Date Me (The Keatyn Chronicles)

After auditions, I have a little time before curfew, so Dawson leaves the JV game and meets me in his room.

“I think my tryout went pretty well.”

"Speaking of pretty . . ." He kisses my neck hard, unbuttons my blouse, and grins. "This is the bra from the day at the library."

"You have an obsession with bras. What are you, like thirteen?" I laugh, but I love that he likes them.

He throws me on the bed and shakes his head. "I know a lot more now than when I was thirteen."

My phone buzzes with a text and I peek at it over his shoulder.

"Dawson! Ohmigawd! Yay! I got a callback!"

"A what?"

"A callback. From the director! I mean, the drama coach!"

"What does that mean?"

"It means he liked my tryout enough to want me to read another scene tonight, probably with one of the princes to see if we have chemistry on stage."

"Chemistry? Like the kissing parts?"

"It's not just the kissing. It's are we believable to the audience? Am I a good enough actress to pretend like I have feelings for him? Haven't you ever seen a movie where two people are supposed to fall in love but you just can't picture them together? I mean, take Twilight for example. I think when most people read the book they loved Edward. But when the first movie came out a lot of people started switching to Team Jacob because it felt like they had good chemistry." I laugh. "And, well, his abs didn't hurt either."

"But aren't the people who played Edward and Bella a couple in real life?"

"I'm not sure, but I think they were a couple during some of the filming."

"So, some people do fall in love with their co-stars." He hangs his head a little.

I wrap my arms around his neck. "Dawson, I love you. Please don't be jealous."

He pushes me back a little to read my face.

"Is Jake just giving me shit?"

"Yes."

"It's just he has Whitney, and I was a little nervous he'd get you too."

"You're jealous Jake has Whitney?"

He runs his hand through his hair and sighs. "No, it's just he was telling Bryce and Tyrese about other night. About how she was drunk. How hot the sex was. I guess she's different with him."

"Our sex is different than it was with you and her, it would stand to reason that theirs would be different too,” I say, even though I know that Jake was talking about sex with Peyton, not Whitney.”

"Yeah, I guess. Maybe she just wasn't that attracted to me."

Knowing what I know about her wanting his brother instead, I'd say he's probably right. "Not to bring up my past, but I'm not the same with you as I have been before. You make me feel a whole lot sexier."

He tries to pull my bra off. "You are sexier."

“And I have to go. I’ll call you when I get back to my dorm.”





Friday, September 30th

Stranded on second base.

Breakfast



I’m sitting at breakfast with Riley and Dallas.

“So, I’m giving up on boobs.” Dallas says.

Riley is like, “You going gay, dude?”

“Ah, no. But apparently some girl complained to a teacher about it, like I was sexually harassing her or some shit.”

“That’s kinda lame,” I say.

“It’s not like you were touching them or anything. Were you?” Riley asks.

“Naw, I mean, not unless she wanted me to later.” Dallas grins. “But I decided that basically the psychic panty network and the boob guessing were really just pickup lines. Ways to talk to a girl, get her attention.”

I nod my head. “I could see that.”

“So, I have a new approach.”

“Oh, boy, what’s that?”

“I’m going to try a different pickup line every few days.”

“Interesting idea.”

“Maybe we could go off campus and try out a few,” Riley suggests.

“Riley, are you trying to meet new girls? I thought you were crazy about Ariela?”

“I am, but, shit. I told you. I’m stranded on second base. I haven’t been stranded on second base since seventh grade!”

“Which means you like her.”

“Yeah, maybe. We’ll see.”

I turn to Dallas. “So does it start today? What’s your line? Try it out on me.”

“I can’t just say it. I need to work it into the conversation.”

The bells rings, reminding us it's time to head to our first class.

"I'll walk over and refill my coffee. You come up to me and say it.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Fine.”

“Wait,” Riley says. “I’m going to get coffee with her. I gotta hear this.”

Riley and I wander up to the coffee thermoses, refill our cups, and then turn to walk to class.

Dallas saunters up next to me. He’s wearing a very cute smile. It's the smile I noticed the first day, when I decided to go sit by him. He stops and lays his hand gently on my forearm.

I stop walking and give him a confused look.

He grins at me and says, “I just have to ask. Did you have Lucky Charms for breakfast this morning?”

"Uh, no. Why?"

"Cuz you look magically delicious.”

I can’t help it. I grin back at him and laugh. Because if I didn’t have a boyfriend, I would totally fall for that.

“I didn’t have Lucky Charms,” I say, “but now I wish I would have. You should say that to Katie today. It’d probably melt her panties off.”

Riley hits Dallas on the back as he walks off to his first class. "I thought that was pretty lame.”

"Only because you didn't think of it first." They both laugh, then Riley turns to me. "So I hear you asked Ariela to go shopping with you. Now Dallas and I will be stuck here alone."

"Why don't you go to Columbia with Dawson?”

"Dawson is going to Columbia?" He raises his eyebrows at me.

"Yeah."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Uh, I think so. Should I not be okay with that?”

"Camden is . . . well, he's trouble."

"Trouble, how?"

"I know what goes on there. Cam knows a lot of girls. Gets a lot of girls."

I squint my eyes trying to follow. Then I realize what he's not saying and my eyes get big. "You think he's going to cheat on me?"

"Cam is an awesome brother, but he can be a dick. All I ever wanted was to be like him." He sighs. "Part of why I got kicked out of school."

"You need to tell me what happened."

"I was told to never speak of it again," he says seriously.

"By who?"

"The dean."

"Oh. So you can't tell me?"

"Maybe some other time." He laughs. "It's a pretty epic story, really. I can't believe I'm sitting here saying all this. What the hell did you do to me?"

"What I did to you?"

"Yeah, I'm turning into Dawson. p-ssy whipped but getting no p-ssy."

I smile at him. "You like Ariela. She's going to be so excited tonight. I can't wait."

"It was cool of you to ask her to go shopping with you. I'd like it if you were friends."

"I know. That's why I asked. So you really think your brother is going to cheat on me? He's, um, not really in the same situation as you."

Riley punches my shoulder. "He's whipped, all right."

I nod my head. "I meant the other part."

“Unfortunately, he’s been rubbing that part in. Not details. Just how hot you make him, that kind of thing. Although he’s not very excited about you may be doing the play. I heard you got called back to read with Jake and Logan."

“I did. Jake and I have good chemistry on stage and Logan seems to kind of hate me, which, really, is perfect for the part. He’s going to pretend to like me just to screw things up for his brother. Getting a callback is exciting, but I still don’t know if I’ll get the part.”



Winning runs in the family.

History



During history, our classroom is paged and I’m called to the office.

Everyone in class goes, Ooooohhhh. Like I did something I’m about to get in trouble for.

As I put my notebook into my bag, my mind starts to go crazy thinking about what I’ve possibly done wrong.

I’ve never gotten in trouble at school.

Except Aiden causing me to be late those two times.

Do they know Dawson sneaks into my room? Do they know we party at Hawthorne House after curfew? Do they know I smoke at the Cave?

I get to the office and say to the secretary, “I’m Keatyn Monroe. You called me out of class?”

Peyton steps out from behind a cubicle. “Oh, that was me. I need your help on some of this after-party stuff. I didn’t think you would mind getting out of class.”

I smile at the secretary, trying to assure her that I wasn’t the least bit nervous.

Peyton loops her arm through mine and says loudly, “We’re going to my dorm so that we can make some phone calls in peace.”

As we walk by the big trophy cases out front, she stops and points at some photos. “These are all the past Homecoming Kings and Queens. Isn’t that cool? I love looking at the dresses and hairstyles and how they’ve changed over the years.”

I study the photos, going back to the early 40s. “They are very cool. I like this dress especially.” I point to the winner from four years ago. She’s wearing a gorgeous but simply cut pale pink gown. “Clarke?” I look at her closer. “Is she related to Whitney?”

Peyton nods. “That’s her older sister, Winnie Clarke. Isn’t she gorgeous? She was captain of the dance team too.” She points at two other photos a couple years further back. “And these are her brothers.”

“So winning runs in the family?”

“Yeah. Part of why she acts like she’s entitled to win.”

“I love her sister’s gown. Is Whitney’s that pretty?”

Peyton laughs. “I guess that all depends on what you consider pretty. Come on. We better get going.”



As soon as we walk out of the building, she says, “I lied. The event coordinator is handling most of the after-party stuff. I thought maybe we could go to my room and look at dresses online. The dress is a big part of the tradition. Did you notice how all the dresses were very subtle? Very classy?”

“Yeah, and I read the flyer with all the rules regarding the dress.”

“Everyone who was nominated is either a cheerleader or a dancer. We’ll change into our dresses right before halftime, but Whitney will wear hers for the entire game. Want to see a picture of Whitney’s dress?”

“Sure,” I say. I’m sure it’s going to be gorgeous.

We get to her room and she pulls up a photo of Whitney’s dress on her laptop. “So this is hers. What do you think of it?”

I look at the dress. It’s a strapless nude-colored gown with a high slit up one leg. The entire bodice down to just above the knee is encrusted with very large multi-colored pastel jewels. Past the knee, the jewels are sprinkled sparsely down the nude colored mesh.

“Wow. It’s, um, pretty bold. It looks more like a pageant dress to me. But it’s hard to tell until you see it on.”

“It’s way over the top. Especially when you consider the way they want us to look. Wait ’til you see mine.”

She clicks the mouse and up pops a photo of Peyton in a fully beaded gown. I can’t help it. I start laughing. “You look like you should be turning letters on a game show, not wearing a Homecoming crown!”

She giggles with me. “That’s why I’m so excited to go shopping with you. I want a dress that’s me. This is not me. And it weighs about ten pounds.”

“I think that’s why Whitney’s choice is such a shock. She dresses so conservatively. I’m surprised she would buy something like that.”

“She said she wants to stand out.”

“You stand out when a dress enhances your beauty. You have to wear the dress. The dress can’t wear you. That’s why so many people choose their Academy Awards dresses wrong. They look at the dress’s beauty, not their beauty in the dress.”

Peyton gives me a mega-watt smile. One that is identical to her brother’s.

“Exactly. That’s exactly what I want.”

She clicks around and shows me some dresses she’s found online. Shows me a list of stores she’d like to go to.

I show her the dress that I ordered last night online.

“Oh, Keatyn, that dress is so you. It’s traditional, but the red is just a little more watermelon and the cutouts on the bodice are a really unique detail. It’s really pretty.”

“Thanks. It’s a brand I’ve worn before, so I have a pretty good idea of how it will fit. I think it’s the one, but I’m going to look this weekend to see if I find anything better. And I need some cute outfits for our dress up days.”

Peyton continues to click around on her computer. I decide to be brave and just ask what I’ve been wondering since the day Whitney called us glitter whores. “So what does Whitney have on you anyway?"

“What do you mean?”

“I just get the feeling that she’s holding something over your head.”

She shakes her head. “I can't tell you. It's horrible. I'm so ashamed of myself."

"At my old school, my best friend was a girl like Whitney. She threatened to tell everyone that my relationship with my perfect boyfriend was a sham because we hadn't had sex yet."

"You didn't want people to know you were a virgin? Why not?"

"Because we dated for a year and a half. Everyone thought we were doing it. She even thought we were until I slipped and told her one day. You shouldn't care, Peyton. If you don't care, then she can't hurt you. She loses her power over you.”

"What she has on me is way worse."

"Tell me. Get it off your chest. I promise you'll feel better."

She squints her eyes at me and sizes me up. "You swear to god that you will never tell anyone?”

I raise an eyebrow at her. "I'll do better than that. I'll pinkie swear." I hold my pinkie up and let her grab it.

"Okay," she says. "So, not long after Cam and I broke up . . .” Her chest heaves.

I can tell she's all torn up about this. Maybe it is worse.

No, I . . . I’m sorry. I can't tell you."

"Tell me. I promise I won't be shocked."

She blurts out, "I slept with a teacher."

My eyes get huge. I can't hide my shock. "I'm sorry. I am shocked. Who?"

She sighs big. “Coach Kline.”

“The hot Assistant Boys' Soccer coach?”

She nods.

“How did that happen?”

“After Cam slept with Whitney and never called, we started dating. We dated for well over a year. Even survived a summer apart. We broke up in October of my sophomore year. I was devastated and it didn’t help that there were stressful things going on at home. So I was crying on the soccer field one day after practice. Coach Kline was nice. He listened. That's how it started."

"Started? So it wasn't a one-time thing?"

"No. It lasted a few months. We didn't sleep together right away. We were sort of friends first. He was single back then and fresh out of college. He’s an alum. Was a soccer stand out when he was here as a student. Played soccer in college. He did his student teaching here and when they offered him a coaching position, he jumped at it. Since then, he’s gotten his Masters and gotten married. He was only twenty-two at the time. And it just went further. I never regretted it.”

"How did Whitney find out?"

"We were roommates. She thought I was lying to her about something, so she followed me one night. Even took pictures of us, um, together."

"Oh my gosh."

"She threatened to tell the school. Said I was going to get expelled. She hated me because of Cam. I know, in retrospect, he probably would’ve gotten fired and I wouldn't have been in trouble. Clearly, I was underage when it happened. But I didn't want to upset my parents. And now, if she showed the pictures, it would ruin his marriage, get him fired, and definitely get me expelled."

"Were you more popular than her? Back then?"

She shrugs and wipes a tear from her eye. "Maybe. I didn't really think of it that way. I made dance team and she didn't. But I didn't think she really cared. She didn't seem to want to get involved in any activities. I signed up for everything. Figured if I stayed busy, I wouldn't have to think about stuff."

“The other day in the locker room, when you threw away the shoes . . .”

“Wasn’t that great? It felt so freeing. And she always makes snide comments about our dance outfits. I think it’s because she’s jealous.”

“If she tried out and didn’t make it, I’m sure she is. Did she try out the next year?”

“No. Ever since, she acts like she’s too good for it.” Peyton snickers. “Really, it’s that she’s just not a very good dancer.”



Better than naked chests?

French



Although Peyton wants to skip the rest of the day, I tell her that I need to get to French.

“My brother has really started enjoying French,” she teases.

“He doesn’t enjoy it. He just likes it better because he’s not so close to failing anymore. Takes some of the pressure off.”

She looks at the clock. “You better scoot, then. I think I’m going to stay here. Maybe take a nap.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you before the game.”



I slide into my desk just before the tardy bell rings.

From behind me Aiden says, “Congrats on the play. I told you you’d get the part.”

I flip around. “What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you hear the cast announcement at lunch?”

“No! I skipped lunch. I was helping your sister with some Social Committee stuff. Well, sorta.”

“You’re playing the part of the Cheerleader Bachelorette.”

I let out a loud shrill. “Ahhhh!”

Miss Praline goes, “Keatyn?”

I flip back around. “I can’t help it. I’m so excited!”

Aiden explains, “She just found out she got the role she wanted in the school play.”

“Well, that’s nice, Miss Monroe. Congratulations.”

“I’m excited for you, Keatyn,” Annie says. “But I’m even more excited for tomorrow.”

I grab her arm. “Oh, I didn’t tell you about tonight, did I? Riley is going to ask Ariela right before the game. We’re writing Homecoming? on a football and he’s going to pass it to her during warm ups.”

“Oh, that’s so cute!”

“And she’ll be able to keep the football. I kind of wish I had something to keep.”

“Me too,” Annie says. “Although I do have a screen shot of him asking me. And Maggie took pictures.”

I think about Aiden’s Homecoming stars.

I spin around to ask him. “What ever happened with your stars, Aiden? I keep thinking I’ll see someone post them on Facebook.”

“What stars?” Annie asks.

Aiden ignores Annie and says in a stern voice, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I turn back around.

Why doesn’t he want to talk about it?

Oh my gosh. Is he embarrassed because she said no?

And who in their right mind would have said no?

I think about what Shark said in detention that day. What was it? Something about Aiden and the dream girl. Or waiting for the dream girl.

Who is this dream girl and what the hell is her problem?

Is she blind?

I sneak a peek at Aiden.

His head is down. But I can see his arms. His lightly bronzed skin. His blond hair, which he’s been pushing over to the side instead of spiking up because it needs to be cut. He’s doodling on his notebook, causing the muscle in his forearm to flex the same way it did when he trapped me against the wall the other night. When he said, Date us both.

Is that what he wanted to do? Date both me and the Homecoming girl?

Ugghh. Riley was right. He is so the player.

But my curiosity gets the best of me, so I write him a note.





I close my eyes and think about lying next to him. His pinkie just touching mine.





He whispers in my ear. “You better be there, or I’ll quit Social Committee.”

“So quit. I’m tired of you telling me that. If you don’t want to be there, then just quit.”

He leans up a little closer and sighs, his breath warming the side of my face. “I need you. Please?”

I turn around to tell him I’ll try, but when I do my check smashes straight into his lips.

“You want me to kiss you, all you have to do is ask. You don’t have to try and be all sneaky about it.”

I whip my head forward, flipping my hair in his stupid face. “Kissing you is the last thing I want to do,” I mutter.

“In your life?”

“What?”

“Are you telling me that will be your dying wish? It’s the last thing I want to do. Have his lips on mine. Then I can die happy,” he says dramatically.

“You really should’ve tried out for the play. Drama king.”

“I’m not a drama king.”

“Ha! Everything about you is drama.” I turn back around and smirk at him. “Big production. But no one is buying the tickets.”

“And you’re the little production that gets out of hand. Turns into a massive time and money pit. Then goes straight to DVD.”

I think about something sad and let tears come to my eyes. “That’s harsh.” I dab the corner of my eye for effect. Hang my head down a little.

I’m so sad.

His face completely softens. I can tell he feels bad.

“I was just teasing. I already told you that you’d get amazing reviews and I . . .”

I slowly let my face break into a wide shit-eating grin.

“Seriously? You can bring on the fake tears that easily?”

I shrug a shoulder. “It’s a gift.”



A good send off.

3:30pm



We don’t have dance practice, since there’s a game tonight, so I drag Dawson to his room to kiss him.

Actually, I’m thinking about doing more than kissing him. His parents are coming for the game and he’s going back home with them, so I won’t get to see him later. And he’s going to be hanging out with his brother and lots of other girls.

I’m thinking he needs a good send off. And I have the perfect thing for that.

I reach down and skim my hand across the front of his pants.

Dawson gives my body a squeeze. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“You don’t want me?” I pout.

Shit. Maybe Riley is right. Maybe I should be worried.

He pushes himself against me, so I can feel that his body does want me.

“I do want you, but you’ll wear me out. I need to be fresh for this game. St. Thomas is a big rival, and I thought you had to tutor Aiden?”

"I thought you were jealous of Aiden?"

"Well, that was before. When I thought he liked you."

“And now you think he doesn't?"

"It's pretty obvious that he doesn't. He could’ve taken advantage of what happened last weekend. Instead, he told Riley about it. So that Riley would tell me. I was wrong to be jealous. He’s obviously not into you, so I'm fine with you tutoring him. I mean, we do need him. He's our starting kicker and since Cole got hurt, he’s starting at receiver too. We don't want him to get kicked off the team because he’s failing.”

“I know, but . . .” I make a sad face. Now I am feeling jealous. I don’t want to sound like a whiny, jealous girlfriend. But still. “Will your brother encourage you to cheat on me? Riley says he will. Says I should be nervous,” I blurt out.

Dawson smiles at me and pulls me down on his bed. “Is that what this is all about?”

“Kinda, yes.”

“You’re going to New York with a bunch of girls. Are you going to be looking for guys? I suspect you could pick up a guy any time you wanted.”

“You’re silly. Guys really don’t pay that much attention to me.”

He gives me a look. “I’m not buying that.”

“At my old school, my best friend used to tell me I was good bait. Apparently, I’m easy to talk to. Which meant I’d become their friend, and she’d sleep with them.”

“Was she not as pretty as you?”

“She was very pretty, but more like Whitney. Not very approachable.”

“So she was a big bitch?”

I can’t help but laugh. “Kinda, yeah.”

He grabs both of my hands and looks at me seriously. “Keatie, I love you. I’m not looking for other girls. I just want to hang out with my brother. It’s weird not having him here every day.”

“Are you closer to him than you are with Riley?”

“Riley and I are getting closer, but he wasn’t here the last two years. It was me and Cam.”

“That makes sense.” I sigh. “I guess I better go.”

He leans in to give me what I assume is a good-bye kiss. But it’s better than that. His lips press hard against mine and he pulls me up onto his lap.

“I am leaving right after the game,” he says in between kisses.

“I’m wearing the leopard print bra,” I whisper as I kiss down his neck. “And, I have a little surprise for you.”

“Then it’s settled. You’re not going anywhere.”



If I only had a brain.

5:30pm



Dawson and I walk hand in hand down to the field house. He gives me a fiery good-bye kiss, smacks my ass, and walks into the boys’ locker room to get ready for the game.

I head to the dance room and see Aiden and Peyton walking toward me.

Shit.

I forgot to text Aiden about not doing tutoring.

Peyton gives me a radiant smile.

Aiden raises his eyebrows at me and frowns. “So you’re not dead.”

Peyton smacks him on the shoulder. “Be nice.”

“She ditched me.”

“I did ditch him. I’m sorry. I, um . . . I had something else I needed to do, and I kinda forgot to text you.”

Peyton giggles. “Was that thing you needed to do Dawson?”

My mouth hangs open. I don’t know what to say. “Um . . .”

Aiden shakes his head at me in disgust.

Or hate, maybe.

“He’s going home with his parents after the game, so I won’t get to see him tonight. I just, we just, I wanted to say goodbye. And he . . . ”

Aiden seems to recover from his hate quickly because a little smile starts playing on his lips. It’s the smile that makes a girl feel weak at the knees.

Not my knees.

Just probably girls in general.

“That’s understandable,” he says. “So then we’ll have to do it tonight.”

“You have a game.”

“After the game. After curfew.”

“Everyone is going to the Cave tonight.”

“Everyone but us. We’ll be in my room studying.”

“No. No, we won’t.”

“Will Dawson get jealous?”

“No, he has nothing to be jealous of, but I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. I love Dawson.”

Aiden tilts his head at me in question. I can tell he’s dying to know if I told Dawson yet.

“Yes, Aiden. I told Dawson I love him. Yes, I was confused for a while about love. That happens after you go through a break up. It’s normal to question it and become more cynical of love because you don’t want to get hurt again. But Dawson’s not going to hurt me.”

“Awww,” Peyton says. I didn’t realize she was still here. Aiden has been staring at me with so much intensity. And, apparently, using some of that godly power.

The one that makes you feel like the scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz.

If I only had a brain.

“When did you tell him?” she asks.

I get that gooey feeling. That feeling like I’m being hugged by Dawson. I hug myself and gush, “It was the other night. I told him I hearted him. He asked if that was close to loving him. I hadn’t said it because I was scared to. But he makes me happy, and I wanted him to know it.”

“I love that feeling,” Peyton gushes back. “It’s so dream—”

Aiden interrupts her. “I’ll let you ladies finish your love fest here. I have to get in the locker room.” Then he gazes deep into my eyes and says, “I know where we can go. I’ll be outside your window at one. We’ll study then go party with everyone.”

“Really?”

He shrugs. “What? You think you’re the only one with plans?”



Has he tried?

11:30pm



Katie and I are in our room packing for New York.

“Wasn’t the way Riley asked Ariela so adorable?” she gushes.

“It was. I was a little nervous though. He whipped that football at her pretty hard. Can you imagine if it would have hit her in the face? It could have gone horribly wrong. Of course, when we were coming up with the idea, I didn’t think of that. As soon as he threw it, I started thinking about all the bad things that could happen. It hitting her in the face. Someone else catching it.”

“Well, she caught it. And the look on her face when she read it. You could tell she was really surprised.”

“I loved how they both ran toward each other and kissed in the middle of the field.”

“Now I wish I had made Dallas ask me. Do you think he would’ve come up with something cute?”

“Probably. How’s that going? We haven’t really talked about it. You kissed, right?”

She grins. “Of course we’ve kissed. I’m not Annie.”

“That’s kind of mean.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant I won’t wait. He’s too cute.”

“What do you mean by you won’t wait?”

“I’m going to attack him tonight at the party.”

“Don’t you think that’s rushing it a little? You’ve only hung out with him twice, and you aren’t going out yet.”

“Did you wait until Dawson asked you out?”

I sigh. “That’s not really the point. I just think if you like him, you might want to wait. Let him try before you attack him. Has he tried?”

“Not really.” She giggles. “He’s obsessed with my boobs. But we’ve done more than kiss.”

“Hands more or mouths more?”

“Just hands, but tonight I plan on changing that.”

I’m a little worried about this. My poor baby Dallas is going to get attacked tonight, and I feel like I should protect him or something. Part of me wants to tell her to keep her slutty mouth off him.

“So what are you packing to wear shopping?”

“I think this,” I say, setting my grey Frye boots on my bed along with a funky pair of silver sequined shorts.

“I swear, you are the only person I know that could mix sequins and cowboy boots and get away with it.”

I laugh as I pull more clothes out of my closet. A bright peach silk J. Crew pintuck-front blouse, a slightly gaudy silver rhinestone necklace, and a little Louis Vuitton Eva bag.

“Have you checked the weather?” I ask.

“I think it might be chilly in the morning, but it’s supposed to be sunny.”

“I better wear a jacket then,” I say, grabbing a gabardine Burberry trench coat with fun black leather sleeves. And even though it might rain, I throw in a pair of big black sunglasses.

Her phone buzzes with a text. She looks down, smiles, and turns her back on me.

Um, hello? Weren’t we in the middle of a conversation here?



I finish packing then say to her, “So I’m going to sleep for a little before the party.”

She gives me a barely perceptible nod of her head as she laughs to herself and furiously texts.

My own phone buzzes.



Dawson: I’m still in the car with my parents. Bor-ing. But before the game was really fun ;)



Me: Which part was really fun?



Dawson: The gummy lifesaver part.



Me: Who knew they the stretched like that.



Dawson: You knew.



Me: Only because I overheard a couple of the girls from dance talking about it. I’ve never tried anything like that before.



Dawson: Me either. It was sweet.



Me: It did make it sweeter. LMAO.



Dawson: It’s just really cool that you wanted to try it with me. I love you. Seriously. Love you.



Me: I love you too.



Dawson: Jake says everyone is partying at the Cave tonight. You going?



Me: Yeah, later. I have to help Aiden with French first, since I ditched him today for gummy lifesavers and won’t be here all weekend. We have an oral test on Monday. But he has plans and I’m going to the party, so I’m sure we’ll get through it fast.



Dawson: Oral test? You better not be tutoring him with gummy lifesavers.



Me: You’re bad. And, no. Definitely nothing like that for Aiden. I miss you already.



Dawson: Ugg. My mom says I need to put my phone away and talk to them. Which means they are going to grill me about you, Riley, Ariela, what Cam has been up to, blah, blah.



Me: I miss my parents. Talk to them. They’re dropping you off at Cam’s tonight, right?



Dawson: Yeah, we’re going to a party.



Me: I’m jealous.



Dawson: I’ll probably be texting you the whole time. I love you.



Me: I heart you.



Where’s the harem?

1am



It seems like I just shut my eyes and all of a sudden Katie’s phone alarm is going off.

She pops out of bed, pulls her jeans on, and practically dives out the window. “I’ll see you at the Cave, okay?”

“Sure,” I say. I peek at my clock, see it’s a few minutes to one, and try to figure out what I want to wear. Dawson won’t be here to keep me warm, so I throw on a long-sleeved Free People thermal shirt and some Rag & Bone jean shorts. I look at the Golden Goose boots that Cush gave me. They’d be perfect with this outfit.

I haven’t worn them since he told me his mom bought them. I’ve been sort of mad at them.

I pick the boots up and run my hand across the leather.

It’s not their fault that Cush lied. It really doesn’t matter how they became mine, what matters is what I thought. That these boots are everything I want to be.

I put the boots down on the floor and slide my feet into them.

Perfect.

My hear a little knock on my window and know it’s Aiden.

I climb out the window, laughing at how easily I glide out now. How different my life is now than when school started.

My boots should hit the ground about now, but instead I find myself sliding down Aiden’s body as he catches me.

“What are you doing?” I say madly. I don’t want to be in his stupid arms.

“Just catching you,” he says sweetly.

It’s really hard to be mad at someone that looks the way he does. Tonight, with the moonlight shining down on him, he almost looks angelic.

A*shole.

I try to push out of his arms, but he holds me tightly. “You can let go now,” I say.

He drops me to the ground and looks down at my feet. “You’re wearing boots.”

“I wear boots all the time.”

“Not those boots. You haven’t worn those since the day we met.”

How does he even know that?

I roll my eyes. “I’ve been sort of mad at them.”

He tilts his head to the side and squints his eyes at me. “Mad at your boots? You can’t be mad at those boots.”

“I’m not anymore. We made up.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. Let’s get French done so we can go party.”

His hand curves across the small of my back.

Electricity shoots straight up my spine, causing me to arch my back and jump away from him.

“You’re awfully jumpy tonight.”

“Stop touching me then,” I state a little too emphatically.

He stops touching me and leads me to the chapel, which is apparently open all night. I think I knew that, but had forgotten it.

We study in a very business-like fashion. Our test on Monday has a speaking portion, so mostly we work on his word enunciation.

“I think I’ve got it. I’ll keep working on it this weekend, but at least I know the proper way to say everything now.” He looks at his phone, which is loaded with texts. From girls. And Logan and Nick. And girls. “I better get going.”

“Um, okay. Yeah, me too,” I say, glancing at my phone like there’s something important in it. All my friends begging for me to get there. Unfortunately, there are no texts from anyone.

My friends suck.



When we get to the clearing known as The Cave, Aiden says, “Thanks for helping me. Have a good night.”

I watch him go over to where Nick and Logan are standing. A cheerleader that I don’t really know wraps her arms around Aiden's neck in a greeting.

I study her. Wondering if that’s what Aiden's dream girl looks like.

She's petite, with long dark hair, and a sweet smile. Her eyes are small and just a little too close together, but other than that she has a nicely proportioned face. And a body. A killer body. That kind of curvy body that boys love and I couldn’t get with the best plastic surgeon in all of Beverly Hills.

I look around.

All my friends are paired off. Which explains their lack of texts. Annie is sitting on a log with Ace. Heads together. Holding hands. Deep in conversation. Maggie is making out with Parker up against a tree. Katie isn’t really visible because Dallas is lying on top of her, groping her shirt.

Jake has his arm wrapped around Whitney. She’s smoking a cigarette and he’s drinking whiskey straight out of a bottle.

My eyes flit back to Aiden and the girl.

“S’up, girly,” Shark says, wandering over to stand next to me.

He appears to be a little tipsy, but his eyes follow mine straight to Aiden.

“Is she the dream girl?” I ask him.

“Chelsea? No.”

“She seems to like him.”

Shark laughs. "All the girls like him."

I watch as another girl bounces up to Aiden, shoves her boobs out, and hands him a shot. They click glasses and slam the shots together. Then she starts dancing in front of him. Grabbing his hands and trying to get him to dance with her.

“It appears that they do.” I say, realizing I’ve never seen this side of Aiden. He’s flirting. Laughing. Drinking. Doing shots. He even does a little arm shimmy, which gets the girls all worked up.

He, Nick, and Logan are literally surrounded by girls.

Weird.

“So who do you think will be Homecoming Queen? I’m having a tough time with the odds,” Shark admits.

“Why?”

“Because history suggests that Whitney will win. Every other Clarke has won. But there are other factors.”

“What factors?”

“My personal opinion is supposed to stay out of the odds. I always look at the facts. But the fact is, I don’t care for Whitney much. I’d rather see Mariah or Peyton win. Also, the freshman class is large this year, and I have no idea how they will vote. One would think based on Whitney’s lack of activities, it would give Peyton and Mariah an advantage.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

He leans his head close to mine. “Will it affect the odds?” He pulls out a flask, takes a swig, and hands it to me.

I nod my head as I take a swig. When the alcohol hits my throat, I want to spit it out. It burns all the way down to my stomach. “What is this?”

“Everclear. Hundred proof. Fastest way to get drunk.”

“Are you trying to get drunk fast?”

He gives me a wide smirk. “No, but I have been known to share with an attractive female or two.”

I laugh. “I see. Trying to get the girl drunk fast.”

“So, tell me the secret.”

“Ninety percent of the freshman class voted for me for Student Council. I never would have gotten on it otherwise. And I was thinking . . .”

“Of swaying their vote?”

I grin at him. “Yeah. But I don't want anyone to know. I want to sway quietly.”

“An underground campaign. Excellent.”

“Something like that. Whitney hates me. And I'm not doing it to be mean to her, but I just think a person that is more involved in school activities should win.”

“So Peyton or Mariah?”

“I'll vote for Peyton, and I hope she wins.”

Shark and I sit down on a newly vacated log. The couple that was sitting here has wandered off, hand in hand.

It makes me miss Dawson.

Directly across the circle of logs, right in my line of sight, is Aiden. Logan sitting on his left. Two girls on each side of them and three girls sitting in front of them in the dirt. Logan appears to be telling a story, and Aiden is occasionally interjecting a comment and laughing.

Aiden's blond hair is practically glowing in the moonlight. The shadows playing across his face make him look angular and more mature. And when he smiles, it's like a god reached down and touched the forest with light.

Shark pulls out a joint and lights it up as Peyton sits down next to him. “What's up, girlie?” Shark says to her.

“I hope you're sharing,” she replies.

He nods, takes a hit, and passes it to her. She takes a big hit, holding it in her lungs for a long time, then slowly breathes out and hands it to me. “Whitney's pissed at me.”

“Why?” I ask, as I pass the joint back to Shark.

“Because I'm going with you this weekend. And I didn't even mention a new dress. She would have come unglued.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That we’re shopping for dress-up days for the dance team.” She takes another deep hit. “Ah, much better.”

Aiden walks over and sits down next to his sister. Shark hands him another joint. As he sucks in, the stubble on the side of his face becomes more noticeable. All that light scruff.

I can sort of understand why the girls were literally sitting as his feet.

A girl leans down in front of Shark and whispers drunkenly, Let's hook up. He stands up, tells us, Duty calls, and leaves with the girl.

Peyton gives Aiden what appears to be some sort of godly telepathic message. They nod at each other and she says, “There's Brad. I need to talk to him.”

Leaving me sitting alone with Aiden.

“Where's the harem?” I ask, slightly sarcastically, as my phone vibrates.



Dawson: I lobe you



Me: I love you too.



Dawson: I druk.



Me: You’re drunk? Where are you?



Dawson: no shoes./'



Me: Where are you?



Dawson: gurl bed partzy



I feel like someone just stabbed me. My cell phone drops out of my hands.



Aiden picks my phone up, reads it, shakes his head, and hands it back to me.

"Um . . ." I look to Aiden, hoping he’ll say something reassuring. That all the awful thoughts I’m having about Dawson cheating couldn’t possibly be true.

But he doesn’t. He just looks at me. With those green eyes. Unfortunately, there’s no confidence in them, only sympathy.

He feels bad for me because he thinks Dawson is cheating on me.

And something else. Something that I always see when he looks at me. It’s like his eyes speak to me. Trying to get me to understand something. Something that resonates deep inside me.

But something that I don’t understand. It’s like being spoken to in a foreign language.

I don’t have a clue what it means.

But I do know what to do.



Me: Your brother is “druk,” can’t find his shoes, and is in a “gurl’s bed at a partzy.”



Riley: Shit.



Me: Yeah.



Aiden says, “Are you okay?”

“Not really. Have fun with the harem. I’m heading back to my room.”

“I’ll walk you. The harem will wait.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m fine.” Tears start leaking out of my eyes. I don’t want Aiden to see them, so I turn around and run. Run through the trees. Run to my dorm window. When I get there, I close my eyes, lean against the side of the building, and start to slide down into the grass.

Aiden is right there. He pins me against the brick wall, moves his leg between mine, and pushes his chest tightly against me.

He looks down at me, taking in my lips like he always does right before he kisses me.

But he doesn’t kiss me.

He shakes his head, wraps his arms around me, and hugs me.

Just hugs me.

Which really makes me start sobbing. “I’m never, ever telling a guy I love him again. It’s like I’m love cursed.”

He nuzzles his face into my hair and whispers soothingly, “You’re not love cursed. You just aren’t . . .”

“Just aren’t what?”

I feel his chest move deeply in and out, sighing against me. “Maybe he’s just drunk at the party. If he was hooking up, I doubt he’d stop to text you.”

“I think the hooking up is over and now he can’t find his shoes.”

“So you don’t trust him?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, when he left, did you trust him?”

“I did. He told me over and over not to worry. To trust him. That he loves me.”

“If he really loves you, he won’t cheat on you. Even if he’s drunk. You should have faith in the people you love. Maybe if you did, they wouldn’t let you down.”

I pull out of the hug and turn my back on him. “I’m going to cry alone in my room now. Thanks for your kind words,” I say sarcastically. But then I swing around madly. “So it’s my fault if he cheats?! That sounds like the kind of zen bullshit the Keats guy would tell me. I didn’t expect it from you. But I should have. It fits your whole player thing. The whole it’s-never-my-fault, take-no-responsibility-for-your-actions-because-it’s-easier-to-blame-fate, or cosmic forces, or someone else, than it is to admit that you just suck. Good night.”

He runs his hands down the sides of my arms and for reasons I don’t understand, it calms me down.

“Boots, I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that . . .” He pushes his hand through his hair, causing the ends to stick up a little. “Maybe the guy you’re with isn’t worthy of your love.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

My phone starts buzzing and buzzing.

“Who is it?” Aiden asks.

“It’s Riley,” I reply as I answer the phone. “Hey, Riley.”

“Where are you?”

“About to go in my room.”

“Cam wants to talk to you. I’ve got him on conference with me. Say hi, Cam.”

Cam says, in a voice that is almost identical to Dawson’s minus the sweetness, “Don’t be mad at him.”

“He’s texting me from a girl’s bed!”

“Yeah, a bed that he’s in alone.”

“No offense, Cam, but Riley told me about you. How you didn't think Dawson should have a girlfriend. I get it. You're a player. You want to have fun and not be tied down.”

He laughs. “Actually, I'd love to be tied down.” I hear him yell out to whoever is at the party. "Anyone got any rope? I want to be tied up."

“I said tied down.”

“Close enough,” he says with another laugh.

“It’s been great talking to you. Tell your brother when he sobers up not to bother calling me.”

“And you need to cool your panties. He didn't hook up with anyone. In fact, he sucks as a wingman now.”

“What do you mean?”

“He won't shut up about you. It’s hard to pick up girls when one of us is all panty whipped and talking about his amazingly hot girlfriend. So I did what I had to do. Got him drunk. Put him to bed.”

I let out an audible sigh and get tears of relief in my eyes. “He's really alone?”

“Yes. He’s crazy about you. I’m not gonna let him screw that up. At least not until I meet you. I gotta go. Just got a taker on the rope.”

Riley lets out a loud laugh then says to me, “You okay?”

“Do you think Cam’s telling the truth and not just covering for him?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then, yes, I’m okay. Thanks, Riley.”

Aiden looks at me expectantly.

“His brother said he’s a bad wingman. That he kept talking about me in front of the girls. So he got him drunk and put him to bed.”

Aiden crosses his arms in front of his broad chest and stiffens up his jaw. “Well, that’s great.”

“I’m going to bed now,” I say as I climb in my window. Once inside, I stick my head back out. “Thanks for following me. Checking on me. Trying to make me feel better. I appreciate it, Aiden.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

I give him a sassy grin. “You just did. But yes. Ask away.”

“What you said today in French. Do you think true love is bullshit or do you believe in it?”

I look up at the almost full moon shining over his head and sigh. “I really want to believe in it.”

Aiden turns around and looks up at the moon. “The moon is really pretty tonight, isn’t it?” He turns back around and gives me the kind of smile that almost makes me believe it could be true. I think gods have that effect on people. They give them hope. “Don’t let my sister go crazy shopping tomorrow.”

I laugh. “I won’t.”

“Night, Boots.”





Saturday, October 1st

It does feel good.

8:30am



I’m on the train with all the girls. Ariela is funny. One minute she’s telling us how Riley drives her nuts, the next minute how crazy she is about him.

“I still can’t believe I’m dating a junior! I didn’t even date juniors when I was a freshman!”

She turns to me. “Why does Riley call you baby?”

“I don’t know. It’s like his nickname for me. He’s called me it pretty much since we met.”

“It makes me crazy. He doesn’t have a nickname for me.” Her pretty face pouts.

“He likes you a lot. It shouldn’t matter what he calls anyone else. I mean, you know his reputation, right?”

“Well sure, he’s a player. Why do you think I’m making him wait for sex?”

Maggie deadpans, “Cuz you want it to be special.” Annie says it at the exact same time, only she says it in her dreamy way.

We all laugh. Katie says, “Do you think I should do it with Dallas?”

Annie goes, “It’s way too soon.” Then she turns to Maggie and says, “Sorry, but I think it is.”

“We almost did last night.”

“You did?” Annie screeches. “Why?”

“Cuz it feels good,” Maggie replies.

Annie looks at her like she’s crazy.

Peyton high fives Maggie and says, “It does feel good.”

Maggie, Peyton, and Ariela go on to discuss which sexual positions are their favorites while Annie is shaking her head. I’m laughing at them when I get a text from Dawson.



Dawson: I don’t even know what to say. I’m being a chicken and texting you. I’m sorry. I swore to you that I wouldn’t cheat and then . . .



My heart is back in my throat again. Did Cam lie to me? Is Dawson confessing?



Me: And then . . . what?



Dawson: I read what I texted you last night.



Me: You were drunk and in a girl’s bed. I cried.



Dawson: I’m so sorry, Keatie. I don’t even remember what happened.



Me: Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.



Dawson: Are we broke up? I looked at facebook and you didn’t change your status.



Me: You must remember something. Flirting. Kissing. That’s usually how it starts.



Dawson: But I don’t. I didn’t kiss anyone. And I was telling them all about you. About how amazing you are.



Me: Is that a Johnson brother rule? If you don’t remember it, it didn’t happen.



Dawson: I don’t know what happened.



Me: But you think you did something? Why do you think that?



Dawson: My texts last night. And I just woke up. In a girl’s bed.



Me: You alone in that bed?



Dawson: Yes.



Me: Have you talked to your brother yet?



Dawson: No.



Me: I talked to him last night.



Dawson: Oh. Shit. Why?



Me: Because I got your texts and was very upset. I told Riley. Riley called Cam.



Dawson: F*ck. You hate me now, don’t you? I’m so sorry, Keatie, really. I would never do that to you on purpose. Like Cam kept giving me shots and we were playing pool and he was flirting with this one chick. I was giving him shit about just wanting to hook up. I was telling them how amazing a relationship can be. He told me I was a bad wingman and to shut the f*ck up. Playing pool is the last thing I remember.



Me: It’s hard to trust someone who gets so drunk they can’t remember what they did or who they may have been with. Because you know eventually they will screw up. Cam told me you didn’t hook up with anyone. That he got you drunk and then put you to bed. But he’s your brother. He would lie for you. So I’m not sure what to think.



Dawson: Thank God. I was sitting here thinking I’d lost you.



Me: Maybe you already have, Dawson. I’m not sure what to believe at this point. You told me you missed your brother. I stupidly assumed you went there to hang out with him. Not just to party. I’m on the train going to shop. You and Cam have fun this weekend.



Dawson: You’re mad.



Me: Tell you what. Tonight, I’ll party. Go to a club. Meet up with a bunch of guys I don’t know. Then I’ll text you about how I’m so drunk. In some guy’s bed. And how I can’t find my shoes. We’ll see how that makes you feel. And if you trust me after.



Dawson:


I know I’m kind of being a bitch right now. But I can’t just let him get away with it. He’s a big boy. He could have said no to the shots. So I’m not texting him back for a little while.

Screw him. I’m going to enjoy shopping with my friends.

I text Riley.



Me: Do you really think Camden told me the truth? I was relieved to hear it last night. But now I’m kind of upset again and don’t know what to believe. Dawson texted me. He doesn’t remember and assumes he hooked up with someone based on the texts he sent me. Says the last thing he remembers is Camden “making” him do shots and them playing pool. Please don’t lie for them to protect my feelings. I really like Dawson. You know that I do. But I’d rather know the truth.



Riley: Cam might be a jerk, but he’s not a liar.



Me: It’s his brother.



Riley: Yeah, but you have to understand him. If Dawson got drunk and hooked up, Cam would be proud of him. He might have lied to you, but he wouldn’t have lied to me. He had no reason to. He doesn’t know how close we are.



Me: Just so you know, I love you. I don’t care what happens with your brother, I’ll always love you. And Dallas. Speaking of Dallas. Katie told me she attacked him last night!



Riley: I love you too :) and he fended her off. Barely. LOL. Do you think it’s weird or cool that he’s still a virgin?



Me: It’s kinda cool, really. That he has done a lot but wanted to wait to do it with someone special. Was your first time with someone special?



Riley: Ha. No. Hamptons. Summer before 8th grade. I was drunk. She was horny and, thankfully, much older than me. Our parents were out of town. Cam threw a big party. All I really remember is her long dark hair kept getting in my mouth. And I felt like I was going to puke.



Me: That’s pretty young.



Riley: Yeah, probably. That and my getting kicked out freshman year are part of why they’ve tried to shelter Braxton a little more. Why they won’t let him come to the beach when they aren’t there. He’s trying to talk them into letting him be with us all next summer.



Me: I can’t wait to meet him Homecoming weekend.



Riley: He can’t wait to come here Homecoming weekend. Thinks he’s going to hook up with someone. LOL. He’s a little shit. But funny as hell.



Me: So . . . I shouldn’t be mad at Dawson?



Riley: I’d be mad, but I don’t think you should break up with him.



Me: Okay, thanks.



Riley: You gonna help Ariela find a boner-worthy dress?



Me: You are so bad. You know she’s purposefully making you wait.



Riley: I know. But it’s fun. We had fun last night. Just making out is really fun. I think I tend to skip it because I want to get to the good stuff. But kissing is good stuff. At least it is with her.



Me: You’re getting all mushy.



An Eastbrooke girl.

10:30am



I interrupt the girls’ conversation, which has moved on to what kind of dresses they hope to find. “I got a car and driver for us, so that we wouldn’t have to worry about getting cabs, our luggage, or packages. Do you want to go to the loft now or should we start shopping?”

“Shopping!” everyone yells.

At the first dress shop, I’m helping Annie look for a pretty pink dress for the dance.

“How are you and Ace? You haven’t really said anything.”

“I’m feeling a little guilty myself . . .”

“No! You had sex with him? I thought you were going to wait!”

“Oh, no. I just mean I let him, like . . .” She hems and haws, then kicks her foot into the ground. “I let him put his hand down my pants.”

“Oh, really? And?”

“I really liked it. I think that’s why I feel guilty. He also asked me out.”

“He did?! Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Do you think he only asked me because I let him?”

“Did you do anything else to him? Like more than you’ve done before?”

“No, why?”

“He asked you out because he likes you, not because you let him touch you. I’m so happy for you. Are you happy? I can’t believe you, of all people, haven’t put this on Facebook yet!”

“I know, weird, huh?”

“You can see why sometimes I want to keep things private, can’t you?”

I spot a gorgeous pink dress that is perfect for Annie. It’s got a sleeveless pink lace top, pink ribbon waist, and a flirty pleated skirt.

“Oh, look at this one! You have to try this on!”

“Yeah, I do. I love it. It’s sexy, but not too revealing.”

I flip it around. “But look at the back!” The back has a large triangular-shaped cutout that is sexy, but not blatant.

She hops up and down and claps. “I love that.” She grabs it from my hand and runs to the dressing room.

I follow her back as Maggie walks out in a simple black gown.

“Oh, Maggie, I like that one,” Ariela says.

I look at it critically as she asks, “What do you think, Keatyn?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes, honestly. I want to look amazing.”

“I’d say the top doesn’t fit you properly. It’s too loose. I think you would be constantly pulling it up. And the way it’s gathered here,” I point to her hip, “makes your hips look bigger than they are. It doesn’t flatter your hot body. I also think I’d like to see you in something besides black with your skin tone.”

“How about this one?” Peyton asks, holding out a strapless tiered dress in a deep navy blue.

“I like that one better! Try it on!”

Annie comes out in her pink dress. She’s already twirling and clearly in love with it. “I’m getting this. Do you think I should get this?” She grabs the skirt and twirls again. “I feel beautiful. For the first time in my life, I actually feel beautiful.”

“Then you should definitely get it,” Ariela says, walking out in another dress.

“Speaking of beautiful. That dress is like a dream,” Peyton says to Ariela, who is wearing a soft coral strapless gown with a thick band of silver beading sparkling at the waist.

Ariela looks good in anything she puts on, but this dress just isn’t her style. And based on the way she is looking at it in the mirror—shoulders shrugged and nose scrunched up—tells me she doesn’t like it either. “I don’t think this one is me. Do you want to try it on?”

“Yes!” Peyton practically screams.

Katie comes out in another dress that she’s rejecting. She’s in kind of foul mood. “What’s wrong?” I ask her.

She plops down next to me in a tight red dress that barely contains her boobs. “Dallas doesn’t want me.”

“Why do you think that?”

She purses her lips and pushes her hair behind one ear. “Last night. Things were fun. Like really fun. And I wanted to. And—I’m embarrassed to even say it—I tried. And he said no. Guys never say no.”

“Sometimes they do,” I say gently. “I think he really likes you. Maybe he wants it to be special the first time you do it. Like not just some romp in the bushes, you know?”

She lets out a sigh so big it causes one of her boobs to completely pop out of the dress. She looks down and laughs. “Probably not this dress, huh? So do you really think that’s it?”

“What did he tell you?”

“He didn’t explain. Just sort of moved away. Said he was tired. Stopped things pretty abruptly.”

“Why are you trying to go so fast with him? You’ve only been dating him, sort of, for like three days.”

“I’m tired of being a good girl all the time. I’m ready to get some experience, and I like Dallas. I really like him. I’ve crushed on him since school started.”

Maggie comes out in the navy dress at the same time Peyton walks out in the coral one. They both look stunning.

“Wow! You both look amazing!” Katie says.

“I can’t believe I found a dress so fast!” Peyton exclaims. “This is the one. It’s conservative, like they expect us to be, but I adore the bling at the waist. I feel like a goddess.”

“You look like one too,” I tell her. And she does. The color of it with her blonde hair and green eyes is amazing.

She smiles and literally lights up the room.

Maggie stands in front of the mirror. “So you all like this one?”

“It’s very different from Peyton’s but it’s amazing on you. The layers are flirty and fun, but the fit—the way it hugs your body, all the way down—makes it sexy. You look incredible.”

She cracks a naughty smile. “I think Parker will like it.”

“I think all the guys will like it,” Annie says.

“We did good here,” I say. “Maggie, Annie, and Peyton all found dresses. Katie and Ariela, what do you think? Next store?”

They both nod in agreement.