Date Me (The Keatyn Chronicles)

I get my second costume fitted then go sit back down. Aiden is still here with the book in his hand.

“I found a few more words you might like. If you’re cool with it.”

“I hung out with French surfers half the summer. I don’t think you’re going to shock me.”

“T’exploser.”

“Pound.”

“Tringler.”

“Screw.”

“Hammer wasn’t in here.”

“You want to hear one that cracks me up?”

“Yeah.”

“Enfourner mon pain.”

“Bake my bread?”

Keatyn Monroe.

I laugh. “Think about it. I’ll be back.”



After my third fitting, Aiden is smiling at me and holding up the book. “That one was in here. It means, Put it in your box. But it literally means, Put my baguette in the oven.”

“I know. The guys we hung out with in France this summer used that one a lot. It just cracked me up that were comparing themselves to a baguette.”

“Well, they are long and hard.”

I can’t help but smirk and laugh at him. “Yeah, exactly. Learn anything else?”

“La chatte.”

“p-ssy. It sounds prettier in French, don’t you think? Like, not as dirty.”

Aiden bursts out laughing.

“What?”

“I could so make a comment about dirty p-ssy, but I will refrain.”

I smack his shoulder. “Gross, Aiden. How about la touffe?”

“Oh, I saw that one.” He scans through a page. I see he’s already written in the book. Marked it all up.

“Muff.”

“Yeah, but translated, it means, the tuft.”

“I can see why you need to know the slang. I mean think of all the normal words we use that aren’t sexual, but said right, have that meaning.”

“Like your hammering, pounding, nailing, screwing?”

“Exactly. That’s just basic carpentry.

Keatyn Monroe.



“Saved the best costume for last, huh?” Aiden says to me when I’m finished with my last fitting.

“Figures you would like the cheerleading costume, seeing as it’s pretty skimpy.”

“T’es super sexy comme ca.”

“I looked super sexy like that, huh?”

“Well, all your costumes for the play are nice. Do you like them?”

“Yeah. The ball gown for the big dance is kind of lame.”

“You don’t like the ball gown?”

“Let’s just say it’s not what I would wear.”

“What would you wear?”

I know my answer right away. It’s the dress that I pictured in a dream.

“I had this dream once that I wrote down. The dress in it was gorgeous. The most gorgeous dress I’ve ever seen. That’s the dress I’d want to wear.”

He grins at me. “Tell me about it. And the dress.”

“Okay, so you fade in on a beach that’s bathed in moonlight. A young prince is riding down the beach on a white stallion. A girl is also on the beach. She’s wearing a gorgeous pink strapless gown with a corseted waist. The skirt of the dress is layer upon layer of pale pink ruffles. Her hair is half-up, the rest is cascading in curls onto her shoulders. A tall, dark man dressed in a black suit has a hold of the princess’ wrist and is dragging her up the beach to the dragon’s lair. The Princess yells, Help! The Dark Man says, No one is going to hear you scream. But the Prince does hear her scream. He turns his horse around and gallops toward the noise. He sees the girl. And instantly falls in love. He’d do anything to protect her. He jumps off his steed and pulls out his sword. Fights the Dark Man to the death. Then he turns his attention toward the princess, who was knocked to the ground in the scuffle. The Princess turns to face her rescuer and she recognizes his handsome face. That’s it. It’s just a short scene.”

“It’s amazing. So who was the Prince? How did she know him?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know yet. It came from a dream I had. When I dreamed it, I felt that she knew him. That she recognized him. But I didn’t see his face in my dream.”

“You need to figure it out. Finish the story.”

“Yeah, maybe. Hey, so I’m done.” I glance at my phone. “I’m going to see Dawson for a little bit before curfew.”



Three slutty girls.

10:45pm



I stop off to give Dawson a goodnight kiss after my fittings. Well, a couple kisses, then head to my dorm before curfew.

I’m studying my lines when I get a text from his little brother.



Braxton: I stopped cussing for Lent.



Me: It’s not Lent.



Braxton: Haha. I know. So, my brothers suck.



Me: Do I dare ask why?



Braxton: Dirty girl. They suck cuz they won’t help me with girls. I think they’re afraid I will learn too well and they won’t have a shot when I’m around.



Me: I think you might be right about that.



Braxton: Tell me what girls want.



Me: I think that depends on the girl. Also depends what kind of girl you want.



Braxton: Right now, I’d like a trio of slutty girls. All naked together in my room with nothing to do but me.



Me: Let’s try to deal with reality.



Braxton: I was. I originally wanted a harem.



Me: Fine. Three slutty girls it is.



Braxton: Actually, what I need is experience.



Me: Dallas told me a really fun pickup line a while ago. It totally would have worked on me. And you’re funny. You could probably pull it off.



Braxton: What was it?



Me: He goes, “Did you have Lucky Charms this morning?” And I was like, “No, why?” And he said, “Cuz you look magically delicious.”



Braxton: That’s brilliant.



Me: He also used to have the Psychic Panty Network. He’d guess the color of a girl’s panties. He was shocked by how many girls offered to prove he was wrong. Some even donated their panties. That’s when he started Panties for the Poor. That didn’t last very long though. Then he started trying to guess cup size. He got talked to by the school about that. (Sexual harassment, or something.) Now he’s on to pickup lines.



Braxton: Tell him I totally worship him. And text me his next pickup line.





Tuesday, October 11th

Arrested or hospitalized.

7am



I hate getting up at the crack of dawn for Social Committee meetings, but I always try to dress especially cute for them. It puts me in a better mood.

Today I have a sweet and innocent look. I’m wearing the longer navy pleated skirt, a white Burberry stretch cotton tie-neck blouse, and my red cardigan. With it, an amazing pair of navy Prada gold-studded platform sandals, a gold Proenza Schouler suede bag, and a preppy Juicy Couture red and navy striped headband with a golden crest.

Brad stands up in front of us and says, “Well, I think it’s safe to say that the Homecoming after-party was a huge success. The staff loved not having to worry about or chaperone us. No one was arrested or hospitalized. And the students all seemed to have a blast. I know I did.”

Everyone starts talking about the party. About how much fun they had.

Finally, Brad raises his hand in the air. “Because of its success, people are expecting big things from our first themed weekend. I’m a little worried about it being held in conjunction with the Prospective Student Weekend. We’re going to have to keep things very clean, but still make it fun. Peyton, you want to share what we’ve got roughed out so far.”

“Sure,” Peyton says while she consults the notes on her laptop. “Saturday day will mostly be the Olympic-style competitions. Logan is working with the athletic department to organize all that. We’ll have some fun, easy games that everyone can participate in. Some events for teams.” She turns to Logan. “Logan?”

“Well, I think games that everyone can play is fun, but if we want to go authentic, there should also be a competition for our elite male athletes.”

“You do know that the original elite male athletes competed in the nude?” I say to Logan.

Not that I’ve researched that sort of thing.

Logan gives me a dirty look.

“What? You’re the one that wants it to be authentic. I’m just trying to help.”

Whitney, surprisingly, takes up my cause. “We’ll clean it up and make them compete shirtless. And they must wear white all weekend so they are easily identifiable as the elite Olympians.”

Logan looks to Brad for help.

Peyton decides to add her two cents worth. “It would impress the female half of the prospective students and give the male half something to aspire to. What kind of competitions will you have?”

Logan goes on. “In Greek history, it’s said that the Olympics were started to entertain the newborn Zeus. They had wrestling, jumping, and running competitions. I think we should focus on those.”

“Oh,” I say. “And the winner will be declared an Olympian god, and we will wear togas to the feast in his honor and celebrate with Greek food, song, dance, and, hopefully, a little mead.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Peyton says, entering the details in her laptop, which signifies to us all it’s a done deal. “What about Friday night?”

“This is sort of off the wall,” I admit. “But what if we watched the sing-along version of Mama Mia?”

Sheila, who has the lead of the Queen Mother in the school play, practically squeals. “That would be so much fun.” She looks at the guys. “If you get to be Greek gods, we should get to have some fun too.”

“The new students would just be getting here and I think it would be sort of a fun icebreaker, since it’d be interactive.”

Brad says, “Done. Let’s go get some coffee.”



I meet up with Riley and Dallas for breakfast. Apparently Camden told Dawson that he was losing tone. So he’s been on a morning protein shake kick, since, well, yesterday. As much as he likes a huge breakfast of bacon and eggs, I doubt it will last long. Plus, his brother was totally giving him shit. His tone looks very fine to me.

Dallas finishes up his breakfast and says, “When Katie and I had our little fling, I starting slacking in testing pickup lines. It’s time to dust them off and get them back out there.

“When you and Katie had your little fling, I hardly saw you. I missed you.”

He smiles at me. “I missed you guys too.” He laughs. “Okay, that’s sort of a lie. I was having fun, but I should have made time for you.”

I nod, agreeing with him “So what pickup line is up for today?”

“I’m not sure, but, Kiki, have you always been so cute?”

I look at him kind of funny, wondering what that has to do with anything. “Uh . . .”

“Or did it take practice?” he finishes.

I break out in laughter. “Oh, that’s really cute.” I smile at him. “Get it? Cute?”

Riley rolls his eyes at us. “You’re both so incredibly lame.” He picks up his coffee cup and holds it out in front of us. “Want to hear a secret?”

“I do. Is it Homecoming gossip?”

“I grind so fine, I’m practically coffee,” he says with a straight face, then busts out a grin.

“That is so lame. That has to be a Camden line.”

Riley laughs then says, “Wait a minute. Why is Dallas’ pickup line cute and mine’s not?

“When Dallas does them, like the magically delicious line and this one too, he’s giving me a compliment. In yours, you are giving yourself a compliment. Unless the guy is really hot and I’m looking to get picked up, I would probably flip you off, laugh in your face, or suggest you and your hand have their own party.”

“At least my hand never tells me no,” Riley says sort of seriously. Which causes Dallas to start laughing again.

“Dude, it’s like we’ve switched roles. You were the player and now, thankfully, I am.”

My eyes get big. “Dallas?! Did you have sex with someone else? Do I need to have a talk with you? Who else have you played with?”

“Cool your panties. No, I haven’t slept with anyone else. But I am working on it, so you can skip the sex talk.”

“How about a responsible sex talk? You know that you need to be responsible, right?”

“Thanks, Mom, but I know to wrap it up.”

“Dallas, it’s not a present. I’m serious about this.”

Dallas slaps Riley on the back as the bell rings. “I’m going to use Riley’s condoms before they dry rot.”

Riley shakes his head. “That is so not cool.”



Wet and wearing a towel.

5:45pm



I was sneaky during drama today. I mentioned to the Costume Director that I have some really cool silver sequined ribbon that would look great across the bottom of the cheerleading skirt I’ll wear when I meet The Good Prince and offered to sew it on.

I’ll sew it on later tonight but, for now, I have the costume on under a pair of Dawson’s sweats and a big sweatshirt.

He told me if I wore the skimpy thing to his room, he wouldn’t give me shit about the play. And with practices starting tonight, I want to make sure he’s fully supportive.

But, before I surprise him, I stop at Riley’s room to give him the fluffy rug. I ordered a new one last night. Everyone loves sitting on it and I think the rug is half the reason we always seem to congregate in Katie’s and my room.

But Riley earned it.

He and Dallas aren’t in there, so I spread it out in the space between their beds and head to Dawson’s room.



“Dawson?” I’m not sure why I’m calling out to an empty room, but his bathroom door opens immediately.

“Just got out of the shower.”

He’s wrapped in nothing but a damp white towel and it’s clear he hasn’t actually dried off yet. There are still beads of water sliding down his muscular chest. One is running straight down the center of his body, through his thick ab muscles and toward the towel.

I quickly move closer to him. My hand drawn to the bead of water. I catch it before it hits the towel, then run my fingertip back up its path.

“You should be wet and wearing a towel every time I stop by.”

“And you have way too many clothes on,” he replies with a grin.

I look down at his baggy sweats. “There’s kind of a reason for that.”

I run and lock his door, then stand in front of his bed, and strip the sweats off. Showing him the skimpy cowboy-style cheerleader costume.

He grins at me, drops his towel to the floor, and practically leaps across the room, knocking both of us onto his bed.

“You have play practice every night this week, don’t you?”

“Yeah, and you promised not to give me shit about it if I wore this for you.” I move out from under him.

I stand in front of the bed, to give him a good view of the costume, then slide off my underwear and toss them on his desk.

“That’s even better. You gonna do a cheer for me?”

“That’s the plan.”

“I like the plan.” He rolls onto his side and puts his arm under his head. “Go team! Go.”

I do a half cheer, half dance thing. Making sure that the skirt flips up a lot in the process.

Since he’s lying there naked, it’s pretty easy to tell that he’s enjoying it.

He jumps up off the bed and unties the little center tie that holds the top together.

I take off the rest of the costume and lay it carefully across his chair.

“Come here, my little cowgirl,” he says as he pulls me back on the bed.





Shut up and look pretty.

7pm



I’m first up at play practice tonight. We’re practicing the scene right before the Queen Mother tells her sons, the Good Prince and the Bad Prince, that the first one of them to marry will win the throne. She will also tell them about the reality-show-style contest and how it will all conclude with a rose ceremony at a ball in the Royal Gardens.

I’m cheering at a football game where the Good Prince, Jake, is enthralled by my dancing. After the game he gets someone to introduce us. It’s a fun scene. We have one of those instant, amazing connections. Sparks. Witty banter. Then he boldly asks me for a date.

We run through it a few times before Jake gets the lines right during the instant connection part. “That’s what I’m looking for,” our director says. “Okay, next up. Good Prince, Bad Prince, and Queen Mother.”



I go back to the spot where Aiden is waiting for me. He agreed to meet me here for tutoring during the play, which should work well. It means I’m able to spend time with Dawson after football practice and then go to dinner with him.

Aiden says, “Maybe we should have a ball at my Royal Vineyard.”

“Did I miss the part where you told me you’re really a Prince?” I tease.

He gives me an easy laugh. The deep laugh he does when he’s entertained. “Afraid not. But it would be cool to do something like that at our house. I can’t wait to live there again.”

“Really? What do you want to do? Like, don’t you want to go to college?”

“Yeah, I do. I’d like to play soccer in college. Get my degree. Maybe see about getting drafted into the Major Soccer League. It’d be cool to play pro for a bit.”

“You seem like you’re good enough.”

“I don’t know. A lot depends on how you do in college and if you stay healthy.”

“Then what? Do you know what you’ll major in? What kind of job you want?”

Aiden leans back in his chair and crosses his feet on the top of the seat in front of him. “I’ll probably major in business. But I’ll get my trust fund soon and if I live reasonably, I’d never have to get a job. But I want to work.”

“Doing what?”

“Don’t laugh, okay?” he says seriously.

“I won’t.”

“I’d like to produce and sell my own wine.”

“Why would I laugh about that? That’s totally cool.”

“What about you? Still thinking about acting? I can’t believe you had your lines memorized for that first scene already.”

“I have almost all my lines completely memorized, not just the first scene. And yes, I still think I’d like to act. Not very many actresses make it big though, so I’d have my work cut out for me.”

Especially if I don’t use my mom’s name to get auditions.

Not that it matters. I couldn’t be on a big screen anyway with Vincent still looking for me.

“So do you dream of winning an Academy Award?”

“Not really. I know it’s a big deal, but I’d rather be in big blockbuster-type hits. Movies that really entertain people.”

“Like the Trinity series. Those movies are badass, but they will probably never win those types of awards.”

“Exactly. I'd like to be in moves like that. And romantic comedies. Not the all serious cry-me-a-river roles. Like The Notebook.”

“You don't like The Notebook?”

“I love it. It’s just not what I want to play.”

“You can cry on command.”

I laugh again. “Yeah, that's true. But I write scripts too. Maybe I’ll do that instead.”

“You write scripts?”

“I used to. I was a weird kid. Instead of writing stories and poems, I wrote screenplays.”

“What made you want to do that?”

Uh, crap. What did?

“I got to go on one of those backstage type tours for school. Someone’s dad worked for a production company. They let us sit in a live studio audience. I came home and told my mom I wanted to write a fairytale movie, so she helped me look up how format a script.”

“I think that’s really cool. You said that you used to write them. Does that mean you don’t anymore?”

“I stopped writing them when I came here.”

“Why?”

“I decided to start living life without a script, I guess you could say. I was kinda lame. I thought I could get my life to follow a script. Like I could write the script for the perfect life and then live it.”

“But that didn’t work?”

“Not really. For scripts to work, everyone has to a have a copy and know their lines.”

“Tell me about one of them.”

“I told you one last night. The one with the dress in it.”

Cheerleader, Good Prince, Bad Prince. You’re up.

“I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later, Aiden.”



I go back on stage. This is the scene where my character and The Good Prince—although at this point, I don’t know that he’s a prince—share an amazing date. Because the play itself is a comedy spoof, we have one of those only-in-the-movie dates where you’re together all day and do like a million different things. In the play, they all happen very quickly and it’s pretty funny for the audience because as Jake and I are onstage, the background behind us quickly scrolls through different settings. In the last one, we are on a beach in the moonlight and share our first kiss. It’s supposed to be a magical true love kiss. One that the Bad Prince sees. The Queen Mother has already told the princes about the contest. And although I’m not a contestant yet, the Bad Prince schemes to make me one, so that I will find out that my true love didn’t tell me the truth about being a prince, which will make me question our love.

Jake whispers to me before we start. “Are we supposed to do the kiss?”

“I don’t know. Just listen for the director. Seems like mostly he’s been working on line delivery and where he wants us on the stage. If he doesn’t tell us to stop, keep going.”

I close my eyes for a second and become her. The girl with big dreams. The girl who believes that fairytale love does exist.

Jake and I run through our lines, moving across the stage on our fantasy date, and then coming to stand center stage, where a large moon is dropped down behind us. It’s really cheesy and pretty funny that we share our kiss with this huge golden moon literally directly behind us.

Jake and I turn to face each other.

His hands are down by his sides, so I gently take them in mine. I slowly lean in toward him until our lips barely touch.

“And, stop there,” the director says. “What you did, Keatyn. How you held his hands. That was perfect and it looked beautiful in front of the moon. Jake, your body position was a little off. I’d like to see you both lean in at the same time.”

I come down from the stage feeling practically giddy. Like a girl that did just fall in love. Only I’m in love with this play. With the process. I feel fulfilled and at home up there.

Maybe someday.

I look at the moon that is being pulled back toward the ceiling and start to make a wish on it.

No, wait.

I’m not going to wish on it this time. I’m going to make it a promise.

If I get my life back . . .

No, when I get my life back, I’m not going to let anything stop me. Not fear of embarrassing my mom. Not fear of failure. Not fear of what people might think. I’m going to audition for as many movies as I possibly can. I’m going to live my dream.



I head back to my spot. I still need to study for a vocabulary quiz and do a couple pages of math.

I’m surprised that Aiden is still here.

“Why are you still here? Don’t you have stuff to do?”

“We weren’t done with our conversation.”

“What conversation?”

“You were going to tell me about the scripts you wrote.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Come on. Tell me about one.”

“I already did.”

“So tell me about a different one.”

I hesitate. No one really knows about the scripts that I write except for Damian, and Brooklyn a little. It’s something I’ve sort of kept hidden. Kind of like my acting ambition.

But I know Aiden won’t quit bugging me unless I tell him something.

“Fine. I’ll tell you about a script I worked on this summer. It’s one that could be made into an actual movie someday. It’s not a silly script I wrote to try and plan my life.”

“So will its premiere be the one I’m your arm candy for?”

I smile at him. “Hmmm, probably not,” I say, but then I decide what the heck, I feel like dreaming big tonight. “You will be my arm candy when I walk my first red carpet as an actress. I’ll have a role in a big blockbuster action film.”

“You gonna be a Bond girl?”

That makes me laugh. “I don’t know. That’d be fun, although it seems like they usually die, don’t they? I don’t want to die.”

“Okay, so an action film where you don’t die. You the star?”

“Probably not for my first film. That wouldn’t be very realistic now, would it?”

“So I’m realistic arm candy?”

I roll my eyes and smile at him. “For someone who is supposed to be arm candy, you’re awfully worried about yourself. This is supposed to be my night.”

Aiden leans back in his chair and just stares at me for a minute. His mouth starts to move, like he’s going to say something, but he stops himself. Finally, he says, “If we’re being realistic, we both know that I wouldn’t be your arm candy.”

“Oh,” I say and immediately lower my head.

Aiden doesn’t want to be my hypothetical arm candy?

For some reason that sort of bothers me.

Hypothetically.

He pushes my chin up with his finger and looks into my eyes. “A night like that would be magical. You’d want to share it with someone you love.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t write scripts for my own life anymore. You promised you’d be my arm candy. I wrote the script in my head, and now you’re backing out.” I reach into my bag and grab a pencil and my English notebook. “I have to do some homework.”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No, we’re not done talking.”

“Yeah, we are.” I tap my notebook with my pencil. “I have homework.”

He runs his hand through his hair and sighs. Then he gets up, gathers his books, and leaves.



I struggle through my homework, my mind still trying to figure out why Aiden doesn’t want to be my hypothetical arm candy.

But then I decide I don’t care. I’ll cast someone else.

Dawson is hot; he’d make great arm candy. Of course, I don’t know if he’d want to be arm candy or not. Riley would though. He’d be the perfect eye candy, really. He’s cocky and would love it.

But, unfortunately, Aiden is right. I’d rather share my dream night with my dream guy. I don’t just want arm candy.

But the odds of that happening are slim. Why do you think so many people take their mom to the Oscars? They’ve been working hard, filming all over the place, and don’t have time for love.

I shake my head. This line of thought is silly.

I’ll recast.

I’m walking my dream red carpet with Mom and Tommy. With my family. Not with some guy that can’t just shut up and look pretty.



My phone vibrates with a text that makes me smile.



Dawson: I miss you.



Me: I miss you too.



Dawson: How’s practice going?



Me: It’s good. You should come sometime. I sit around a lot waiting for my scenes. I have all of my homework done. What have you been doing?



Dawson: Well, I was supposed to go play racquetball with Bryce. But after dinner I came back to my room, thinking I’d just lie down for a minute. LOL I just woke up.



Me: Did your cheerleader wear you out?



Dawson: She did ;) Is she coming back tonight?



Me: She isn’t, but I’d like to. I need a goodnight kiss.



Dawson: I’ll be waiting. <3



Rehashing it.

10pm



When I get back to my dorm, I find Annie, Katie, and Maggie sitting on our bare floor.

“Where did the rug go?”

“Oh, I donated it to a worthy cause, but don’t worry. I ordered us a new one. What’s going on in here?”

“We’re talking about Homecoming,” Annie says.

“Rehashing it, really,” Maggie corrects her.

“Did you end up having fun with Parker, Maggie? He seemed to like when we were up there dancing together.”

“He did, but we’re not going anywhere. It’s really more of a friends with benefits thing,”

Annie huffs. “Why would you settle for that? Don’t you want him to ask you out?”

“No. I don’t. We’ve been there. Done that. And it didn’t go well. We fought constantly. Now we never fight.”

“You just have sex,” Annie states.

“That’s not true. What’s true is that when he starts to piss me off, I just leave or tell him to stop it. I didn’t do that when we dated because I didn’t want to mess up our relationship. I have more control now. Besides, it’s not like we have any long-term potential. So this works for us.”

“What will happen if he starts hanging out with someone else?” Annie counters.

“More power to him. I like him and his friends are fun to hang out with.”

“I’ve had bad cramps for the last two days. My body is making me pay.”

I lean over and give her a hug. “I’m sorry you don’t feel well. Have you talked to Tyrese at all?”

“No, he’s avoiding me like the plague. Like, we almost ran into each other in the hall and he literally turned around and walked the other way.”

I decide a change of topic might be good. “Are you and Ace good, Annie?”

“We’re perfect. He was such a gentleman and I loved getting to meet his mom. It was a dreamy weekend.” She smiles and her cheeks flush. “And he loved the back of my dress. He kept putting his hand on my naked skin while we were dancing. It was hot.”

Maggie’s eyes get huge. “It was hot?”

“Yes, it was. Just because he makes me hot doesn’t mean we are going to do anything. Some people can restrain themselves,” she says, very judgmentally. She instantly puts her hand up to her mouth. “Oh, Katie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just meant . . .”

“It’s okay, Annie,” Katie says. “You better get going. It’s almost curfew.”

“Oh,” Annie says, looking at the clock. “I guess you’re right.”



Jumping out of the bushes.

Midnight.



Katie is fast asleep.

I’m sewing the sequined trim onto the cheerleading costume.

My phone vibrates.



Riley: Cave tonight?



Me: I probably shouldn’t.



Riley: Me and Ariela are over.



Me: WTF??!! Why???!!!! What happened?



Riley: I’ll tell you at the Cave.



Me: Tell me now.



Riley: Dallas is coming. We’ll discuss then.



At one o’clock, I pull on a pair of sweat pants, grab a jacket, and sneak out of my room.

Riley jumps out of the bushes just as I crawl out of the window. He covers my mouth with his hand and muffles my scared scream.

“Shhh,” he says.

“Don’t jump out of the bushes at people and they won’t scream. Where’s Dallas?”

“He’s already there. Even though we made it through Homecoming and I’m sure everything is fine, I didn’t want you to walk by yourself.”

“Aww, thanks, Riley.”

We get to the Cave and find Dallas already smoking. We sit down next to him and Riley spreads a blanket out over our legs. It’s starting to get chilly at night.

“So what happened?” I immediately ask.

“Smoke first. Questions later,” Riley replies. I can tell he’s upset.

Dallas says, “We’re still keeping the rug.”

“What’s this got to do with the rug?”

“Everything,” Riley says with a sigh. He hands me the joint and starts talking. “So, tonight, Ariela came to my room. I mean, we had a great time at Homecoming. A really great time. I didn’t get a hotel room because I didn’t want her to think that I expected sex. But then you gave me the rug.”

“And?”

“And she came to my room tonight . . .” he hesitates.

“And?” I say again.

“And we were kissing on the rug. She liked it. Loved it. Commented about how soft it is. Then I sort of blurted out how I want to do her on it. How I’ve been thinking about it. Then I made a move.”

“And she got pissed?”

“Yeah. Said she wants to be more than just sex. Of course, then I got pissed and asked if she was still talking to that guy from home. She said yes. I told her I haven’t been talking to anyone since we started talking. Then I got more pissed. Told her I’d been going slower than I’ve ever gone in my life and I was sick of it. It went downhill from there.”

I put my arm around his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Dallas puts his arm around my shoulder. “What about me?”

“What about you kissing a girl in front of the whole math class? Are you even upset? Did you do that just to get back at her?”

“I was hurt at first. I’ve never been completely ditched like that. Then I was pissed. Then I just wanted to get even.”

“Because she hurt you.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I give him a big hug. He wraps me in a hug and rubs his hands down my back. “I’m very, very hurt. I need you to help cheer me up, sweetie.”

I wiggle out of his grip. “You’re so full of shit,” I say with a laugh.

He laughs too. “Fine. I don’t really give a shit.”

“I give a shit,” Riley says pathetically. “For the first time in my life, I really give a shit. And it sucks.”

“So are you going to try and win her back?”

“Nope. She wants to talk to other guys behind my back, then I’m going to be talking to other girls in front of her.”

“You’re going to try and make her jealous?”

“No. I’m done with her. I was really, excruciatingly, patient with her. I did everything I could to make her feel special. And if she’s going to be pissed at me because I got hot and tried something, f*ck her. A simple no would have sufficed.”

Dallas says, “All right. You need to chill.” Then he passes him back the joint.