknowIcantrusthim.Iwanttotrusthim.ButIcan’t.Iwipemyeyesandsay,“I

havetogettosoccer.Cooper

will have my ass. Probablymake me run stairs orsomething.”“Yeah, I should get going

too.Yousureyou’reokay?”Itakeadeepbreath.“Yeah,I’llbefine.”Ihope.

I’m rushing to get out on

the soccer field whenWhitneystepsout in frontofme.“You andMr.Steele seem

awfully cozy. You’re alwayssneaking around talking tohim.”“He’smysoccercoach.”“What did you need that

wassourgent?Anddon’ttellmeit’syourankleagain.Youwerejustrunning.”“I almost passed out in

soccertheotherday.”“Youpregnant?”“Uh,no.”“Thenwhynot just go see

the nurse yourself . . .” She

stops and stares at me withher mouth open. “Are youpregnantwithhisbaby?”“What?He’sbeenherefor

like a week. That’s not evenpossible.”“Actually, he’s been here

for two weeks now. It’stotally possible. Is that whatwas going on that day whenhe was yelling at you?” Hereyes get big again. “Did herapeyou?”“Oh, for god’s sake,

Whitney. No. He’s nice. Hewouldneverdothat.”Shegrinsatme.“Justhow

niceishe?”“He’s my coach. There is

nothinggoingonbetweenus.Iamnotpregnant.”She taps a finger on her

chin. “Besides, how wouldyou know if it’s his orDawson’s?”“That would be easy. If I

was pregnant—which I amnot—Dawson is the only

possiblefather.”Shekeepsstandinginfront

ofme,soIsay,“Excuseme,Ihavetogettopractice.”

Ican’tletyoudothis.3:25pm

“Cooper, I need to talk toyou.”

“Sure,comeinmyoffice.”He looks to make sure no

one is around and then shutsthedoor.“Youwerelateforsoccer.”“Iknow.Iwasupsetabout

the letter and needed a fewminutes to pull myselftogether.” He nods inunderstanding as I pull theletter out of my bag. “Willyougetridofthis?”“Sure.” He flattens it out

onhisdeskandstaresatitas

Italk.“So a couple things. First

thing, Whitney thinks I’mhavingyourbaby.”“Whatthehell?Why?”“Because she asked why

you took me to the nurse’soffice. I told her I felt like Iwas going to pass out insoccertheotherday.”“And out of that she

decidedyou’repregnantwithmybaby?”“Apparently. I toldhershe

was silly.Butwe need to becarefularoundher.She’sverymanipulative and she wantsyou.Shewillkeepgoinguntilshegetsyou.”“She’snotgoingtogetme.

But you’re right. We’ll bemore careful about what wetalkaboutwhenshe’saround.She did make a snidecommentaboutyoutheotherday.”“Second thing, I’m going

toVancouveronMondayfor

mysister’sbirthdayparty.”“Thehellyouare.”“No,Iam.”“With everything that’s

going on, you want to go tothe one place that he willexpect you to turn upeventually?”“Yeah,buthere’sthething.

He’s going to be in Miamithis Saturday, Sunday, andMonday doing auditions. Hewon’t be anywhere nearVancouver.”

Coopercloseshiseyesandshakes his head. “I’m surehe’ll have someone at theairport.Hecan findoutwhatairport you came from andpinpointwhereyou’vebeen.”“So we’ll take different

flights. Different charters.Switch airports. That’s whatwedidwhenIcamehere.”“No.Noway.”“Cooper, it's my life. My

decision.”“Ican'tletyoudothis.”

“You don't have a choice.I’m going. With or withoutyou.”ThenIsoftenmyvoicebecause Iwanthim toknow.“But I’d feel safer if it waswithyou.”“God, you’re stubborn.

Fine.I'llfigureoutaway.Butitwillbejustyouandme,noone else. You can't tellanyone.”“Iwon’t.”“I’ll work out the details.

We’llhavetoleaveveryearly

Mondaymorning.”IsmileathimasIwalkout

thedoor.“Whateveryousay,Cooper.”I’m barely out the door

when I feel someone staringatme.I turn my head to see

Whitney. The crinklebetweenhereyesisdeep.I pray she didn't hear us

talking about going toVancouver.She starts to open her

mouth, but I can't deal withherrightnow.Iholdmyhandup and say, “Mindyour ownbusiness,Whitney.”

Thebiggesture.6:50pm

Logan slumps down next tomebeforerehearsalstarts.“Lunch used to be my

favoritetimeoftheday.NowI hate it. Jake’s been sittingwith us and he flirts withMaggie. Why can’t he justtakehertohisowntable?”“Because he got mad at

Whitney. I don’t think he’llgo back there. And that’ssaying a lot becauseDawsonis his best friend and he andBrycestillsitthere.Butthat’snotreallywhatmatters.Whatmatters is what you’re goingtodoaboutit.”

“There’s a romancemoviethat she loves. Where theytalkaboutthebiggesture.”“Oh, I’ve seen that. Isn’t

she thePresident’s daughter?Andshegoesoffonwhatshethinks is an adventurethrough Europe with adreamy guy but it turns outhe’s really an agentprotectingher?”“Yeah,that’stheone.”“Thatguywashot.”“That’sbesidesthepoint.”

“Whatisthepoint?”“I want to make the big

gesture.Winherback.”“Logan, what really

happened that night? I knowshe got drunk and sleptwithParker,butwhy?”“Why? Because she was

drunk.”“Iknow Ididn’t knowher

then,butMaggie isa lot likeme. She likes to party. Shedrinks. Gets tipsy. A littledrunk.But never that out-of-

control drunk where youdon’t know what you’redoing. Something had totriggerit.”Logan looks at the ground

and sighs. Then he puts hisface in his hands and shakeshis head. “I was the trigger.Wegotinafightthatnight.”“What was the fight

about?”“Agirl.”“Whatgirl?”“Doesn’tmatter.Therewas

this girl that I was texting.Maggie saw the texts. Itlookedbad.”“So you were cheating on

her?”“Wenever hungout.Only

texted. But the texts weresexual. She went out thatnight, got drunk, and sleptwithParker.”“Sherebounded.”Henodssadly.“You have to forgive her,

Logan.Letitgo.”

“Iknow.Iwantto.I’mjustnotsurewhattosay.”“Then let’s script you a

new ending.No. It will be anewbeginning.What is yourbiggestureidea?”“Iwasthinkingofbringing

herhere.Onstage.Infrontofthe moon backdrop andtellingherhowIfeel.”LoganandIwork together

on the script. Figuring outwhatheshouldsay.“What do you think I

shouldwear?ShouldIstillbein my prince costume? Orwouldthatbecheesy?”“Sometimes cheesy is

good.”We continue our

collaboration. Each of uswriting down lines, crossingthemout,andthenrewriting.“Logan, you can’t say

death by paper cuts. That’snotromantic.”“Okay, well scratch that.

What do you think I should

say?”Ithinkforasecond.“Oh!I

knowtheperfect line,” Isay,quicklywritingitdown.“That’s really deep, if you

think about it. How did youcomeupwiththat?”I smile. “Someone said it

tomeonce.”“They were right. It’s

almost like coming full-circle. Maggie and I startedout together and hopefullywe’llenduptogether.”

“Full-circle. I neverthoughtofitthatwaybefore.So are you going to doanything else? Flowers,maybe?”“Whatkind?”“Youknow,lotsofflowers

have specific meaningsattachedtothem.Letmelookituponmyphone.Well,let’ssee. Daffodils represent newbeginnings and unrequitedlove. That might be a goodone.Oh,wow,Ididn’tknow

this.Lavenderrosesrepresentlove at first sight. Did youandMaggiehavethat?”“Love at first sight? No,

notreally.Itwasmaybemoreloveatfirstkiss.Ourfirstkisswasmemorable.”“Tellmeaboutit.”“She came to my lacrosse

game. I scored the winninggoal, and she came down tocongratulate me. I grabbedherandkissedher.Veryspur-of-the-moment. She was

surprised by it. Hell, I wassurprisedbyit.Upuntilthen,we’djustbeenfriends.Anditisn’t the kiss that I reallyremember;it’safter.Thewayshelookedintomyeyes.Ifellin love with her then andthere.”I do a little happy clap.

“That’ssoadorable.”Loganrollshiseyesatme.

“Do you really think thisscript will work? What ifMaggie doesn’t say what

she’ssupposedto?”“I think she will say most

of it. Or something close.And if not, ad-lib. Justremember the order.Apology. Confess your love.Full-circle line. True love’skiss.Flowers.”“I better get up there.

Thanks,Keatyn.”Aiden’s backpack hits the

floor, startling me. “What’dyoudo?”heasks.“Oh,uh,helpedhimwitha

script. He’s hoping to winbackMaggie.”“He’sbeenmiserable.”“Iknow.”Dawsonplopsdownonthe

other side of me. “Hey,Keatie, can’twait to see youin that sexy little costume.Giddy up.” Then he goes,“Oh, hey, Aiden. Didn’t seeyousittingthere.Youheretowatchdressrehearsaltoo?”Aiden curls his hands into

aball.“Yeah.”

I smile at Aiden and runmy finger across his fist,hoping it will calm himdown.“I have to go get ready.

Enjoytheplay,boys!”Dawson is waiting for me

by the stage door. He’sclearly trying to mark histerritory. I need to talk tohim. I haven’t kissed himsince Aiden kissed me withhis tongue.And Idon’twant

to.“So,whatdidyouthinkof

theplay?”“I thought you looked

sexy.”“Whatdidyouthinkofthe

restoftheplay?”“Itwasgood.Kindafunny.

Somepeoplemessedup.”“That’s why you have a

dress rehearsal. The showwillbemuchbetter.”“Are you coming back to

myroom?”

“Actually,yeah.”Aidenwalksuptomewith

a big grin on his face. I cantellhewantstotalktome.“Aiden, I’mgoing towalk

back to the dorms withDawson.I’lltalktoyoulater,okay?”Aiden looks pissed, but

then his face softens and hesays, “Vous avez volé lespectacle.”His comment makes me

beam, and blush. “Thank

you.”Dawson grabs my hand

and pulls me outside. “Whatdidhejustsaytoyou?”“HesaidIstoletheshow.”

I seriously can’t stopsmiling.Whenwe get in his room,

Dawson immediately tries tokissme.“Ireallywaswaitingfor you naked the othernight.”“Um,Dawson?”He looks at me sexily,

expectantly.“What,Keatie?”“Remember how you said

when I felt like stoppingthat’showI’dknow.”“Yeah.”“Ifeellikestopping.”He backs away from me.

“Really?”Inod.“Is itbecauseI’mgoingto

Columbia?”“It’s sort of because of

everything.”“After last weekend? All

the fun we had? All the funyouhad?”“Yeah.”“You did it with him,

didn’tyou?”“No.We’veonlykissed.”“So the wooing won out

overthesex?”“I guess. I’m sorry,

Dawson. It’s late. I’ve gottago.”Igetbacktomyroomand

callAiden.

“Hey, sorry about that. IneededtotalktoDawson.”“Isthatwhatyou’recalling

it?”“When that’s what I was

doing,yes.”“Youwereinhisroom.”“I’m not going to stop

hanging out with him. He’smyfriend.”He doesn’t respond. I can

hearhimtakeadeepbreath.“He wanted to have sex

tonight.”

“I’msurehedid.That’sallhewants.”“It’snotallhewants.Iwas

going to tell you something,but never mind. Thanks forwatching the play, Aiden.And for what you said. Ireallyappreciateit.I’lltalktoyoulater.Night.”“No.”“No,what?”“Don’tgo.Tellme.”“Itoldhimno.”“Really?”

“Yes,really.”I feel something. An

overwhelming warmth wrapsaroundmy body. I close myeyes and know immediatelywhat it is. It’s the power ofAiden’s smile comingthroughthephone.“Are you smiling right

now?”Iaskhim.“I have a very big smile

rightnow,“hereplies.“I’m wearing your jersey

tomorrow.”

“Ineedtogiveittoyou.”His comment makes me

whimper. Because I so wantAidentogiveittome.“Give me your shirt?” I

managetosay.“Meet me in the morning

forbreakfast?”“Sure.”“You really did steal the

show.”“I love that you said it in

French.”“Well, French is a sexy

language.Bonnenuit,Boots.”Igetupoffmybed.Katie

isinthebathroomputtingherhair in a ponytail. “Are youreadytogo?”“Yeah.AndI’msoexcited.

Didyou seewhat Imade forBryce?It’sonmydesk.”I look at the heart on her

desk. It’s got hot pink glitteraround the edges of it, afootball drawn in the middleof it, his number44, andhername at the bottom covered

inmoreglitter.“It’sreallypretty!Thisisa

cool tradition, don’t youthink?”“Yeah, we didn’t do

anything like this at my oldschool.Annie’scomingover.You should see what shemade for Ace. She’s soexcited because, you know,it’s usually the dancers andthecheerleadersthatdecoratethe boys’ locker room. It’scool that for this game the

escorts get to do it. Andsneaking out after curfew todecorate makes it feel thatmuchmoreexciting.”“You know we aren’t

really sneaking out. We’resupposedto.”“I know. It just makes it

seem funner. What did youmakeforAiden?”Igrabthepaperfootballoff

my desk and show it to her.It’s got a big green four-leafcloveron it, just like theone

he drew on the footballs, hisnumber 1, a cowboy boot,andthewordsort.“Whydidn’tyouputyour

nameonit?”“I did. The cowboy boot.

HecallsmeBoots.”“Really?Why?”“Because he didn’t know

my name when I first methim and I was wearingcowboyboots.”“Boots is the name of the

monkey on Dora the

Explorer. Do you want tohaveamonkeyname?”“I didn’t at first. Now, I

kindalikeit.”“I like when a boy gives

you a nickname that’soriginal. So why the wordsort?”“SortmeansfateinFrench.

He once told me that we’resortalikefate.”“Oh,that’sdreamy.I’mso

excited for neon day and theblack light pep rally

tomorrow afternoon. Do youhave an outfit planned?” Shelooks at me and shakes herhead.“Ofcourse,youhaveanoutfitplanned.”Maggie,Annie,andPeyton

burst through our door,waving construction paperand streamers. I know thatMaggie is wearing Jake’sjersey and Annie is wearingAce’s. “Peyton,whose jerseyareyouwearing?”“Dawson’s.”

“Dawson’s? I thoughtBrookewaswearinghis?”“No, she’s wearing

Brad’s.”“Oh,”Isay.Peyton wraps an arm

around me. “It will pissWhitney off.Butwait until Iget Super Cooper. That willreallypissheroff.”“SuperCooper?”“Yeah,abodylikethatand

he’sgot tobe likeSupermanbetweenthesheets.”

“Peyton!” Annie exclaims.“He’sateacher.”“AndIseriouslyneedtobe

taught,” Peyton says, whileMaggieandIsnicker.“Let’s go decorate!” Katie

yells.

Friday,November4thThehappytrail.

BreakfastIwakeupearly,dressmyselfinneon,putmyhairbackinto

a ponytail, and then rush tomeetAideninthecafé.He’salreadyhere.And he looks so adorable.

He’s got on a bright orangesweatshirt, white athleticshorts, and gold aviators. Hehands me a folded up jerseytowear tonight. I open it upand look at the number one.The name Arrington acrosstheback.And, yes, I go there.

KeatynArrington.

Doesn’tthatsoundpretty?“So I heard Dawson isn’t

going to be here thisweekend.”“Wheredidyouhearthat?”“Peyton. She’s his escort

but he’s not going to thebanquet.”“Yeah, he’s going home

withhisparents.”“Iheardhe’sgoingtoparty

withhisbrother.”“Yes,thattoo.Idon’twant

to talk about Dawson. Have

youseenyourlocker?”“Notyet.Didyoudecorate

itforme?”“I don’t know.” I smile.

“All these traditions are newtome.”He leans closer tome and

says sexily, “I have animportanttraditionthatIneedyourhelpwith.”“Oh, really?What kind of

tradition?”He responds by taking off

hisorangesweatshirt.

I swear to all the gods onMount Olympus thatsomeday I am going to runmy tongue down those abs.Followthehappy trailall thewaydown...“Uh, what? Did you say

something?”He flashes me a knowing

grin. “Yes. I said that it’syour job to paint this neonstuffonmeforthepeprally.”“Are you going to be

shirtlessforthepeprally?”

“Yeah, the cheerleadersaskedme tobe in theirskit.”He tosses the orangesweatshirt over his shoulderslike a cape. “I’m SuperCougar.”“I hate cheerleaders,” I

mutterundermybreath.“I heard that.”He bats his

brown eyelashes at me andsays, “Would you prefer oneofthempaintme?”“No!” I say, grabbing a

paintbrush out of his hand.

“I’lldo it. I’mreallygoodatart.”Like,sorta.Imean, I have paintedmy

own toenails in a crisissituation.Heholdsupsmalltubesof

yellow, orange, and greenneonpaint.I run up to the food line,

grab a paper plate, and thensqueezethepaintontoit.“Did they tell you what

theywanted?”

“I think just stripes hereandthere.”“Okay.” I dip the brush in

hiswater bottle then into thepaint. I carefully place thebrush on the end of hiscollarbone, trace it over hisshoulder, then slowly downhis arm to his hand. Goingovereachandeverymuscle.Irepeat the procedure on hisother side, using the orangeinsteadoftheneonyellow.Then I run stripesof color

straight across his stomach,the brush slowly glidingacross all the places mymouthlongstobe.Aiden shifts

uncomfortably.“Did I do something

wrong?” I ask, standingbackupfromwhereIwaskneelinginfrontofhim.“Uh,no,”hesays,clearing

hisvoice.Ibrushmorepaintontohis

skin directly above his

waistband where his shortsareridinglowonhiships.Hegroansa littleand then

steals the paintbrush out ofmyhand.“Yourturn.”“Myturn...”Istarttosay

as he quickly paints stripesacrossmycheeks.I stick my finger in the

paint and run it down thesides of his cheeks. Makinghim look like a warrior godgettingreadyforbattle.He adds more paint down

thesidesofmyarms.Imovemyneonsunglasses

from the top of my headdown to cover my eyes. “Ican’t be seen with all thispaintonmyface,”Itease.Thenhesetsthepaintbrush

down,curlsuphisfist,placesit gently undermy chin, andkissesme.

Thesexualone.

LunchI'm walking toward the caféwhenDawsongrabsme.“Weneedtotalk,”hesays.He has my hand and is

dragging me toward ourbench.“Doyouknowwhat today

is?”“Friday. The big Compass

Cup game day. Are younervous?”

“It’s our two monthanniversary.Thesexualone.”“Oh.”“Are you in love with

him?”I rub my hand across my

eyebrow and slump myshoulder.“Idon’tknow.”“I don’t know what I’m

gonnadothisweekend.”“Ifyou’reaskingmeifit’s

okay to hook up with somegirl,I’mgoingtogiveyouthesame advice you gave me.

Whenyoufeel likeyouwantto,youwill.”“Idon’tfeellikeIwantto.

Butthen,Ido.”“Dawson, just the fact that

we can sit calmly and talkabout this should probablytellusbothsomething.”“That we’re better off as

friends?”“Probably.”“You made me believe in

loveagain.”“Iwasbrokentoo.Stillam.

Love sucks. Ormaybe I justsuck.”Dawson grins at me and

jabs his elbow teasingly intomy side. “I always liked thataboutyou.”“Happy Anniversary,

Dawson,” I say, kissing hischeekandlaughing.“Sit with me at lunch,

today?”“Okay.”“Whoever you date better

be good with us being

friends.”“I won’t date them if

they’renot.”As we walk back to the

café,Isay,“IheardPeytonisyourescort.”“She wants to piss off

Whitney.”“I think pissing Whitney

offisabadidea.Whydoyoukeep sitting at her table,Dawson? Jake’s left. Really,everyone’sleft.”“They’ll be back. It’s

alwaysbeenourtable.”

Iwannagetlucky.Peprally

The football guys are gettingsetupfortheirspeeches.AsIwalkbyAce,Dawson,

and Logan with mypompoms, Logan calls out,

“Keatyn,wait! Iwant you tohave one of these.” Heflashes a clover tattoo at mefromthestackinhishand.“What’s with all the

fucking clovers?” Dawsonasks.“Shouldn’t they be cougar

paws?”Aceadds.“They’re for luck,” Logan

tells them both. “Don’t youwannabelucky?”“I wanna get lucky,” Ace

says,fist-bumpingDawson.

Iraiseaneyebrowatthem.“Oh,” Ace says. “I mean,

uh, you know. With the bigvictory.”I roll my eyes and walk

away.Logan followsme. “These

are for the team, but I savedyouone.”Hepours somewater on a

paper towel then looks meover.“Right there,” he says,

pointing to my hip, right

above wheremy other tattoois.As he’s putting the tattoo

on me, I say, “That’s rightabovemyothertattoo.”“Youhaveatattoo?”“Yeah.” I pull down the

waistband of my neon greendanceskirtandshowhim.“What’sthatmean?”“Itstandsforchaos.”“Luckandchaos.Perfect.”“Whyisitperfect?”“Because we’ve lost the

last threeyears running.Andtonight,” he yells out loud,“there’sgoing tobe chaos inConnecticut!”“Chaos in Connecticut!”

everyonecheers.Maggie walks by without

saying anything, so I grabher.“CanMaggiehaveone?”Logan looks her up and

down and smirks. “I don’tknow.Whatdoyouthink?”“I think she needs one

morethanyoudo.”He nods. “You can have

mine,Maggie.”“Hold still, Maggie,” I

boss.“He’llputitinthesamespotasmine.”“Naw, different spot,” he

says,holdinghergaze.Then he shocks us both

whenheplacesitrightaboveherheart.“Now you’ll be lucky in

love,” he says and walksaway.

Maggieputsherhandoverthetattooandvisiblymelts.But then she squints her

eyes at me. “Why does hewantmetobeluckyin love?DoeshewantmewithJake?”“Maybe he wants to be

luckyinlovewithyou.”“That would take more

than luck,” she says. “Thatwouldtakeamiracle.”

Thebiggame.

7pmThere's excitementeverywhere. Pompomswave.Peoplecheerastheteamrunsout of the locker roomthrough a blowup cougarhead.Out of the corner of my

eye, I notice Riley grabAriela'shandandpullheroutof line, but then more guysrunbyand Idon’t seewhere

theygo.The big game is held at a

nearby college stadium andtheplaceispacked.All the escorts arewaiting

for the football players tocome off the field fromwarm-ups.InoticeArielahasaclover

tattooonhercheek.“DidRileygiveyouthat?”Sheputsherhanduptoher

cheek and smiles. When shedoes,Iseeaflashofpinkon

herlefthand.“Ohmigawd,didhe finally

ask?”Ijumpupanddown.She beams but then grabs

my hands and whispers,“Shhhh.Ihaven'ttoldanyoneyet.”“What'dhesay?Whendid

heask?” Iwhisperback, stillsort of jumping in placebecauseI'msoexcited.“Just before the game. He

gavemethetattoo,askedmeto be his lucky charm, and

then asked me to be hisgirlfriend.”Igiveherabighug.I'mso

excited.Then she looks at me and

says, “Wait. What do youmean,finallyasked?”“HeshowedmeandDallas

the ring weeks ago. Was allshyand saidyouhada thingfor Hello Kitty. Isn't itadorable?”“You didn't help him pick

itout?”

“Nope. He did it all byhimself. And I'm pretty surehehaditforawhilebeforeheevenshowedus.”“Hetoldmehelovesme,”

shewhispersbreathlessly.“Back off, Kiki, she's

mine,” Riley says loudly,wrapping an arm aroundArielaandplantingabigkissonherlips.“Officially.”“It's about time,” I say to

himBig hands curl around the

bareskinatmywaistsendingwavesofelectricitydownmysides. I turn around andimmediately get a spine-tinglingkissofmyown.“You look good as my

numberone,”Aidensays.“I saw you warming up.

The balls all have four-leafcloversonthem.”“Yeah, Coach saw all of

Logan's tattoos and asked usto put them on—since itworked before. Although it

seemedtopissDawsonoff.”“Why?”“Maybe because you have

acloveronyourhip?”Thegameisexciting.Abackandforthbattle.Dawson still seems to be

pissed at Aiden because he'sonlythrownonepasstohim.Although it might be the

fact that Dawson’s been ontherunmostofthenight.Ouroffensivelineishavingahard

time holding back theirdefense.Right before the half,

Dawson gets tackled and isslow to get up. Tyrese helpshimlimpofftotheside.ThecoachsendsRileyinto

replacehim.He linesup in the shotgun

positionandisstillcallingtheplay when one of thedefensive players rushesacross the line of scrimmageand tackles him flat on his

back.The crowd boos as the

official throws a flag. Rileystands up quickly, wraps hishand into the guy’s jersey,and gets in his face. I'm notsurewhathetellshimbuttheguy quickly moves back tohissideofthefield.Riley calls a timeout, runs

overtothebench,andhasananimated discussion with thecoach. Riley takes the fieldwith Logan and Aiden

followinghim.Theyalllineup,theballis

snapped, and Aiden andLogan both sprint down thefield in a crossing pattern.Logan's defender misses theread, so Aiden ends updouble-teamed and Logan iswideopen.Rileylaunchestheballtohimforthescore.Maggie is standingnext to

meinthedanceline.Logan runs past us, looks

atMaggie, and pats the spot

abovehisheart.She touches the clover

tattoo and smiles at him.Buther smile is tinged withsadnessandregret.I hope after the play

tomorrow night that regret isturnedtohope.After winning the game,

we're wandering around onthefieldcongratulatingalltheplayers.IlookforDawsontosee if he’s okay. Cam is

standing next to him, as arePeyton and Whitney. PeytonisflirtingwithCam.He'sgotabiggrinonhisface,clearlyloving theattention.Whitneyiswearingherboredlook.“How are you?” I ask

Dawson.“I’m fine, just took a shot

totheribs.Knockedthewindoutofme.”“He'll be fine. The girls

we’re hanging out withtonightarepre-med.”

Dawson tries to pull metoward him but winces andstops.“You'rereallyhurt.”“I’ll be okay,” he says,

steppingawayfromeveryoneelse.“I saw your face when

Camsaidthataboutthegirls.Youlookedsad.”“Thisishard,Dawson.”“Ithinkthetransitionback

to friends might be a littlerough.”

Inod.“You looked really happy

when you went out on thefield with Aiden. You don’tlook like thatwithme. EvenCamsaidso.”“You deserve a girl that

looks like that when she'swithyou.”Hegivesmeasadsmile.“I

felt really jealous, but not inthewayIexpected.MorelikeIwantthatsomeday.”

Realelectricity.

1:20amIgotoAiden’sroomtopartyand find him waiting for meoutsidehisdoor.He looks at me with such

dreamy eyes that I feel a bittipsy even though I haven’thad a drop to drink. “Come

in.”Iwalk inhis roomandam

confused. “Where iseveryone?”He grins big at me. “I

cancelledtheparty.”“But Katie went to a

party.”“They moved it to the

Cave. I told them theycouldn’t party in my roomanymore.” He points towardthe back of his room. “Thekegisgoneforgood.”

“Waseveryonepissed?”“Very. But I don’t care. I

thinkitwasyouwhotoldmeI should only worry aboutwhat the people I love think.Whatmyrealfriendsthink.”“WhatdoesLoganthink?”“He and Riley helped me

get the keg down to theCave.”“I’m proud of you,Aiden.

It’s hard to stand up to yourfriends. Do what’s right foryou.”

“What can I say? Youinspireme.”“Me?I’mamess.”“You’re not as much of a

messasyouthinkyouare.Doyouwannadance?”“No.”“Oh?”Helooksperplexed.

I think gods are not used tobeing told no. It’s like thewordbewildershim.“I’dratherkissyou.”Hesmiles, flashingall that

blinding, brilliant power at

me.Itouchhishandandleadhimtohisbed.We sit on the edge of his

bed,bothofusstaringateachother. I remember thinking itwas just a linewhen he toldme he could stare into myeyesallday,butnow I thinkhereallymeantit.When his lips touchmine,

theyshockme.And not his normal

electricalfeel.I’mtalking,heactuallyshocksme.

“Damn,Iknewyourkisseswere powerful, but I didn’trealize they could producerealelectricity.”He laughs, then looks at

me seriously. “My kisses arepowerful?”I swallow, breathe, and

nod. I’m afraid to sayanythingelse.Hetapsmylipwithhis finger to see if he’llget shocked again. Whenthere is no shock, he tracesmy bottom lip with his

finger.I kiss his finger. Then I

close my eyes and slowlysuckonit.Irunmytongueupthe side of it, across the tip,and then slide my mouthdownmostofhislongfinger.Heseemstolikeitbecause

he’s rubbing his hands hardup and down my back andleaning toward me. He rubsmy lower lip with his fingerwhen I let it slide out ofmymouth and hang there before

takingitdeepintomymouth.He makes a deep, throaty

noise. It’s thrilling to havethis effect on him just bykissing a finger. I can’t evenimagine what it will be likewhen I kiss something morepersonal.I finish sucking on his

finger and he gives me adeep,hardkiss.Hishandsrunwildly through my hair anddown my back. Our tonguesplay a fun game of cat and

mouse.Then he leans me back

acrossthebedandliesontopofme.Ipullhisshirtoff.Iwant—

no, I need—to feel his skinagainstmine.Irunmyhandsall over his smooth back,across his chest, down thefrontofhisabs,andthenbackagain. I want to memorizeevery muscle, every curve,everybulge,everything.Hekissesmyneck,soI’m

not really sure what exactlyI’mdoingnow.I justknowIneedmyhandsonhim.I’m rubbing, massaging,

and even letting my fingerstrail the line just underneathhis waistband, but not tryingtogoanyfurther.I could seriously spend

days, weeks, maybe months,kissinghim.I kiss down his neck and

suckonit.He makes the sexiest

noisesIhaveeverheard.While I’m kissing every

square inch of his neck, hepullsoffmysweatshirt.Well,Ihavetostopkissinghisneckfor a second while it comesover my head, but then IcontinuelikeIneverstopped.He runs his hands all over

my skin. Searing his nameinto my soul with everysingletouch.His hands are everywhere.

Touchingeverypartofme.

Well,everypartofmethatis naked. Which really isn’tmuch. Considering I’m stillwearingmybraandjeans.His fingers dance around

the edges of my bra, likethey’re trying to decidewhattodo.Ihavetoadmit,I’malittle

disappointed that he doesn’tunhookit.Until his lips move from

mynecktomychest.His tongue moves across

my cleavage and around theedgesofmybra.Likethefeather.Onlywithhistongue.Ichangedmymind.The feather isn’t my

heaven.It’shistongue.

Saturday,November5thThatlittleshit.

10:30am“We need to discuss thistrip,”Coopertellsme.I’min

his office after being calledin.Ihadgearedupforafight.ForhimtotellmeIcan’tgo.So, I’m pleasantly surprisedto hear that he’s beenplanningalready.“Okay.”“Obviously, we’ll leave

here separately and meet upattheairport.”“Okay.”“If at any time anyone

from school figures out thatweweregone together,we’ll

admitthatwewere.”“Really?”“Yeah. There’s an MMA

fight in Atlantic City. I’vebooked us separate rooms atthe hotel and bought ustickets. I have two friendswith our basic descriptionschecking us into our roomsand using our tickets. Theywill also be giving me ourreceipts.”“I don’t get why that’s

necessary.”

“Whitney has beensnooping around. It’simportant that I keep myjob.”“Okay. What about the

flights?”“Icharteredthemall.First,

we’re flying to South Bend,Indiana.You’ll bewearing abrown wig and, if anyoneasks, you’re there on acollegevisit.”“Thenwhat?”“Then,we’re renting a car

and instead of visiting thecollege, we’re driving twohours toChicago.We’lldropoff our rental car at O’Hare,catchacabtoanearbyhotel,and then go to a smallerexecutive airport. We’ll takethat charter to somewhereclosertoVancouver.”“Let’sgotoSaltLakeCity

and fly from there undermyrealname.”Cooper grins at me. “That

was one of the places where

he thought you might be,right?”“Yeah.”“Perfect. We’ll charter a

flight from there toVancouver under your realname. That way, he canfollow the trail there if hewantsto.”“But itwill lead to a dead

end.”“Exactly. This is going to

be exhausting. We’ll leavehere at 4am. With the time

difference, that shouldputustherearoundnoontheirtime.”“That’sperfect.Thankyou

so much, Cooper. You havenoideahowmuchthismeanstome.”He eyes a stack of papers

onhisdesk.“Ihavetoadmit,I never realized how muchworkteachingwouldbe.AndI’m basically teaching asenior slack-off class. I can’timaginewhatitwouldbelikeif I was teaching something

likehistory.”“Wait, did you say

seniors!?”“Yeah,why?”“Some juniors take health,

right?”“Um,no.Seniors only.To

prepare themforcollege.Wetalkabouttheiroverallhealth.It'snot justsex.It'snutrition,alcohol, drugs, exercise,stress control, and timemanagement.”“So if a junior toldme he

was taking a poll about sexfor health class, he waslying.”“Yes.”Ismile.Thatlittleshit.

Lifecanfollowascript.

11:15amI go to the auditorium to get

into hair and makeup. Wehave two performances backto back followed by the castpartytonight.Before the first

performance, Aiden textsme.HottieGod:CanIseeyou

before the play? Wish youluck?Me: You can see me

beforetheplay,butyoucan’t

wishmeluckoryou’lljinxit.That’s why you always saybreakaleg.Hottie God: Maybe that

was just an excuse to kissyou.I walk out the stage door

already dressed in mycheerleader costume for thefirstscene.Aiden immediately gives

me a sweet kiss. Then he

pulls a green marker out ofhispocket.“What’sthatfor?”“It’sforbreakingaleg.”“What?”He looks me over then

bendsdownononekneeandlifts up my cheerleadingskirt.Iwanttoaskhimwhatthe

hell he’s doing, but his handtouchesmythigh,makingmeincapableofspeech.He takes the lid off the

marker and puts the tip of iton my thigh. I can feel thathe’s drawing hearts on myleg.Butwhenhefinishesandletsmesee,Irealize thefourhearts are forming a perfectfour-leafclover.I fish inside my bra and

pull out the glass four-leafcloverhegavemebeforemyspeech. “I already had thiswithme.”“Inyourbra?”helaughs.Iholdmyhandsout.“Look

at this costume and tell mewhereelseIcould’veputit.”He lets his eyes wander

slowly down my skimpycostume.Whentheyreturntomeet mine, I see the fire inhis eyes.The passion that hehad that day he first kissedmewith his tongue. But thistime,he’snotmadatme.He kisses the glass clover,

tucks it back inside my bra,and says, “Break a leg,Boots.”

Our first performance of

the day goes off without ahitch. No one forgets theirlines and no one messes upthelighting,sound,orsets.Afterward, Aiden comes

backstage carrying a bouquetof lavender roses and whitefeathers.“Aiden,thesearebeautiful.

Love the feathers. I wonderwhat in the world they’re inreferencetoo?”

“I think you know exactlywhatboththefeathersandthelavender roses mean. Youwere amazing.You seriouslylightupthestagewhenyou'reonit.”I grin my widest smile. I

can't stop grinning. I don'tthinkI'veeverfeltsohappy.I’mnot sure if I lit up the

stage or not, but I do knowthatthestagelitupsomethinginsideofme.Iknowwithoutadoubtthat

acting is what I want to dowithmylife.“I think you’re going to

change your mind aboutacting,” he goes on to say.“You may not think you’reready, but you are. It’sobvious.”IstarttodisagreebecauseI

haveto.Heholdsuphishandandpushesapieceofpaperinfront of me. “I don’t carewhatyousay.Iwanttobethefirsttogetyourautograph.”

Iclosemyeyesand takeadeepbreath. IknowAiden isjustplaying,beingsweet,buthe’s touched something deepin my heart. I think it’sbecausehebelievesinme.“Doyouhaveapen?”Aidenpatshispocketsand

whenhecomesupempty,hestartslookingaround.“I have a bunch in my

purse.” I grab my purse, digto the bottom, and pull oneout. I’m shocked to see

Avery’s purple glitter pencome out in my hand.Although,it’s theperfectpentouseformyfirstautograph.I take thecapoffandstart

towritemyname.And I think there may be

somethingmagical about thispen,becauseforthefirsttimesince I’ve been here, I don’teven hesitate. I writeKeatynMonroe.Completely. No M that’s

half a D. It’s a perfectly-

formedM.“Aren't you going to kiss

it?”Aidensayswithagrin.“I think I’d rather kiss

you.”He gives me a beaming

smile.“OnlyifIgettoendupinthemoonlightwithyou.”

It’s the final scene of oursecond,andlast,performanceofthenight.The Good Prince and the

Cheerleader, along with theBadPrinceandhisDebutantefiancée,havebeencalledintothe coronation room by theQueen.“Youwere all good sports

about this competition andthe TV ratings wereextraordinary. The monarchyis back in the black. Even

though this show was allabout involving thetownspeopleandtheworldinyour quests to find brides,only one of you can be thenext King. As I told you inthebeginning,trueloveisthekey.”She takes a crown and

placesitontheGoodPrince’shead. “You, my son, will bethe next King. Andremember, everyone, trueloveconquersall.”

Afterourfinalbows,Irushoff stage to get Maggie,makingupsomelameexcuseabout needing her backstagewith me while everyoneclearsout. I chatter endlesslyabout everything andnothing.Finally, I get a text from

Logan letting me know thatit’s time. That everyone hasleftforthecastparty.I walk Maggie out of the

dressing room, where Logan

iswaitingtotakeherhand.Irushawayquickly,soshe

hasnotimetoargue.ThenIsneaktothebackof

thedarkenedauditoriumtositnexttoAiden.He grabs my hand and

givesitalittlesqueeze.WewatchasLogan, inhis

full Prince costume, leadsMaggieoutontothestage.Time to see if life can

actuallyfollowascript.

THESETTING:EASTBROOKEAUDITORIUM. THE BACHELORPRINCE SET OF THE BEACHINTHEMOONLIGHT.

LOGAN

(TakingMaggie’shandsinhis)

IbroughtyouherebecauseIoweyouan

apology.

MAGGIE

(Wearingalookofconfusionatbeing

broughtontothestage.Thenherfaceshows

shock)Anapology?

LOGAN

Yes.I’vebeenblamingyouforourbreakupandit’snotallyourfault.IfIhadn’tbeentextingthatgirl,we’dstillbetogether.I’mreally

sorry,Mags.

Maggie smiles at him in a

way I’ve never seen hersmile. I’ve also never heard

him or anyone else calls herMags.Logan smiles back at her,

clearly happy that for themost part she’s beenfollowing our script, andcontinues.

LOGANIalsowantyoutoknowhowIfeelaboutyou.

Maggie instantly frowns

and says exactly what Ipredicted.

MAGGIEYouhateme.

Loganletsgoofoneofher

handsandgently toucheshercheek. “I may act like I do,butIdon’t.I’mstillsoinlovewithyou.”“Bullshit. You’re mean to

me.”

“I know I have been, andI’m sorry. But I’ve realizedthat it’s not where you’vebeen that matters, it’s whereyou endup that does. Iwantto end up with you, Mags.Forever.”Maggie has tears in her

eyes.Aiden and I both hold our

breaths.Weknowitcouldgoeither way at this point. Shecouldwalkoutorkisshim.Aiden squeezes my hand

tightly as Maggie wipes hertearsandsays,“Iwanttoendupwithyoutoo.”

(Theysharetruelove’sperfectkiss)

Well, it starts out as a

perfect-ending-fairy-tale kiss,but it quickly turns intosomething that would not beappropriate for a Disneymovie. Aiden pulls on my

handandwesneakoutoftheauditorium.

Sunday,November6thFulloflife.7:55am

Iwakeup,tryingtofigureoutwhere I am and why it’s so

bright in here. “Aiden! It’salmosteight!Whattimedoesyourdormadvisorwakeup?”“Heworksouteverydayat

six. But it’s okay. If anyonesees you, they’ll just thinkyoucameoverthismorning.Imean,you’reinyourrunningshoes.”Sadly,Iam.Ijustwokeup

in a boy’s bed and am stillfullyclothed.Icalmdown,mostlydueto

the fact that he’s running his

handacrossmyface.Itmightbemore relaxing than a bathandweedcombined.Hedoeshavegood,goodhands.“Aiden,thatseriouslyfeels

so good.You have no idea.”Then I open my eyes andlook into his. “My dad usedto do that tomewhen Iwaslittle. It calmed me down.Apparently,Icouldbealittlewild.”“Ilikethataboutyou.”“That I’m a little wild?

Wild,likeslutty?”“No, silly. I just like that

you’re spunky,wild, and fulloflife.It’sthatlittlesparkoffearlessness that made yousteal the soccer ball fromboys you’d never met andkick it atmy face. Itmaybethe thing I like best aboutyou.”I want to cry. There’s

something that Aiden likesbest about me and it’s not asexual thing. I want to kiss

him.SoIdo.“What do you like best

aboutme?”heasks.I think about it for a

second. I love his godlysmile, his lips, and hismuscles.Thelittlefrecklejustunder his eye. The sound ofhis voice. But there’s onething that has always madeAidenstandout.“Your strength. I likeyour

strength.”

He flexes a buff arm infrontofme.“Thisstrength?”“No, your inner strength.

You’re determined. Younever seem to get stressed.You naturally take control.Youmakemefeelsafe.”He wraps his strong arms

aroundme and pullsme intohis chest. I breathe in hisstrength and, possibly, hislove.“Last night was nice,

Aiden. I liked falling asleep

withyou.”“Itwasbetterthannice.So

next weekend, we’re stillgoingtoNewYork,right?Dosomeshopping.Hangout?”“Thatsoundsfun.”He points to the four-leaf

clover, which is peeking outfromundermyshorts.“Breakalegagaintoday.”“Thanks.”Hekissesmeonthecheek,

andsays,“IwishIwasgoingwith you tomorrow. I’d love

tomeetyourfamily.”Iwishhecouldtoo,Ithink

wistfully as I say, “Maybesomeday.”

Didn’tlisten.6pm

After our performance, astagehand brings me abeautiful bouquet of flowers.It’s a mass of pastel blooms

heldtogetherbyanaquasatinbow.“Aretheseforme?”“Yeah, some dude asked

metogivethemtoyou.”“Somedude?”“Yeah, he was talk and

darkhaired.Hesaidthere’sacard.”Tallanddark?Myhands are shakingas I

pull the little card out of theenvelope.On the card is justonething.

A replica of my chaostattoo.Idropthebouquetandlook

aroundwildly.BecauseIknow.Vincentishere.Mydirectordidn’tlistento

me. He called Vincent. Hecame to the play. He knowswhereIam.Aiden walks in and says,

“Boots, what's wrong?You’reshaking.”“Um, I don't feel very

good.”“What do you mean?”

Aiden asks as I rush over tothe trashcan and throw up init.Aiden chuckles. “Aren't

you supposed to get stagefrightbeforetheplay?”I hang onto the big trash

barrel while tuning outAiden’svoice.I've got to get out of here.

I'vegottofindCooper.“I’msorry.Ihavetogo.”I

run out of the dressing roomand leave Aiden standingthere.But I can’t go outside. I

can’t risk him waiting forme.I run back onto the now

darkened stage and wrapmyself in the folds of thevelvetcurtains.Igrabmyphoneoutofmy

dress pocket and hold ittightlyagainstmychestwhileIchangethesettingtodim.

ThenItextCooper.Me:He’shere.Hecameto

the play. The director toldhim about me even though Iasked him not too. I don’teven know where to go. Ican’trunbecauseIknowhe’sgoing to catch me this time.Cooper,I’mscared.Cooper: Where are you?

I'llberightthere.

Me:Hidingonthestage.Hedoesn'treply.I stand shaking in the

curtain forwhat feels like aneternity.Ithinkabouthowitwillgo

down.Vincent watched the play.

He's going to be waiting formeoutside.He'sgoing tohitme over the head, or jab aneedleintome,ormaybehe'lljust put his hand across my

mouthandsaydon'tscream.It’s then that Ikickmyself

forhidinginthiscurtain.Thatwas stupid of me. I shouldhave stayed with Aiden. Ishould've grabbed his armandleftwiththecrowd.But in Miami, Vincent

threatened to shoot Damian.Ifhewerecorneredandclosetohavingme,hewouldshoothiswayoutofhere.Killing Aiden and my

friends.

No,it'sbetterthisway.Justmeandhim.Maybe I should let him

kidnapme.Let him take me. Have

Garrett trackmy locket, findme,andthenarresthim.I’dgetmylifeback.I'd go seemy family.Hug

my sisters. Go back to thebeach.Smelltheocean.I think about a recent

thrillermoviewhere a girl ison the phone hiding under a

bed while men are in herhouse. Her dad tells her thatshe’sabouttogettaken.I'mabouttogettaken.I reach up to grab my

locket, but my fingers don’ttouch it. I pat my chest,frantically searching for thelocket.It'snotonme.It'slyingon

my dresser because weweren't allowed to wear anyjewelryfortheplay.IrealizeI'mscrewed.

I hear the auditorium dooropen. Footsteps walk up thestairs.Then onto the stage and

closertome.I stop breathing and don’t

moveamuscle.Icanfeelthathe’scloser.“Come out, come out,

whereveryouare.”Ohmigawd!Iwasright.He'shere.Please don't let him find

me.But then my phone

vibrates.Even though it’s tight

against my chest it makes alittlenoise.The shoes start walking

towardme.Gettingcloserandcloser.I'm going to have to fight.

Takehimbysurprise.Ilaunchmyselfatthedark

forminfrontofme,knockinghim and me quickly to the

ground. Then I start wildlypunching.I connect with both his

chestandhisface.Ileapuptorunawayashe

grabsme, rollson topofme,andpinsmeonthefloor.Fuck.Iclosemyeyestightly.“You'resupposedtopunch

thebadguy,nottheonethat'sheretorescueyou.”I quickly open my eyes.

“Cooper? Ohmigawd. I

thought.Ithought...”We both freeze at the

sound of a door opening.Coopercoversmymouthandgets both of us to our feeteffortlesslyandquietly.Wehearthesoundofshoes

heading back toward thedressingrooms.Cooperrunshishanddown

my leg, slides my heels off,and then pullsme across thestage.We sneak down the steps

then crouch behind theauditoriumseats.Whenhethinksthecoastis

clear,weruntowardthemainentrance.Cooper’s still holding my

handasweexit thebuilding.He pulls me toward a carparked in the handicappedstall.There's a big puddle of

water that I’m ready to runthrough, but Cooper scoopsmeup,carriesmeoverit,and

setsmeinthecar.He slams the door shut,

quickly runs to the driver’sside,andgetsin.I look out the window,

scanningtheareaforVincent.IrememberGarretttellingmethat he couldn’t disguise hisheight.The only person I see,

though, is Whitney. Shewatchesusdriveby,noteventrying to hide the disgust onherface.

Shit.Now, she's really going to

thinkthere’ssomethinggoingonbetweenus.Ishakemyhead.She’sthe

leastofmyworries.“We need to leave

campus,” I say, as I seeCooper driving toward hisquarters.“Ithinkwe'resaferhere.”“No. Garrett told me to

run. Go to the train station.Run.Getaway.”

“Thatwasbeforeyouhiredme.”Hepulls up in front of his

quarters and we run into histownhouse.I drop down on his couch

as he pulls his curtains shut.Hegrabsmyhand again andleads me upstairs to hisbedroom.Thenhe pullsmeonto the

bedandintoanembrace.“You're shaking,” he says

in a gentle voice. “Calm

down.You'resafe.”Then he rubs his eye,

which I realize is starting toswell.“IthinkIgaveyouablack

eye.”Hegrinsatme.“Youdida

goodjob.”“Not good enough. You

pinnedmeintwoseconds.”Cobra Cooper strikes

again,quicklypinningmeonthebed.“Nowwhatam I supposed

to do?” I say as I reach upand gently touch his quicklyswellingface.He grabs my hands and

pinsthemabovemyhead.My breathing starts to

speedupalittle.“If something happens

today. To me. To you. If hegets you. You need to knowhow to get away. I suspectthisisapositionhewillwantyouin.”I look up at his hand

strongly gripping mine. Runmy eyes down his tightlystraining muscles His rockhardbody.But it’s Cooper and he’s

notscary.“You just relaxed. That's

exactly what I was gettingready to tell you to do. Itmakesyou feel like less of athreat. Look at me like youwanttokissme.”Ilockeyeswithhim.Raise

my chin toward him, slowly

lickingmybottomlip.“That’s exactly right.

Because you’re not fightingme, I’m not gripping yourhandsastightly.Canyoufeelthat?”“Yes.”“Whatdoyounoticeabout

mybody?”I openmy eyes to look at

him.“No,”hesays.“Leaveyour

eyesclosed.Useyourbody.”I raise my hips up toward

him, which causes him topushintome.“Whatdoyoufeel?”“Yourhips.”“Yes, but if I were your

assailant,Iwouldbearoused.He’s been dreaming abouthavingyouinthispositionformonths. He’s been planningandschemingandfinally,youare his. And, even better,you’re submissive, so hethinks you want him.Whichmakeshimfeelpowerfuland

in control. But he’s notanymore. Now that he’saroused,he’llloosenhisgrip.He’llbevulnerable.Whatareyougoingtodo?”I press my lips firmly on

his.Herespondsbypushinghis

hip into me and kissing meback. I pull away from thekiss,pushingmyheaddeeplyinto the pillow as I rock myhips into him and make alittlemoan.

“That’s it,” he tells me.“Thisiswhenyoumakeyourmove.”“Icouldheadbuttyou.”“Doitsoftly.”Ipushmyheadintohis.He

reelsback,butwhenhedoes,he sits on me. His full bodyweighttrappingme.“Shit. That didn’t work.

All that would’ve done ispissedyouoff.”“Exactly.”“SowhatshouldIdo?”

He gets back in hispreviousposition.“Push your hips back up.

Feelhowmuchspacethereisbetweenus?”I remember a wrestling

movethatLoganputonJake.I use the space to flip him

overandsitontopofhim.“You're supposed to run

away now.Not sit on top ofme.”I grab his hands and push

them above his head, putting

him into the position he justhad me in. “What are yougonnadonow?”Cooper smiles big enough

to form deep dimples. “Thatwas a good move. But thisisn’t some movie, Keatyn.Thisisreallife.”“I wish we were in a

movie,” I say, suddenlyexhausted. “Then I couldcontrol the script. And nooffense,butifIcontrolledthescript, you wouldn't be here.

TherewouldbenoVincent.”There's a knock at his

door.Myeyesgetbig.Cooper effortlessly flips

me off him and then pushesme into the bathroom. “Thewindow opens to the fireescape. If Idon’tcomeback,you go out that window andrun.”I start to shake again and

gettearsinmyeyes.IgrabCooperandhughim

tightly.“I’m coming back,” he

says, grabbing a blackhandgun off his dresser andcreepingdownstairs.There'sanotherknock.I hear Cooper answer the

door.Part of me is praying it’s

Vincent. That Cooper willshoot him and this will beover.Instead, I hear Whitney

yell,“Keatyn,areyouhere?”

Cooper says in a calmvoice. “You can't come inhere.And,no,sheisn’t.”“I saw her get in the car

withyou.Whereisshe?”“I dropped her off at her

dorm.”“Iwasjustatherdorm.No

onehasseenher.”“I’mnotsurewhatshedid

afterIdroppedheroff.”“Youhaveablackeye.”“I'm sorry, Miss Clarke,

butyouneed to leave. Ifyou

are concerned about MissMonroe,I'llbegladtocallthedeanforyou.”“No,um,that'sokay.”Cooper shuts the door and

turns the deadbolt. I shut thewindow,thankfulnottohavetocrawloutofit.Then I duck when I see

Whitney peering back at thehouse.“She’s a pain in the ass.

I’m going to call Garrett tohave some reinforcements

sent in. I want a couplepeople just outside theschool’s gates. Tell mewhathappened.Howdoyouknowthat he’s here? Did you seehimintheaudience?”“No.Astagehandgaveme

a ridiculously huge bouquetofflowers.Thecardwasonlysigned with the chaos tattoothat Vincent got. And I wasfreaking out because I don’thave my locket on. I had totakeitofffortheplay.”

While he’s on the phonewith Garrett, I check myphone. I have a bunch ofmissedcallsfromB.Idecidetocallhimback.“Keats!Wow!”“Wowwhat?”“You were amazing and I

haven’tevenseenitallyet. Iwantedtocome,butIfiguredthatwouldbe toodangerous.So I called a localvideographerandpaidhimtorecord the play today. I’m

watching it now. Keats, youdidsogood. I’msoproudofyou. Did you get theflowers?”Reliefcrashesovermelike

anoceanwave.I dropmy phone and start

crying.Cooper walks back in the

room, picks up my phone,and says, “She’ll call youback.”“Whathappened?”“The flowers were from

my ex, Brooklyn. Theyweren’t from Vincent. I’msorry. Ipanickedwhen I sawthe chaos tattoo. He and Ibothhavethem.Ihatethis!”Iscream. “I hate that I can’teven get surprise flowersfrom a boy without freakingout!”“Calm down. You did the

right thing. Sit down for aminute. Ineed tocallGarrettback.”I throw myself across his

bed.Coopershakesme.“Hey.”I wake up with a start. “I

thinkIfellasleep.”“It’s called an adrenaline

crash.”“Yeah,Iguess.IsupposeI

bettergetbacktomydorm.”He takes me downstairs

andhandsmethebigbouquetofflowersthatBsent.“Iwentandgotthemforyou.”Ilookatthemandsmile.“I

should’ve known they werefrom him. The aqua blueribbon is almost the samecolorashiseyes.”“Maybe you should call

himback.”“Yeah.DoyoucareifIcall

him from here? I don’t wantmy friends to overhearanythingtheyshouldn’t.”“Go ahead. I’ve got a

facultymeetingtoattend.Justlock the door when youleave.”

“Thanks, Cooper. DidGarrettgetmad?”“He wasn’t mad. But I

didn’t tell himwhatwehaveplannedfortomorrow.”IcallB.“What happened? Who

wasthatguy?”“I’m sorry. Thanks for the

flowers. They’re beautiful. Ijust freaked out because Ithought they were fromVincent. I thought he foundme.”

“Whowasthatguy?”“It was Cooper, my

bodyguard.”“Youhaveabodyguard?”“Idonow,yes.”“How did you not know

the flowerswere fromme? Isigneditwithchaos.Evendidthe bow the color of theocean.”“ItoldyouthatVincentgot

atattoojustlikeyoursandherubbed it against me inMiami.”

“Ididn’teventhinkofthat.I’msosorryIscaredyou.”“It’sokay.”“I just finished watching

the play.Youwere amazing,Keats. Really. I’m going tofigureoutawaytogetridofVincent. Then you can comehome and act. We’ll do aschedule. I’ll still travel butwe’ll spend as much timetogether as possible. Tommyand your mom always maketheir schedules work. We’ll

doittoo.”“Brooklyn, would you

really be okay with meacting? With all that goeswith it? The red carpetevents. The tabloids. Themagazinecovers.Kissingmyco-stars.”“I’vebeengoingtoclubs.”“What?”“I know. But that’s what

alltheguysliketodoforfunwhilewe’re on tour. I didn’treally getwhy you like it so

much. But it’s the energy.The crowd. That’s what youlove more than the dancing,isn’tit?”“Yeah,probably.”“I loveyou,Keats. Iknow

Iwasajerkaboutyourparty.About dancing. About yourdress. It wasn’t slutty. Youlookedamazing.Likealways.Iwaspissedatmyself.Iknewthe second I left guys wouldbe lining up for you. I justdidn’tknowwhattodo.”

“What if you got a do-over? What would you dodifferently?”“I’d ask you to be my

girlfriend. We’d figure outtogether how to make ourrelationship work. I’d be theonly boy kissing you on thedancefloor.AndifIevergetthe chance to walk with youon a red carpet, I’d be there.I’devenwearasuit.”“Really?” I say, holding

my hand to my heart as my

eyesfillupwithtears.“Really.”

Monday,November7thSandycastles.

4amCooper and I leave in ourseparate cars from school,

meetupattheairport,anddoour cross-country tour to gettoVancouverwithoutleavingatrail.Whenwe get to the house

my family is leasing, ashocked James meets us outfront surrounded by foursecurityguards.“What are you doing

here?” he asks, eyeing mesuspiciously.“What do you think I’m

doing here, James? It’s

Gracie’sbirthday.”“Who’stheguy?”“This is Cooper Steele.

Garrett hired him to be mybodyguard. Why are youactingsoweird?”“Since Vincent followed

your mom to New York,we’ve been worried that youmight not be enough forhim.”“Whatdoyoumean?”“We think you’re both in

danger. That’s why you

haven’t seen any pictures ofyour mom and Tommytogether. She refuses to goout in public with him. Shewon’t even ride in the samecarwithhim.”“Why?”“She had a dream that

Vincentshotthemboth.She’safraid it was a premonition,andshedoesn’twantthegirlsto grow up without at leastoneparent.”“That’shorrible!”

“Garrett is also worriedthat he could use one of youas bait. In order to get youboth.”“Has he been following

Mom?”“She always has someone

following her. It’s rarelyVincent, but we know he’shired someone. And hewatches the house. Youshouldn’tbehere.”“Whydon’tyoumakehim

goaway?”

“Because he sucks at hisjobandiseasytospot.Ifhe’sthere, we know Vincent isprobablynot.”“Wait. Is that why you

brought the hulks with theguns out here? Why youhaven’t let me in the house?You think I’d bring Vincenthere? Where my sisters are?Areyounuts,James?”“I’m sorry, Keatyn. I

assume no matter what thatyou’d want me to keep your

sisterssafe.Isthatcorrect?”I nod as tears flood my

eyes.I was so excited to come

here. I thought everyonewouldbehappytoseeme.I turn toward the car. “I

have a present for Gracie.Willyoupleasegiveittoherand letherknowitwasfromme?”Iopenthecardoorandask

Coopertounloadherpresent.“We’re clear.” I hear from

awalkie-talkie.Cooper has been standing

stick still but ready to strike.He hasn’t said a word untilnow.“Thatmeansyouget togo to your sister’s birthdayparty.”“I’m sorry,” James says to

me.“I’mjustdoingmyjob.”Inodaswe’re led through

the frontdoorof a sprawlingcontemporary log cabin stylehome.Mom rushes down the

stairs.“Keatyn!Whyareyouhere?”“I came for Gracie’s

birthday.Icouldn’tmissit.”Shelooksreallynervousto

seeme,butshequicklyhidesit with a smile. “Did Brookknowyouwerecoming?”“Uh,no.Why?” I reply as

Tommy and Mom give mehugs and I introduce them toCooper. We briefly explainhow Vincent is in Miamidoing his auditions, so we

knew that my coming herewould be okay. Cooper alsofills James in on our nobreadcrumbstriphere.We follow Mom out to a

lushbackyard.And there, sitting in the

middleof ahuge sandbox, isBrooklyn, building sandcastleswiththegirls.“B ishere? I just talked to

him yesterday and he didn’ttellme hewas coming.”Myeyes fill up with tears again

as my heart feels warm andfull.I grab my mom’s hand.

“Whendidhegethere?”“Late last night. He had a

sandbox and a truckload ofsanddeliveredthismorning.”“I told him she wanted to

buildsandycastleswithhim.”Iyellout,“Gracie!”Gracie turns toward the

sound of her name, seesme,jumps up, does somethingsimilar to the Snoopy happy

dance, and then runs straightto me. I bend down as shecatapults herself into myarms.“Happybirthday,Gracie!”“Happy birthday to Kiki,”

shesaysback.Then all the girls come

runningoverandgang tackleme into the grass. Coveringmewithhugsandkisses.Gracie screams, “No! My

Kiki!”Theothergirlsbackoffas

ahandreachesouttohelpmeup.A deeply tanned hand

attached to a thicker thanusualarm.Igrasphishandashepulls

metomyfeetandintoahug.“I can't believe you're

here.”He gives me a lopsided

grin.“Ibroughtsand.”I look into his warm blue

eyes. Eyes that engulf mewithmore emotions than the

ocean could hold. Eyes thatmakeme feel like I’m ridingawave.Theeyesofhome.Gracie tugs on my hand

causing me to break eyecontactwithhim.“Kiki! Come make sandy

castles!”shescreams.I follow her to the sand

box, sit in thesand,andstartbuildingacastle.Gracie plops down in B's

lapandstaresatme.

“Gracieblowoutcandles,”shetellsme.“Youalreadyhadcake?”“No,” Avery says. “We

hadwaffles forbreakfastandshegotcandlesinhers.”Ivery says, “I didn't have

waffles. I don't like waffles.Icky.”Emery shakes her head. “I

love waffles. They are myvery favorite!” Then shelowers her voice.“Sometimes, Nanny lets us

havewafflesfordinner.”“Waffles for dinner!” they

allscream.“Shhh,”Averysays.“It'sa

secret.”“Why is it a secret?” B

asks.“Cuz Mommy and Daddy

don'tknowthatNannyletsushave breakfast for dinner.”The girls all giggle quietly,like it’s thebest secret in theworld.The girls chatter away,

talking about all sorts ofrandomfacts.I lookup to findB staring

atme.He reaches out and places

hishandonmycheek. I leaninto it and close my eyes.Feeling the warmth. Soakinginhisfamiliartouch.Causingaflurryofmemories.Sunrises on the beach.

Floating on our boards.Waitingfortheperfectwave.Kissing in the moonlight.

Afternoons filled withnothing but his naked body,cool white sheets, and oceanbreezes.Thethrillofcatchinga big wave and the proudlookonhisfacewhenIdid.I turn my face into his

hand,putmylipsonthespotI know so well, and kiss histattoo.Gracie jumps off his lap,

knocking his hand off myface.“Gracie wanna open

presents!”“Where's the dog?” I ask.

“DoIgettomeetKiki?”“I’ll get Kiki out of her

kennel,”Emerysays.“No, it’s my turn!” Ivery

argues.Theybothrushoffintothe

house.A few minutes later, a

yellowblurbarrelsoutof thehouse with the girls chasingafterit.The dog rushes toward us,

bounds into the sand, knocksdownthecastles,givesAveryaslobberywetkiss,jumpsonGracie's lap, and then licksherentirenose.“Bad Kiki!” Gracie yells,

but then she wraps her armsaround the puppy's neck andpracticallystranglesit.Thedogdeftlyducksoutof

herhold.“I wuvmy badKiki,” she

says as the dog bounds ontomylap.

Shesniffsmefirstandthenlicksmyhands.“Come inside for lunch,

girls,”Momyells.I get up and try to brush

someofthesandoffmyskirt.B wraps his arm around mywaist and walks with me tothedoor.His gesture remindsme of

asong.Thekindofsongthatyouknowyou’llneverforgetthelyricsto.This will always feel

familiar.Hestopsme,turningmeto

facehim.“I can't believe you're

here,”hesays.“Ican'tbelieveyou'rehere.

Youhaveno ideahowmuchthismeanstome.”He pulls me into a tight

hugandIgrasphimastightlyasIwishIcouldgraspmyoldlife.He looks into my eyes. I

noticed there was something

different about him in thesandboxbut Icouldn’t figureit out. Now I know it’s hiseyes. They aren't bloodshot.They aren't dazed. They areclear and vibrant andbeautiful.“I’m sorry, for everything,

Keats.”“I’msorrytoo.”“Kiki, come now!” Gracie

yells.We go inside and have

Gracie's favorite foods forlunch. After singing “HappyBirthday,” Gracie blows outthe candles four differenttimes only to make Tommylightthemagain.By the time the candle

blowingoutisdone,I’msurethe cake is coveredwith spitandgerms.ButIdon'tcare.ItmaybethebestcakeI'veeverhadinmylife.My mind flicks to Aiden

bringingmecake.Onesingle

amazingkiss.IlookatBandfeelguilty.Whilewe’recleaningup, I

confessmyguilttoMom.“Myguilt topsyourguilt,”

shesaysseriously.“How?”“If Iweren't anactress—if

I were just a normalmom—none of this would behappening. It's my fault. Allofit.”Justasshestartstocry,the

puppy jumps up on the

kitchenbench, leapsonto thetable,anddivesheadfirstintothecake.Tommy is quickest to

respond. He grabs the dog,hoistingheroff the tableandshooingheroutside.Thegirlstearbackintothe

roomwithGracieinthelead,all chanting, “Presents!Presents!”Tommy leans back in his

chair, grins, and pullsGracieontohislap.

“Did you know that whenit’s your birthday you'resupposedtogetspankedonceforeveryyear?”Brooklyn whispers in my

ear. “I’ll be twenty soon.Wannaspankmenow?”The triplets all screech,

“No,Daddy.Nospankings!”“Alright. Maybe we'll

change that. Let’s go withkisses!” He gives Graciethree purposefully sloppykissesonthecheck.

“My turn! My turn!” thetripletssay.TheystandinlineandeachkissGracie.Mom follows suit. Then I

pull her up on my lap andtickle her sides while I kissher,causinghertoshrillwithlaughter.“Guess it’s my turn,” B

says.Hegivesherthreesweetkisses on the cheek, and Iswear she swoons. She putsher hand on her cheek andholdsittherelikeshe'strying

tosavethekisses.We go into the family

roomwherethereisastackofpresents on the floor. Graciejumps up and down withexcitement.Isitonthefloor.Brooklyn

sits directly behind me,puttinghiskneesoneachsideofmeandwrappinghisarmsaround me. He presses hislipsintothesideofmyface.I lean back into his chest

andclosemyeyes.

“Howmanytimeshavewesat this way on the beach?Can't you almost feel theoceanbreezeonyourface?”“Yes.”Hecontinuestowhisperin

my ear as we watch Gracieripopenherpresents.“Keats,I'm sorry for any hurt Icaused you. I was an idiot.And high. After the cabanagirl, I quit smoking and nowthere'saclaritytomylifethatIneverhadbefore.I'meating

healthier. Working out. Andit'sallforyou.”Iopenmyeyes.“Youshouldbedoingitfor

you, B. My mom says youhave to love yourself beforeyoucanlovesomeoneelse.”“That'sprettydeep.”“I'vechangedtoo.”“Icanseethat.Youlookso

soft and even prettier than Iremember.” He slides hishand down my hip, hisfingers stopping at the exact

spotofmytattoo.“Iknowexactlywhereitis.

I know every,” he taps myskin, “teeny, tiny place onyou.Andwhenyou're ready,I can't wait to feel everysingleinchofitagain.”I feel high. My brain is

fried. I don't even botherthinking at this point. I don'tknowwhenI'llseehimagainandIwanttocherishit.Revelinit.Ifeelmyphonebuzzinmy

pocket. Ipull itoutandpeekatit.Peyton: Both you and

Hottie Cooper are absenttoday.Ifyouarehavingahotaffair with him, I will becompletely mad and totallyjealous.Me: Don’t Iwish.Had to

takecareofsomestuffformyfamily in NY. Where is thehottie?

Peyton: Rumor has it, he

isill.Me:Sickofgirlsthrowing

themselvesathim,maybe?Peyton: Not funny. He

loves it. I can tell. And I’mclose. Closer than Whitney,forsure.Gracie rips the wrapping

off another present. This one

is a baby doll, which shesnuggles, then tosses aside.She carefully studies theremainingpackages.Shedigsto thebottomof thepile toasmall package. She rips itopen and jumps up anddown.“Chocolate chips!

Chocolate chips!!” shescreams,holdingupabagofchips.She tears through a few

morepackages.

When she's done, I askCooper,“Wouldyoubringinmypresent?”Cooper nods, goes out to

thecar,andthendragsin thehugewrappedtrunk.Gracie'seyesgethuge.She

runs to it and hugs it thenclimbson topof it like it’s ajunglegym.“Didyouwannaunwrapit?

Maybe, since it’s big, thegirlscanhelpyou?”“No.Mine!”sheyells.

“Gracie,” Mom sayscalmly, “even though it’syour birthday, you have toshareyourtoys.”She folds her little arms

tightly across her chest andjutsherlipoutintoapout.Brooklynlaughsinmyear.

“Shedoesthatjustlikeyou.”“Idon'tdothat.”He laughs again, as do

Mom andTommy,who bothgo,“Yesyoudo,”atthesame

time.Which immediately causes

metofoldmyarmsandstickout my bottom lip before Icanstopmyself.“Haha.See?”Tommysays,

pointingatmeandlaughing.I uncross my arms and

straightenmyface.Gracie walks in front of

Mom and says politely,“Sissies can help me.” Butthen under her breath, I hearhersay,“Mine.”

They shred the wrappingand Gracie opens the trunkfilled with dress up clothes.The girls have an abundanceof princess costumes andballerina tutus, so this hasdifferent kinds of costumes.Adragon.Ahorse.Aninja.Abutterfly. Basically, I boughtone of every Halloweencostume available and ahandmade trunk to put themin.The girls start pulling out

costumes. She watches,looking at the costumes inamazement. Then she slowlywalks over to me. “For myplays,”shestates.I nod at her. She throws

herself into my arms andstrangles me with a hug.Tearsstreamdownmyface.Shestopsthehug,looksat

me,andsays,“Nocry,Kiki.”Then she bounds away,grabbing a white doctor’sjacketandputtingiton.

She walks over to Cooperand goes, “Do you have atummyache?”Cooper looks puzzled and

goes,“Uh,no.”She leans in andwhispers,

“Yousayyes.”Cooper holds his stomach.

“Yes,my tummyhurts reallybad.”Shetapsonhis tight torso.

Pushesonhischin.Thenshegives Mom and Tommy asneaky glance, grabs the

chocolate chips, and handsthem to Cooper. “You needchocolate.Open.”“She's brilliant. You know

that,right?”Brooklynsays.I laugh. “She's tricky is

whatsheis.”Cooper does as he's told.

Gracie takes the packageawayfromhimanddolesouttwochips.“Eat,”shesays.Cooper looks at the chips

liketheymightbepoisoned.I

don’t think chocolate chipsarepartoftheSteeleBuildingMenuPlan.“Eat!” Gracie insists, so

Cooper pops them in hismouth.Gracie stares at him for a

second then asks, “Allbetter?”Cooper pats his stomach.

“Yes,allbetter.”“Gracie tummy hurt too,”

she says, reaching into thechipbag.

“Gracie,” Tommy says.“Only two. You already hadcake.”Shesmiles,takesthree,and

shoves them in her mouth.Then she wanders over toBrooklyn and me. “Two forBwooklyn. Two for Kiki.Two for Gracie. Two forDaddy.”ShegivesTommyaradiantsmile.“Give Mommy the chips,

Gracie.”“No!” she replies,

clutchingthemtoherchest.“Goputtheminthepantry

ifyouwant toseeyourotherpresent,” Mom tells her. Asshe runs off, Mom turns toBrooklyn and me and says,“Tommyrenamed thismonthNOvember. That’s about allthatcomesoutofhermouth.”Gracie does as she's told

and gets led back to a roomwith a large wooden stage.Behindthestage,paintedonabig canvas, is a rainbow, a

blue sky, mountains, and acastleinthedistance.Gracie’seyesgethugethen

she starts jumping up anddownandclapping.“Myveryownstage!”The triplets are already

ahead of the game. They aredressed up as a horse, adragon,andabutterfly.Gracie runs to another

room and brings back twocrowns, placing them onB’sandmyheads.

“You, prince. You,princess.”She pulls our hands and

makes us stand up on thestage.I have to stand in the

cornerwhileBand thehorsefight the dragon with abejeweledsword.“Die, dragon!” Gracie

yells.The dragon runs into the

sword and then drops to theground.

“Prince, find princess!”Avery,who is dressed as thehorse,says.ShedragsBovertome,thenpullsusbothbackto center stage. “Lie downand be asleep,” shewhisperstome.Iliedownonthestageand

closemyeyes.“Kiss!”Gracieyells.I open my eyes wide and

lookatB.“Kiss!”allthegirlssay.He leans down and gives

measweetkissonthecheek.“Ahh. No,” Ivery says,

clearlydisappointedbythis.“Don't wake up,” Avery,

the horse, says to me. “Thatwasnottruelove’skiss.”“Wait!”Gracieshouts.She

waves a magic wand atBrooklyn, looking like shewill curse him if he doesn’tcomply. “Bibbidy, bobbidy,boo.Now,kiss!”Iquicklyshutmyeyesand

pucker my lips, so B will

knowit’sokaytokissme.I feel his lips slowly press

intomine andwonder if it istrue love’skiss.Will itwakemeup?AndwhenIwakeup,willthisallbeover?Willmylife go back to the way itwas?MeandBonthebeach.When my only worry in theworld was what my friendswouldthinkofhim.Iopenmyeyesslowly,like

I've woken up from a reallylongdream,rubmyeyeslike

SleepingBeautydoes,andsitup.“Myprince,”IsaytoB.The girls clap and Emery

says, “Now you have todance.Weallhavetodance!”Bpullsme tomy feet and

intohisarms.Averyyells,“Wait.Cut!”“No, Avery! Gracie say

cut!”“Butweforgotthemusic,”

Averysaysback.“Music!”Graciescreeches.

“Turnmusicon.”BandIstareateachother,

ignoringmostofwhat'sgoingonaroundus.When the music starts, he

moves with me. Like he didthat night at the Undertow.ThenightwhenIwishedhe’dkiss me. Now, I don't knowwhat to wish for. B haschanged. I've changed.We'renot those two naive kidsanymore. Vincent haschanged us. I look at my

sisters dancing with eachother.The triplets aregettingtaller and are under constantsurveillance. Mom andTommy were nervous uponseeing me. My godfather,James, thought I was somesortoftrap.And I realize Vincent has

changedusall.I close my eyes and do

something I haven't done forawhile.Imakeawish.

“Iwishwecouldhaveouroldlivesback,”Isayquietly.“I’ve been studying

stalkingcases,”Bwhispersinmyear.“Iwanttotalktoyouaboutit.”“Not today, B. Don't ruin

todaywithanyotherthoughtsofhim.”I stop dancing and clap.

“That was an amazing play,girls. Thank you for lettingmebeinit!”“Let’s go outside!” Emery

says. “Iwannabounce in thebouncyhouse.”The triplets grab

Brooklyn’sarmandpullhimoutside. I stop at the door tograbGracie’shand,butwhenI look back through thedoorway, I see she’s still onthe stage. She walks to thewallandrunsherhandacrossthe rainbow. Then she picksup a pretend microphone,walks to the center of thestage, and starts talking. At

first,Idon'trealizewhatshe'sdoing,butquicklyunderstandthat she's acting out a scenefrom The Little Mermaid.Playing Flounder and ArielandPrinceEric.Iwatchherperformall by

herself. In front of no one.She even stops, gettingirritated with herself whenshe messes up, and startsover.Shewantsitperfect.Iletherfinishascenethen

wanderbackinandsitonthe

edgeofthestage.“Ipracticingmylines,”she

says.“Isaw.You'reverygood.”Shenodsseriously.“Iwant

tobeonTV.Icandancetoo.Wannasee?”“I’dlovetosee.”“I'm the bestest in my

class.Wait.Ineedmyspecialtutu,” she says and goestearingoff.She comes back wearing

my pink tie dyed tutu. The

oneIwaswearingwhenImetTommy.She marches up on stage,

bows, and does a littlechoreographeddance.Twirls.Spins. Smiles at a crowdthat'snotthere.Iclap.“Shh,” Gracie admonishes

me.“NotuntilIyell,Cut.”I run to the stage, swoop

herintomyarms,andhughertightly.“Kiki,youcrytoomuch.Is

Kikisad?”“KikiissadbecauseImiss

you.”“ImissKikitoo.”Shelays

her head on my shoulder. Iautomatically sway and pather back when she’s in myarms.LikeIusedtowhenshewas little. I take inhersweetscent. A mix of bubblegum,chocolate,andbabyshampoo.When she doesn’t move, Irealizeshe'sfallenasleep.I hug her tighter and stop

fighting the tears that Ihaven't wanted anyone tosee.Cooper walks in, sees me

holding a sleeping Gracie,andsmilesasadsmileatme.I carry Gracie into herbedroom and lay her on herbed.Herhairisallsweaty,soI gently push it off her face.She opens her little eyes andsmilesatme.Astreakofwetyellowdog

bounds on the bed, licking

our faces and dripping wateronus.“Bad Kiki!” Gracie says,

now fully awake anddrenched.The dog stops bouncing,

pausing only to shake itsbody and spray water allover.GracieandIbothgigglewhenTommychasesthedog.Bpicksmeupandcarriesmeoutoftheroom.I'm laughing but also

wondering when he got so

strong.Before, I used to feellike I'd crush him when hegave me a piggyback ride.Nowhe'ssolid.Stronger.Wegooutsidetobouncein

the bouncy house. After awhile,Gracieclimbs intomylap and promptly falls asleepagain.Eventually, Cooper says,

“Keatyn, we need to getgoing.”I give the girls hugs and

tell them I’ll be back soon.Because I don't care whatanyonesays.I'mcomingbacksoon.This time, it’snot ahappy

goodbye. This time when Ileavetherearetears.“Don'tgo,Kiki.Don'tgo,”

thetripletsplead.I’m glad that Gracie is

asleep. I don’t want to ruinthe end of her birthday. Ireach in my pocket and pullout four heart lockets,

handing one to each girl andone to Mom. “These are foryougirls.Ihaveonejustlikeit. Do you remember thatJames got it for me for mybirthday?”Thegirlsnod.“Be really careful, but if

you open the heart, there’s apictureinside.“Kiki!” Avery declares,

being the first one to get herlocketopen.I takeher locketandclaspitaroundherneck.

“I have to go back onmyadventure,butIgotyoutheseso you would know thatyou're always in my heart. Iloveyou.”Theycry.Icry.Igivethem

hugs.Finally, Nanny takes them

totheirroom.Everyone else walks into

theentryway.Mom gives me a hug. “It

was so good to see you,honey.”

Brooklyn says, “I'll walkyoutothecar.”He takes my hand and

leadsmetothecar.It'sarareoccasion that I haven'tplannedoutascript indetail.That I don't know exactlywhatI’mgoingtosay.I smile at him. Run my

hand through his shaggyblondhair."God,I'vemissedyou,"he

says and presses his lipsagainst mine. It's a hot kiss,

full of a passion I've neverfeltfromhimbefore.Hepullsback just as quickly. "I'msorry.IsaidIwouldn't."“It's okay, B. Thank you

fortoday.Forbeinghere.Forgivingmealittlehappypieceofmylifeback.Youhavenoideahowmuchthatmeanstome.""Iloveyou,Keats.Ialways

will.""I'm pretty sure I'll always

loveyoutoo."

Pullthetriggertoshoot.

7pmI’m walking up the stairwayto board our plane when ablack town car pulls up to asleek jet thathas just landed.A man gets off and startsdown the stairs. “Oh my

God.”The man turns in my

direction,lockseyeswithme,andsmiles.“Cooper! It’s him. He’s

just getting off that plane.They were right about me. Iledhimhere.Ishouldn’thavecome!”Cooper drags me into the

planeandyellsatthecopilot,“Weneedtotakeoff.Now!”I somehow get out of

Cooper’sgripandbacktothe

door. I seeVincent is on hisphone.I wave at him to get his

attention. Then I raise mymiddlefingertomylips,kissit, and hold it out to him.Then Imouth,Comeandgetme. I don’t even care if itpisseshimoff.I want him pissed. I want

himtofollowme.I want him far away from

myfamily.Vincent bounds down the

stairs and starts runningtowardme justas thedoor isshut and the stairs are rolledaway.I grab my phone, hit 911,

andcallGarrett.“Ishethere?”“He’s at the airport in

Vancouver.”“Yourlocketsaysyou’reat

school.”“I took it off. Doesn’t

matter. He’s coming towardour plane. He left Miami.

Must’ve heard I was here.Call the airport. Say it’s anational emergency orsomething.Justgetusofftheground.”“What’s your tail

number?”Iruntothecockpitandask

the pilot as politely as I can,“Canyoupleasegivehimourtailnumber?”Ihandhimmyphone. Then I run and lookout the window. Vincent isstanding outside the plane,

gesturing bigwith his hands,and screaming into hisphone.I think he’s trying to get

themtorollthestairsback.“Cooper?”Cooper nods at me and

grabs a black bag that hedidn’t have on theway here.Heunzipsitquickly,pullsoutamatteblackgun,andhandsit to me. “The safety is on.Click here to unlock it. Pullthetriggertoshoot.Thereare

fifteen bullets in themagazine. If somethinghappens to me, shoot untilyou take him down. Do notstopshooting.”Hepullstwomoregunsout

of the bag. A smaller one,whichheshovesintothebackof his pants and a larger onethat he keeps in his hand.“God dammit. I knew Ishouldhave takenyou to thegunrange.”The copilot walks back

withmy phone. “I gave it tohimbut all flights have beentemporarily grounded.” Thenhe notices the guns in ourhands and says, “What’sgoingon?”“She's a federal witness,”

Cooper quickly lies. Hepushes the copilot's headdownevenwith thewindow.“That guy out there is themob's contract killer. Wehavetotakeoffnow.Becausewhen he comes to kill her,

he'llkillyoutoo.Won’tthinktwice. Get us ungrounded.Now.”Cooperevenpullsouta badge of some kind andflashes it at the copilot.“Move,”hesays.The copilot gets on the

headset and speaks to thetower. “We’re requesting anemergencytakeoff.”“Emergency takeoff? You

mean landing?” the towerreplies.“No.Takeoff.”

“Can’trightnow.”Cooper grabs the headset.

“ThisisCooperSteele,NSA.There is a possible terroristsuspect standing outside ourplane.Hejustarrivedfrom...” “Miami,” I whisper, as

Coopersays,“Miami.”“A flight did just arrive

from Miami,” the towerreplies,soundingconfused.“Apprehend him and clear

us for takeoff,” Cooper

commands.“I can apprehend him but

I'mafraidIcan'tclearyoufortakeoff. Only the . . .what?Yes, sir. You are cleared fortakeoff.”Quickly, we are moving

downtherunway.As our wheels leave the

ground, Cooper’s phonerings.“Fuck,” he says before he

answers. “Yes. I know, sir.Right,but . . .”Sigh.“It'son

me.Yes,Iunderstand.”Hedisconnectsthecalland

shuts off his phone as weclimbintotheair.Then he stands up, takes

the gun out ofmy hand, andputs it back in the bag alongwithhis.“What the hell were you

thinking?Hedidn'tknowyouwere in here until you calledattentiontoyourself.”“He was going to the

house.” I picture Gracie

sleeping inmyarmsand feelsick.“Icouldn'tlethim.”“He put something in one

of your sister’s backpacks,didn’the?”“Yes.”Herunshishandacrosshis

buzzed hair. “Garrett justfiredme.”“Bullshit,”Isay.“Whatdoyoumean?”“Imean,bullshit.Although

I appreciate everything he'sdoneforme,andalthoughhe

maythinkheis,Garrettisnotthebossofme.Heworksforme.”“Itseemspersonaltohim.”“It's always been personal

to you. And it just got morepersonalbecauseyoumetmysisters.”Henods.“You were right, Cooper.

About me being the weakestlink in my security. I needyou to teach me all themartial arts stuff you know.

Andhowtoshoot.You'renotleaving school.” I roll myeyes and give him a grin.“The girls would all begrievingfordays.”Afterwe levelout, the co-

pilot comes back. “We werejust informed that our flightplan was changed. We’ll belanding at Santa Monicaairportinafewhours.”“Santa Monica?” I ask

after the pilot goes back intothecockpit.

Cooper shakes his head.“That’s where Garrett ismeeting us. He’ll be gettingyoubacktoschool.”I get up and pour us each

twofingersofscotch.I set the glass in front of

him.“Drink.”“Ican'tdrinkonthejob.”“Technically, you just got

fired.Drink.”When we land, Garrett

pulls Cooper aside. They’re

having a very animatedconversation. I walk in between them.

“That’s enough, Garrett.There’s no reason to yell athimifyou’vefiredhim.”“The hell there isn’t. I

can’t believe the two of youpulledastuntlikethis.”“Garrett, calm down.

Cooper planned everythingout.He’s really smartandhedid a really good job. Youneedtohirehimback.”

“What?No.”“Um, yes, Garrett.

Otherwiseyou'refired.”Garrett's head practically

does a 360-degree spin.Almostlikeahorrormovie.“Are you fucking kidding

me?” Garrett says, nowcompletelypissedoff.“Garrett, you know I

appreciate everything you'vedoneforme,butIhavetoputmy foot down on this, justlikeIdidwithCooper.Ineed

bothofyouworkingtogetherto help keep me safe. Myrehearsals just ended andCooper is going to startteachingmemartialarts.”“And how to shoot,”

Coopersayswithagrin.“Because even though

school is pretty secure, I’mtheweaklink.”“Theweaklink?”“Tellhim,Cooper.”He does and then, finally,

theyshakehands.

Garrett gives me a hug,thendanglesasetofcarkeysinfrontofusandsays,“Drivefrom here to Vegas. Spendthe night. Catch a charterthere.”Cooper and I get into the

car and drive away from theairport.“I don’t want to go to

Vegastonight.”“Wedon’thaveachoice.”“Sure,wedo.It’spast ten,

we’reexhausted,andit’sover

a four-hour drive. It’s notsafe.”“Wheredoyouwant togo

then?”“We’ll stay here in Santa

Monica.”“Vincent can check our

flightplans.”“Ifhedoesthat,he’dgoto

Malibu. Shit. I wonder if heknows Bwas in Vancouver?Hangon.Ineedtocallhim.”I push B’s number. “Hey,

areyoustillinVancouver?”

“Yeah, spending the nightat your parents’ and thenflying to my nexttournament.”“Where’sthat?”“Portugal.ThenHawaiifor

theThanksgiving break.Youdoing anything? You couldcome.”“I don’t think that would

beverysmart,B.”“Yeah, I know. Wishful

thinking.”“Thanksagainforspending

Gracie’sbirthdaywithher.”“Noproblem.Bye,Keats.”I hang up. “He’s not

coming home. And I knowjustwheretostay.Letmecalland see if they have anyrooms.”Cooper and I get to the

iconic Shutters on the Beachin Santa Monica and checkinto the Presidential suite. ItwasalltheyhadavailableandI would pay just about

anythingtostayonthebeachtonight.Afterwe get checked in, I

immediately swing open thebalconydoorsandtakeinthefreshoceanbreeze.I get a crazy idea that

Cooper will probably neveragreeto.ButIcheckanyway.I pop on Facebook and pullupMark’sprofile.Healwaysposts the night before wherethey are surfing in themorning.

Thereacrossmyphonearethewords:Manhattan Beachiswhereit’sat.“Youbettergetsomesleep

tonight,” I tell Cooper.“We’re getting up at sunriseandgoingsurfing.”Cooper stops drinking the

beerhe justpulledoutof therefrigerator.“No,wearenot.”“Yeah, we are. We’re

going to Manhattan Beach.It’s nowhere near Malibu.Some of B’s old surfer

friendsaregoingtobethere.”“Ithinkit’sabadidea.”Ismileathim.“So’sgoing

to sit out on the beach rightnow,butI’mstillgoingtodoit.”“I’mcomingwithyouand

you’regoingtopretendtobewith me. Understand? Likewe’reacouple.”Igrabhishand.“Comeon

then, sexy. We’re going tomakeoutinthemoonlight.”I drag him down to the

beach and plop down in thesand.He wraps the blanket he

took from the suite aroundus.Iclosemyeyesandtakeit

allin.Thesmells,thesounds.Allofwhichfeellikehome.Except.Notquite.“Tell me about your

sister,”IsaytoCooper.He shakes his head. “It’s

notaprettystory.”

“I’msureit’snot.Please.Ineedtoknow.”“She broke up with her

boyfriend because he wascheating on her and that’swhen things changed. Hestarted showing up at herapartment unannounced.Standing outside her carwaiting for her after work.Sending her flowers andleaving her notes.Of course,she told him they weren’tgetting back together, and

that he needed to leave heralone. He did for a fewmonths until she starteddatingagain.Then,onenighthewaswaiting for herwhenshegothome.Hetoldhershewas his and that if she evereven looked at another man,he would kill her. Before hethreatened her, sheconsidered him more of anannoyance,butafter that,shewas scared.They tried togeta restraining order at that

point, but didn’t have anyproof. So, she started notingall the times he was around.Saved his cards and letters.Finally got a restrainingorder.Twodaysafterhewasnotifiedoftheorder,hewentto her apartment, raped her,andkilledher.”My hand flies up to my

mouth.“Ohmygod.”“The neighbors heard the

shot and called the police.There was a standoff and he

shothimself.”“That’sawful.”“My parents still blame

themselves.They tried to gethertostaywiththem,butshewouldn’tlisten.”“Shewastryingtoliveher

life,” I say, sort ofunderstanding.

Tuesday,November8thThesingle

biggestreason.5am

CooperandIgetupearlyanddrivetoManhattanBeach.LastnightIaskedthehotel

togetuswetsuits, swimsuits,towels, and changes ofclothes. We didn’t packanything since we weren’tplanning on spending thenight.“Have you ever surfed

before?”“On a summer vacation to

Hawaii.”I carefully look at the

surfers who are assembled,double checking thatVincent’snotoneofthem.Oreventoseeifthere’ssomeonewho looks like they don’tbelong.I spot Mark and wander

overtohim.“Keatyn!” he says, giving

me a full body hug. “What’sup,girl?”“Not much. I was back in

town and saw this was theplacetobe.Idon’tevenhave

aboard.”“Aw,hell.I’vegotthreein

my van. You can borrowone.”“Thanks.Thisismyfriend,

Cooper.”Mark gives Cooper a fist

bump, and I say hey to theguys that I used to surfwithalmosteveryday.“Brooklyn is shredding it

uponthetour,”onesays.“Howishe?”anotherasks.“He’s living his dream,”

Markanswersforme,comingbackwithtwoboards.Wherever they take him, I

say quietly to myself as theskybrightens.Iwassoworriedabouthow

his leaving would affect methat I didn’t once stop tothinkhowgoodthiswouldbefor him. He’s alreadychanged somuch. The boy Ilefthasgrownintoaman.I sit down in the sand and

call him, knowing he’s

already awake. “Hey, guesswhereIam.”“Areyou safe?That's all I

care about. Tommy andJames told me abouteverything that happened atthe airport and how Garrettfiredyourbodyguard.”“Two things I want to tell

youbeforewegetintothat.”“What'sthat?”“I’m proud of you for

living your dream, and I'mreally sorry I wasn't more

supportive.”“Keats,you'retheonewho

encouraged me. I'll neverforget you telling me tofollowmydreamthatnightattheUndertow.”“I was so afraid you were

nevergoingtokissme.”“I told you I've been

researching stalking cases,but I’m not loving what I'mfinding out. So I'm going tocomeupwithanotherway.”“Okay.”

“We're gonna be togetheragain, Keats. On the beach,where we belong. Don't losesightofthatdream,okay?”Ilookoutatthewaves,the

guyssurfing,andfeelcalm.Ifeellikehe'sright.“Areyouatthebeach?”he

asks.“Howdidyouknow?”“Icanhearthewavesanda

seagull.”“I’m at Manhattan Beach

surfing with Mark and the

boys.Theysayhi.”“How many sunrises have

wewatchedtogether,Keats?”“Alot.”“My favorite part of the

day.”“I’mgonnagocatchafew

wavesbeforewehavetogo.”“Show those boys a little

chaos.”“I’lltry.”

We’ve been surfing for a

couple hours when Cooper

pullsmeasideandsays,“I'mstarting to get nervous aboutbeinghere.”“Why?”“Heknowsyouliketosurf.

Heprobablywenteverywhereand offered a reward toanyone who tips him offwhen you show up. I don’tlike the way those two guysover there are looking atyou.”I smile. “Maybe they just

likemybikini.”

“They took your picture,madeaphonecall, and seemto be watching you evencloser. I'd like to get out ofhere.”“If you’re right, we won’t

wantthemtoseeourcar.Yougo get the car.Drive up twoblocks.I’llmeetyou.”“Two blocks? No way.

What ifVincent showsuportheytrytograbyou?”“Surfers are territorial. All

I have to do is say the guys

arecreepingmeout,andthatthey took my picture. Theystill think of me as B’s girl.Whiletheyconfrontthem,I’llsneakaway.”Cooper grins at me.

“That’sagoodplan.”Iwalkup toMarkand tell

himtheguysarecreepingmeout. He immediately grabsthree guys and goes toconfrontthem.When he does, I take off

running.

I hide behind cars, dodgebehind a restaurant, and thensprintdownasidewalk.I see our car ahead, idling

atthecurb.I jump in the car, slightly

out of breath. “It worked.Go!”Cooper drives all over,

making sure he’s notfollowed.Thenweheadbackto the hotel, where we get adifferent rental car, just incase.We order room service

and eat it on the deckoverlookingthewater.“I could get used to this,”

Cooper says, looking out atthe beach and down at hishugebreakfast.He flips through the paper

whileheeats.“Oh,wow.”“What?”“Lookatthis.”I read a small piece about

how Vincent cut short theMiami tryouts and won’t be

back,much to the outrage offans who had waited in linefor up to three days toaudition.“That really sucks for

them,”Isay,feelingbad.Cooper cocks his head. “I

never paid attention to thename of his film companybefore.Haveyou?”“Uh,no.Whatisit?”“ABreathBehindYou.”A shudder runs down my

spine. “Think that’s directed

atme?”“I’d say so, considering it

spellsoutABBY.”

Wednesday,November9thWe’vechanged.

7:30amCooper and I got back latelast night. I woke up to a

sweettextfromAiden.HottieGod: Imissedyou.

Breakfast?After all the excitement of

the last twodays, Idecide towear a really cute uniformlook.Then I meet Aiden for

breakfast.“So, how was your trip?

Was your sister surprised?”Aidenasksaswesitdownin

thecafé.“Shewassosurprised.”“Sotellmemoreaboutthe

party.”I wish I could tell him

everything.Howscary itwasto seeVincent at the airport.Howamazing it felt to sitonthe beach and to surf again.HowI’vebeenwantingtogohomesobadly.But how home has

changed.“Well, she loved my

presents.Usedthemtoputona little play. She gotchocolatechips,andthestageshe wanted, and she got tobuildsandycastleswith...”“With?”“My ex. He was there

whenIgotthere.Ihadcalledhim because she asked forsomethingspecialfromhim.Ijust wanted him to send hersomething, but he actuallygaveherwhatsheaskedfor.”“Andwhatwasthat?”

“Shewanted to build sandcastles with him. He boughtherasandbox.”“But if your family is just

visiting Vancouver, how didthat work? Were you at ahotel?”“Um,no.Uh,theyleaseda

house because my stepdadhasbusinessthere.Hotelsaretricky with four little kids, adog,andananny.”“Oh, so they’ll be in the

countrymoreoften?”

“Yeah, I thinkmaybe.Wedidn’t really talkmuchaboutthat. It was all about theparty.”“AndwhatabouttheKeats

guy?Howwasseeinghim?”“Emotional.”“Emotional,how?”“Like, a lot of emotions.

First, I was shocked that hewas there. Then I wastouched that he was.Sometimesitfeltnormal,likewe’d never fought. Like we

were friends again. Othertimes it felt a little awkward.Some of the things he saidmade me want to cry. Otherthings made me want tolaugh.”Aidenlaughs.“Thatisalot

ofemotions.”“Iknow.”“You didn’t mention love.

Are you still in love withhim?”“I think part of me will

always love him. But right

now,no,I’mnotinlovewithhim.Ican’tbe.”“Whycan’tyoube?”“Because we can’t be

together. I’m here. He’s offdoing his thing. He’s grownup a lot, though. Goingabroad has been really goodforhim.”“Didyoukisshim?”“Rightwhen Iwas getting

ready to leave,hekissedme.Once,onthelips.”“Andhowdiditfeel?”

“Different.”“Whyisthat?”“Because we’ve changed.”

I gaze into Aiden’s eyes.“Because,he’snotyou.”Aiden’s eyes search mine

for the truth. He must seewhathe’slookingforbecausehe puts his hand behind myneck and guides my lipstowardhis.And when they touch, I

realize why the beach didn’tfeellikehomeanymore.

Because Aiden wasn’t onit.After we kiss, I say,

“Thankyou.”“Forwhat?”“For listening to what

happened without gettingmadandwalkingaway.”He murmurs into my ear,

“I’m never walking awayagain.”

Iownedyour

rug.History

I bringRiley a cupof coffeetohistoryclass.“Oh,” he snaps. “I have a

pickup line I meant to tellDallas.”“And the coffee reminded

youofit?’“Yeah. Next time he’s

standinginlineforcoffeeand

there’s a hot girl there, heshould say, Do you like itsteamyorcreamy?”“Howisthatevenapickup

line? You just made anaughtycomment.”“Ihaveone I’d like to say

toArielarightaboutnow.”“What’sthat?”“I say we bypass all the

bullshitandjustgetnaked.”I give Riley a fist bump.

“You and I think a lot alike.I’d like to say that to Aiden

too.”“Ooooh. You wanna get

nakedwithAiden?”“Mr. Johnson, Miss

Monroe, I’m trying to give alecturehere.”RileyandIrolloureyesat

each other. Then sit hereboredtotears.I whisper to him, “You

know, it seems silly in thisday and age that we have totakenotes.”“I don’t take notes. I let

you take them forme. I’m agooddelegator.”“You’re not a delegator.

You’relazy.”“You’re the one working

while I’m texting my sexygirlfriend. What does thatmakeyou?”I shake my head. “Why

can’t he just email notes tous?Although, ifIdidn’t takenotes, I’d probably fallasleep. And is it naughtytexting?”

“Just stuff,” Riley sayswith an adorable grin. Iswear,he’sgottenevencutersince he and Ariela starteddating.Hestillhasthatcockyswagger,buthejustbeamsallthetime.“What kind of stuff? I’m

stuck in junior high withAiden. Let me livevicariouslythroughyou.”Riley almost drops his

phone. “What aboutDawson?”

“I haven’t done anythingwithhimlately.”“Why?”“BecauseAiden kissedme

withhistongue.”The teacher shushes us

again,sohetextsme.Riley:SoyoulikeAiden?

Me:Yeah.Although,when

Iwent to visitmy family,myexwasthere.

Riley:Howdidthatgo?Me:We’vebecomefriends

again.Riley:Justfriends?

Me:Yeah,fornow.Idon’t

know what the future willhold.Riley: Your exwasa jerk

to you. You should forgetabouthim.

Me:Hewasmyfirst love.

Partofmestillloveshim.Riley: Sometimes the past

shouldstayinthepast.Me: HA! Someone should

tellourteacherthat!Riley: I dare you to ask

him why we have to studyhistory.

I raise my hand andinterruptthelecture.“Yes,MissMonroe?”“Whydowehavetostudy

history?”“Well, that’s easy. We

study history so we don’trepeat the mistakes of thepast.”Riley: OMFG! The

universe just spoke to youagain! How does THATrelatetoyourlife?

Me:AreyousayingifIgot

backtogetherwithmyexthatI would be repeating themistakesofmypast?Riley:Uh,yeah.

Me: People grow and

change. He’s changed. He’snotthepersonthatheusedtobe.NeitheramI.Riley: I REALLY want to

have sex with Ariela on thefurryrug,butifItry,willshegetmadatmeagain?Wouldthatberepeatingamistakeofmypast?Me: I have no idea. But

I’ve always wanted to havesexonthefurryrugtoo.Riley: You’ve been

covetingmyrug?!Me:Iownedyourrug.Has

Dallashadsexontherug?Riley’s eyes get huge and

he holds his hands up to hischin like he’s coveringhimself up. “He wouldn’tdare!Wouldhe?”Ijustshrugmyshoulders.

Shirtlessforfivedays.

CeramicsPeyton texts me duringceramics.Peyton: After you and

Aiden went to that Frenchrestaurant, he told me yousaid something about usgoing to St. Croix with youfor Thanksgiving break. Wejust found out that ourparents aregoing to beona

safari. Whitney wants me tocomewithhertoPalmBeach.Needless to say, the idea ofspending the break with herfamilymakesmewanttopokemy own eyes out. I thoughtabout going to the Johnsons.I know that Riley and Aidenare friends,but Ididn’twantit to be awkward withDawson. So that’s kindaout.That leaves St. Croix withyou.

Me: Glad to hear I’m sohighonthelistofoptions.Peyton: You are first on

our list of options. I’m justtelling you that my backupplans suck so that you willfeelsorryforusandsayyes.I imagine being therewith

Aiden. Seeing him shirtlessforfivedaysstraight.Me:Yes.

Peyton: Really?!!!!!!

Yay!!!We’regoingtohavesomuchfun.AndIpromisethatI won’t be like an annoyingthird wheel or anything. I’llletyouhavetimealone.Ijustwant a beach chair, a view,andagoodbook.Me:Noboys?

Peyton: No boys. But if

you could arrange to bring

hottieCooper,I’dgladlytakeaman.Me:Veryfunny.

Peyton:DoIneedtobook

flights?When do we need toleave?Me: I booked a charter

flight,soyoucanjustjoinme.I’ll havea carpickusuponWednesdayatnoonanddropus of at the Municipal

airport.Peyton: Sounds good :)

Yay!!

That’sharsh.French

“Peyton said she talked toyou about Thanksgivingbreak.Sounds like it’sgonnabe the three of us in St.

Croix.”“Itshouldbefun.”“Tell me about the house.

Whatwe’lldo.”“Well, since I was little,

we’vebeencalling thehouseThe Crab. I can’t rememberwhywenameditthat.Ithasafullstaff,sowewon’texactlybe roughing it. It’s very laidback but very luxurious. Theperfect mix. It’s one of myfavorite places ever. Likeparadise. It has a rooftop

balcony on top of a turretoverlooking the ocean. AndthebedroomIalwaysstay inis in the turret. It’s amazing.Want to know my otherfavoritething?”“Yeah.”“There’s a fountainwith a

tilemosaic of a prince and amermaid,who’ssittingontopofatreasurechest.TheLittleMermaidhasalwaysbeenmyfavorite Disney movie. Ofcourse thatmaybebecause I

wantedtomarryPrinceEric.”“Why’sthat?”“He had a castle on the

beach.”He laughs. “Do you want

toliveinacastleonthebeachsomeday?”“Yes.”“Well, it sounds perfect.

I’mlookingforwardtobothitand going to your loft thisweekend. Mostly, I’mlooking forward to justhangingoutwithyou.”

“I’m looking forward tothelofttoo.Betweentheplayand traveling, I’m tired. Notto mention behind on myhomework.”“Maybeweshouldmeetin

thelibrarytostudytonight.”“Notyourroom?”“If you come tomy room,

we’llkissandnotstudy.”“I’mkindofobsessedwith

yourtongue.”“Why do you think I

waitedsolong?”

“Because your tongue iscursed?”“What?”“Nothing. Why did you

makemewaitsolong?”“I’m hoping that it made

youwant itevenmore.Fromwhat I can tell, you’re a girlwho’susedtogettingexactlywhatshewants.”“Iwish Iwasoneof those

girls,”Anniesayswithahuff.“What’swrong?”Iaskher.“Areyouever afraid tobe

happy?”“All the time. Are things

okaywithyouandAce?”“DidyouhearwhatLogan

didforMaggie?”Aiden says, “Keatyn

helpedhimplanit.”“Then help Ace plan

something romantic.Seriously, the boy doesn’tunderstandromance.”“What do you want to be

romantic? He already askedyouout.”

“Youknowwhat Iwant tobe romantic,” she says tomewithhereyesbuggedout.“Oh, I heard a fun line

about that today. I say webypass all the bullshit andjustgetnaked.”“Wheredidyouhearthat?”

IsaytoAiden.“Rileytoldmeatlunch.”“What else did he tell you

aboutthatline?”“He was just joking and

sayinghewantedtouseiton

Ariela.”I squint my eyes at him.

“Andthat’sit?”Aiden gives me an odd

look.“Uh,yeah,that’sit.”“He didn’t tell you about

anyoneelsethatmayfeelthatway?”“Uh,no.”“I feel that way,” Annie

confesses. “Well, sometimes,but then I want it to beflowersandromance.”“What was your first time

like, Aiden? You’re a fairlyromanticguy,”Isay.“I’ve never really been

romantic. And my first timewasnotromantic.Atall.”“What do you think girls

want?Romance-wise?”Hegivesmea sexysmirk.

“Theywanttobewooed.”Annieclaspsherhandsand

saysdreamily,“Theydo.”After class,Annie says, “I

forgot to tell you. I heard

about this really cool thingonline.There’sthisguythat’sremaking one of AbbyJohnston’s old movies andhe’s doing a nationwidesearch for an actress to play—”“She’s not interested,”

Aiden says firmly to Annie.“Even thoughwe all thoughtshe was amazing, she didn’tenjoy doing the play andwon’tbeactingagain.”“Really?” Annie gives me

abewilderedlook.“Yes,really.Ididn’tlikeit.

Iwanttobeadoctor,Ithink.Although we’re getting backthose career surveys nextweek. Maybe it will tell mewhatIshoulddoforajob.”“But,youcouldmakeaton

ofmoney.All I’dhave todoisnominateyouonline.”“Annie, please don’t. I

would turn it down. I loveEastbrooke and if I got amovie, I’d have to leave. I’d

missyou.”“I’d miss you too. But

whataboutthemoney?”I shrug my shoulder. “I

don’t care. If you nominatedme, I wouldn’t try out. Iwouldn’t even talk to theguy.”“That’s harsh,” she says,

stilllookingatmefunny.

Backinthe

saddleagain.5:35pm

Dawson texts me while I’mlyingonmybedstudying.Dawson:Nothingisgoing

on tonight. Wanna get somedinner? We haven’t hardlytalkedsinceFriday.Me: I’d love to. I miss

talkingtoyou.Aiden calls me as I’m

throwingonacutedress.“Doyouwanttogooutfor

dinnertonight?”“Um, I can’t. Dawson

askedmetohavedinnerwithhim.Hewasoutoftownandthen I was out of town, sowe’regoingtocatchup.”“Catchup?Great.”“Aiden, it’s just dinner. I

still want tomeet you in the

library to study later. Sayeight?”“Yeah,sure.”Icantellbythetoneofhis

voice that he’s not happyabout it. But Dawson is myfriend and I’m still going tohangoutwithhim.Dawson takes me to the

little Italian restaurant wherewewentonwhatwassortofourfirstdate.“Remember when I first

broughtyouhere?”“Yeah,Dawson.Ido.”“Arewegoingtohavesex

again?”“Not right now. I can’t. It

wasmakingmesick.”“Sexwithmewasmaking

yousick?”“Not literally, no. You

know I loved it. But kissingAiden one night and doingthat with you the next feltslutty.”“Slutty would have been

havingsexwithusboth.”“I think it’s easy to say

that. To call girls sluts. Tomake judgments about them.But our sex lives should bepersonal. It’s no one’sbusiness who or how manypeopleIchoosetosleepwith.If peopleworried about theirown personal lives andjudgedthemselvesratherthanothers, I think the worldwouldbeabetterplace.”“Doesthatmeanyouwon’t

judge me when I tell you Ihooked up with the pre-medgirl?”His confession takes the

breath out of my lungs. Ipress my fingertips into myeyebrow.“Keatie...”I close my eyes tightly.

“It’sokay.Iunderstand.”“Ineededtosee.”“If it would be good with

someoneelse?Wasit?”“Shewas drunk and threw

upassoonasweweredone.”“What happened to not

wanting to do it with drunkgirlsanymore?”“Try to find a girl at

college on a Saturday nightwhoisn’tdrunk.”Ilaugh.“I’msurethereare

plenty.”“NotatthepartyIwasat.”“Diditfeelgood?”“Imean,yeah,itfeltgood,

but it didn’t feel the same.Youknow?”

“No, Dawson. I don’tknow. I haven’t done it withanyoneelse.”“Great. Make me feel

guilty.”“I wasn’t trying to make

you feel guilty. I was juststatingafact.BecauseIdon’tknow.”“Cam said I needed to get

backinthesaddleagain.”“Well, of course. I mean,

it’dbeenawholeweeksinceyouwerelastinthesaddle.”

“Thatwassarcastic.”“Yes, Dawson, it was. I

don’t think you should listento Camden. I know you areclose, but I don’t think hegives very good advice.Honestly, Riley has a waybetterheadonhisshoulder.”“Riley is stranded on third

base.”“Rileyisinlove.”“Well,I’mnot.So...”“You’re a good guy too,

Dawes. Don’t let Cam or

college change you. I wouldnever fall for someone likeCamden,butIfellforyou.”“Yeah, I guess you’re

right.”“So,asidefromthat.What

elsedidyoudo?”“Nothing. We got high,

played video games, ate,slept,drank,partied.”“Soundsfun.”“I’m not sure it’s what I

want.”“Whatdoyoumean?”

“I’mnot sure Iwant togotocollegewithhim.”“Where are you thinking

aboutgoing?”“Maybe NYU with Jake.

Did you know he’s thinkingaboutgoingthere?Hisfamilyisgoingtohaveafit,buthe’sexcited.We could get a coolapartment.Oraloft.”“Do you know what you

wanttodo?Whatyouwanttomajorin?”“Cam says he’s majoring

inpussy.”I laugh out loud at that.

“I’m sorry, but that’s reallyfunny.”Dawson grins. “I love

hearingyoulaugh.Ihopewecanstillhavefuntogether.”“It will be a little hard at

first, but I think we’ll getthrough it. I want to stayfriends.”“It’salwaysa littlehardat

first,”Dawsonsnickers.“Your mind is always in

thegutter.”“Justlikeyours.”

Stillmybliss.7:30pm

ItextAiden.Me:I’mbackfromdinner.

Readytostudy?HottieGod:Istudiedsome

before dinner. Do you havemuchlefttodo?Me: Well, technically, I

have two days to turn in mymissedassignments:)Hottie God: So,

technically,youdon’thavetostudy?Me: I can think of some

thingsthatmightbemorefun.

HottieGod:Likewhat?Me: Actually, I do have

somehomework.It’sresearchforaveryimportantproject.Hottie God: Oh, really?

Whatkindofresearch?Me: I’m doing a clinical

studyontheeffectsofFrenchkissing. It’s forFrenchclass.Extracredit.

Hottie God: You shouldprobably conduct thatresearchinmyroom.Me:Iagree.

I freshen up my makeup,

brush my teeth, and hurryovertoAiden’sroom.WhenIknockonhisdoor,hedoesn’tanswer.SoIpeekinside.“You looking forme?” he

says, coming out of Bryce’sroomontheothersideof the

hall.He looks completely

delectable. School jacketslung over his shoulder, tiehalf undone, top buttonunbuttoned.“Iam.”Hegivesmeablazinggrin

asIgrabhis tieandpullhimstraighttomylips.This time it’s no sweet,

feather-lightkiss.No slightlyopen mouth. His tongueslides right into my mouth

and tickles my tongue. It’splayful and fun for a second,but quickly turns moreserious.He walks me backward

intohisroom,shutshisdoor,and pulls me onto his futonwithout his lips leavingmine.Histongueislikeadrug.And I’m completely

addicted.Hegentlygrabsmybottom

lipwithhisteeth,pullingatit

slightly.“Observationnumberone,”

I say. “Kissee thinks it’s hotwhenkisserbitesherlip.”He runs his tongue across

mylowerlip.“Observation number two:

Kisseelikestobegreetedlikethat.”Iputbothmyhandsonhis

cheeksandkisshimslowly.“Observation number

three:Kisseebelieveskisser’stonguecontainssometypeof

addictive, and possiblyillegal, drug. Either a lovepotionorcrack.This causes Aiden to

chuckle.“Addictive,huh?”He runs the back of his

hand down the side of myface,thenundermyjaw.I close my eyes and feel.

Let myself feel all theemotions for Aiden that I’vebeentryingnottofeel.Tryingtotalkmyselfoutof.

“Very.”Hesitsuponthefutonand

pulls me sideways onto hislap.Irakemyfingersthroughhis hair and kiss him like agirlwho’sdesperateforafix.Two and a half hours of

making out and it’s still notenough.I stand on the first step

outsidemydorm,makingmealmost as tall as him, wrapmyarmsaroundhisneck,and

kisshimagainandagain.ThenIwandertomyroom

inadaze.Maggie and Katie are in

my room still studying forwhatever test has beencompletely wiped from mymind.“YoulooklikeMaggiedid

whenshewalkedin.Dreamy.Dazed. Red lips. You beenkissingAiden?”“Iheardyouwenttodinner

with Dawson,” Maggie says.

“Whowereyoukissing?”“Aiden,” I say with a

dreamy sigh. “Dawson and Ijusthaddinner.Hehookedupwithagirlthisweekend.”“Really?” Maggie says.

“Thatwasfast.”“I know. Makes me feel

like I made the right choice,though.”“Youwentagainstfate.”“No, I went against

chance.”“Whatever. I’m glad you

twoarehappy,”Katiesays.“You’re one to talk. You

andBrycehavebeenawfullycozy.”She smiles and bounces a

little. “Yeah, we have, butI’m trying to be smart aboutit.”“I’m gonna go shower

before bed,” I tell them. Igive Maggie a quick hug.“Seeyoutomorrow.”I takeashowerandexpect

Katietobeasleepbythetime

Ifinish,butshe’sstillawake,textingBryce.“Wow.Youmustlikehim.

You’restillawake.”“He’s fun to talk to,” she

says,goingbacktohertext.Ilookatmyphone.There’s a text from

Brooklyn.B: Call me if you have a

chance. Iwant to talk to youaboutsomestuff.

I tell Katie that I’m goingtothekitchentoscroungefora snack, but go in thestairwellandcallhim.“Hey.”“So I’ve been researching

stalking cases. Want to hearsomestatistics?”“Sure.”“Ifoundoutthathalfofall

stalkers threaten violence butthatonlytwopercentactuallykill.”“So I have a 98% chance

of surviving this. I like thoseodds.”“Stalking is a felony but

oftendismissedduetolackofevidence. Do you rememberthat pop singer that wasstalked? The guy toldeveryone they were secretlyengaged. Sort of remindsmeof Vincent saying that he’sgoing to make a movie withAbby,youknow?”“Uh,huh.”“Stalkersalso tend tohave

inflatedegos,impersonalsex,no remorse, and superficialcharm.Butitallcomesdowntoonething.”“What’sthat?”“Controlanddomination.”“Garrettalreadytoldmeall

thatstuff.”“Well, I was thinking of

something. Possibly adifferentapproach to fightinghim.”“What’sthat?”“Whatifwemadehimfeel

outofcontrol?”“I suggested that I do a

sluttyvideoorsomethinglikeMom’snewmovie. Iwonderwhat will happen when itreleases. Hopefully it won’tsendhimovertheedge.”“What if the control had

nothingtodowithyou?”“Howwouldwedothat?”“My dad’s company is

fighting off a hostiletakeover.”“I’msorry.”

“That’s what I think weshoulddo toVincent.Wedoa hostile takeover of hisproduction company. Givingus the rights to the film. Ifthat film is as important tohimasI thinkit is,hewouldfight the takeover like crazy.Itmightnotmakehimforgetyou, but it might give himsomething else to do besidesa nationwide search for you.It would keep you safer,longer. Then if we get the

rights...”“We could make the film

ourselves.”“Exactly.”“Do you know how much

hisfilmcompanyisworth?”“No, but I know someone

whocanfindoutforus.”“He inherited a lot of

moneywhenhisgrandmotherdied.”“You inherited a lot of

money fromyour dad, didn’tyou?”

“Yeah.”“And I have a big trust

fund too. And if we didn’thave enough, we’d raise thecapitalsomehow.”I start to get tears in my

eyes,thenaccidentallyletoutalittlesob.“Keats,don’tcry.”“Thanks, B. Everyone has

beengreatintryingtoprotectme.But I feel like I havenocontrol.Iwanttofightback.”“We’ll fight together. I

want you back on the beachwithme.”“It’slatehere.Ineedtoget

some sleep. Let me knowwhatyoufindout.”“It will probably be a few

weeks. They have to getthroughtheirdealfirst.Night,Keats.”I go back in my room,

loosely braid my still damphair,andliedown.Myphonebuzzes.

Hottie God: Observation

number four: You lips arestill my bliss. Speaking ofthat...Youstilloweme$40forgettingourphonesoutofjail.Me: Imight owe you $20

formyphone,butyouhavetolearn to bemore responsiblewithyourbelongings.Hottie God: I am willing

tonegotiateatrade.Me: Does the trade

involvekissing?HottieGod:Yes.

Me:ThenItotallyoweyou

$40.HottieGod:Night,Boots.

I’malmostasleepwhenmy

phonebuzzesagain.

B: Rememberwhen I told

you that Keats quote in thehottubbeforewefirstkissed?I just found out there’smoreto it. And it gives me hope.“A thing of beauty is a joyforever: its lovelinessincreases; it will never passintonothingness.”

Thursday,November10th

Hedoesn’tknowyou.

4:30pm

After dance, Peyton asksmeif Iwant to get coffee. It’s acold and dreary day andcoffeesoundsreallygood.Right before we get there,

shesays,“Whitneyismeetingus.”“Why—”“Thanks for meeting me,”

Whitney says, interruptingmy question. “I thought weshould go over the Frenchweekendmenu.”Shebabbleson,butI’mnot

sure why she thinks we’regoingoverit.Basically,sheisjust telling us what she’salreadypickedout.She’s just closing her

laptopwhenCooperwandersinandordersacoffee.“Did you know that he

comes here every day aftersoccerpractice?”“Uh,no,”Peytonsays,asI

shakemyhead.“He’s interesting.

Mysterious.”

“Howso?”Iask.“No Facebook page that I

can find.No girlfriend that Icantell.”“He just moved here,” I

counter. “He probablydoesn’tknowanyone.”“Speaking of not knowing

anyone,” Whitney says,looking me directly in theeye. “It turns out that I’mFacebook friends with a guyfromyouroldschool.Suchasmall world. Funny thing is,

though, he doesn’t knowyou.”“How would you know

where I used to go toschool?”“I’m sure you mentioned

it.”Ishakemyhead.“No,I’m

prettysureIhaven’t.”“Well, Imust have seen it

somewhere.”Yeah,likemaybewhenshe

brokeintothedean’soffice.“Okay?”

“I just think it’s a bit oddthathedidn’tknowyou.”I need to sound

unconcerned, so I use myAlpha girl bitch voice toreply. “What’d the guy looklike?”“Whatdoyoumean?”“Imean,washehot?Why

would I bother being friendswithaguywhowasn’thot?”“I don’t know. I didn’t

really pay attention. Is thattheonlyreasonyouhangout

withDawson?”I laugh and try to change

the subject. “Actually, Iwantedhisbrother.”Peyton triesunsuccessfully

to stifle a chuckle asWhitney’s eyes get huge.“You wanted Camden? Butyou...”“Why would I want

Camden? I meant Riley,” Isay innocently, but knowingfullwellthatIstruckanerve.Whitney sneers at Peyton,

but Peyton just shrugs ashoulder.Whiletheystareeachother

down, I text Cooper becauseI’mfreakingout.Me: Meet me in your

officeinten?Whitney grabs my phone.

“Whoareyoutexting?We’rehaving a discussion here.”She looks atmy phone, seesmy text, and can’t disguise

the mad crinkle between hereyebrows. “You’re textinghim?”“Ijustdid,yes.Iaskedhim

earlier if we could meet totalk about a summer soccercamp.”“Bullshit,” she counters.

“He’ssittingright there.Youcould’ve walked over andasked him. You’re hidingsomething. Don’t thinkPeyton and I don’t knowthat.”

“I just didn’t want tobother him,” I state as myphone lightsup inWhitney’shand.Shesquintshereyesatme.

“It seems tome likeyouandMr. Steele are together quiteabit.”“You’vehadmeetingswith

himtoo.”Shehuffs.I don’t bother to reply. I

standupandsay,“Ibettergetgoing.”

I walk over to whereCooper is sitting, lean down,andsayquietly,“Let’sgo.”Hegathershisstuffup.When we get outside, I

grab his elbow and pull himaround the side of thebuilding.“Whatareyoudoing?”“We’re hiding. And we’re

not going to your office.Weneed to go somewhere else.Somewhere private. I have abigproblem.”

He glances at his watch.“Let’s go to the Teachers’Lounge. It’s late enough thatnoonewillbeinthere.”When we get locked into

the room, he says, “What’sthebigproblem?”“Ineedtodeleteallmyold

social media. Now that Ithink about it, I don’t evenunderstandwhyGarrettdidn’tdothatinthefirstplace.”“Hewas looking for clues

andproofanywherehecould.Whydoyouwanttodeleteitnow?”“Whitney told me that

she’s friends with someonefrommyoldschool.”“Youroldschool?”“The school that’s in my

transcripts. The one I didn’tactuallygoto.”He puts his fist up to his

chin. “Oh. That could be aproblem.Howdoes she evenknow that?Whydid you tell

people?”“Ididn’t.But awhile ago,

someone broke into theschool office and accessedmy records. I thought at thetime itwasVincent,butnowI’m almost positive that itwasher.”“She’s a piece of work,

that girl. She doesn’tunderstand the meaning ofno.”“Right.Sowhatifshegets

really serious about figuring

out who I am? What ifsomehow she finds an oldpicture of me and pieces ittogether? Do you know howmany pictures I have on myFacebook page? She’d lovenothing more than to telleveryonethatI’vebeenlyingto them. To embarrass me.Ruinme socially. I’m gonnacallGarrett.”“I’lldoit,”Coopersays.He calls Garrett and fills

him in on the situation in a

verybusinesslikemanner.Heendsthecallandthenturnstome. “He’s out of town butsaysthathejustinformedtheoffice to change yourpasswords back to your oldones and agrees that deletingthem is a good idea at thispoint.”Cooper stands up and

paceswhileIlogintoTwitter.I don’t bother lookingat anyofit.IjusthitDeleteandthenverify that I’m sure. I do the

sameforPinterest,Instagram,Polyvore,andTumblr.Idopause,takingaminute

to scroll through themagnificence of all the hotguy photos I collected overtheyearsonTumblr.RiAnneand I dubbed it the HottieVault.I smile. Happy memories

of parties, shoppingexcursions,anddaysspentbythe pool with Vanessa andRiAnnerollthroughmyhead.

I think back to all themistakes I made withBrooklyn and realize Iprobably made plenty withthem too. Maybe part ofloving yourself is takingresponsibility for youractions.Vanessadidn’tmakeme into a bitch. I’m prettysureIdidthatallbymyself.ThenIgetonFacebook.This is harder. My cover

photo is ofmeandBrooklynin Monaco. My profile

picture our new matchingtattoos.I scroll down through my

wall. No one seems to becommenting anymore orwondering where I am. Themysteryofwhy I left is nowoldnews.But every week—make

that every Saturday morning—there is a post fromRiAnne.Itsimplysays,Imissyou.And it touchesme. Really

touchesme.Maybe if I go back home

someday, we’ll be friendsagain.I pull up her photos,

clicking through pictures ofher and Vanessa. At parties.Ondates.AtHomecoming.But the pictures look off.

Because I’m missing fromthem.Since I’m a glutton for

punishment,IclickonCush’sprofile.

I squint my eyes at hisprofilepicture.It’saphotoofhimandagirldressedupforHomecoming.I click on the photo to

make it bigger because myeyesmustbedeceivingme.Buttheyaren’t.Thisgirl,whoisprettybut

sort of plain looking, mostlybecause she isn't evenwearing mascara—toHomecoming, seriously? Imean, I’m all about fresh-

facedbeauty.I'mfinesurfing,working out, or hanging outwithnomakeupon.Butonaspecial night with a specialguy that you are going tohavepicturesoffortherestofyourlife?Come on! At least put on

some mascara and some lipgloss! You know how Vanessa

wanted to make the rugbyplayerhotter?ThisgirlfriendofCush’sis

like the anti-Vanessa. She'ssomehow made larger-than-lifeCushlookplaintoo.His slacks and dress shirt

areslightlycrumpledlooking.There’s no product in hishair. And his posture is off.He doesn’t look like the tall,proud, cockyCushman that Iknow.I click through somemore

photos.Oh.My.God.He’slosinghisabs.

Seriously. He looks likehe's already gone to collegeandgottenabeerbelly.What the hell has this girl

donetohim?Ican'tstopmyfingersfrom

typing.Me:Cush?Where the hell

didyourabsgo?He's not showing online,

but he messages me backinstantly, probably from his

phone.Brandon: Haha.Keatyn,I

haven't talked to you inforever and that's the firstthingyouask?Me: I’m sorry. That was

rude of me. How’s theCushman?Brandon: Well, first off.

I’m not that guy anymore.Cushman was a conceited

asshole. Everyone here callsmeBrandon.Me:Um.Okay.Brandon: You said you

were somewhere good foryou. Are you learning looksand partying aren't all thatimportant?Me: I’d say I’m learning

thatlifeisallaboutbalance.Ihavetogo.Itwasnicetalking

toyou,Brandon.TheCushmanisdead.AndIwanttocry.

The computer chimes.

Cooper stops pacing andlooksovermyshoulder.“Areyou chatting? You’resupposedtobedeleting.”“Iam.Ijust...”

RiAnne: Please say hi to

me.

Me:Hi.RiAnne:Isitreallyyou?

Me: Yes. Thank you for

messaging me every week.Youare theonly friend todothat.It’ssosweet.RiAnne: Vanessa is still

madyouleftus,butshe'swithme at the coffee shop everySaturday morning when I

postit.Me: Tellmewhat's going

on.Imissyou.RiAnne: I miss you too.

Vanessa is dating the rugbyplayer. They wereHomecoming prince andprincessthisyear.Me:That'scool.

RiAnne: And guesswhat?

Iwasnominated!Me: That's a big honor,

Ri.RiAnne: Thanks. Where

areyou?Me: I can't tell you.

Random question, but I sawsome pictures of V and Bamand there was a guy there.ThathotolderguyItalkedtoatthehotel.Doyouhangout

withhim?RiAnne:Weseehimatthe

clubsometimes.Ithinkhe'sacreeper.ButVthinkshe'shot.She's gone to his house andstuff. Like for the wholeweekend.Youknow.Iwanttothrowup.

RiAnne: But not lately.

She's actually pretty intorugby. Like she's gone to all

his games. And she hasn'tcheated on him in threeweeks, which is a record.Apparently, he’s great in thesack.Me:I’mgladshe'shappy.

Whataboutyou?RiAnne: Same. So many

guys to kiss, so little time.LatelyIhavebeenkissingonAlexLittleton.

Me:Ri!!Heishot!!!RiAnne:Iknow,right?I'm

all that.We’ve beenworkingout together and I've lost 61/2pounds.Me:Isheagoodkisser?

RiAnne:The.Best.

Me: I have to go. I'm

deletingmyprofile.

RiAnne:No!Youcan't.Me: I have to. There is a

girlherewhohatesmeandIdon'twanthertoknowaboutmyoldlife.RiAnne: Keatyn, you of

anyone ought to be able tohandleameangirl.Me: Yeah, I know. And I

promise, if I ever get backhome,I’llcallyou.

RiAnne:Pinkieswear?

I get tears inmy eyes as I

type.Me:Yeah,Ri.Ido.

RiAnne: You know, if you

would’ve stood up toVanessa, liketoherface,shewould’verespectedyouforit.Me: That’s good advice.

Youtakingityourself?RiAnne: Yeah. And I’m

muchhappier.(That,andI’mskinnierthanher.)Idon’t reply. Iwipea tear

frommyeye.ThenIdoit.Delete, delete. Yes, I'm

sure.“Done,”IsaytoCooper.“Tonight after curfew,

meet me in the small gym.We’llgettowork.”

Friday,November11thShoeporn.3:15pm

Aftersoccerpractice,Cooperherds me into his office and

shutsthedoor.I’m tired from being up

late last night learning anassailant’s attack zones.Muscles I didn’t even knowexistedaresore.“Youneedtolayoffonthe

workouts. I’m so sore fromlast night. Thank goodness Idon’t have dance or a gametonight.”“Tonight iswhat Iwant to

talk to you about. Going toNew York is not a good

idea.”“I’mgoing.”“Then I’m going with

you.”“No,you’renot.”“Whereareyoustaying?”“I’llbeatmyloft,Cooper.

Noonefrommyoldlife—noteven my family—knowsabout it. A few people fromschool have been there butother than that, only Garrettand the guy that handles mymoneyknowwhere it is. I’m

safethere.”“Whatifsomeoneseesyou

in the street? Or worse, infront of your loft, and thinksyou look likeAbbyandcallshim?Healreadydidauditionsthere.”“That’s why New York

City is safe. Everyone is toobusy to notice me. And Ireally don’t look that muchlike her in passing. It’s onlythe combination ofmy voiceand gestures when people

seem to notice. So I won’ttalk to anyone. I’ll wearsunglasses.”“You should be more

afraid. How can you not bescaredafterVancouver?”“Iamscared,butIcan’tlet

itrulemylife.Iknowwehadaclose call. I’mgrateful thatyou planned ahead and hecouldn’t trace our flights. Iknow you got out the gunsand we all kind of freakedout, but he wasn’t going to

forcefullytakemeinfrontofallthosepeople.”“Allwhat people?Me and

twopilots?That’snothing.InMiami, he would have liedhiswayoutof theclub.Saidyou were drunk or sick. Hecould have drugged you. HecouldflashafakebadgelikeIdid and say you were afugitive.Noonewould thinktwice. He’s a brilliant liar.Hell, he’s lying to thewholecountryrightnow.”

“I gave up everything Ilove to keep my family andfriendssafe.GarretttoldmeImayneverget togoback.” Istart to cry. “That I have tostartanewlife.I’mtryingsohardtodothat.”Hepullsmeintoahug,just

asWhitneyburststhroughthedoor.I jump and pull out of

Cooper’shug.“What’s wrong?”Whitney

snaps.

Cooper takes control,herding her out of the roomand saying harshly, “Don’teverbargeintomyofficelikethatagain.Doyouunderstandme?”“But she barged in your

officejusttheotherday.Whywasthatokay?”“She’s on my soccer

team.”“And I’m in your health

class.”“Make an appointment.”

Theforcethathesaysitwithmakes me glad he’s on myside.Whitney nods obediently

andsayspolitely.“I’msorry,Mr.Steele, Ihoped to talk toyou about the FrenchWeekend.”“Asyoucansee,I’mbusy.

If you don’t stop randomlydropping by without anappointment, I’ll withdrawmy help on the project. Weclear?”

“Uh, yes, sir.” She turnsandwalksquicklyaway.“And if I open this door

andcatchyoueavesdropping,you’ll be finding yourself indetention.”Hesitsonthecornerofhis

desk. “Continuing. You’vebeen there how many timesbefore?”“Just twice. Once with

Dawson and once with myfriends.”“And one of those times

Vincentwasthere?”“Yes.Buthewasfollowing

my mom, not me. AndGarrett told me to trust mygut.MyguttellsmeI’msafethere. For now. Like I am atschool.”“For now,” he adds

somberly.“The loft is where Garrett

toldmetogoifVincenteverfoundoutI’mhere.”Cooper nods. “I’m just

tryingtothinkahead.Ofwhat

couldgowrong.”“What do you think could

gowrong?”“A million things. But,

realistically, he’d have toknowyouwereheretoknowyou went there. So then itbecomes the possibility thatheseesyousomewherethere.That’s probably not going tohappen randomly. So he’dhave someone looking foryou. Like he did inVancouver. Like I’m pretty

sure he had on the beach.He’d go to the places he’dexpect you to go. Clubs.Shopping. Favoriterestaurant. Could he knowany of those things aboutyou?”“Inevertoldhim.”“OnFacebookmaybe?”“No. I never posted

anything about New York.Theonlythingcouldbe...”“Couldbewhat?”“Shoeporn,maybe.”

“What the hell is shoeporn?”“It’swhenyoupostaphoto

ofahotshoeonsocialmedia.Shoes that other girls willdrool over. Kind of like youwouldoverahotguy.”Cooper laughs and shakes

his head. “Shoe porn. NowI’veheardeverything.So,I’dgo to shoe stores, flash aphoto of you, give them mycard, tell them it’s ahundredbucksiftheycallme.”

“WouldyoudothatinNewYork?”He thinks for a second.

“NewYork.Miami.Neartherehab inUtah.And probablyVancouver. Upscale stores.Shoedepartment.”“So I can’t go shoe

shopping?”“Noshoeshopping.”“Ican’t...”“Do you want to go by

yourself? I likeNewYork. Icouldcomestaywithyouand

Aiden.That’dbecozy.”“Fine.Noshoeshopping.”“Do you promise? I’m

serious.Doyoupromise?”I close my eyes and nod.

“Yeah.Ipromise.”

Forarainyday.8pm

Aiden walks in my loft andsays, “Wow. The ceiling is

amazing.”I tellhimabout thehistory

ofthebuilding.Itsformerlifeasasmallconcerthall.“What about all the

furniture?”“A designer chose all the

pieces. I did some designboards that mixed pieces offurniturewithcolors,clothes,and shoes I love andsomehowheextrapolatedthattofurnitureandaccessories.”“I want to see it all,” he

says, grabbing my hand andleading me around like heowns theplace. I thinkaboutDawson. How he barely gotme in the door beforeattackingme.Partofmewashoping the loft would havethesameeffectonAiden.But part of me is glad it

hasn’t.When he lets go of my

hand to examine a funkyhand-blown glass piece, Inotice how perfect Aiden

looksinhere.Almostlikethedesigner picked him out too.He's wearing jeans that arefashionablyrippedandfrayedat the seams. A Band ofOutsiders jersey hoodie thatskims across his muscles. Acasualblazer.Having Aiden here makes

my loft feel more like ahome.It’sweird.WhenIthinkof

home, I think of Malibu. Ofmyfamily.

I’ve tried to write newscripts. Ones where I gohome.OneswhereIdon’tgetto go home. Ones whereDawson and I live in theHamptons.OneswhereAidenandI live inNapaandwatchthe sunset together. Oneswhere Brooklyn tells me hewishedonthemoonthenightof prom and where we stayup to watch the sunrisetogether.Butwhen it comes time to

write it down—to actuallyscript it—I can’t do it.Instead, I keep writing whathappens every day in myjournal.IfigureifVincentgetsme,

maybe someone will find itand use it for a Lifetimemovie.I’mbroughtbacktoreality

whenAidensays,“IthinkI'lltake this one,” in one of theguestrooms.Hewalksoutoftheroomthenreturnswithhis

leather duffle and backpackandsetsthemonthebed.Is it bad thatwhenhe told

me thathewanted touse thefeather on me here that Iassumed that we were goingto sleep together?And that Ihave a purse full ofcondoms?Aidentakesmyhandinhis

andcontinuestoexplore,nowlanding in thekitchen.“Lovethe teal island. And thestainless steel appliances

mixedwith therusticpaintedfurniture.” He pulls me intohisarmsandkisses thetipofmynose.“DidItellyouI'maprettygoodcook?”I want to say I'm not

surprised; you're good ateverything, but I say, “Doesthatmeanyou’regonnacookformetonight?”He opens the fridge and

looks inside. “You'reprepared.”“Yeah, I wasn't sure what

you'dwanttodo,soIorderedinabunchoffood.”Hegrabs an apple, takes a

big bite out of it, and shutsthe door. “Let's seeeverything else, then we’lldecide.”“This was another big

selling point,” I say, leadinghim out the door off thekitchen. “Outdoor space ishard to find, so thismadeupfor the fact that it isn't onParkAvenue.”

“My sister told me aboutthehottub.Lovetheoutdoorspace.Showmeyourroom.”Myroom.Mybed.I lead him into the

bedroom,whereheletsgoofmyhandtocheckitout.First,hepeeksinthebathroom."Soyou've never taken a bath inhere?"“No,notyet.”“We’lladdthattothelist.”“Thelist?”

“Yeah, of the thingswe’regoing to do this weekend.This your closet?” he asks,interrupting my thoughts ofhim lyingnakedonmy furryrug.Inodasheopensthedoor.

Hestepsinandthenturnsandgrins at me. “This has to beyour favorite room in thehouse.”“Whydoyouthinkthat?”“It just feelsdifferent.Has

adifferentvibe.”

“I had it decorated exactlylikemyclosetathome.”Aiden is listening but he's

also poking through thecloset.LookingattheshoesIbought last time I was herebut didn’t take back toschool.SomebasicsIorderedonlinejustincaseIeverhaveto leave everything at schooland run. He glances at thebook of Keats’ poetry that’slyingon the tablenext tomychaise, not knowing that the

four-leafcloverhegavemeissafelypressedinside.“You don't have any

pictures of your family,” hestates.“Ihaven'thadthechanceto

add many personal touchesyet.”Iopenadrawerandpullout a small silver frame.“This ismeholdingmy littlesisterwhenshewasborn.”He takes the frame out of

myhandandstudiesit.“She'stiny and adorable. You look

young.”“It was three years ago.

Thanksforencouragingmetogotoherparty.I’msogladIdidn’tmissit.”He flashes me a beaming

smile, hands me back thephoto, then makes a beelinefor thelongburgundydressIbought when we wentshopping for Homecoming.“What'sthisfor?”“Oh, Idon'tknow.I found

itwhenwewereshoppingfor

courtdresses.I'msavingit.”“Youdothat,don'tyou?”“Dowhat?”“Buy clothes in the hopes

that you'll have somewhereperfecttowearthem.Likethedress you were saving forParis.”“Yeah,IguessIdo.”“You're hopeful.

Optimistic. I like that aboutyou. What about these?” Hepoints to a shoebox as hepops off the lid. “Why are

these in their box and notdisplayedontheshelveswiththeothers?”He pulls out the shoes I

was wearing when Vincenttried to kidnap me. A lumpformsinmythroatandIcan'treply."Oh. This one’s broken,”

hesays.“Whathappened?”I’mtryingtothinkupalie

when a note falls off theshoe.Aidenpicksitupandreads

it aloud. “I thought youneeded to be reunited withfootwearthatistherealyou.-G.Who'sG?”“Garrett. My um, uncle.

You met him atHomecoming.”“Why does he think a

brokenshoeistherealyou?”Seeing Aiden holding my

shoe makes me long for thewhite knight. For the princewho kills the dark man. Theprincewhosavesme.

“IwaskindanervouswhenI came to Eastbrooke. Youknow,wonderingifI'dfitin.”“So he sent you broken

shoes?”Fuck. Why does Aiden

have to ask so manyquestions? Dawson neverthoughttwiceabouttheshoesormycloset.“They are my favorite

shoes ever,” I answerhonestly, as I take the shoeout of his hand and put it

backinthebox.“Iworethematmy17thbirthdayparty.ButthenIgot,um,drunkandfellandbroketheheelandIjust...”I can't do it. I can’t stand

hereandlietoAiden’sface.Lyingtohimhurtsme.Literally, physically hurts

me.“Anyway,youhaven'tseen

theupstairsyet.Comeon.” Itearoutofmycloset,prayinghewill followme and forget

abouttheshoes.Hedoes.We climb the stairs. Since

it’s dark, the stars areglowing. And they areeverywhere. I think thedesigner went a littleoverboard, but they’reamazing.Ilovethem.Aiden pulls me onto the

chaise with him. “Look atthat,” he says, pointing.“There'samoonoverthereinthecorner.”

“I never told them to putupamoon.”“It probably came in the

packet.Onecameinmine.”“Whydidn'tyouputitup?”“Ifiguredit'dgetlostinall

the stars.”He leansme backandkissesme.Anotherperfectkiss.Irunmyhandsthroughthe

back of his hair and kiss thesideofhisface.He stops kissing me and

pulls me up off the couch.

“Youneedtogochange.”“Like intosomethingmore

comfortable?” Oh, yippee-freaking-yay!“No, like into that dress

youweresaving.”“Why?”“It'sasurprise.Meetmein

thekitcheninfiveminutes.”“Ten. If I'm gonna wear

thatdress,Ineedto touchupmymakeup.”He nods in agreement and

headsdownthestairs.

Iruninmybedroom,touchup my makeup, throw myhair back into a messy bun,slide on the dress, add somestrappy heels, and head backouttothekitchenjustintimeto watch Aiden popping abottleofchampagne.He hands me a flute and

clinks my glass. “Here’s tonotwaitingforarainyday.”“You look nice,” I say,

knowing it’s anunderstatement as I take in

hisblacksuitandblackshirt.I've never seen him wearingallblack.Itmakeshimlookalittle dangerous. Especiallywiththenaughtygleaminhiseyes.He grabs my hand, leads

me to the door, and says,“Ourcar’shere.”Wegooutsideandgetinto

abigblacklimo.“Wherearewegoing?”Hepullsme intohis arms.

“You’llsee.”

Soon, the car pulls up to

the Empire State Building. Ismile. “Are we going to thetop?”“Weare.”He pushes me into the

corner of the elevator andgivesmeakiss.Akiss thatIcanfeelallthewaytothetipsof my Louboutin-encasedtoes. A kiss that has waymore tongue than isappropriate for a crowded

elevator.“That's because you look

beautiful,”hewhispersinmyear.Islidemyhandsinsidehis

jacket,feelinglikeIjuststoleacookie.Aiden holds my hand

tightly as the elevator dingsandwefileout.I love how smallmyhand

feels in his. And thepossessiveness and control Ifeelinhisfirmgrip.

He leads me to an emptyspot at the railing, where hestands directly behind me,whispering in my ear andpointing out lights I shouldlookat.But I’m focused on our

hands.It's hard to feel where my

handendsandhisbegins.They are interlaced.

Entwined.My ruffled dress is

blowinginthewindandIfeel

likeIbelongonamovieset.Aiden squeezes my hand.

“I think theguynext tous isgetting ready topropose. I’mgonnarecordit.”He grabs his phone out of

hispocketandpressesrecord.He holdsme tight, keeps hismouth next to my ear, andgivesmeaplay-by-playinhisdeep,sexyvoice.His breath tickles my ear.

“He's so nervous. Look howhe keeps smoothing out his

jacket. I bet the ring’s in hispocket there.Oh. Look.He'sgrabbingbothofherhands.”“Shhh.Iwanttohearwhat

hesays.”“Lisa, my butterfly,” the

man says in a strong,confidentvoice.Hemayhavebeen nervous before, but thestrength inhisvoice tellsmethatwhateverelsehe’saboutto say, he means. Deeply.“You’vemade theworldas Iusedtoknowituninhabitable.

I’m not the same man youmetayearagotoday.You'veturned my life upside downand turned this cynic into alovesick fool. With you, thesun shines brighter, foodtastesbetter,andI'llneverbeable to go back to my oldworld. I need you to marryme. Save me. Have mybabies.Growoldwithme.”Hetakesherhandandgets

down on one knee. Eventhough Aiden and I totally

knew this was coming, sheseems utterly shocked by it.Her eyes are big and tearyandyoucantellherhearthasstopped beating. She’sholdingherbreathashesays,“Lisa Monterrey, will youmarryme?”Lisa cries instead of

replies.“Uh oh,” Aiden whispers.

“Isshegonnasayno?”I shake my head, because

it’s so obvious to me that

she's going to say yes. She’sjustovercomewithemotion.“Butterfly?” he says

tentatively.Lisa she throws her arms

around him and sobs, “Yes.Yes.Amilliontimes,yes.”“Heforgotthering,”Aiden

whispers.Theykissandthenhepulls

a ring box out of the jacketpocket he kept smoothingdownearlier.Inside is a glittering

emerald-cut diamond. “It'sbeautiful,” she and I bothwhisperatthesametime.It’samagicalmoment.I’ve

seen people get engaged inthe movies. But this isdifferent. Their love feels soraw.Soimperfectlyperfect.He slips it on her finger

andtheykiss.Ican'thelpit.Iclap.Lisashowsmetheringand

hugsbothAidenandme.“Congratulations,” I tell

her.Aidensays,“Icouldtellhe

was going to propose, so Irecorded it for you. If youwantit.”“Really?”Lisasays,falling

in love with Aiden in aninstant. “Ohmigawd, I loveyou.” She lays a big kiss inhis cheek. “I can't evenrememberwhathesaid.”“He said you are his

world,”Iwhisper.

“That was amazing!”Aiden says as we’re gettingbackintothelimo.“I know! It was so

romantic. Actually, that kissin the elevator was prettyromantictoo.”He leans over and presses

his lips into mine. Gentle atfirst, like always, then thatslow buildup to when heslides his tongue in mymouth.Howhelikesto teasemewithit.HowItrytocatch

itsoIcansuckonitbuthowhe always catches mineinstead.Howgood it feelsashis hands grip my bareshoulders. How I can’tbelievewegotdressedupjusttogotothetopoftheEmpireStateBuilding.“What’snext?”Iask.He kisses me again in

reply.Andthenagainandagain.“What do you want to

do?”

I don’t answer, just standup, stickmy head out of thesunroof, and scream,“Whoooooooo!”Aiden joins me

immediately. He laughs andscreams with me. Then heturns toward me and placesbothhishandsonmywaist.Istopmovingandgazeintohiseyes. It’s one of thosemoments where time feelslikeitstandsstill.Thecity isrushing by, the crowds are

moving busily down thestreets, the taxisarehonking,butitfeelslikeit’sjustus.It’s a beautiful, perfect

moment.“Let’sgodancing.”“Dancing? Really?! That

soundsfun!Whereto?”“I don’t really know any

goodclubs,doyou?”“Hmm. Let me make a

quickcall.”I sit back in the limo and

callDamian.“Hey,bigfavor.

Do you think you could getmeon theVIP listatFeel inNewYorkCity?”“Howmany?”“Justtwo.”“Ooohhh.”“Shutup.”“I’llhaveourmanagercall.

Hecangetinanywhere.VIP.TwoforDouglas.”Icough.“Uh,Monroe.”“Oh, shit. My bad.

Monroe.”“Excellent.Thankyou.”

IpullAidenbackinthecarwithme.“Whydon’tyoutellthedrivertotakeustoFeel?”“Feel?”“Yeah, it’s a new club. I

haven’t been, but I’ve heardit’scrazy.”Hepullsmeon topofhim

and slides his tongue up theside of my neck. “Crazysoundsgood.”I respond by running my

hands inside his suit jacket,from his hips up his tight

torso, and to the top of hischest. Then I wrap an armaround his neck and run myfingersthroughhishair.He lets out a little growl.

“Myhandsaregoingtobealloveryou in theclub.Feelingeverybitofyou.”“Why do you think I

picked that club?” I replywithasmirk.Wepullupinthelimo,are

escorted past the longentrance line, and allowed

direct access to the lushVIParea. Complete with deeppurple couches and a bird’s-eyeviewofthedancinggoingon below. You can feel thebeatofthemusic,buttheareaisinsulatedsoyoucantalk.Aidencheckshisjacket.“DoyouhaveaT-shirt on

underyourdressshirt?”Henods.“Yeah.”I move close to him and

slowlyunbuttonhisshirt.“That’s pretty forward of

you,” he says, his grinblazing.“You’ll be way too hot in

it.I’mbeingthoughtful.”“YouthinkI’mhot,huh?”“Actually,yes.AndIwant

to see those arm muscleswhenyou’redancing.”He hands his shirt to the

coat check girl, who is alsoadmiringAiden inhis t-shirt.I putmyhandson topofhisshoulders, then slowly slidethem down his arms, feeling

every curve of muscle. Heputs his forehead againstmineandsays,“Boots,Ihopeyou’replanningtodothatallnight.”I turn away from him and

head toward the stairs to thedance floor. Looking backovermyshoulder,Ismirkandsay,“Comefindout.”He catches up to me

quicklyandpullsmeontothedance floor, where he wrapshisarmaroundmywaistand

moveshislegbetweenmine.I can already tell that this

long gown is not going towork well for seriousdancing. But it does have alongslitupthefront.MaybeIcould...I speak loudly over the

music.“Letmefixmydress.”“Yourdress isperfect,”he

yells back. “You lookgorgeous.”“Well, now I wanna look

hot. So back off for a

second.”He smiles atme,holdshis

hands up, and backs away.Justalittle.I reach down, grab each

side of the hem, slowlyscrunch the layers up, andthen tie it into place at midthigh.I raise my eyebrows at

Aiden to seewhat he thinks.Hegrabsmyassandpullsmecloser. “Missionaccomplished.”

Wedanceforever.Sometimes fast, laughing,

and making a spectacle ofourselves. Other times, slowand mellow. Always, his legis between mine, radiatingenergyupmythighs.Just his hands all overme

andhislegbetweenmineturnme on in ways no one elsehas.Whatisitaboutthisboy?Why does he feel like myother half? How does heanticipatemymovesbefore I

knowthemmyself?The music is blaring. The

crowd is hot and sweaty.Aiden pulls me closer andsways slowly with me. Andhis delicious lips find myneck.I hold my arms up in the

air and sway to the musicwhilehebitesme.Teeny little adorably hot

bites.Somehow in between the

bites,Ifeelhistongueonmy

neck too. I’m not even sure.I’m pretty sure he is avampire.Butaspecialone.One that doesn’t suck my

bloodwitheachbite.Onethatinjects love potion or somesortofecstasy typedrug intomyskin.Apparently this is like the

dateintheplay.Theamazing,never-endingdate.After the club, we go out

forbreakfastatatotaldive.Ifindoutthatheloveschickenandwaffles,somethingIhavenever considered pairingtogether, and is a Southernthing.And,Ihavetoadmit,damn

good.It’s nearly four in the

morning by the time we getbacktomyloft.“Bathorhot tub?”heasks

me.My mind races. Trying to

script out scenarios. But it’sonoverloadandallthatIcanprocess is bathtub = naked.Hottub=swimsuits.“Bathtub?”“Thatsoundsnice.All that

dancing, it will be nice foryoutorelax.”“Me torelax?Asinyou’re

notjoiningme?”He kisses the tip of my

nose.“Whydidyouchooseabath? Because you werehopingfornakedness?”

“Oh,uh,no.Ofcoursenot.I just, thought, I mean, wetalked about a bath. I havebubbles.”Ohmigawd. Am I ten? I

havebubbles?Hegivesmeasexygrin.“I

like bubbles. Should wefinishthechampagneintheretoo?”“Uh,yeah.Um,youdothat

andI’ll,um,beinmycloset.”I walk in my closet and

jump up and down. I was

starting to get tired, but nowmy body is racing withenergyandadrenaline.Iwantto run through the housesinging,I’mgoingtohavesexwiththehottiegod.I’mgoingto have sex . . . Shit. I’mgoing to have sexwith him?DoIwantto?I hear him walk back into

the bathroom. I peek out thecloset door and see that hehas the bottle of champagnein an ice bucket and two

flutes. He sets it all on thefloornexttotubandstartsthewater.Thenhestartsopeningcabinets. He pokes around,pulls out two fluffy whitetowelsandabottleofbubblebath,anddumpsabunchin.He’s also wearing a

swimsuit.Iquicklypulloffmydress,

hang it up, slip on mycashmere robe, and saunterout.He immediately pulls me

intohis arms,kissesme, andslides his hand inside myrobe.Straight on top of my

nakedboob.“Oh!” he says, quickly

pulling his hand out fromundermy robe, likemy skinjustburnedit.“Ididn’tknow...”“It’s okay. I wasn’t sure

whattheplanwas.”“The plan? Tonight is

aboutnotmakingplans.”

“Uh, okay. I’ll, uh, go putona,uh,swimsuit.”I run back into my closet,

throw on a bikini, and hurrybacktothebathtubbeforehechangeshismind.“Why don’t you get in

first?” I tell Aiden. While Iwaschanging,hedraggedmybedside table into thebathroom and has thechampagne within easyreach.“This is hot,” he says,

slowly lowering his sexybodyintomytub.I’mnotsurehowtogetin.

I want to sit on top of him.Straddlehim.Makehimwantme.Butheturnsmearoundand

says,“Leanbackandrelax.”Notonlydowefittogether

whenwe’re dancing, butmybacknestlesperfectlyintohischest.“I'mnevertakingabathby

myselfagain.”

“Why'sthat?”“Because your chest is

warm and soft. The back ofthetubiscoldandhard.”He cups a handful of

bubbles and places then onmychest,makingwhat lookslikeahugetoweringpenis.“IsthatwhatIthinkitis?”“If you think I'm trying to

create the Empire StateBuilding out of bubbles,you'dberight.”“Oh,”Igiggle.

He kisses my neck. “Youhaveadirtymind.”“Maybe,” I laugh. “Can I

rub it? Will bubbles comeout?’“You’re bad,” he says,

kissingmy neck somemore.“It'scute.”“Itis?”“Yes,” he replies, handing

meaflute.“Are we still drinking to

rainydays?”“Hmm, no. Now, we’re

drinkingtoice.”Heclinksmyglassandwe

bothsipchampagne.“Ice?”Iask.He reaches his arm out of

thetub,settingdownhisglassand grabbing a piece of ice.Heshowsmetheiceandthenpopsitinhismouth.Iassumehe eats it, but instead I feelthe ice between his lips,gliding purposefully downmy neck. The ice meltsquickly—probably because

mybodyisonfreakingfire—sohereplacesitwithanotherpiece.This piece stays in hishand as he runs the point oftheicelikehedidthefeather.Slowly— excruciatinglyslowly—down into mycleavage. Then across mystomach.Itakemylegsoutofthe water, bending them atthekneeandbracingthemonthesideofthetub.And praying the piece of

icewill find its way down a

littlefurther.“I’ve died and gone to

hottieheaven,”Iwhisper.“Whatkindofheaven?”“Oh, uh, I don't know,” I

say, pressing my back intohim and shamelessly raisingmy hips toward the ice.Toward his big fingers. I letoutalittlemoanandarchmybackashislipsfindmine.I roll myself over and lie

on top of him.Which is notverycomfortable,soIquickly

situpandstraddlehim.Icanfeelthathe'shard.AndI'm... I'd say I'm practically dryhumping him, except we'rewet. I'm wet humping him.Rubbing myself against him.Totally worked up. I reachdown to untie his shorts. Ihavetohavethemoff.“Boots,” he says. “We

can’t.”“Yes, we can,” I say,

grabbing the string again. “Ihavecondomsifyoudon’t.”

He grips my hand tightly.“MaybeIgaveyouthewrongidea. We're not having sexthis weekend. Remember,you said that you wanted towait.”“That was before you

rubbedicedownmylegs.”Iplacemylipshardonhis,

giving him a fiery kiss.Grabbing his tongue withmine. Sucking on it. Rakingmyhandsroughlythroughhishair.Androckingmyhips.

Hegrabsmyhips,stoppingtheir motion. “Okay. Bathtimeisover.”I immediatelybite theside

ofmylip.Tryingnottomakeanobviouspout.He kisses my lower lip,

thenmyforehead.“Haveyouhadafunnight?”“Yes.”“Isn'tthatwhatmatters?”“Yeah, it's just I wanna

skiptothegoodpart.”He looks me in the eyes,

speakingdirectly tomy soul.“This is the good part,Boots.”Heedgeshimselfoutofthetub.“I’mgonnahopinthe shower and rinse off allthesebubbles.”“I’llstayhereandpout.”Hesmirksatmeandhands

methebottleofchampagne.I’m ready to take a big

swig, but then I realize thathe'sinmyshower.Thatwateris running all over thatheavenlybodyofhis.

SoIwatch.Watchandchug.Chugandwatch.Imaginemyfingersarethe

water.Aidengetsoutandwrapsa

towelaroundhisswimsuit.I’m not sure if he thought

getting out of the tub andshowering would help mecool off. Quench the flamesofdesire.Um,no.He’s wet. Glistening.

Waterdroplets runningdownhischest.I take another chug of

champagne as he slides hisshorts off and lays them onthecountertodry.“You're naked in my

towel,”Iblurtout.He grins atme, glances at

his phone, and says, “Wannagowatchthesunrise?”Sunrises have always been

B's andmy thing. I suddenlyfeelguilty.GuiltyItoldBI'd

give him another chance.Guilty I'm here with Aiden.GuiltythatI’maliar.“I’m really tired. Aren't

you?”“I could probably sleep.”

Hekissesme full on the lipsandsays,“Goodnightthen.”“Aiden,wait.”Imaybefeelingguilty,but

theguilt comeswrapped inaloneliness that is almostunbearable.Especially after the trip to

Vancouver when I realizedthat Mom hasn’t called meeven once. And now Iunderstandwhy.I’vebecomethethreattoo.And while Vincent is still

out there, I can’t see themagain.Aidengrabstheedgeofmy

doorway and turns around.Damp and still wrapped innothing but a fluffy whitetowel.“I,uh,haveabigbed.”

He laughs. “There's a bigbedinmyroomtoo.”“Idon't . . . I’mfine ifwe

don't, but I . . .”Whycan't Ispeakacoherentsentence?“Doyouwantme to sleep

inhere,withyou?”I shutmymouth and nod,

thankful for once that hecouldreadmymind.“I’ll go grab some dry

shorts.”Iruninmycloset,stripoff

my wet bikini, and put on

some sleep shorts and acashmere pullover. I stop fora second and look in themirror.Ohmigawd.Nowonder he

didn't want to have sex withme. I look like the zombieapocalypse. How did mymascaraendupallundermyeyes?Iquicklyputsomeoilona

cotton ball to rub it off.Andmy hair is amess.Halfwet,halfup,halfdown.

I pull the pins out of it.Attempt tobrush through thewetmess,giveup, twirlingitbackintoanotherbun.ThenIbrushmyteeth.Iamsonothavingsexwith

Aidentonight.Notevenifhewants. I have to lookbeautiful and glamorous anddrapedinsilkwhenwedoit.My mind flits back to beingkissedonhisdesk.Orthatwouldwork.Irubsomerosescentedlip

balmacrossmylipsandopenthedoor.Aidenislyingonmybed.I

was wrong when I said itlooked like my loft wasdesignedforhim.My bed was designed for

him.He's shirtless, wearing

white athletic shorts, and hishairlookslikehedrieditwitha towel and didn't give it asecondthought.Iboundonto thebed,grab

a pillow, and smack himupsidethehead.“Oh, really?” he says,

holdingontomypillowashegrabsanotheroneandhitsmewithit.I'mlaughingasIrolloutof

hisgripandswingthepillowat him again. He ducks hishead so it bounces off hisshoulder as he grabs thepillow out of my hand andtosses itoff thebed.Thenhegrabs my waist and flips me

over so he’s lying on top ofme. I reach out to tickle hissides,buthegrabsbotharmsand holds them down abovemyhead.“Damn,” I say with a

smirk. “Now, I'm trapped.WhateverwillIdo?”“Ithoughtyouweretired.”“I was. I am. You look

goodinmybed.”He lowers his lips to my

neck and says, “You lookgood pinned underneath me.

I'm gonna let you up now.Behave.”I nod, agreeing, but the

second Iget loose, I leapoffthe bed, grab my pillow offthefloor,swingitathim,andthen go running out of theroom. I'm making a run fortheloftwhenapillowsmacksmy back. I turn around andswingthepillowwildly.Sadly, I don't connect as

many times as he does, so Ithrowmy pillow at his face,

tear up the stairs, and diveontomybigsectionalcouch.Aiden has both pillows in

hishandswhenhegetstothetopofthestairs.“Giveup?”“Actually, yeah. I think

that was my last burst ofenergy.”Heputsbothpillowsonthe

couch, scoops me up, thenlies down with me in hisarms. I snugglemy face intohis chest, breathe in theheavenly scent that isAiden,

andclosemyeyes.

Saturday,November12th

Takemeshopping.

9am

I open one eye, wonderingwhere I am. There's a heavyarmdrapedovermyshoulder.Aiden is asleep, so I take amoment to study his perfectface.Thesexystubbleonhisstrong jaw. His perfect nose.Thepalepinkofhisbeautifullips. And that freakingmouth.Iclosemyeyesanddream

aboutthatmouth.I wake up later to Aiden

gently caressing my face. Ipretend to be asleep a littlewhile longer because it feelssogood. I’mstillwrapped inhis arms and the side of myfaceisplasteredtohischest.“Hey, sleepyhead,” he

says,kissingmyshoulder.“That is the bestway ever

tobewokenup.Ifeellikeanattentionwhore.”“Why'sthat?”“You'realwaystakingcare

ofme.Doingstuffforme.”

“Ihavesomethingyoucandoformetoday.”“What?”“Take me shopping. I’ve

grown out of pretty mucheverythingfromlastyear.Mymom went with me beforeschool started and I got acouplesuitsanduniforms,butthat’saboutit.”“I can help you with that.

We’ll go everywhere.Rag&Bone,Neiman,Saks,Bendel,Vuitton, Lauren, Burberry,

andBarneys.”“Perfect. I’ll get us a car

fortheday.”By late afternoon he says,

“You'rea little toogoodofashopper.I'mtired,broke,andstarving.”“We better feed you, then,

andIknowjusttheplace.”ItakehimtoSerendipity3,

mostly because of theirdesserts. And I’m feelingdecadent.

“Now I need a nap,” hesays, patting his tightstomach. Figures.He can eatthe fried chicken dinner, thechocolate blackout cake,three-fourths of my sundaeand still look hot. I had agrilled chicken sandwich,some fruit, a fourth of thesundae, and I’m totallybloated.Isuckmystomachinand suggest a carriage ridethroughCentralPark.I’m pretty sure that Aiden

didn’t see much of CentralPark.I’mnotevensurewherewewere.I justknowhekeptkissingme.When the carriage comes

to a halt back where westarted and we get into ourtowncar,Isay,“YouwanttosmokeacigaretteonthestepsoftheMet,liketheydointheGossipGirlbooks?”He looks at me kinda

funny.“Idon’tsmoke.”“Idon’teither,butIwould.

Likethere.JusttosayIdid.”“I was thinking that you

didn’tgettodoanyshopping.Ifthere’sonestoreyoucouldgo back to, where would itbe?”“Barneys.”“Shoesorbags?”“Well,handbagsareonthe

first floor.Maybewe shouldstart there andworkourwayup?”He holds my hand as I

stand in front of what is mypurse Mecca. A rainbow ofProenzaSchoulerhandbagsinbeautifulcolors.“You have a lot of these

bags,don'tyou?”“Yeah,I'mkindaobsessed.

I love all the colors. Theirclassicstyle.”“Youdon'thavethatpurple

one,doyou?”“No, not yet. But let’s go

upstairs and check out theclothes.”

“Whataboutshoes?”“Um, I have enough

shoes,” I say,withvery littleconviction.Aiden looks at me funny.

Obviously, he knows I loveshoes.“Okay,well,clothes itis,then.”Wego upstairs and I have

fun trying on clothes forAiden. And it works outreally well because I barelyleave the dressing room. Hekeepsbringingmemoretotry

on.Maybe I could send himdownforshoes.“Ifoundthreemoredresses

for you to try on,” he saysfromoutsidethedoor.I open the door and show

himthecutedressIjusttriedon. The dress that isscreaming and throwing atempertantrumatmefornewbootstogowithit.“That’s cute,” he says.

“What do you think ofthese?” He holds up three

gorgeousgowns.“Iguess I doneedanother

rainydaydress,”Itease.“ThatoradressforWinter

Formal.”“Ilikegettingdressedup,”

I say, grabbing the gowns totryon.He shakes his head and

grins at me. “While you dothat, I’m gonna run down tothemen’sdepartmentandgetthatwalletIsawearlier.”“Okay,”Isayhappily.

When he comes back up,I’m dressed and paying. Hegrabsallmybagsandcarriesthemforme.“So what do you want to

do next?” he asks, as weslidesintothecar.“I’d love to go home.

Relax. Maybe have a moviemarathon? Or watch somefootball?”He kisses me in response

and then tells the driver totakeusbackhome.

I take my bags into my

closetanddecidewhatIwantto take to school and what Iwant to leave here. Then Ithrow on a comfy pair ofstretchyFreePeople tie-dyedjeans, an oversized creamsweater, and some creamcabledmuleslippers.IfindAideninmykitchen

making snacks. His phone isonthecounterquietlyplayingsomething jazzy and soulful.

He looks so at home in mykitchen. So at homeeverywhereIam.ThenInoticeabigBarneys

box lying on the island.“What’sthat?”Iask,pointingtoit.“That’sforyou.”“Really?”“Yeah,openit.”I slowly untie the ribbon,

liftoffthelid,andslideopenthe tissue. “Ohmigawd,Aiden!Ifuckingloveyou!”I

scream,pullingoutthepurplehandbag—that I wanted butdidn’tbuy—andhuggingit.Hiseyesgetbig.“Oh, I mean, I, like, love

that you got it forme. Iwastryingtobegood.”“You bought two gowns,

six bags of clothes, and thefour pairs of shoes theybrought up to the dressingroomforyou.”“I know. That's why I

didn't get the purse. I was

tryingtobeinggood.”Helaughsatme,butasI’m

clutching thepurse, I realize,“Look! It even matches myoutfit.”“Do you need a matching

purse to watch moviesupstairs?”“Well,Ididn’tbefore,butI

do now.” I set the pursedown, walk into Aiden’sarms, and kiss him. “Thankyou. Really. It was sounnecessarybutsoincredibly

sweet.Andyousurprisedme.Ilovesurprises.”“Good,” he says, as he

spins me out of his arms,dancing with me. He spinsmetightlybackintohisarms,kissesthetipofmynose,andthenspinsmebackout.I’mnotsureifit’sthespins

or the kisses that aremakingmefeeldizzy.“I was thinking since we

hadabiglatelunchthatwe’djusthavesnacks.”

“That sounds good. WhatcanImake?”He picks me up and sets

meonthekitchenisland.“Youwatch. I'll cook,” he

says as he puts a bag ofpopcorninthemicrowave.“I’m not sure I’d call

throwingabagofpopcorninthe microwave cooking,” Itease.“Imakeitspecial.”You make everything

special,Ithink.

He's in and out of thefridge gathering ingredients.Themicrowave dings and hedumpsthepopcorninabowlthenputsanotherbagin.Thenhestopsandlooksat

me.I smile at him. It sounds

lametosayIsmileathimbutIdo.Helookssodamnsexy.Hissomethingcomfortable isa tight white tank top and athick pair of navyAbercrombie sweatpants that

arejustalittletooshorteventhough they're riding low onhiships.He saunters over, wiping

his hand on a dishtowel, andkissesme.Andkissesme.Something starts to smell

funny. My brain is a littlefuzzy,butAidenstopskissingme, and runs over to themicrowave.“Shit.Youmademeforget

about the popcorn,” he says,

laughing as he grabs a blacksmoking bag out of themicrowave and carries it outto the deck. “Burnt popcornsmells so bad.” He putsanotherbag inand thenpullsme back into his arms for afewmorekisses.The microwave dings. He

doctors up the popcorn, thenhands me a tray full of junkfood.I jumpoff the counter and

carryitupstairs.

We get our trays situatedon the coffee table, snuggleon the couch, and start thefirstmovie.He holds a piece of

popcornuptomymouth,soIopenmymouthandtasteit.“Oh,that'sgood.What'son

it?”“Butter, of course, with

some seasoning salt,Worcestershire sauce, and alittleParmesancheese.”“And don't forget the

pretzels.” I take a sip of dietCoke to cleanse my pallet.“What'stheotherkind?”“Taste.”“Oh, that's good too.

Spicy.”“Hot wing sauce, butter,

andalittlecayennepepper.”“They're both really good,

Aiden. How'd you learn tomakethem?”“Whenmymomwasgoing

throughchemo,shewastireda lot, so wewatchedmovies

together. And popcorn wasone food that usually didn'tmakeherfeelsick.”I get tears in my eyes. I

don't know why. But Aidenjusttouchesme.I nuzzle my face into his

chest and try to focus on themovie.But it doesn’t work

because Aiden keeps kissingme.And after careful

observation, I’m now one

hundred percent certain thathis tongue is lacedwith lovepotion.That’s why he was saving

it. He has to be careful whoheusesiton.My phone rings on the

coffee table, breaking thespell a little. Aiden doesn’tstop kissing me. He justopens one eye, grabs myphone, and says, “It wasMaggie. She’s called three

times. You better call herback.”Webothsitup.I takemyphone fromhim

andcallherasheheadsdownthestairs.“Keatyn,thankgoodness.I

needtotalktoyou!”“What’swrong?” I ask, as

Ifollowhimtothekitchen.“I can’t make a decision.

I’m thinking I might sleepwithLogantonight.”“Ifyou think it’s right.Do

youthinkit’sright?”IlookatAiden.Wondering

ifIcouldeverforgetthewayhe looks standing in mykitchen.“It seems too soon,” she

says.“Whichmakesnosensebecause we’ve already doneit.”“If you think you should

wait, thenwait,” I suggest. Ihit the mute button on myphone andwhisper toAiden.“I’m gonna change real

quick.Thisoutfitistoohot.”He nods as Maggie says

into my ear, “You’reprobably right. Are you andAidenhavingfun?”“Yeah,we’rehavingfun.”“At least someone is,” she

says.I start to sayNot that kind

offun,butshe’salreadyhungup.I strip my clothes off and

throw on my short cashmererobe. It’s snuggly, but much

cooler than the outfit I hadon.Aidenradiatesheatoffhisbody and the robe has theaddedbonus that itwouldbesupereasyforhimtoslidehishandsunder.When I walk back in the

kitchen, Aiden goes, “WasMaggie talkingaboutLogan?If so, I think you gave hersomegoodadvice.”“Logan is her root. She

needstogiveitsometime.”“Whatdoyoumean?”

“Hewasherfirstlove.Sheneeds to figure out if shereallyloveshimorifhe’sjustherfirstlove.”“Logan has no idea what

he’s up against,” Aiden sayswithalaugh.Islidemybodyupnext to

him and coo sexily, “Rightnow,you’reupagainstme.”“And just getting here has

takenalotofpatience.”“You don’t need to be

patientanymore.”

“Actually,” he sighs, “Ineedtobeverypatient.”“Why?Why can’t we just

havesomefun?”“Because us, this, is not

aboutfun.”“It’snot?”“No,it’sserious.”I decide he’s being a little

tooserious.SoImoveoutofhisembraceandpouruseachofshotofPatronSilver.“Here’stonothavingfun,”

I say sarcastically, as I raise

myshotglassintheair.He sets my full shot glass

down, along with his, picksmeup, andcarriesme tomybed.He lays me down, then

pushes his hand into hispocket.Ohmigawd. Is he getting

outacondom?Please.Please.Letitbe.Imakeitintoalittlesong.

Letitbe,letitbe,letitbe,let it be, little shiny foilwrapper,letitbe.Oh.Let.It.Be.Instead, he pulls out two

featherearrings.He runs the feather across

my lips and then squiggles itdownmyneck.“Aiden,wait.”“Why?”“It’s my turn.” I grab the

hemofhisshirtandpullitupoverhishead.

Ihavetoadmit,Itakegreat

pleasure in teasing him withthefeather.He’slyingonhisbackand

I’m sitting on top of him.Straddlinghiswaist.I rub the feather lightlyall

over his chest.His neck.Hisperfectlyshapedarms.Acrosshis abs. In a little ticklemotion up his sides. Acrosshisneck.Hisface.And.I’m.Dying.

Seriously.I’msofreakingturnedonI

canbarelystandit.Grandpa and I had an

interesting discussion thispast summer about spurs.About whether or not theyhurt the horse. Grandpa saysthere’s nothing wrong withspurringahorseon.I think maybe that’s just

what’scalledforhere.I glide the feather across

thewaistlineofhispants.

He closes his eyes for aminute and I realize this ismychance.IkeepmovingthefeatheracrosshisskinwhileIslideoutofmyrobe.Sonow,I’m sitting on him, nakedexcept for a pair of lavenderboyshorts.I continue to run the

feather across him, but I’mdying for him to open hiseyes.I’mafraidforaminutethat

hehasfallenasleep.

Butthenheopenshiseyes.There’s enough light that Icanseethesurpriseinthem.Hesucksinairlikehejust

ran a set of sprints, thenbreathesdeeply.I bite my lip. All of a

sudden,I’mnervous.He shuts his eyes tightly.

“Putthatbackon.”What?! What the fuck? Is

heserious?I don’t say anything. I

don’tevenmove.

“Itdoesn’t feel likeyou’reputtingiton,”hesays.Ifindmyvoice.“I’mnot.I

like it off. I thought youwouldlikeitoff.”“Pleaseputitbackon.”It’s very hard to have a

conversation with someonewhen their eyes are closed. Ican’tusemypuppydogeyesormypout.“No.”“If you don’t put it back

on,I’mleaving.”“Whydoyouhavetobeso

freaking stubborn? And whydoes it always have to bewhatyouwant?”“I’mgoing to askyouone

moretime.Please.”“Oh, and then what? You

gonnacounttothreeandgiveme a time out? Open youreyes.”He keeps his eyes shut,

moves me off him, gets up,andwalksoutthedoor.Isuddenlyfeelverynaked.

I sithere,not surewhat todo.I’m so disappointed. This

hasbeentheperfectweekend.Thenhehadtoruinit.Why

does it always have to getruined?I’msotiredof this.I’mso

tiredofbeingtoldno.Maybe I should be done

withhim.I’ll call Dawson. Tell him

that I’llgooutwithhim.Lethim be his sweet, adorable,

andcompliantself.Henever,evertellsmeno.Andhewentto Columbia again thisweekend. He would comeoverandbegladtoappreciatemynakedness.Ipullmyrobeon,hopout

ofbed,andwalkpurposefullytothekitchen.I spy my purse sitting on

thetable.Aiden is standing in the

kitchen watching me, but Iignorehim.

Isitonthebenchandscrollthroughmyphone.“What are you doing?’

Aidenasks.“CallingDawson.”Aidenripsthephoneoutof

my hand. “I’m not going toletyoudothat.”“Youdon’thaveanysayin

whatIdo,Aiden.”“Why are you so

stubborn?”“I’mstubborn?”I walk to the living room,

raise my eyebrows at him,and pick up the landlinephone.Aiden marches over and

pressesthereceiverdown.“Stop it! Give me my

phoneback.”“No.”“Now.”“No.”“I’ll just go use another

phone,” I say, heading backtowardthekitchen.Aiden comes up from

behind me, grabs me, andmarches me back into thebedroom.“You donewith your little

tantrumyet?”Oh, my. He has no idea.

Thatwasnotantrum.But he’s about to see a

tantrum of epic proportionsbecauseI’mcomingunglued,unhinged, and off myfreaking rocker. I have beenpushed to the point of noreturn.

“Give.Me.My.Phone.”“No.” He sets my phone

down on the dresser, grabsme around the waist, andpulls me in close to him.“Youtoldmethatyouwantedto work on our foundation,ourframework.”Iglareathim.“Noamount

of framework could keep usfromcrumbling.”Herunshishandacrossmy

shoulder.It instantly calms me.

WhichIcompletelyhate.“Don’t touch me.” I back

away, sitting on the bed. Ineedtostaymadathim.Hesitsdownnexttome.I immediately stand back

upandwalkintothekitchen.Noway am I going to sit onthesamebedwithhim.“Do you really think that

was a rejection?” he asks,followingmewithmyphone.“Yes.”Hegrabsmeandpullsmy

hips tightly into his. “Doesthisfeellikearejection?”“Allwedoisfight.”“We’renotfighting.”“Um,yesweare.Andnow

we’re fighting over whetheror not we’re fighting. It’spathetic.”“I want the same things

you want. We’re going totakeitslow.”“I changed my mind. I

don’t want to take it slow.And I don’t getwhat thebig

deal was. It’s not like I wasnaked.”“Keatyn,” he says firmly.

“All you had on was a tinypairofunderwear.”“I’m done arguing with

you. Give me my phone. Idon’tevenhavetoflipacointo figure it out. Iwant aguywhowantsme.”“You were going to flip a

cointodecidebetweenus?”“Ididflipacoin,actually.”“And that’s exactly why I

toldyoutogetdressed.”“Thatmakesnosense.”“Sitdownandlistentome,

please.”Irollmyeyesandcomply.

WhydoIcomply?Whydon’tI run naked straight toColumbia?“Whenyoudecidethatyou

wantme and onlyme, that’swhen I’ll let you keep yourclothes off.Until then,we’regoing slow. I have neverturneddownagirlbefore.”

“Oh.Wow.Thatmakesmefeelsomuchbetter.”He cradles my face in his

hand. “Boots, I promise you.I want you. It took everysingle ounce of myconvictiontodothat.Towalkout of the room. Thefoundationwasyouridea.”“Can’t there be some

boobs in our foundation?We’re talking middle schoolstuffhere,Aiden.”Heshutshiseyestightly.“I

feel like I’mon that survivorshow. Survive this and youcanwinthebigprize.”“Your dick is the big

prize?”“I’m not talking aboutmy

dick.Youknowwhat? If sexis all you want then, here,here’sthephone.Callhim.”I stare at the phone inmy

hand. “I asked my grandpafor advice on choosingbetweenyou andDawson,” Isaysoftly.“He’stheonewho

toldmetoflipacoin.”“I’d think you’d want to

decidewithyourheart,notbychance.”“That’swhat Isaid. Isaid,

What if I don’t get what Iwant? And he said, Exactly.That when the coin is in theair, you’ll know what youwant.”“So what happened when

thecoinwasintheair?”“Iknewbefore I flipped it

that I wanted it to land on

you.”“Didit?”“No. Dawson won three

outoffour.”“Sowhyisn’theherewith

younow?”“Because.”Aiden stares at me,

searching my eyes foranswers. “Do you still wantyourphoneback?”Iholdhisgaze.“No.”Aidenpicksmeupquickly,

pushes me onto the kitchen

counter,andkissesme.Hard.Fullofdesire.This isn't a sweet chaste

kiss.No.This is a tongue, andheat,

and laying-me-across-the-counterkiss.I remembera scene inone

of my favorite books, ThatWedding. When Phillipcomes home to find Jadynmakingcupcakesandtheyget

inafrostingfightanddoitonthekitchencounter.Isowantmyownscenelikethat.Aiden moves his mouth

away from mine, leans backslightly,ripsopenthefrontofmy robe, shoves it off myshoulders, and stares at mynakedchest.Asinglefingertouchesme.

Traces the curve of mybreast. Circles my nipple.Grazingacrossthetopofit.He glances at me briefly,

the hunger in his eyesreturning. Then he attacks.Hecoversonebreastwithhisbig hand, massaging it, andrubbinghis thumbacrossmynipple. The other breast hetakesinhismouth.Suckingitin forcefully. Teasing it withhistongue.Lickingarounditsedges.I feel like I’m lost

somewhere between heavenandtheunderworld.AllIcandoisbreathe.

Untilhetakesmynippleinhisteeth.I gasp and holdmybreath

as he pulls it taut beforeletting it go. Giving me ateenysecondofpainandthenpurepleasure.“Doesthatfeellikemiddle

school?” he says raggedlyintomychest.“Notatall.”Hegrinsatmychest,trails

his tongue slowly from oneboob to the other, and then

takesitinhismouth.A little moan escapes my

lips.Whichseems tocausehim

to react. He sucks harder,massagesharder,teasesmore,andhiships...Oh.My.God.My legs are spread apart.

Hishipsare rockingbetweenthem.Like we’re having hot sex

onmykitchencounter.I can feel his hardness

pressingagainstme.Ipushmyhandsjustbelow

thewaistlineofhispants.He removes his lips from

mychestandmutters,“Don’t.Unless you want me to stopwhatI'mdoing.”I quickly move my hands

tohisback.Idon’twanthimtostop.But I’m seriouslygoing to

havetowringmypantiesoutafterthis.

Sunday,November13th

NotPG.4pm

We’re almost back to schoolwhen I notice the feathers

attachedtoAiden’sbackpack.“Inevergottofinishwiththefeathers.”His eyebrows raise in

amusement.“Oh,really,whatelsewereyouplanning?”“I don’t know. Just, you

know, rubbing them aroundsome.”“Rubbing them around or

glidingthemacrossmynakedskin?”“Uh,theglidingone”Isay,

swallowing hard, as my

cheeksflush.“Sounds like we have a

datefornextweekend.”When we get back to my

dorm, he gives me a sweetkiss.“I loved our rainy day

weekend,”Itellhim.“Me too. I have to get to

the playoff meeting,otherwise I’d stay here andkissyouallnight.”Hegivesmeonemorekiss

and then heads down to thefieldhouse.I take my bags into my

roomandputmystuffaway.Just as I finish, Maggie,Annie, Peyton, and Katieboundthroughthedoor.“Sowhathappened?”Katie

asks.“Didyousleepwithhim?”

Maggiesaysatthesametime.“No,Ididn’t.”Maggiescrewsupherface.

“Really?”

“Really. We're takingthings slow. Really, super,excruciatinglyslow.”“So it wasn't that fun?”

Anniequestions.“What? No. It was the

most amazing weekend.” ItellthemhowwegotdressedupandwenttothetopoftheEmpire State Building. I tellthem all things we did andsaw,butIkeepthegoodpartsto myself. I don't want tosharethemwithanyone.They

feel like they should besavored. “So what happenedhere?”“Whitney and I took

Cooper Steele to dinner,”Peyton says, her eyebrowraised,suggestingitwasmorethandinner.“Seriously?”“Yeah. It was fun. The

asshole is so charming, I’dshare him if I had to. Hell,Whitney even suggestedsharing—in a not so subtle

way—but he acted like hedidn'tget it.Doyou thinkhecouldbegay?”“No,Ithinkhe'ssmart.He

doesn't want to lose his jobover a student when the guycould clearly get anywomanhewanted.”“Goodpoint,”Peytonsays.

“I’m gonna have to tryharder.Ormaybeplayhardtoget.”“Orgiveup.”“No, not just yet.And it’s

not like I care about him. Ijust don’t want Whitney togethim.”“So what about you,

Maggie? Did you decide towaitwithLogan?”“We didn't have sex, but

we did everything else. LikeyouandAiden.”“You trying to trick me

into admitting something?” Ilaugh. “It won’t work.Besides, there’s nothing totell.I’mtalkingsecondbase.”

Iwasgoingtoaddthatitwasall very PG, but then Irememberthedeepkissintheelevator, the ice the bathtub,the naked boobs on thekitchen counter.Wemaynothave gone very far, butwhatwe did felt so sexual, and sonotPG.

Tuesday,November15thStolenkisses.

11:45pm Today was a blur. A happyblur. Of holding hands. Of

sweet texts. Of stolen kissesbetween classes. Ofwhispering to each other atlunch. Of French wordsspokeninmyear.Ofthepeprally. Of wishing him luck.Ofwinningtheplayoffgame.Of sitting on the bus with

himonthewayhome.We’re holding hands.

Lazilyrubbingthemtogether.Sometimes his fingers arelaced between mine.Sometimes clasped together.

Sometimes just our pinkiestouch.Sometimesherunshisfingertip across my palm. Iwatchourhandsinadaze.It’s like our hands are

dancing.I feel like I could sit for

hoursanddonothingbutholdhis hand in hundreds ofdifferentways.He stops every once in a

while to bring my fingers tohislips.Istopeveryonceinawhile

tokisshislips.Andthenwe’rebackhome,

and it’s another amazinggoodnightkiss.

Wednesday,November16thSleepswithJamesBond.

11am

Today is college and careerday. The gym is set up withtables representing amultitudeofcollegeoptions.Idressed in a really cuteuniform look for theoccasion.But first, I have an

appointment with myacademic advisor, who isgoing to give me the resultsof the career survey I tookearlierthisweek.“These surveys always

make me laugh at the jobsthey come back with,” MissPralinesays.“IjustwentoverJamesBarnsworth the sixth’s—you know, of the railroadbaron Barnsworths?—and itsuggestedajobasasanitationworker.Canyouimagine?”Ilaugh.“Maybehedoesn’t

want to join the familybusiness.”“Yours, however, are spot

on. Actress, Producer, CIAAgent, Foreign Service

Officer.” She hands me myresults. “What do you thinkyouwanttodo?”I can’t say actress, for

obviousreasons,soIgowithone that actually soundspretty cool. When I’m notreading romances, I read spynovels. I can totally picturemyself as a badass spy. Aclassy one, though. Like thekindwhogetsdressedupinadesignergown,goes to fancyparties, carries a little gun in

her garter, and sleeps withJamesBond.“I’ve always thought I

wantedtobeadoctor,buttheCIA agent intrigues me.Really, it’s kinda brilliant. Ihavedecentactingskills.I’mgood with languages. And Ilove to travel.What would Ihavetodotobecomeone?”Miss Praline types a few

things on her computer andprints out a sheet. “Here aresome things you can do to

prepare. Let’s see. Do abackground check onyourself.Makesureyour lifestayssqueakyclean.Don’tdodrugs within twelve monthsof applying. Learn foreignlanguages.”Shestopstolookat me. “Do you speakanythingotherthanFrench?”“Yeah, I’m not as fluent

butIcanspeakprettywellinItalian,Spanish,andGerman.I know some Swiss andJapanesetoo.”

She tilts her head at me.“Really?”Inod.“Yeah,wetraveleda

lotwhenIwasakid,soIjustsort of picked it up. Everysummer I listen to audiobooks in other languages. Ithelpsmeremember.”“Italsosaysyoushouldget

good grades, major insomething International, bephysically and mentally fit,andwillingtotravel.”“Sweet.”

“Okay,sonowyoucangotalk to the colleges. Maybecheck out their InternationalStudiesprograms.”“That sounds good.

Thanks,MissPraline.” Istopand turn around. “Hey, didmyuncleevercallyou?”She blushes and fidgets

with her necklace. “Um, oh,he did. He travels a lot. Asyouwellknow.Butwedidgotodinner recently.Hewas intown for work. It was the

same day your soccer coachleft. I remember I almostcancelled on him because ofthe impromptu going awaypartywehadforher.”“Wasitagooddate?”“Well, yes. He’s very

handsome and well-mannered.”“Any plans for a future

date?”“We’ve talked about it.

He’s always rushing off tosomewhere for his job.” She

lowers her voice. “Do youknowwhathedoes?”“Foraliving?”“Yeah, it’s interesting that

you want to work for theCIA. I’m pretty sure yourunclecouldhelpgetyouajobthere.”“Whydoyouthinkthat?”“Because I think that’s

whathedoes.”“Interesting,”Isay,quickly

standing up before she canaskanymorequestions.

I try to imaginemy futurelifewithout acting.Honestly,the CIA might not be a badidea. I could use it to figureout a way to get rid ofVincent. Or maybe I coulddye my hair like MomsuggestedanddoarealtyTVshowaboutbeingintheCIA.Oh. Yeah. Scratch that.

That might sorta defeat thewholeclandestinething.I talk to colleges about

their International Studies

programs. Because that doesactually interestme. I’d lovetodosemestersabroad.Jake and Dawson are in

front of the NYU tabletalking to the recruiters. “Wemissed the early decisionadmission,butwecanstilldotheregularone,right?”IhearJakeask.Dawson pulls me over.

“Youshouldapplyheretoo,”he says. “The three of uscould have fun. Parties at

your loft. Weekends in theHamptons.”“Studying during the

week,”therecruitersays.“Of course,” Dawson

replies.“You could study acting

withme,”Jakesays.“IthinkI’mgoingtomajor

inInternationalStudies.”Therecruiterasks,“Which

kind? We have GlobalLiberal Studies, anInternational Business

program,andanInternationalRelations program. As afreshman in the GlobalLiberalStudiesprogram,youcan choose to study in NewYork, or at NYUs inFlorence, London, Shanghai,orParis.”“Paris? Um, that one. The

Global Liberal Studies,please.”He hands me a packet of

information.“Youknow,”Dawsonsays,

“there are a lot of goodschools inthecity.Haveyouever thought of transferringthere for your senior year?Living full-time at your loft.Jake and I are gonna missyou.”“I never thought of it.

Honestly,Ireallyonlyneedafewmorecredits tograduate.I could do them in thesummer if I wanted to andskipmysenioryear.”“That’d be awesome!

Cometocollegewithus.”“I’llthinkaboutit.Areyou

twogoingthereforsure?”“Aslongastheyletusin.”“Have you talked to your

parentsyet,Jake?”“No, but they came to the

play. They thought I wasgood.”“Maybe itwon’tbesucha

shock,then?”“My two older brothers

both went into the familybusiness, so there’s really no

bigneedformeto.Otherthanmy dad wanting to controlus.”“What do you want to

majorin,Dawson?”“Business. I had never

heard of it before, but theNYU dude was telling meabout their MBA program.YoucanspecializeinLuxuryMarketing. That’s somethingyou’dbegoodat.Oneoftheirclasses is about doingbusinessinItaly.”

“Italianleather,”Imurmur.“Thatmightbea reallygooddegreeforme.”“I was thinking Italian

sports cars, but you getwhatI’msaying.”“How do people ever

decidewhattomajorin?”“Idon’tknow,”hesays.“I

think they guess.” He pullsme aside. “Seniors get theafternoon off. Wanna hangout?”“Ican’tskip,Dawson.”

“Youhavebefore.”“Iknow,but...”“You still don’t want to?

Comeon,Keatie.Wehaven’tdone it for seventeen daysand he still hasn’t asked youout.Youhaven’tdoneitwithhim,haveyou?”“No.”“Isn’tthatkillingyou?”Ilookdown.“Kinda.”“It’s not cheating if you

aren’tinarelationship.”“I know, Dawson. But I

justcan’t.”Anniecomesupanddrags

meaway.“Let’sgotocollegetogetherinParis.”“Thatwouldbecool.Iwas

just looking at someInternational Studiesprograms. It’d be cool tostudyabroad.”“It’smydream.”“HowdoesAcefitintothat

dream?”She sighs big and shakes

her head. “I have no idea.

And, even worse, I have noideahowI’mgoingtosurvivehim going to college nextyear.Thiscollegefairthingisreally depressing. Part ofmenever wants to leaveEastbrooke. Another part ofme can’t wait to start mylife.”“You’ve already started

yourlife,Annie.Butlifeisallaboutchange.Andsometimeschanges happen when youleastexpectthem.”

“Likeyours?”“Whatdoyoumean?”“Yourparentsmovingwas

a surprise, right? And youcameherekindalastminute.”“Yes, exactly. Sometimes

youdon’texpectit.”“Doyoulikeithere?Better

thanyouroldschool?”“It’s different thanmy old

school,”Isay.But, honestly, my old

school wasn’t all thatdifferent.

What’sdifferentisme.

Thursday,November17thStuffourselves.

SoccerAfter soccer, Peyton says,“Keatyn,comehere.”

I jog over to her. “What’sup?”“A couple things. I need

more details about the trip.Like what we’ll be doing.WhatkindofclothesIshouldbring.”“That’s easy. Some

swimsuits for the day. Acouple cover-ups. I usuallywear a dress for dinner. IthinkI toldyou there’sa fullstaff, so we eat well anddinner’skindofabigdeal.”

“Soalittlemoredressy?”“Yeah, I know it’s seems

silly with it being just thethree of us. We wouldn’thave to dress up, but’s justsortofa...”“Tradition?”“Yeah. And of course,

we’ll have a full-blownturkey dinner. Stuffourselves.”“Andthenwatchfootball?”“Yeah,there’sareallycool

bar area that overlooks the

oceanthathasTVsandstuff,sowecanenjoyboth.”“Thatsoundsawesome.So,

I have another question. Tellmewhat’sgoingonwithyouandCooper.”“There’s nothing going on

between me and CoachSteele.”“Just the fact that you

calledhimCoachSteele tellsmeyou’rehidingsomething.”“I’mnothidinganything.”“Look.Iknowyou’vebeen

going to meet him aftercurfew.Iknowthatyouwereboth gone on the same daysand suspiciously left and gotback at the same time. Areyou having an affair withhim?”“Let me guess. You’ve

beentalkingtoWhitney?Sheseems to think we are. Evenasked me if I was pregnantwith his baby. It’sridiculous.”Peyton eyes me carefully,

then says, “So why are youmeetinghim?”“I’m taking some martial

arts lessons from him. Withhomework and all theactivities, meeting aftercurfew is the only time thatworksforus.”“Why are you taking

lessons?”“I used to take kickboxing

lessonswithmystepdadandImissed it. And it’s a greatworkout.”

“As if the Steele BuildingWorkout isn’t enough,” shesays with a laugh. “I’m gladtoknowthat’sall it is.AndIcan’twait togo toSt.Croix.Even ifWhitney is pissed atme.”“Whyisshepissed?”“Because I’m going with

you. Why else?” she sayswithasmile.

Ohmigawd.

6pmEvery moment during myclassesallIdoiscountdownthe minutes until I can walkout the door and see Aidenthere waiting forme. Until Ican feel his hand tightlyholding mine as we walk tothe next class.How he givesmeasingleperfectkissatthedoor.How I count down the

hours until it’s time to meethiminhisroomfortutoring.And I'm looking very

forward to tonight's tutoring.We're currently studyingbodypartsinFrench.So I think a tutoring field

trip of his body will berequired.Allinthenameoflearning,

ofcourse.When he kissesme before

dinner, I know how my cell

phone feels when its batterygetslow.Whenitflashesatme.Low Battery. 20% of

batteryremaining.Low Battery. 10% of

batteryremaining.That's how I feel between

each kiss. Like I need morecharge.And although each kiss

boosts thecharge, thesecondhis lips leavemine, it's like Igotunplugged.

We rush through dinner,

ignoring our friends eventhough we’re sitting besidethem.Thenrushtohisroom.Wesitonhisbedandkiss

until he finally says, “Weshould probably do somehomework.”“I agree. And we should

startwithFrench.”He smiles knowingly. “I

wasthinkingthesamething.”I spread open our

workbook pages to the bodypartchart.“Ithinkweshouldmake a little game out ofthis.”“Oh,really?”“Yes.I’llsaythebodypart

in French and you have topointtoit.Ifyougetitright...”“I get to kiss it,” he says

withagrin.“Youneed to liedown.Soyou’re like thegirlinthediagram.”“Fine. Okay, so the first

wordisleslèvres.”“Lips,” he says, leaning

over me and placing his lipsonmine.“Verygood.Howabout le

bras?”Hedoesn’tsayaword.Just

leansdown,slidesmyblouseopen a little, and places histongueontheskinjustabovemybra.“That’snotright.”“This better?” He repeats

whathedid,onlythistimehe

roughly sucks my skin intohis mouth giving me aninstanthickey.“I didn’t mean you did it

wrong,” I reply as hecontinues to undomy blouseand suck on more tenderspots.“I,uh,meantthat’snot,like,therightspot.”“Do you like this spot

better?” he asks, movingmybraasideandpullinganippleintohismouth.“Um, yes. But, uh, no. Le

brasmeansarm.”“That makes no sense. I

likemytranslationbetter.”“Wehavealotofwordsto

getthrough.”“Give me another one

then.”“Uh,howaboutlecou?”“That’s an easy one,” he

says, sucking on my otherboob.“Aiden!”Ilaugh.“Noneof

thesewordsareboob.”He leans back up. “Fine.

Whatisit?”“Neck.”“Very nice.” He runs his

handdownmyneckandthenkisses my favorite spot justundermyear.“Whataboutlepied?”“Isthatatrickquestion?”“Whatdoyoumean?”“Is it where you pee

from?”“Ha!No!”“I bet it is. You’re dying

formetokissthere.”

“Itmeans foot.You’re notdoingverywell.”Hekissesmynose.“Sorry.

Next?”“Lajambe.”“Leg.”“Lapoitrine?”Hekissesacrossmychest.“Verygood,”Isay.“That’s

chest.L’estomac?”He unbuttons the rest of

my blouse and runs ticklishlittle kisses across mystomach.

I swallow and say,“Stomach. Correct. Lacoeur?”He stops kissing my

stomach, looks intomy soul,andputshishandontopofit.“Heart,”hesays.“Um, very good. Le

doigt?”He pulls my hand to his

lips, kisses my left ringfinger, and says, “Did youknowthat theveins in this ledoigt are supposed to run

straighttoyour lacoeur,andthat’s why you wear aweddingbandthere?”“Ididn’t know that,” I say

breathlessly.“I’m going to do a quick

versionof this sowecangetit over and get to the goodpart.”I’m wondering what good

partwe’veyettogetto,butIdon’t ask because he says,“La tête. Sounds dirty, butjustmeansyourhead.”

I swallow hard and closemyeyes.Think about the head that

sitsonhisneck,Keatyn.He touches my eye and

says,“L’oeil.”Then he says,“La bouche, les dents, lalangue, lescheveux, l’oreille,and le nez,” in rapidsuccession as he kisses mymouth,my teeth,my tongue,my hair, my ear, and mynose.“Verygood,”Isay,butI’m

a little disappointed. I hadhoped this would go on alittlelonger.“So, I have a follow up

question to the Sex Survey,”hesayswithgrin.“Ifoundoutthatyou'renot

eveninhealthclass.”He keeps his mouth shut

tightly, likehe's tryingnot tolaugh, and smiles. “Everyoneknows it’s a seniors onlyclass.Ithoughtyouwerejustplayingalong.”

“I didn’t know. Youtrickedme.”He smirks, shrugs in the

most adorableway ever, andthen kisses the tip of mynose.Imeltintoapuddle.Cleanuponaislefour.“Hey, wait a second. You

justkissedthetipofmynose.That's what your mom saidyoudotogetoutoftrouble.”He leans in and kissesmy

bottomlipthengrabsitgently

betweenhis teethandpulls itawayfrommymouth.When he lets go, he runs

his tongue across it andwhispers,“Youusethis.Youradorablepout. It'snowonderyoualwaysgetyourway.”“Stopteasingmewithyour

tongue. Either put it to gooduseorputitaway.”“Mmmm, you like my

tongue?”Heuseshistonguetotrace

thecurveofmychin.

I tiltmyheadback,givinghim full access to my neck,andletoutalittlesigh.God, I love this boy’s

tongue.Igrabhisfaceinmyhands

and bring it to my lips,shoving my tongue into hismouth.Then I explore his mouth

like it holds the answers totheuniverse.He pulls me roughly onto

hislap.

Whichprettymuchsetsmypantiesablaze.Ismile.It's obvious my tongue is

gettinghimworkedup.“Icanfeelyousmiling,”he

saysinbetweenkisses.“Ilikesittingonyourlap.”Imovemyselfagainsthim,

grinding into him while wemakeout.He starts to make sexy

littlegrowls.And they turnmeon even

more.His kisses get rougher and

deeper the harder I moveagainsthim.He stops kissing me and

grabsmyhips.“You'regonnahavetostopdoingthatorI'mgonna...”I kiss the tip of his nose,

smile at him, and then lookinto his eyes whilepurposefully moving againsthim.“That'smakingitworse.”

“Good,” I say, smashingmy lips into his and rubbingmyjeansacrossthetopofhishardness.I letmybodygo.Letitdo

whatitwants.Imovemyhips faster and

fasteragainsthim.Overandoveragain.Andthefrictioncausesme

to...Ohmigawd.Can you get excited when

you’re fully clothed? With

nothing but the feel of myjeansmovingroughlyagainstme?“Oh,”Imoan.Aiden reacts by grabbing

my hips, controlling mymotion.I moan again, my insides

throbbing.Hetightenshisgriponme,

stops my movement, andbreathesoutheavily.Then he rests his forehead

againstmine.

“Ithinkwejusthadsex,”Isaywithalaugh.“We didn’t have sex.

We’re fully clothed.” Helaughs. “I’venever done thatbefore.Dryhumping.”“Trust me, there was

nothingdryaboutit.”He kisses me hard then

says, “I’m gonna run to thebathroom real quick. Cleanup.”“Okay.”While he’s gone, I realize

that my heart has taken upresidence in my vagina. It'sstill throbbing and pulsingandpounding.I plop down on his bed.

Maybelyingflatwillhelp.Butitdoesn’t.It’sbegging

and giving me anoverwhelmingdesiretotouchmyself.Ireachdownandpressmy

handagainstmyjeans.I don't hear Aiden come

out of the bathroom. I'm

trying to figure outwhat I'mgoingtodoaboutthis.Aiden replaces my hand

with his and says, “I'll dothat.”“Itkeepsthrobbing.”Aiden’ssmileblazes.When he runs his hand

roughlyon theoutsideofmypants again, that's all it takestosendmeovertheedge.“Ohmygod.Oh...Oh..

.Oooohhh...Mmmmmm.”I move my hips quickly

against his fingers. I don'tcare that thereare two layersof fabric separating us. I'mshamelessinmyneed.Finally, I stop, liebackon

the bed, and sigh. “Holyshit.”“Did you . . . I mean, I

don't think I've ever made agirl,um,dothat.”“I’ve.” Deep breath.

“Never.” Another deepbreath.“Either.”Aiden’s smile lights up

campus.“Never?”“Notlikethat.”“Notlikewhat?”I cross my legs and

squirm.“It’sstillthrobbing.”“Tellmewhatnotlikethat

means, and I’ll do it somemore.”“I can’t tell you about

that.”“Boots,wehavetobeable

totalkaboutsex.Aboutwhatfeelsgood...”

“I just told youwhat feelsgood!Please.”“Tellme.”“Oh my gosh. Fine. I’ve

never had one happen fromthe outside before. Onlyfrom, um, the interiorportion.”“The interior portion?” he

replies,laughingatmychoiceofwords.“You know what I’m

saying.”“Vousavezeuunorgasme

destimulationinterne?“Yes, Aiden, I had one

frominternalstimulation.”“How?Exactly.”“I’mnottellingyou.”“Then I’m not rubbing

you,” he pauses and touchesthe spot I want—no, need—himtokeeprubbing.“Fine!Atsomepointinmy

life someone may have usedhismouthontheoutside...”“Survotreleclitoris?”“Yes, on that part. While

putting his fingers on theinside.”“Dansvotrevagin?”“Ohmigawd. Yes, in my

vagina. And then he putsomethingelseinthere.”“Histonengin?”“Yes, his tool. I never

should have bought you thatdirtyFrenchbook.”He rubs his hand slowly

betweenmy legs. Not in theexactspotIneed,butclose.“Now you’re just teasing

me.”“Jevousaimetaquiner,ma

chérie.”“You love teasing me?

That’snotright.”“I want to know how to

turnyouon.”“I just told you how, but

youkeepstopping!”He leans down, kisses my

neck, and finally rubs myjeansinexactlytherightspot.When I get tomy dorm, I

run to Maggie's room, pullher out of bed, and drag herintothestairwell.“Are there different kinds

oforgasms?”She rubs her eyes. “Uh,

yeah.Why?”“Aidenwasrubbingmeon

the outside of my pants. Hewasn’teventouchingmyskinand I did. Actually, I didmore than once.Ormaybe itwas just one continual one, Idon’t know. And still, now,

it’slikeit’sstillcontracting.”“Did you not have them

withDawson?”“I thought I had. I mean,

sex always felt really good,butitwasn’tuntilwewenttohishouseforRiley’sbirthdaythat I really did.He took histime,foronce,butitwaslikean internal feeling. This isdifferent.”“There are two, possibly

three, different types oforgasm.Clitoral,vaginal,and

G-Spot.”“How do you even know

that?”“Um, Logan may have

lookeditup.”“Why?”“Why do you think? He

wantedtopleaseme.”I smile. “And is he

pleasingyounow?”“Yes. Very much. We

haven’t actually had sex yet.Wewant tomakesurethis isreally right before we do it

again, but we’re doingeverything else. I think he’stryingtomakeupforbeingajerkbefore.It’sbeenallaboutme. Which makes it reallyfun.”“Does it ever stop

throbbing?Ithinkitmightbebroken.”“Sounds like you need

somesex.”“You're right.That iswhat

Ineed.”Igotomyroom,lieinmy

bed, stare at the stars, andimagineourperfectnight.Which involves me

stripping that boy nakedtomorrownightanddeclaringNOvemberofficiallyover.OnceKatie is asleep, I get

up, sneak out, and go meetCooperformorebuttkickinglessons.

Friday,November18th

Ineedthefeathers.1am

Tonight is going to beamazing, I think, as I knockon Aiden’s door lightly. I’mgoing to glide those feathersalloverhisnakedbody.Finally.Heopenshis door, pulling

meinsideandputtinghislipsonmine.I pull him over to his bed

andpushhimdownonit.“Where’syourbackpack?”“My backpack?” he says

with a grin. “I don’t think

we’re going to be doing anystudyingtonight.”“Ineedthefeathers.”“Oh,”hesays.“Iforgotmy

backpack in my footballlocker.”“Seriously?”I plop sadly on his futon

andstickoutmylowerlip.“Stop that,” he says,

flicking my lip and pullingmeontothebed.“Rememberyou asked about the dream Ihad?”

“The sexual one?” Ha!Now we’re gettingsomewhere. “Yeah. Youpromised to tell me, but youhaven’tyet.”“Lieflatonyourback,”he

bosses.Heliesonhisbacknextto

me, both of us looking up athisceiling.Hereachesoutandtouches

mypinkielikehedidthedayIfirstsawthestars.He rolls over on his side

andpullsmehardup againsthischest.“I think I’d rather show

you,”hesays.Thenhekissesme.A mouth open, full-on

tongue,hot,hardkiss.Even after all the making

out we’ve done, I didn’tknow he was capable of akisslikethis.Fire and energy roll like

wavesthroughmybody.When he bites my neck

that fire pulses directlybetweenmylegs.Herollsontop of me, but is holdinghimself above me. Like he'sdoing a push up. I run myhand across his arm, acrossthe muscles that are allpumped from holding up hisweight.He slowly lowers his lips

to my neck without lettingany part of his upper bodytouchmine.I feel the fireonmyneck,

but all I can think about iswhat is touching. His hipshaveminepinned to thebed.Hislegsarebetweenmine.He runs his tongue slowly

frommyneck down intomycleavage.Ihaveafeelingofdejavu.We did this in one of my

owndreams.“I’m doing what I

dreamed,” he murmurs intomy hair as he pulls off myshirt and runs his tongue

down my chest, and straighttomy...jeans.When he undoes the

button,Iwanttojumpupanddownandscream.Who needs feathers when

wehavethattongue?Heslideshistongueacross

my stomach, stoppingoccasionally to kiss or suckon a spot. Then his tongueglides across the top edge ofmypanties.Oh.My.Gosh.

Ineedhispantsundone.I’mreadyforthis.And based on themassive

hardnessIcanfeelagainstmyleg,heistoo.Ireachdown,gethispants

unbuttoned, and touch hiszipper.Suddenly, he grabs my

hand.Stoppingme.“I don’t want to wait

anymore.”“We’renotgoingtoyet.”

“Yes, we are. Stop tellingmeno.”“What’swrongwithtaking

things slow?Not screwing itup?”“Because it is screwing it

up, Aiden. I’m going crazyhere. Can we at least do alittlemore.Areyougay?Areyouafraidformetoseeit,ortouchit?Imean,Icanfeelit.Iknowyouhaveone.”“I’m not gay. And I

definitely have one. But I

want it to be right when wedo.”“Ineversaidwehavetodo

it, but we can do more thanwhat we’re doing now.There’splentymoretodo.”“If we go that route, I

won’tbeabletostop.”“Fine.I’llstopus.I’ll take

responsibility for stoppingus.”“No,youwont. Ifyouhad

yourway,we’dhave alreadydone it.Youkeep trying and

trying!”“That’snottrue!Idowant

to wait for sex. I just don’twanttowaitforeverything!”“Well,you’regonnawait!”“I’mTIREDofyoutelling

meWHATI’mgonnado!!”“Maybe if you weren’t so

freaking stubborn. Why doyou have to fight me onevery.Single.Thing?”“I wouldn’t fight you if

you would just let me havemyway.”

“I think you’re a little tooused to gettingwhatever youwant, whenever you want it.This isn’t all about you. It’sabout us. Remember theclover?”“IgetwhateverIwant,Mr.

Maserati? I’m sick of beingtold no! I’m so done withthis!”I get up, storm out the

door,andruntomyroom.Ilieinmybed,fumingand

waiting for him to call andapologize.Hedoesn’t.SoItextRiley.

Me:URGGGGG!!!!!

Riley:What’swrong?

Me: He turnedme down!

AGAIN!! And I didn’t evenwant to have sex. I justwantedtounziphispants.Buthe said if I did, he wouldn’t

be able to stop. Which isBULLSHIT!He could stop. Itold him I’d make him stop,but he didn’t believe me.Then he said that I’mstubborn! I’M SO SICK OFHIM TELLING ME WHATTO DO! Then he said I’musedtogettingmyway.IAMNOT USED TO GETTINGMYWAY!!!Andwhy isn’thetexting me? Calling me?Running after me? Beggingmeforforgiveness!!??

Riley: How long has it

been?Me:Twelveminutes.

Riley:Youmightbealittle

usedtogettingyourway.Me:Ihatemylife.

Riley: It’s just a fight. It

will be fine. Ariela says hi.We’llseeyoutomorrow.

Maybe I should go to the

party and drownmy sorrowsinrum.ButIdon’treallydon’tfeel

likepartying.I’llstayhere.I’msurehe’ll

be texting, calling, orknocking on my windowsoon.He’llapologizeandtellme I can unzip his pantswheneverIwant.AndthenIwill.

I wake up, look at theclock, and see it’s alreadyfive in themorning. Katie isinherbedfastasleep.Ireachtomybedsidetable,

frantically feeling for myphone.WhenIcan’tfindit,Ipatmy covers all aroundmelookingforit.Allofasudden,itlightsup

fromundermypillow.Itmustbehim!I grab it, expecting to see

that he’s tried to call me

numeroustimes.Buthehasn’t.I only have a few stupid

Facebooknotifications.Whatthehell?

Saturday,November19thWhat’swrong,

baby?7am

Iwakeupagainatsevenandimmediatelycheckmyphonetoseeifhetextedme.Hehasn’t.Instead, I have a text from

Camden.Cam: What’s going on

withWhitney?Me:Whatdoyoumean?

Cam: She hasn’t sent me

anythingortextedmeinthree

days.Me: Shouldn’t you be

happyaboutthat?Cam:Ishouldbe,butI’m

not. Something’s up. IsPeytonokay?Me:Ihaven’tseenherthis

morning,butshe’sbeenfine.Cam: Something is about

tohappen.Iknowit.

Me: Why do you think

that?Cam: Just stuff that she’s

been saying about that newteacher. The last time shedidn’t textme for threedays,she got a girl expelled fromschool.Me:Who?

Cam:Justachickfromthe

danceteam.ShewashotandwasafterDawsonhard.Me:Didshelietogether

kickedout?Cam: No one knows for

sure.ShetoldPeytonthegirlwas going down. And a fewdayslater,shedid.Me: Peyton has really

been pushing her buttons. Ikeeptellinghertostop.

Cam: What’s your

email?”Me:Kiki@meme.com

Cam: I’m sending you a

file. It is full of dirt onWhitney. You have mypermissiontouseittoprotectPeyton.Ifthere’sanywayforDawson not to see it, I’dprefer it, but don’t let herhurtP.

Me: Are you in lovewith

her?Cam: We’re kind of like

youandRiley.Ifeeltheneedtoprotectthatgirl.Me:I’llkeepaneyeout.

Cam:Thanks.

Me: Can I ask you

something?

Cam:Sure.

Me: Is there any reason

why you would stop a girlthat you like fromunbuttoningyourpants?Cam: Uh, can’t think of

one.Me: Would you be afraid

youcouldn’tstop?

Cam: I’d be afraid shecouldn’tstop.I’mirresistible.Me: What if she could?

Whatifyouwantedherto?Cam: Why would I want

herto?Me: You’re making her

wait until you’re sure you’reinlove.Cam:Uh...Isthegolden

boymakingyouwait?Me: Wegot inabig fight

last night about it and Istormedoff.Hehasn’t textedmeorapologizedoranything.Cam: P says he likes you

and you have that wholeThanksgiving break tripplanned. I’m sure it’s just alittletiff.Me:You’reright.MaybeI

should apologize for that.Maybehe’swaitingformetoapologize?Cam:Probably:)

Me:Thankyou:)

Maybe that’s why he

hasn’t texted me. He’swaitingformetoapologize.So that’s what I’ll do. I’ll

gowatchhisfootballpracticeandthenapologizetohim.

I shower, spend extra timeblowingmyhairout straight,and then stand in my closettrying to figure out what towear.If I were smart, I’d wear

some sweats so I’d be warmand comfortable, but I wantto look perfect when I sayI’msorry.It’schillythismorning,but

has been unseasonablywarmthis week, so I decide on acreamlacebraandthongthat

have pale pink embroidery,cream over-the-knee socksworn with tall brown boots,orangedenimshorts,acreamtop, and a cream sweaterjacket cinched with a brownbraidedbelt.I decide to pull my

straightened hair back in acutepony.SothatIlooklikeI didn’t try, even though Itotally did. Kym would beproud.Iheadouttogetacoffeeto

takewithme.Just as I step out of my

dorm,InoticeChelseasittingonthebrickwall.She jumps off of it when

she sees me and says,“Keatyn.”“Hi, Chelsea,” I say

politely because I know thatDallaslikesher.She raises her chin in the

air. “I justwanted to let youknow that Aiden and Ihooked up last night. He’s

mine now. And, really, noone likes you here. Youshould just go back toCalifornia or wherever it isthatyoucamefrom.”“Idon’tbelieveyou.”She shrugs one shoulder

andraisesabitchyeyebrowatme. “What? You think youcanhaveeveryhotguyhere?And you better believe it.AidenandIhavehistory.Webrokeuplastyearafterprom,andhe’sbeenbegging toget

back together all semester.You were nothing but arebound.”She turns her back on me

andwalks away, shaking hercurvyass.I drop to the step, barely

abletobreathe.Isthattrue?Iwasjustarebound?Waseverythinghetoldme

alie?I’mgoingto...I’mgoingto...

I don’t even know whatI’mgoingtodo.But then I turn and run

straighttotheboys’dorm.I find myself knocking on

Riley’sdoor.He opens it wearing a

Cougar athletic hoodie andsweats, ready for footballpractice. “Hey, I was justleaving.”I stand there and stare at

him.ThenIloseit.Tearsstartstreaming down my face. I

shovemyhead intohischestandsob,goingfromcalmandincontroltoafreakingwreckintheblinkofaneye.“What’swrong, baby?” he

says, rubbing my back andholdingmeup.I blabber on about how

Aidensworehewasgoingtobe different. How we foughtlast night. How Chelsea waswaiting outside my dorm.Howshetoldmetheyhookedup. How he’s been trying to

getbacktogetherwithherallsemester. How I was just arebound.WhileIamblathering,he’s

texting.“What’ssoimportant?”“I just asked Dallas to

come here,” Riley says. Histeethareheldtogethertightly,likehe’smadatme.“Why?”Dallas walks in the room

andRileyliterarilypushesmeout of his arms and into

Dallas’.“He didn’t even say

goodbye,” I say to Dallas,watching Riley march downthe hall. “Imean, I know hehad to leave for practice, butwhyishemadatme?”Dallas gives me a hug,

pulls me onto his bed, andsays, “I don’t think it’s youthathe’smadat.”I stopsniffling.“Oh.So is

thatwhyhewastextingyou?He was telling you what

happened?”Dallas nods and says

quietly,“Yeah.”“Did you know about

AidenandChelsea?”“No,”hesays,andIrealize

that he liked Chelsea a lotmorethanheadmitted.I sniffle, pull all the snot

back into my sinuses—orwherever it goes—and say,“Youlikedher,didn’tyou?”“I was thinking about

asking her to be my

girlfriend.Shesaidshereallylikedme.”I hug him again, tightly.

“Relationshipssuck.”“Funny thing is, I didn’t

thinkIwanteda relationship.But then we kept doing it.And it was fun. Hot. Nice.”He pauses. “Obviously, notniceenough.”“I’m sorry, Dallas,” I say

ashisphonewhistles at him,letting him know he has atext.

He holds his phone up sowecanbothreadit.Dawson: My brother just

ran out onto the field,marched up to Aiden, andpunched him. I’m talkingfreaking LAID HIM OUT.Questionis,why?Dallas:Kiki.

Dawson: So the rumors I

heardthismorningabouthim

hooking upwithChelsea aretrue?Dallas:Iguess.

Dawson:Whereisshe?

Dallas: Bawling on my

shoulder.Dawson: Tell her I’ll be

thererightafterpractice.DallasandIdecidetostop

beingpitifulandturnonsomeup-beat,happymusic.Afterwelistenforawhile,

Dallas says, “Let’s throw aparty.”“Apityparty?”Isaywitha

sadlaugh.“Exactly.” He grabs his

phone and orders ten largepizzas, lots of hot wings,breadsticks, and little moltenlavacakes.Thenhesays,“Berightback.”I go in their bathroom, fix

my makeup, and talk tomyselfinthemirror.You’refine.You don’t need a boy in

yourlife.Youhavegoodfriends.You’re happy with

yourself.That’sallyouneed.But I also decide to send

Aidenatext.If I love myself, I should

standupformyself.I type a long hateful

paragraphandthendeleteit.I type a short spiteful

sentenceandthendelete.I’m having a hard time

getting into words the rightamount of the venom I’mfeeling combined with theimpersonality of a chainletter. Finally, I end up withthis.Me: Chelsea toldme that

youhookeduplastnight.

Dallasstrollsback into theroom, his hands full ofvending machine junk food:multiple bags of chips,pretzels,andcandybars.He’sgot a full package ofchocolatechipcookiestuckedunder his arm and bottles offull-sugar soda under theother.“You’re like the king of

pityparties.Iworshipyou.”“You’re looking more

human. Not so much like a

zombie.”“Thanks, I think. Is it bad

thatIkindawanttogowatchthe end of practice? Try toshow Aiden he meansnothingtome?”“Aiden has a broken nose

and is in the locker roombeingattended to.Riley is inthe dean’s office gettingsuspended.”“Suspended?Forwhat?”“You can’t go around

punching people. It’s kinda

againstschoolrules.”“Oh. I never thought of

that! I feel so bad! Heshouldn’t have punched him,thatwasstupidofhim.”“Notsweet?”“It was totally sweet, but

heshouldn’thave.”Dawson walks into the

room, his hair wet frompractice and looking morescrumptious thanall the junkfood combined. “Yeah, heshouldhave.”

“What’sgonnahappen?Doyouknow?”“Well,Coach toldme they

were going to suspend himforthenextthreedays,whichwould mean he won’t get toplay in the playoff game. Itold Coach that if he didn’tplay,neitherwasI.Thatalotof uswouldn’t play.He sayshe’sgoingtotalktothedean.We’llsee.”“Ifeelreallybad.”Dawson grabs me around

the waist and pulls me ontothebedwithhim.“Last time Riley got mad,

it was you he wanted topunch.”“I didn’t cheat on you. So

areyouandAidenover?”“I thought it was just a

fight. I mean, I said I wasdone, but I was frustrated. Ididn’tmeanit.”“Butnow?”I thought I was done

crying,buttearsfillmyeyes.

Ican’tsayitoutloud.Idon’twant to say it out loud. Ishakemyhead. “Don’tmakemesayit,Dawson.”“Whydon’tyoujusthavea

cookie?”hesays,handingmeone.I look up at him and

Dallas.“Iwasgoingtosayitjust doesn’t get any betterthan this, butwe’d need ruminourcokesforthat.”Dallas’ phone buzzes.

“Pizza’shere.I’llgogetit.”

Dawson pops off the bed.“And I’ll go get some rum.”Butthenhesitsbackdownonthe corner of the bed andsays, “As usual, I probablyshouldn’tdothis,butIam.”Normally,IwouldsayAnd

thenhekissedme,buthejustkisses the side of my cheek.WhichisgoodbecauseIcan’tkiss anyone else. I’m prettysure Aiden ruined my lipsforever.Dallascomesbackwiththe

pizzadeliveryandwespreadoutallthefoodandsnacks.I chow down. I don’t care

that I’m going to be in St.Croix in a bikini in a fewdays.St. Croix. I’m such an

idiot.WhydidI inviteAidenandPeyton?Obviously, they are

officiallyuninvited.I plop on the bed.

Depressed.AndfeelinglikeIjustatea

moose.Riley and Ace come

walkingin.“It smells good in here,”

Riley says, grabbing a pieceof pizza, folding it in half,andshovingitinhismouth.“Riley! Why did you do

that?Whatdidthedeansay?”He chews, then says, “He

yelled at me. Told me Ishouldbesuspendedforthreedays. Called my parents—who also yelled at me—and

thenbroughtAiden in to talkabout it. His nose is broken.The dean asked if hewantedto press charges. Aiden saidno. Said he deserved it.Thathe hoped I wouldn’t get introuble because the teamneedsmefortheplayoffs.”“Hesaidhedeservedit?”“Yep.”“Shit.” I put my hand

acrossmyfaceandtrynot tocry.I realize that I had still

been holding out hope thatshewaslyingtome.Myheartdidn’t believe he would dosuchathing.But if Aiden said he

deserved it that meanseverythingshesaidwastrue.“So did you get

suspended?”Iask.“Coach says I have to run

about a million laps and dosome shit jobs for him, butI’mnotsuspended.”I leap off the bed, throw

myselfintohisarms,andstartcryingagain.He hugs me tightly and

whispers, “Baby, I told you.Anybody messes with you,theyhavetoanswertome.”“Aiden hated that you call

mebaby.”“Idon’tthinkIcare.”“You deserve some rum

andcoke.”“Yes,Ido.”“Riley?”Iwhisper.“What?”

“IsAidenokay?”He pulls me out into the

hallway.“He’llbefine.”“I appreciate you standing

up forme, but you shouldn’thavedonethat.Youcould’vegotten suspended orexpelled.”“Look,Ineedtogotalkto

Ariela.She’supset.”“Because you punched

Aiden?”“Yeah, she thinks it’s

becauseIlikeyou.”

“Butyoudon’t.”“You and I know that, but

shedoesn’t.Ineedtoexplainto her that I didn’t do itbecauseofyou.”“Youdidn’t?”“No. Aiden made me a

promise and he broke it.That’swhyIpunchedhim.”“Whatpromise?”Riley shakes his head. “It

doesn’tmatteranymore.Let’sjust saywewerebothwrongaboutAiden.”Hegivesmea

kissonthecheek.“YougoingtobeokaywhileIgo?”“Yeah. The pity party is

sorta keeping my mind offthings.”I go back into their room

andsitonthebed.The boys go on and on

aboutAidengettingpunched.Howhehittheground.I can’t help it. I swore I

wasn’t going to look at myphone,butIdo.There’snothing.

SoImessagePeyton.Me: I’m sure by now you

heardwhatyourbrotherdid.I hope you understand that Ihave to un-invite you to St.Croix. I’m not mad at you,but your stupid smile is justlike his and I can’t bear tolookatitallbreak.I’msorry.Ihope thisdoesn’taffectourfriendship.Peyton: What happened?

Really.Me:Wegotinafightlast

night. I told him I was doneand walked out. But I didn’tmean done, like over. I wasjust done fighting. I wasplanning to apologize thismorning, but Chelsea waswaiting for me outside mydorm. She told me theyhookedup last nightandareback together. I was reallyupset and ran to Riley’s

room, crying. He went andpunchedAiden.Peyton: I understand

about the trip. Are you stillgoing?Me: Yeah. I need to get

away.Peyton:Allalone?

Me:Definitely.

The guys eat all the pizzaand then someone goes andgets a bunch of cupcakesfromthecafé.Theyhangout,laugh, and talk about the bigplayoffgamethisweek.Igositdownnext toJake,

whojustjoinedus.“Pityparty,huh?”heasks.“Yeah.”“Whathappened?”I don’t want to talk about

Aiden, so I grab a cupcake,pretend I’m going to eat it

but, instead, I shove it in hisface.I giggle because he has

frostingeverywhere.“Oh, you’re in trouble

now, Monroe,” he says,chasingmedownthehall.IhidebehindDawson,who

is coming back with morecups.“Saveme!”Iscream.Jake tries to jump around

him,wavingacupcakeatme.He sticks the cupcake up to

Dawson’sface,gettingalittlefrostingonit.“You’re on your own,”

Dawsontellsme.I don’t want to be on my

own, so I throw my armsaroundDawson’sneck, jumponhisback,andhidemyfacebehindhisneck.“She’s a devious one,”

Jakesays.Dawson swings his body

around, trying to get me offhisback.

Itdoesn’twork.Until they start working

together.Jake hands Dawson the

cupcake. I try to push hishandforwardso that it slamsinto his face, but Jake grabsmearoundthewaistandtriestopullmeoffDawson.Dawson reaches around

with his free hand and startsticklingmyside.I giggle, scream, and lose

mygriparoundhisneck.

Jakewaspullinghard,butIdon’t think he was preparedfor the shift in momentumbecausehefallsontohisbackwith me landing squarely ontopofhim.Dawson turns around and

pouncesonusboth.“Thisisanewoutfit!Don’t

getfrostingonit!”“Toughshit,”heyellsashe

straddlesusboth.WhileJakestrugglesunder

our combined weight,

Dawson grins and shovesicingontoourfaces.Thenhetakes the cake part andcrumblesitintoourhair.Jake yells, “As soon as I

getup,you’redead!”Dawsondoesn’tlethimup;

instead, he leans down andstarts licking frosting off mycheek.“Oh, Dawes, you’re

making me hard,” Jake saysjokingly, which causesDawson to stick a frosting-

coveredtongueoutatJake.Ilaugh,turnmyheadaway

from his tongue, and noticefeet.Jake goes, “Oh, hey,

Aiden. How you feeling,buddy?”Ifreeze.I’m thinking this might

lookbad.Meinthemiddleofaboysandwich.Beinglicked.Dawson stops screwing

aroundandquicklypullsJake

andmeup.Weallstandthereawkwardly.I take a second to really

lookatAiden.His face—his beautiful,

perfectly-sculpted face—isswollen and bruised. Thereareredcrustybitsaroundthebottom of his nostrils. Hisskin,whichisusuallyradiant,hasaslightlygraytingetoit.It screams of hangover andpain.Aidenstaresatme.

Me,whowasjust lyingonthe ground sandwichedbetweentwoboysandgettingfrostinglickedoffherface.Me, who wants to reach

outandmakethebruisinggoaway.Me, who wants to kiss

awayhispain.There is more awkward

silence, then finally Aidenstates,“I’vefeltbetter.”He slumps his shoulders

and continues toward the

stairs.“Well, thatwasawkward,”

Dawsonsaysoncehe’sgone.“He looked really bad. I

feelreallybad,”Iconfess.“Why?Hedeservedit.”“Did he?” Jake asks.

“Regardless of whathappened with Chelsea, youweren’tgoingout.Youupsethim. He got drunk. Then hegoes to practice hung overandgetshisnosebrokenbyafriend.”

Dawsonsays,“Hedidlookbad. Do youwant to go talktohim?”“No. I texted him. Told

him I knew he hooked upwith her. He hasn’t replied.Hasn’tapologized.Nothing.”“I doubt he’s had time,”

Jake counters. “He wasthrowingupthismorningandthen went to practice. Sincethen,he’sbeeneitherwiththetrainerorthedean.”“He said he deserved it.

He’s not going to text me.Whatwouldhesay?Sorryforhookingupwithher.Except,really, I’m not sorry becausethisiswhatI’vewantedsincelastyear.”“Ithinkyoushouldgotalk

tohim,”Dawsonsays.I peek atmy phone again,

wishing he would saysomething.Anything.Somekindofexplanation.BecauseIdon’tunderstand

how I could’ve been sowrongabouthim.Ifrown.Dawson must see the

disappointment on my facebecausehe says, “Whydon’tyou come to my room? IthinkIhavesomemorerum.”“Ineedsomerum.”We get to his room and

findamostlyemptybottleofrum.“Youcanhaveit,”hesays,

handingmethebottle.

I grab it and take a bigswig, realizing that sinceseeingAiden,Ineedthispityparty more than ever. I gettearsinmyeyes.“Don’t cry,”Dawson says.

“You know, something likethis happened to me andWhitney once. We got in afight.Iwasupset.Gotdrunk.Gottakenadvantageof.”“You got taken advantage

of?Bywho?”“Just this chick on the

dance team. She knew Iwasdrunk. Knew I neverwould’ve kissed her if Iwasn’t.”“What were you fighting

about?”“I don’t even remember,

probably something stupid.My point is, I was upset. Iwasn't looking to hook up. Iwanted to get drunk. Period.Then the next day, I wasplanning to beg for herforgiveness. I’m just saying,

maybeAidendidn’tmeanforittohappen.”“He’s wanted her all

semester,”Isaysadly.All of a sudden, I don’t

careaboutmakingamistake.IneedDawson toholdme. Ineed him to make me feelgood. Make me feel likesomeone cares about me.Someone wants me. I knowit’swrong.IknowIshouldn’tneedthat.IknowIwillregretit.

ButIdon’tcare.Ileanintokisshim.He puts his hand up and

stopsme.“What?”“We’renotgonnadothis.”“Whynot?”“I want you. You know I

do, but I think itwould be amistake.”“The last time I made a

mistakeitwasthebestsexofmylife.”I push him onto the bed

and throw myself on top ofhim.Iwrapmylegaroundhisandslowlyrockmyhipsintohim. Kiss his neck. Try toundohisshorts."Keatie,damn.Stop,okay?

I'm trying really hard to dothe right thing here." Hepushes me back. "You dowhat you just did to me toAiden?""Uh,kinda.""Gotta give theguy credit.

NowayIcouldsayno.”

“Good. Untie this,” I say,pullingattheknotholdinghisworkoutshortson.“Except,thatI’msayingno

now.”I flop over on my back. I

swear, if I someonesays thatword to me one more time,I’mgonnaloseit.Dawson hovers above my

face. “I’ll make you a deal.Settle it with Aiden. If it’sreally over then I'll doanythingyouwant."

"How about, for now, wejustkiss?"“Nope.Youneedtogotalk

toAiden.”“Noway!” I pull my shirt

up.“Look, Ihaveona reallyprettynewbra.”He pulls my shirt back

down.“I’m trying to do the right

thinghere.Go.I'mserious.”Istampmyfoot.“Dawson,

you're supposed to be myfriend. I’m throwing myself

atyou.”“Trustme,ourfriendshipis

the only thing keeping mefromrippingthosepantiesoffyou. That, and your phone’sbeenbuzzing.”Hegrabsitoffhisnightstandandlooksatit.“He tried to call you twice.Healsotextedyou.”I swipe the phone out of

hishandandlookatit.Hottie God: We need to

talk.Myroom.7:00.

I glance at the time. It’s

7:10.“I’m not going. He’s not

goingtoordermearound.”“Justgoseewhathehasto

say, then decide what youwanttodo.”“What I want to do is go

upstairs, tell him to fuck off,and then come back downhereandfuckyou.”Dawsonshakeshishead.“I

saw the way you looked at

him in the hall. We’re notdoing that, Keatie. Nottonight.”He gives me a hug and

pushes me out the door.“Go.”Leaving the safety of

Dawson’s room makes mefeelveryalone.Iwalkdown thehall,upa

flight of stairs, and stand infrontofhisdoor.Ican'tbelieveI’mstanding

here.

It’sbullshit.I’mnottalkingtohim.What is there to talk

about?Allhe’sgoingtosayisthat

he’s back together with her.Givemesomelameapology.Makemecryagain.No.Ican’tdoit.Ican’tlistentothosewords

comeoutofhismouth.Myheartcan’ttakeit.Bryce’s door opens from

behindmeandKatiepullsmeintohisroom.“We need to talk,” Bryce

says.“Aboutwhat?”“About last night,” Katie

says.“Whatdoyoumean?”“Aidendidn’thookupwith

Chelsea.”“What do you mean? She

told me they did. Told methey’rebacktogether.”“It’s not true. Bryce was

there.Thewholetime.”I drop to Bryce’s bed. “I

don’tunderstand.Whydidn’tyoutellmeearlier?”“Because I just figured it

out when I talked to Katie.After Riley punched him, Iwas helping Aiden. He toldmehegotpunchedbecauseofabrokenpromise.Ifiguredithad something to do withyou, but he wouldn’t say.He’s either been with thedean or getting medical

attentionsinceRileypunchedhim. I don’t think he evenknowswhatChelseadid.Hisphone was in my room allday.Andhejustgotback.”“Tellmewhathappened.”Bryce sits down next to

me. “We were at the Caveand it started raining, so Idropped Katie off at herdorm.When Igotbackhere,Aiden had already beendrinking. Iwas getting readyto ask him what was wrong

when Chelsea barged inlooking for alcohol. She sawAiden,saidsheneededtotalktohim,andpulledhimouttothehall.”I shut my eyes tightly.

“Nevermind.Idon’twant tohearthis.”“Let me finish. I opened

thedoorandChelseahadhimpinned against the wall. Shekissedhisneckandhepushedher off of him. Which,considering how drunk he

was...So,anyway,she’snotonetotakenoforananswer,so she dropped to her knees,unzipped his pants, and toldhimthatshecouldmakehimfeelbetter.”“He let her unzip his

pants?!”Icryout.“Yeah, but let me finish.

Thenhegrabbedherchinandsaid,Don’teverfuckingtouchme again, stumbled back inhere, and slammed the doorshut.”

“He must have snuck outlaterandmether,then?”“He didn’t. Hewas inmy

roomfortherestofthenight.Puking.”“Ijustdon’tgetwhyshe’d

lie.”“Chelsea wants every guy

forherselfandlovestocausetrouble,”Katiereplies.But Bryce counters,

“That’snotreallyit.Lastyeartheydated andwent toPromtogether. At Prom, he found

out that she’d been screwingaround on him, so he brokeupwithher.Itwasn’tuntilheshowed interest in you thatshe started apologizing andtelling him she wanted himback.”“Whywouldanyonebe so

mean?Tolielikethat?”But then I rememberwhat

MandydidtoCush.How it wasn’t his fault.

HowMandy kept lying evenwhen confronted with the

truth.Iputmyfaceinmyhands.Tryingtoletitsinkin.You have to trust the

peoplethatyoulove.Ididn’ttrustAiden.And now he has a broken

nosebecauseofit.I slowly get up, walk out

thedoor inadaze,andstandinfrontofAiden’sdoor.My phone vibrates.

"Yeah?""Whereareyou?"

"Standing outside yourdoortryingtodecide—"Hisdoorswingsopen."Yourfacelookshorrible!"

Iblurtout.I want to kiss his swollen

nose, the black circle underone eye, and the slightlyyellowcircleundertheother."Come in, please.

Obviously,weneedtotalk."“Areyouokay?”“I’vehadbetterdays.”I look down at the floor

andsayquietly,“Metoo.”We both stand here

awkwardly. I’m waiting forhim to say something.Whenhe doesn’t, I confess, “Brycejust told me that you mightnot know what happened.What Chelsea told me. WhyRileypunchedyou.”“Pleasetellme.”“Itdoesn’tmatter.”“It does matter. We’ve

been working on ourfoundation...”

“Thiswasalotmorethanatext.”“I would hope so, but I

need to know what she toldyou.”“Shesaidshewantedmeto

know, um, that you hookeduplastnightandthatIshouldgo back to California . . .” Istop and close my eyes. I’mtrying hard not to cry.“Because no one here likesme. And when I told her Ididn’tbelieveher...”

“Wait. You didn’t believeher?”“No.Notatfirst.”“Whatdidshesaytomake

you believe it? What tore italldown?”“Shetoldmethatyouused

to date. That you broke upafter prom, and how you’vebeen trying to get backtogetherwithherallsemester. . .And . . .And . . .That Iwasjustarebound.”“Andnowyouknowthat’s

not true? That she reallycheatedonme.ThatI’dneverdothattoyou.”I can’t do this. I can’t sit

hereandtalkaboutthis.“Ihavetogo,Aiden.”He grabs my hands.

“Pleasedon’tgo.”“Last night, I thought you

wouldcomeapologize.Ikeptwaiting.”“I’m not going to

apologize for telling you no.And I’m not the one who

acted likeaspoiled littlebratwhodidn’tgetherway.”“If that’s what you think

aboutme—thatIonlywantedtounzipyourpantsbecauseIwanted to getmyway—thenyou should go back toChelsea.”“This isn’t about her, it’s

aboutus.”“There is no more us,

Aiden.”“Whatdoyoumean?”“I can’t do this anymore.

You’renot thebossofmeorthe boss of our relationship.And I’m not going toapologize for being attractedto you or for wanting you. Iwantagoodrelationship.Onewheretwopeoplecandiscusshowthey’refeelingwithoutitalways ending in a fight.Without someone stormingoff.”“Youdidthatlastnight.”“Yeah, because I couldn’t

take you rejecting me one

moretime.”“Do you think it’s been

easyforme?I’mdoingit foryou.Becauseyouneed togoslow.”I shake my head and turn

toward the door. But then Ipause and turn back around.“Whydoyou think Ineed togoslow?”“Becausethelasttwoguys

you’ve been with, that youloved, hurt you. Iwant to bethe guy that doesn’t hurt

you.”“But you’re hurting me

right now.You have no ideahowbadthishurtme.”“Keatyn, all your past

relationshipshavebeenbasedonsex.AndIwant—”“No!Youstopthere.That's

bullshit! You don’t knowanything!” I clutch my chestand start crying even harder.“I loved the Keats guy. Hewasmy friend for twoyears.Our relationship was never

basedonsex.Don’tyoueversay it was! And I'm sick ofyou judging me. Especiallyyou. I know you had lots ofrelationships based on sexlast year and you hooked upwith girls you didn’t evencare about. So, stoppretending this is about me.Stop trying to make me payformypastandstart lookingatyourown.”“Says the girl who’s still

sleepingwithDawson.”

“What?! What are youeven talking about? I haven'tdone anything, not evenkissedDawson, since, since .. . like, before Halloween. Ichoseyou.”Aiden’seyesgetbig.Then

he winces from the pain ofmovingthem.“But . . . but, you’vebeen

hangingoutwithhim.”“Onlybecausewe’retrying

tostayfriends.”Heslowlydropstohisbed.

“Don't you think maybe youshould’vetoldmethat?”“Iwouldhave,butyoutold

meweweregoingatourownpace.Thatyoudidn'twant tocomparetherelationships.”“I didn't know,” he says

quietly.“It doesn’t really matter,

Aiden. We didn’t trust eachother.Ishould’veknownthatyou would never do that tome,andyoushould’veknownthat I was just sexually

frustrated and that when Isaid Iwas done that I didn’tmeanit.”Idon’twanttodothis.Idonotwanttodothis.ButIhaveto.Ihavetoprotectwhat’sleft

ofmyheart.I remember when he

broughtmecake.How I sawourfuture.How I told myself I

couldn’tdoit.ThatIcouldn’tgivehimmyheart.

How if Dawson had thepotential to break my heart,crackitintwo,Aidenhasthepowertoannihilateit.I got a glimpse of that

powertoday.Of his potential to destroy

me.Andaftereverything that’s

happenedtome.I know I’m not strong

enoughtosurviveit.SoIhavetodowhat’sbest

forbothofus.

Ihavetowalkaway.“Goodbye,Aiden.”Iwalkdown the stairsand

throughthefirstfloorhallwayinahazeoftears.Andfindmyselfinfrontof

Dawson’sdoor.I stand here for a minute

andthinkaboutknocking.Itwouldbesoeasy to just

knockonhisdoor.Totellhimit’sover.TogetwhateverIwanted.Butmywantingtodomore

sexually wasn’t about justgettingmyway.Itwasaboutmore.Itwasaboutalotmore.Andbecauseofthat,Ican’t

knockonDawson’sdoor.Eventhoughitwouldbeso

easy.

Sunday,November20thWashesitaway.

8pmIdon’tleavemyroomtoday.I just lie on my bed and

stareatthebeachonmywall.The girls don’t understand

whyI’mstillsoupset.Buttheydon’tknowwhatI

feltwhenChelseatoldme.They don’t know the

crushing, twisting, burning,painful things her wordsmademefeel.They don’t know that I’m

notwhatIseem.They don’t know the truth

aboutme.About what I’ve been

through.Aboutwhat I’mstillgoing

through.How often I have to

pretend like everything isokaywhenI’msoscared.When it feels like

everythingisfallingapart.Me getting mad at Aiden

for rejecting me wasn’t justabouthimsayingno.Itwasmereactingtobeing

toldnoabouteverything.No, you can’t talk to your

friends.No,youcan’tgetonsocial

media.No,youcan’tstayhere.No,youcan’ttellanyone.No,he’llfindyou.No,youwon’tgetsolucky

thenexttime.No, you can’t see your

family.Because even your own

familyisafraidofyou.Tears fall endlessly down

myface.I want to build a mansion

oflovewithAidenmorethananything.But I’vebuiltenoughsand

castlestoknow.We’d be building that

foundationonsand.And the water always

washesitaway.

Monday,November21stRevengesexis

sweet.History

Islumpdownintomyseatinhistory.I’mwearingmygoldsparklygamedayoutfit eventhoughit’snotanactualgameday.Tomorrowistheplayoffgameandbecausewehavetoleave school early to getthere, we’re having the peprallytoday.I’m starting to get sick of

peprallies.“I take it you and Aiden

didn’tmakeup,”Rileysays.“No.We’redone.”

“Youlooklikeshit.”“Ifeellikeshit.”“He looks like shit too. I

feelbad.”“What promise did he

break,Riley?”Riley shakes his head. “It

doesn’treallymatternow.”“It doesmatter. Please tell

me.”“Hepromisedmethathe’d

neverhurtyou.”My hand goes to my

stomach, like Riley just

punched me. Because that’ssort of what it felt like. Apunchtothegut.I stare athim for aminute

before I cover my face withmyhandsandcrysilently.Rileydropsmeoffoutside

myEnglishclass.I’m never early for class,

but todayI’mthefirstone inmyseat.Theteacherwalksin,looks

at me funny, and then says,

“We’re going to dosomething fun today. Wouldyoumindputtingoneofthesehandoutsoneachdesk?”“Sure,” I reply, glad for

somethingtokeepmebusy.I’m just finishing when

DallasandKatiewalk inandsit down. Katie’s face looksflushedandhappy.“Brycewalkyoutoclass?”

Iaskher.She smiles a huge grin as

Dallas says, “They were

makingoutinthehallway.”“I heard youweremaking

out—well, more than that—withsomeoneyesterday,”sheteaseshimback.“Revenge sex is sweet,

especiallywhen it’swith herbest friend,” Dallas says,sittingupstraighter.But thenhe looks atme. “Um, exceptyoushouldn’tdothat,Kiki.Imean,youknow.Ijust...”“I’m not having revenge

sex, Dallas. I’m not having

any sex. I may move toFrancetojoinanunnery.”He hits my shoulder. “I

don’t think they’ll let girlswith stripper names into thenunnery.”His comment makes me

smileandevenlaughalittle.IloveDallas.“Do you remember that

first day?” I askhim. “Whenyouweretryingtothinkupanicknameforme?Itwasrightbefore...”

The smile fades from myfaceandIdropmychintomychest.“It’llbeokay,”Dallassays.

“Are you really going onbreak by yourself? You cancomehomewithme.”“You could come home

with me too,” Katie says.“You’re more thanwelcome.”“I appreciate that, guys.

ButthehousethatI’mstayingat has really good memories

forme.It’saplacethatIhopewillhelp...”“Helpwhat?”“Healme,maybe. I’m not

sure.And it’snot like I’ll becompletely alone. There’s afull staff. I’ll be waited onhand and foot. Mabel willmake me her famous pecanpie.We’llcookaturkey.”“Andyou’lleatitalone?”“Probably,yes.”Theyboth lookatmewith

pity.

“Don’t worry about me.Mymom goes to the spa byherself all the time. That’swhat it’sgoing tobe like forme. A spa retreat. And I’mlookingforwardtogettingmytanback.”“You don’t have to be

alone, Keatyn,” Dallas says.“What if I came with you?MaybeRileycouldcometoo.We’dhavefun.”“I appreciate the offers

more than you know, but I

reallyneedtogoalone.”

Can’tdeal.Math

Inmathclass,Logantries toreasonwithme.“Will you just talk to

him?”“Wealreadytalked.”“He’s miserable. You’re

miserable.”

“He’llgetoverit.”“I’mnotsurethathewill.”“I’m not sure that I will

either.”“See, thatmakesno sense.

He’s the good prince,Keatyn.”“Iknowheis.”I closemy eyes and shake

my head, just as I get calledto the office over the loudspeaker.Igrabmybagandhead to

theoffice.

But the closer I get, theweirderIfeel.The hairs on the back of

myneckarestandingonend.My stomach feels tied up inknots.No, I don’t feel weird. I

feelworried.Makethatscared.IsVincenthere?DidAnnie

notlisten?I don’t go to the office.

Instead,ItextCooper.

Me:Areyouinclass?Cooper:Yes.

Me:Ijustgotcalledtothe

office.I’mafraidtogo.Whatifsomeonecontactedhim?Cooper: Go somewhere

(notyourdorm)andhide.I’llgofindout.I immediately turn around

andrunasfastasIcantothe

chapel.When I get there, I find

Aiden sitting in a pew. Ourpew.Thedoorslamsbehindme,

causinghimtoturnaround.“What are you doing

here?”Iaskhim.“Justthinking.”“Youlookedlikeyouwere

praying.Isyourmomokay?”“She’s fine. Thanks for

asking.”I sit down next to him. I

know the place is full ofempty pews. I could chooseanyoneof them,but Idon’t.I’ll always be drawn to hisside.“You haven’t answered

any of my phone calls ortexts.Haveyoureadthem?”“No.Netyet.”“Soyoumight?”“Maybe.”“When?”“Onbreak.Ijustcan’tdeal

withthemrightnow.”

“I’msorryyougothurt.”Ireachupandgentlytouch

thebruiseunderhiseye.“I’msorryyougothurttoo.”He takes my hand in his

andkissesit.ButIcan’tletitaffectme.I swallow and tell myself

tomove.BecauseIknowthatIcan’t

stayhere.Because I don’t trust

myself to do what’s best forme.

If I stay, I’ll beg him tocomewithme.I’lltellhimIneedhim.ButIcan’t.Ican’t.Because what I need is to

getoverhim.Myphonebuzzes.

Cooper:Whereareyou?

Me:Chapel.

Cooper: Come to my

office.“Ihavetogo,”Isay,trying

to keep the regret out ofmyvoice.He doesn’t say anything.

Justnods.I go the back way to the

fieldhouse.Running throughthe tree line instead of downthe sidewalk. I forgot to askCooper what he found out.AlthoughI’msure ifVincentwerehere,hewouldhavetold

me.I’mbeingridiculous.But just in case, I walk

behindthebuildings.WhenIgettohisoffice,he

says,“Sitdown.”“What’swrong?”“It’s not Vincent. Peyton

had some lame excuse forwhyshehadyoucalledtotheoffice. Something aboutFrench weekend. When Ipressedher about it, she saidthatsheneededtotalktoyou

about Thanksgiving breakand you keep ignoring her. Ithought she was going withyou?”“Aiden and I are over.

There was some drama thisweekend.”“Is that the real reason

Rileypunchedhim?”“Yeah.Agirl toldme that

she and Aiden hooked up. Iwasupset.WenttoRileyandbawled. He got pissed andpunchedAiden.”

“And almost gotsuspended.”“Yeah. Needless to say,

they aren’t going with meanymore.”“You’re going by

yourself?”“Why is that such a big

deal?Iwanttogobymyself.I’m glad I’m going bymyself! I can’t freakingwait!”“I’llgowithyou.Ilikethe

beach.”

“You’re going home to bewithyourfamily.”“Idon’tlikeit.”“Nothing has changed,

Cooper. Same mode oftransportation. Samedestination. Same peoplegoing to be on staff.Everything that you alreadygotapprovedbyGarrett.Theonly thing that’s changed istheguestlist.”“That’s true. Maybe it’s

just because you seem like a

bit of a wreck. I’m worriedaboutyou.Worriedyou’lldosomething rash. Maybe Icould arrange for you to seeyour...”“Cooper, I haven’t had a

second by myself since allthishappened.Ineedtogobymyself. Now, more thanever.”“Alright. We still on for

tonight?”“Definitely.AndI’dliketo

spar,” I say as I open his

door. “Do you think I’mready?”Cooper grins at me. “I’ll

bringtheprotection.”“Seeyoutonight.”AsIroundthecorner,Isee

Whitney, scurrying—almostrunning—around the nextcorner. Which is kinda oddbecause I don’t think I’veeverseenherrun.Iskiplunch,optingtogoto

thelibrary.

But this was the wrongplacetogo.I have so many memories

ofAidenhere.Himtellingmethatwe’resortalikefate.Thathe was going to ask me tomarry him at the top of theEiffel tower at sunset.WhenhesawthetextfromDawsonabouthowhe’ddiewithoutakiss. How we sat on thebench out front and watchedourfirstsunsettogether.Ifindaremotecornerwith

two chairs that are hiddenbehind a set of stacks. I sitdown,pulloutAvery’spurpleglitterpen,andstartwriting.

Fire=Passion.French

Even though I want to skipFrench,Idon’t.But sitting in this class

sucks.Because all I can think

aboutishim.All the things he’s leaned

up andwhispered inmy ear.

The dirty words. The notesabouttrueloveandthedreamgirl.I tune out Miss Praline,

hide my phone under mydesk,andsendatext.Me: Grandma, my house

gotburneddown.Grandma:Youcanalways

rebuildahouse.Fire isa lotharder to find. (It’s justhardertocontrolsometimes.)

Hint:Fire=Passion.I also send one to

Grandpa.Me:RememberwhenJose

told me not to let boys givemeshit?Grandpa:Yes.

Me: He forgot to tell me

whattodowhenaboydoes.

Grandpa: Well, you havetwooptions.Icansendyouanice little revolver, or youcangivehimshitback.

MyGodofallHotties.4pm

I manage to get through ourdanceroutineat thepeprally

withoutcrying.ButIwanttocry.Just seeing Aiden in his

jersey makes me want tobawl.It’sthejerseythatIwore.That I was so proud to

wearonthefield.He kissed me with his

tongue because of thatjersey.I bury my face in my

pompoms so I don’t have tolookathim.

“Keatyn,” Maggie says.“You have to snap out of it.You’reactinglikeazombie.”“I am not. I was just out

theredancing.”“And now you’re

practically in tears.” Shewraps her arm around myshoulder and pullsme into ahug.“Boyssuck.”I nod, agreeing with her.

But I don’t agree. Aidendoesn’tsuck.He’sperfect.“YoumademegiveLogan

anotherchance.”“No, I didn’t. You gave

him another chance becausehemadethebiggesture.”“Do you need a big

gesture?”“No. It won’t matter,

Maggie. We fight all thetime,” I say, giving her theexcuseIgavehim.“My mom says there’s a

fine line between love andhate. That the morepassionate you get, themore

passionyouhave.”“My grandma said

something like that to metoday. That fire equalspassion.”“You and Aiden have

passion.”“Aiden and I had more

thanpassion.Wehadfire.”“Fires smolder for awhile

after they’ve been put out,you know. You aren’t donewith him. You can’t be.Keatyn, tellmenowthatyou

don’t love him and I’ll stopbuggingyou.”Ilookathim.He’s standing across the

basketball court, listening tothe coaches try to geteveryone firedup for thebiggame.Hisfaceisbruised,hishairisn’tgelled,hispostureisoff, his green eyes aren’tsparkling, and there’s nobeamingsmileonhisface.Buthestilllookslikeagod

tome.MyGodofallHotties.

Little tears fall down myface.Iwipethemawayquickly.“You’recryingjustlooking

athim.Iknowyoulovehim.”Iclosemyeyesandnod.“Sowhy don’t you talk to

him?”“I did earlier. It’s over,

Maggie.Ithastobe.”“I’msurprisedyouhaven’t

hookedupwithDawson.”“I wish I could. It would

makethisawholeloteasier.”

Afriendlyvoice.7pm

I skip dinner. The girlsoffered to stay and order inpizza, but I told them to gowithout me. I wouldn’t bevery good company. No onereally argued with me. Aceand Annie will be apart for

Thanksgiving break, as willKatie and Bryce. They aretrying to spend every lastminutetogether.I scroll through my phone

andhitDamian’snumber.“Hey,Keats.”“Hey.”“Oh,boy.What’swrong?”“Nothing. Just wanted to

hearafriendlyvoice.”“Are you excited to go to

St.Croix?”“Very.”

“Who all is going withyou?”“Um,noone,actually.”“You’re spending

Thanksgivingalone?”“Yeah.”“Ithought...”“Itdidn’tworkout.”“Oh,I’msorry.Maybeyou

shouldinviteB.”“No. I . . . I couldn’t deal

withhimrightnow.”“Keats, you’re scaringme.

What’sgoingon?”

“I’m fine. Just a littlebroken.ButI’vebeenbrokenforawhile.I’mlikeachiponyourwindshield.”“Idon’tgetit.”“Youknowhowwhenyou

get a rock chip, it seemsminor?Butthenafewweekslateryouseethatthechiphasspread. Then a few weeksafter that, yourwindshield isruined. I’machip thatdidn’tgetfixed.”“Andnowyou’reruined?”

“Prettymuch.Damian,willyousingtome?”“Yeah, Keats. Lie down

andcloseyoureyes.”

Ilikeitrough.11:30pm

As soon as Katie startsbreathing heavily, I sneakinto my closet and changeintomyworkoutclothes.“So, what’s your holiday

tradition?” I ask Cooperwhile I’m putting on someprotectivegear.“Um,well,weeataturkey

dinner and then go to mysister’sgrave.Shewaskilledtwo days beforeThanksgiving.”“I’msosorry,Cooper.”“I know,” he says,

throwing me a pair of redgloves.Wewalkoutintothecenter

of themat and he tellsme a

bunch of rules like we’re inanactualcompetition.“Is this like a match? Are

wekeepingscore?”“Youtapout,youlose.”We bump gloves, and I

showhimallthatI’velearnedfrom him in the last fewweeks.And I’m doing well. I’m

connecting with a lot of mypunches, and I’ve evenmanagedtogethimdownonthegroundtwice.

And, more importantly,he’syettotakemedown.“That’sit,”hesays,egging

meon.“Getonit.”I’m breathing heavily and

sweating.“Uhh.Uhh.Uhh,”IgruntasIthrowathree-punchcombination.“That’sit.YouknowIlike

itrough,”heteases.He throws a right-handed

punch toward my ribs. Iquickly grab his forearm andtwist it, bringing him to his

knees.“Do it harder,” he says.

“Youwantmefacedown.”All of a sudden, the gym

doorsswingopen.“See, I told you they’re

havinganaffair...”Whitneysays to the dean, who she’spulledinsidewithher.Wepullourfaceguardsoff

andgo,“Awhat?!”The dean says, “Clearly,

you were mistaken, MissClarke.Why don’t you head

backtoyourdorm.I’lltakeitfromhere.”“Buttheyweregoneonthe

same two days. I gave youpicturesofthemsneakingofftogether. He’s even holdingherhandinonephoto.And...”“MissClarke.”“It’s more than an affair.

She was pregnant with hisbaby. That’s why they wereboth gone the sameday. Shehadanabort—”

The dean says, “That’senough accusations, MissClarke. Get to your dorm oryou’ll get a detention forbeingoutaftercurfew.”“But she’s out after

curfew!”“Now!”hesays.Whitney gives me an evil

glare and stomps out. Thedean shuts the door behindher,saying,“I’llexpecttoseeyouinmyofficefirstthinginthemorning.”

Thenheturnstous.“Now,obviously, you’re not havinganaffair.Butyou,Mr.Steele,are out alone with a studentafter curfew. That’s againstschoolpolicy.”"It'smyfault,sir,”Isay.“Howso?”“I asked him to teach me

how to fight. Withhomework, rehearsals, andother activities, right aftercurfewwas theonly timewecouldmeet."

“Andwhy do you need toknowhowtofight?Wedon’thave too many street brawlshereatEastbrooke.”“Um, well, I'm hoping

eventually that will beclassified.”Cooperstiflesachuckle.“What?”thedeanasks.“I’mgoodwith languages,

sir. I'm a good actress. I'msmart and athletic.Whenwedid our career surveys withour counselor,mine cameup

with a career that I’m reallyinterested in. A CIAoperative. I've always readspynovelsandrealizeditwastotally, like,my calling.AndMiss Praline told me all thestuffIneededtostartworkingon now, because it’s reallytoughtogetselected.”I turn to Cooper. “Even

you’ve heard that, right,CoachSteele?”Cooper flasheshisdimples

at me and nods at the dean.

“Thatiscorrect.”“And I think I’m mostly

prepared except for twothings.Ineedtolearnhowtoprotectmyselfand,ofcourse,I’llneedtolearnhowtoshoota gun. After soccer one day,Coach Steele was punchingthe bag in the gym, and Iremembered that he was anaccomplished MMA fighter.SoIaskedhimtoteachme.”“Begged him,” Cooper

counters.

“Yes, beggedhim to teachme. And it’s good for himtoo. Like, so he can keep upwithhisskills.”Cooper rolls his eyes and

shakeshishead.But I continue. “And that

day we were both gone. I'msorry if it was inappropriatefor us to go together, butthere was this fight. InAtlanticCity.”“I wanted her to see it in

person. I didn't think she

really understood thesavagenessofitall.”“He's not going to get in

trouble, is he? He's a reallygoodsoccercoach.”Dean shakes his head at

me.“TheCIA?”“Yes,sir.”“Interesting. Do you have

muchleftofyourlesson?”Cooper looks at the clock

on thewall. “About 10moreminutes.”“IthinkI’llstayandwatch

therest,then.”“Awesome,” I say, loving

the idea of having anaudience.“YoucantellmeifI'm any good. Coach SteelesaysthatIstillsuck.”The dean sits in a chair,

whilewepullourfacemasksback down and get intoposition.Cooperquicklystrikes,but

I’m ready for him with ablock. Then I grab his arm,spin under him and elbow

himintheribs.Whenwe’redone,thedean

offerstowalkmebacktomydorm.“SoisthatCIAstuffreally

true?”heasksme.“Yes,sir.Itis.Youcanask

MissPraline.”“Iwill,”hesays.

Tuesday,November22ndThatbirdthing.

History I get a long text fromGrandma.

Grandma:Iheardaquote

at the hair salon thismorning.Oneofthosewomenhasa facepageand thatbirdthing. She has been chirpingor twittering or something.Weweretalkingaboutgettingolderandhowthisapplies tous, but I also think it’s goodadviceforanyage.Lifeisnotmeasuredbythe

quantity of breaths we take,

but rather by the momentsthattookourbreathaway.Your Grandpa took my

breathawaywhen I firstmethim. And when he asked metomarryhimonahorseback,I knew, even before heproposed, that somethingspecialwasabout tohappen,but it still took my breathaway. His reaction when Itoldhim Iwaspregnantwithyour father. The first time I

saw him holding your fatherinhisarms.Icouldgoonandon.Mypointis,ifsomeoneisspecial enough to take yourbreath away on numerousoccasions, keep them in yourlife.EveniftheyareapainintheasslikeyourGrandpa...I think about themoments

that have taken my breathaway.When I saw Gracie right

aftershewasborn.When Avery first said, I

wuvyou,Kiki.When B helped me catch

myfirstbigwave.When he told me I was

desirable.Whenhetoldmethewaves

didn’tmissme,hedid.When we were in the

hammock and he told me helovedme.When we watched the

sunrise every time we went

outsurfing.When my little sisters all

gave me gifts before I camehere.WhenIsawAiden’sfacein

thegoal.When I accidentally

brushedintohimatthecafé.When he gave me the

clover.When he kissedme on the

Ferriswheel.When I saw the twinkle

lights.

When he told me he wasgoingtoaskmetomarryhimsomeday.When he said it was fate

thatIwashere.When we watched the

sunset.Whenhedancedatthepep

rally.When he brought me the

cake.Whenhestoodinmyloft.Whenwewereinthelimo.When he woke me up by

rubbingmyface.Icouldgoonandon.Aiden has been takingmy

breathawayfromthemomentIlaideyesonhim.

Solelyforherentertainment.

Lunch

Somehow, by the time lunchrolls around, everyone isaware of the fact thatWhitneywronglyaccusedmeand Cooper of having anaffair. The rumor mill isgoing crazy and a simplemistake is takingona lifeofits own. I’ve heard that’sshe’s been out to get me allyear. That she’s jealous ofme. That she’s mad PeytonandIarefriends.Thatshedidit because I dated Dawson.

That she wanted Cooper forherself. That Cooper turnedher down. That she’sdropping out of Eastbrooke.That she’s going to besuspended after break. Thatshetoldthedeantoshoveit.Allarepossible,Isuppose,

butitalljustseemsabitoff.In fact, it remindsmeof a

publicitystunt.Iwanderthroughthelunch

line looking for somethingappetizingandendupwithan

appleandapieceofchocolatecake. I go sit down witheveryone and look at them.KatieandBryce,MaggieandLogan,Annie andAce, Jake,Dawson, Peyton, Shark, andAiden, all smiling andhappily discussing theirholidayplans.Well,exceptforAiden.He

looksasmiserableasIfeel.I glance away from him,

not wanting to make eyecontact and accidentally get

caughtinhistractorbeams.Instead,Peytoncatchesmy

eye with hers. She smirks atme and then darts her eyestoward the popular tablewhereWhitneyisjustgettingreadytositdown.Alone.Dawson, Bryce, Peyton,

andthelastremainingminionaren’tthere.Peyton knew thatWhitney

thought we were having anaffair. I told her about my

lessons.SheknewifWhitneyaccusedme,Iwouldn’tgetintrouble.I lookat thesmug lookon

Peyton’sface.Andknowthatsheset this

up.Because this is exactly

whatshewanted.Whitney sitting on her

throneallbyherself.I’m not sure what Peyton

expected,butWhitneydoesn't

looktheleastbitupset.She’ssitting with her shouldersbackandherheadheldhigh.Sheevenlooksoutattherestof the room like we’re heresolelyforherentertainment.Although I didn’t see

Vanessa and RiAnne whentheyweresittingaloneatourlunch table the day I threwthe party, I know without adoubt that Vanessa lookedjustlikethat.AndIgetup.

Peyton grabs my arm andsays,“Whereareyougoing?”“She’s sitting there all by

herself.”“You’re going to sit with

herafterwhat shedid toyoulast night? She tried to getyouexpelled!”“WhydoIfeel likemaybe

she had someencouragement? You wantedthis. You’ve been slowlychipping away at the tablesinceHomecoming.Butwhat

you don’t understand is thatit’sgoingtobackfireonyou.”I stop and study her smugsmile.Hercrossedarms.Hercocky attitude. I shake myhead at her and say sadly,“Actually, it already has. Inyour quest to get back at herfor being a bitch, you’vebecome a bigger bitch thansheis.”Iignorethegaspsfrommy

friendsoverwhatIjustsaid.AndIknowalleyesareon

mewhen Iwalkover and sitdownacrossfromWhitney.“You’re the last person I

thought would sit with metoday,” she says, not eventryingtohidehersurprise.“Sometimes people

surpriseyou.”“Do people ever surprise

you?” she asks, glancing atPeyton.“Yeah.Allthetime.”Shelookswistfulwhenshe

says,“Metoo.”

“Peyton hasn’t exactlybeensubtle,hasshe?”Whitney shakes her head.

“No. Part of why she couldneverbetheAlpha.She’stooafraid to challenge mestraight up or to even juststandupforherself.WhydoIgetthefeelingthatthisisnota new situation for you? Atyour old school, were youlikeme?”I chuckle, remembering.

“No.IwaslikePeyton.”

“Now that really surprisesme. You’re the only personhere who has the balls tochallenge me.” She lowersher head for a moment andthen meets my eyes. “I’msorryaboutlastnight.Ireallythought there was somethinggoing on with you andCooper. Some of the thingshe said to you, I was almostscared. I reallywasn’t tryingtogetyouintrouble.”Iraiseaneyebrowather.

She stops and laughs.“That’s a complete lie. Ithought you were the reasonmy life had gone to shit thisyear.Irealizenowthatithadnothingtodowithyou.WhenI told Peyton that I thoughttherewassomethinggoingonwith you and Cooper, sheadded fuel to the fire. Eventoldmewhere youwould belastnight.”“She’stryingtobeherown

personorsomething.”

“She’s not being a verygoodfriend,”shesayswithaslight frown. “But you couldbe. I’vebeen causing troublefor you all year. I shouldn’thave.Iamsorryaboutthat.”“Thankyou.”Shegrabsherphone,hitsa

few buttons, and smiles.“You should grab somepopcorn. The fun's about tobegin.”“What fun?” I ask as my

phone buzzes with a photo

textfromablockednumber.Iclickittomakeitbigger.There’s a screenshot of

Chelsea posing topless andcorresponding texts of heroffering herself to Jake and,thankfully, him turning herdown.My phone keeps buzzing

andbuzzing.As do most of the phones

inthecafé.I scroll throughevenmore

screenshots of her offering

herselfuptodifferentguys.All ofwhomhappen tobe

the boyfriends of her fellowcheerleaders.Audiblegaspsrisefromthe

cheerleaders’table.Andthenthetableeruptsin

havoc.Girls start crying. Yelling

at Chelsea. Calling hernames. Flashing her toplessand naked pictures around.Then yelling at theirboyfriends. Stomping out.

One even grabs her hair andis pulling it, until thelunchroom attendant blows awhistle.“Allofyou.Allyoupeople

at THIS table. To the office,immediately!”From the other table,

Dallas catches my eye andwinksatme.Itexthim.

Me: Did you have

somethingtodowiththis?

Dallas:Whome?

Me:Didyou?

Dallas: They say guns

don’tkillpeople,peopledo.Me: What does that have

todowithanything?Dallas: I didn’t shoot the

gun, Kiki. Just provided theammo.

Me: You teamed up with

Whitney?Dallas: From what I can

tell, you just did too. I’mproud of you, by the way.This isn’t how either of usexpectedittogodown.“Whitney, how did you

expectthistogodown?”“I’m not sure what you’re

talking about. But if I had

planned something with afriend, neither one of uswould’vepredictedforyoutocome sit here with me.You’re a way bigger personthaneitherofusthought.Andthat’s saying a lot, becauseDallasthinksprettyhighlyofyou.”I look back at Dallas and

smile.“Oh, oh,” Whitney says,

glancing toward Chelsea,who has started marching in

ourdirection.“Iknowyoudid this!”she

yells, waving her phone atme.“Chelsea,Ididn’t...”Whitney interrupts and

says in a lazy tone, “I’m sosorry this happened to you.You should definitely takethosephotostothedean.I’msure if you could proveKeatyn sent them, she’dprobably get, like, what? Adetentionorsomething.”

“Yeah, right. And I’d getexpelled.” Chelsea narrowsher gaze atme then runs outofthecafé.“I can't believe you did

that.”“Did what?” Whitney

replieswithasmile.

Ourluck.1pm

After all the drama at lunch,I’m ready to get on the busfor the three-hour ride toupstate New York for thesecond playoff game. I sitnext to Maggie on the bus,listening to her gossip andgush about Logan. When hestarts texting her, I put myheadphones in and close myeyes.And,yes,I’magluttonfor

punishment.Ilistentothe29-songplaylist.

If I were my friend, Iwould tell myself to stoplistening to it. That I’m justprolonging my own agony.But, at the same time, I’mkindofproudofmyself.I’venever done the wallowingafterabreakupthingbefore.Where yougo though all thenotes, movie stubs, andphotos from your timetogether.Cryoverthem.Andthenburnthem.RiAnne would do that

whenshehadabadbreakupandIneverunderstoodwhy.Now,Ido.It’s part of the grieving

process.It’stherapeutic.Healing.I feel Maggie shift in the

seat and then a finger pokesme.I open my eyes to find

Peytonsittingnexttome,hereyesshimmeringwithtears.I pull my earbuds out as

she says, “You’re right. Ihave become the biggestbitchofall.AndIdon’twanttobeabitch.”Iwrapmyarmaroundher

and pull her into a hug. “Iknowyoudon’t.It’snotwhoyouare.”She cries and shakes her

head.“It’snotme.Iwasjust.. . I was just trying to getback at her. Iwanted to hurther, but I didn’t. I justmadehermyenemy.”

“You need to talk to her.Tell her how you felt andwhyyoudidit.Doyouknowwhyyoudidit?”“I was afraid I was going

to turn into a bitch. I wasgoing alongwith her when Ishould’vestooduptoher.”“But...”“ButIshouldhaverealized

I was mad at myself for nothavingthecouragetodowhatwasright.”“You’ve got to learn to

loveyourself.”She nods in agreement. “I

really wish me and Aidencould...”“Please,don’tsayit.”“He’s really upset,

Keatyn.”“Me too,” I reply, putting

my earbuds back in andhaltingourconversation.Theplayoffgameisclose.Backandforthscoring.As the end nears, you

know that whoever ends upwith the ball last willprobablywin.And whoever is our team.

Riley, who has started everygame since Dawson gotbanged up, runs time off theclock until there are only afewticksleft.Aidengoesout tokick the

winningfieldgoal.He lines up, takes two

steps over, makes the four-leaf clover symbol with his

hands,andkickstheball.I pray that it goes through

theuprights.Pray that even though

we’re not together fate willstill allow our luck to workforhim.Butitdoesn’t.The ball hits the upright

andbouncesout.

Stupidglow.

12:30amIt’s late when we get backfromthelongbusridehome.I’m packing when Maggiebarrelsintomyroom.“I really need you and

Katie’shelp,”shesays.“Withwhat?”“Iordered abunchofnew

dresses but I can’t decidewhich ones I should take.We’re doing dinner at my

house and then going to hishousethenextday.Iwant tolookperfect.”“Come on,” Katie says,

pulling me out of the room.Then she whispers, “Let’sstop and get some cookies. Ithink this is gonna take awhile.”Westopat thekitchenand

thengotoMaggie’sroom.IwatchasMaggie trieson

five different dresses andparades across the room in

them.“Whatdoyouthink?”“I like the secondone and

fifth one. But I didn’t likeshoes you had on with thefifth one. It needs tights andboots.”“Oh, that would be cute,”

Katie agrees. “Try it backon.”She puts it back on, gets

twothumbsup,giveseachofusahug,andletsusgobacktoourroom.

As usual,Katie passes out

quickly.I’mjealousofherabilityto

fallasleepsofast.Ifinishmypacking,double

check that I have mypassport, and then lie in mybed.I closemy eyes and try to

sleep but I can’t because the29-songplaylist isplaying inmyhead.Maybe I shouldn’t have

listened to it for three hoursstraight.I open my eyes and stare

up at the ceiling, forgettingaboutthestars.But then I see a moon

glowing directly above myhead.Areyoukiddingme?Thatmust bewhyMaggie

had a fake fashion crisistonight.Shewantedmeoutofmy room. She thinks this islikethebiggesture.

But,it’snot.I close my eyes tightly to

shut out the sight of themoon,butevenwithmyeyesclosed I can feel the moonmockingme.“I officially hate you!” I

say to the moon. “I nevershould have made a stupidwishonyou!”I stand up on my bed, rip

themoonoff theceiling,andthen toss it on my bedsidetable so Iwon’thave to look

atit.Iliebackdown.Tossandturn.Trytogetcomfortable.ButIcan't.Becausethedamnmoonis

glowingfrommytable.I slammyphone downon

topofit.Stillglowing.Fuckingmoon.I grab it, shove it intomy

purse, zip the purse uptightly, and then throw it

acrosstheroom.Killing the moon and

hidingitsstupidglow.

Wednesday,November23rdWritemynameinthesand.

10am

I’m not sure why it’snecessary to have a partialschool day today becauseeveryone, including theteachers, has mentallycheckedoutalready.I’ve checked out because

something amazing hashappened.I’mprettysurethatwhenIyelledatthemoonlastnight,itreversedmywish.Because for the first time

sinceIcamehere,I’mabletowrite down a script for my

perfectlife.

FADEIN:MALIBUBEACHA YOUNG COUPLE IS

STANDINGINTHEMOONLIGHTON THE UPSCALE PRIVATEBEACH OF THE MALIBUCOLONY. PANNING SHOT OFTHE OCEAN WAVESSHIMMERING IN THEMOONLIGHT.

MALELEAD:YETTOBE

CAST(TakingKeatyn’shand

inhis)

HappyBirthday.

KEATYN

(Leansintokisshim)It’sbeenalongyear.

MALELEAD:YETTOBE

CASTButwe’rehere.

Togetheronthebeach.That’sallthatmatters.

KEATYN

Thatandthestalkerisinjail.

MALELEAD:YETTOBE

CASTIwasworriedwhenhekidnappedyou.

KEATYN

I’mjustgladit’sover,andsohappywe’re

together.

MALELEAD:YETTOBECAST

(Grinsadorably)ThereweretimeswhenI

didn’tknowifwe’dmakeit.We’vebothgrownupalot.It’slikeeverything

andnothinghaschanged.

KEATYN

We’vechanged.Ourlovehasn’t.

MALELEAD:YETTOBE

CASTItoldyoufatewouldbringustogether.

KEATYN

Ididn’tbelieveyou.

MALELEAD:YETTOBE

CASTIt’snotwhereyou’ve

beenthatmatters;it’swhereyouendupthat

does.Wannaknowasecret?

KEATYN

Ofcourse.

MALELEAD:YETTOBE

CASTIwishedforthis.

KEATYN

Whatdoyoumean?

MALELEAD:YETTOBE

CAST

Imadeawishonthemoon.Foryou.

KEATYN

(Happytearsstreamdownherface)

Iwishedonthemoontoo.Formyperfectboy.

MALELEAD:YETTOBE

CAST(Brushesawayher

tears)Athingofbeautyisa

joyforever.

KEATYN

Youtoldmethatbefore.IthoughtitmeantIwaspretty.

MALELEAD:YETTOBE

CASTWhatdoyouthinkit

meansnow?

KEATYN

Ithinkitmeansloveisathingofbeauty.

MALELEAD:YETTOBE

CASTWe’reathingof

beauty.Iloveyou.

KEATYN

Iloveyoutoo.

(Theysharetruelove’s

kiss)

THEEND

ROLLCREDITS

I stop and tap my pen on

mynotebook.At my birthday party, I

wanted to bring my twoworlds together. Surfer

friendsandschoolfriends.Could I combine my East

coast friends with my Westcoastfriends?I shake my head and wad

upthepaper.Noneofitmattersnow.BecauselastnightImadea

decision.Loganpokeshisfingerinto

myshoulder.“I need to tell you

something.” He hangs hisheadandlooksguilty.

“What’swrong?”“Remember when Aiden

scored the points for you?You danced 29 dances underthe twinkle lights that Ihelpedhimputup.”“Iremember.Ididn’tknow

youhelped,though.Thatwasniceofyou.”“Do you remember how

youfreakedoutwhenhetoldyoutheKeatsquote?”“Yes, Logan, I remember

theentirenight.”

“And do you rememberthathedidn’tcallyouafter?”I can’t talk about Aiden,

his dances, or the twinklelights.Iblowmybangsupoffmy face and try not to cry.“Yes.Iremember.”“Itupsetyou,right?”“Yes,itupsetme.”“Itoldhimnottocallyou.”I fully turn around. “Why

didyoudothat?”“Because I was down on

love.Maggiewouldn’ttalkto

me. She started hanging outwithParkeragain.AndAidenwas all giddy about you. Itpissed me off. And once hetoldmeaboutyourreactiontothe quote and your sort ofboyfriend,Itoldhimitwasn’tworth it. That love wasn’tworth it. That true love wasbullshit and so was love atfirstsight.”Iblowoutthebreathofair

I’ve been holding. “Did hewanttocallme?”

“Yes.”I shake my head. “It

wouldn’thavemattered.”“Areyoumadatme?”“No, Logan. I completely

understand. And the endresult would’ve been thesame.”“You made me forgive

Maggie and she slept withsomeone else. Aiden didn’tdoanythingwrong.”Thankfully, the bell rings,

ending our school day and

officially starting myvacation.“Have a good break,

Logan,”IsayasIwalkoutofclass.Ithrowafewthingsinmy

tote bag, givemy friends thekind of hugs you givesomeone when you knowyou’renotgoing to see themagain, say a few goodbyes,and, at a little after noon, Ihopinmyprearrangedcarfor

thequicktriptotheairport.When I get to the airport,

my jet is waiting for me onthetarmac.It’ssuchawelcomesight.My mom says when she

goes to the spa in PalmSprings by herself that it’sgood for her soul. And Iknow for sure that going onthistripbymyselfisgoingtobejustthat.Goodformysoul.And I’m really looking

forward to being completelyby myself. No one to worryaboutbutme.IcandowhateverIwant.AndI’mgoingtodoit.I’ve even made a list. A

miniature script of myvacation.Where I commune with

nature. Eat fish I caughtmyself. Do yoga on thebeach. Swim with thedolphins. Macramé myself apair of sandals. Make a

necklace out of shells.Writemynameinthesand.Buildasandvillage.Drinkmilkfroma coconut. Lie in thehammock and read. Collectfruitfromthetreesandmakemyowntropicalsmoothies.Make that spiked

smoothies.Wanderdownthebeach.Findahotguy.Shit.No.Noguys.IrememberVanessatelling

methat.Howit’sexpected.

But I’m not going to dothat.Ican’tdothat.I can’t jump from one

relationshiptothenext.I did that every time

Brooklynhurtme.Coming to Eastbrooke has

beenreallygoodformeinsomanyways.I’m stronger. Smarter.

Nicer.Tougher.Happierwithmyself.I’m doing things that I

love.I knowwhat I want to do

withmylife.I’ve finally become the

kind of girl my little sisterscouldlookupto.Exceptforthelies.Lying to my friends is

killingme.AndthelongerI’mthere—

thecloserweget—themoreIfeellikeI’mbeingeatenfromtheinsideout.IfIgobacktoEastbrooke,

I’llendupnothingbutashell.Last night I went over it

fromeverydifferentangle.Tried to imagine every

differentreaction.How theywould react if I

toldthem.How they would react if

someoneelsetoldthem.ButnomatterhowI try to

spinitinmybrain.Theoutcomeisalways the

same.Ourtrustwouldbebroken.

They’reallamazing.AndIknow they would understandwhyIhadtolie.What they won’t

understand is why I didn’ttrustthemenoughtotellthemmysecret.That’s what will kill their

trust.AndAiden.I can’t even imagine how

Aidenwouldreact.He’dbecrushed.I’dbecrushed.

Anditwouldberuined.Vincent is like a massive

natural disaster. A hurricane,a tornado, and an earthquakeallrolledintoone.And nothing can survive

that.EspeciallynotEastbrooke.SoI’mnotgoingback.

Ipullmywalletoutofmy

bag to grab a tip for thedriver. As I do, the glow-in-the dark moon tumbles onto

mylap.“What the hell?” I say,

noticingforthefirsttimethatthere’swritingonit.Iflipitsidewaysandread.

TheEnd

adoremeTheKeatyn

Chronicles:Book4.5AThanksgivingbreaknovella

ComingNovember23rd.

Clickheretopre-order.

**Onceagain,

theendingofthisbookwas

probablyabitofashock.

I’dliketoask

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Iwantallreaderstobeassurprisedasyouwereattheend.Thankssomuch

forunderstanding<3

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And...ifyouneedtotalkabouttheendingandtheseries,orarejustsufferingfromhottieoverload,ormaybe,inthe

caseofthisbook,ahottiehangover,pleaseknowthatthereishelp.

JointheKeatynChronicles

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websiteforaddedcontent:clothes,playlists,dream

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OtherbooksbyJillianDodd

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AcknowledgementsI’m just gonna assume thatthis book was as tough foryou to read as itwas formetowrite.ButthisisKeatyn’sstory.Herstoryofgrowth.

Her story of becoming thekind of person she wants tobe.I think it’s easy to get socaughtupintheromancethatwe forget just how oftenKeatynisforcedtoact.Actlikeshe’snormal.Lielikeit’sthetruth.Pretendtoholditalltogetherwhenitfeelslikeherworldisfallingapart.The theme of this book,obviously, was Keatyn

learningtoloveherself.To be strong. To not need aboyinherlife.Todowhatisright forher.Tostandupforherself.And, hopefully, you can seehowmuchshe’sgrowninjustthefewmonthssincewefirstmetherinStalkMe.AndwhileIcan’treleaseanydetails of the novella, I cantellyouthis.Ican’twaittowriteit!Because it’s going to be a

fun, happy, romantic,relaxing-on-the-beachbook.Allthecharactersintheseriesaregrowingandchanging.AndIcanpromiseyouthis.Keatynwillgetherwish.At the end of the series, shewillbeonthebeachwithherperfectboy.AndIknowyouwill all love him asmuch asshedoes.So if you are along for theride, thank you. Thank you

forreadingmystories.Thankyou for telling your friendsabout them. Thank you forreviewingtheminawaythatwillnotspoilthemforothers.And thankyou, somuch, fornot uploading them to theinternet.AhugethankyougoesouttoThe Keatyn ChroniclesAddicts group. You ladiesbring me joy every singleday. Just the fact that these

characters are stuck in yourhead and you want to talkabout and analyze them isalmosthardformetobelieve.When I sat down and wrotemy first book, that’s all Iwanted. For my writing toaffectyou.It’ssohardformetobelievethatlessthanayearago the group started withabout five people. Thanks toMelissaandMireyaforbeingamazing moderators andmaking the group fun and

welcoming! And specialshout outs to contest winnerfortheNametheRivalryandName Vincent’s filmcompanycontests:Nicole fortheCompassCup,PernillefortheWesterfield Cheetahs andthePussy Bowl, andMelissafor A Breath Behind YouFilms.As usual, thanks to myamazing beta readers, thebloggers who constantly

supportmybooks,andallthereaders and authors that Ihave been blessed to meet.Jen,Rebecca,andMolly,youladies are everything I aspiretobe.AndIcouldn’tdoanyofthiswithout my family. Scotty,thanksforsomehowknowingthe perfect moment to bringme wine. Thank you for nothavingmecommittedwhenIsitatmycomputertypingand

crying. Thank you for notcomplaining that we eat outallthefreakingtime.Kenzie,sweetie, I couldn’t functionwithout you and amnot surehow I’m going to stand youbeing away at school. LikeKeatyn,youaregrowingintoan amazing young womanand I’m so incredibly proudof you. Connor, theinspiration for BanditPublishing, you can alwaysmakemelaugh.I’mgoingon

record as saying that Ipromisetocookyoudinneratleastthree,uh,maybetwiceaweekthisnextyear.Like,I’mprettysure-ish.

AbouttheAuthor:

JillianDoddgrewupinNebraska,whereshedevelopedalovefor

storytelling,Huskerfootball,andMidwesternboys.

ShecurrentlyresidesinTexaswithherfamily.

FollowJillonherwebsiteandblog:Glitter,Bliss,and

PerfectChaos.SignuphereforJillian’snewsletter.

PhotobyNatalieKnabeofNatalieKPhotography.FlowerMound,Texas