Sex God: I’ll see what I can scrounge up.
Me: You are THE best friend ever!!!
Sex God: My brother’s becoming obsessed with you.
Me: Haha!! No, he’s not!
Sex God: Um, yeah. You serious about him? I thought you were in love with the hottie god. Dawson doesn’t need to have another girl string him along, you know?
Me: Your brother still loves Whitney. That’s why we are just being friends.
Sex God: Friends who kiss, apparently. Btw, you have 7 minutes to be at class.
Me: Shit!!!
Watching a car wreck.
French
Annie plops down in her seat a few minutes before class is ready to start and beams at me.
“Okay, so I was up all night editing, and, oh my gosh, these are some of the best pictures I have ever taken! I can’t wait to show you!”
As she turns on her computer, Aiden sits in his desk behind me.
I realize I forgot to check the back of my hair after lunch. And Dawson was messing with it. Teasing me. Whispering in my ear. He is really pretty freaking cute.
But then there’s Aiden.
Aiden is beyond cute.
Like Buzz Lightyear says, To infinity and beyond.
Aiden is cute to infinity and beyond.
And even though he is sitting behind me and I can’t see his mouth, I still feel his magnetic pull. Like my heart and soul know things my mind doesn’t.
Is it like those birds that migrate back to the same spot every year? Their bodies just know where to fly. Does my body just know that Aiden is where I belong?
OMG!
Stop it!
Stop thinking these stupid, stupid things.
Maybe I should drop French. I think you can still switch classes this week. And, really, I can speak better than the teacher. Plus, do I really need to be tortured by having a god sitting behind me every day?
I tell Annie, “I’m thinking about dropping this class.”
From behind me I hear Aiden say, “Why would you do that?”
“Speak to me in French,” I tell him.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Anything. Ask me where the bathroom is. Tell me you want to order chicken. I don’t care, just tell me a simple sentence.”
“Um, vous êtes une fille.”
“Yes, you’re right, I am a girl. You got anything else?”
“Uh, très jolie?”
“Very pretty? Who is very pretty? You have to make a complete sentence.”
“I’m trying to say you’re very pretty. I just don’t know how.”
“And that is why I’m thinking about switching classes.”
“No, stay. You can tutor me. I suck at French. And, worst case, you get an easy A.”
I rant. “Tutor vous? Comme je pouvais m'asseoir que près de vous et de ne pas être tiré dans votre rayon tracteur. Sérieusement?”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Never mind,” is what I say to him, but what I actually said was, Tutor you? Like I could sit that close to you and not be pulled into your tractor beam. Seriously?
But then I think, maybe tutoring him wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I could see that he’s not really a god. That he’s just a stupid boy. Because shouldn’t the God of all Hotties be able to speak French a little better? I mean, it is the language of love. Shouldn’t he be pre-programmed for that or something?
“I’d really like it if you tutored me.” He sounds both sweet and sincere when he says it and, somehow, I find myself agreeing.
Annie says excitedly, “Here! Look! These pictures turned out so good! Wait! Let me show you my favorite first. I showed it to my teacher this morning, and she says it’s so good, so full of emotion, that I should enter it in the state photography competition. Would you be okay with that? I told her I thought you would be. And, oh, Keatyn, I didn’t tell you! Ace texted me last night after the game! Can you believe that? Isn’t he just so cute?”
I’m like, “Uh, yeah, that’s so exciting. And, um, how about we see the pics, like, later. Um, seriously, you can show me later.”
“No! I can’t wait!”
I try to tell her with my eyes that I really don’t want Aiden to see these pictures. But she is oblivious.
“Okay. Look! This is the one that is so amazing.”
On her screen is a picture of me and Dawson. We’re sitting on the bench under the tree. Dawson and I are looking in each other’s eyes. His eyes are tentative, like he’s trying to decide to kiss me or not, but he has sorta already decided because his body is leaned into mine; one big hand is cupping my waist.