Is that so much to ask?
He says, “I, uh, no, it’s not that. She tagged us both. She added titles to the pictures like Cutest couple EVER, SOOOO ROMANTIC!!!!, and Submitting to MTV Awards as the BEST KISS OF THE YEAR! I know that people have seen us kiss and stuff. I don’t know. I guess I just wasn’t prepared for it to be quite so public.”
Public?
He’s embarrassed of me?
Me?!
Wow.
I realize now why it seemed like people were murmuring behind me during my classes this morning. Why some girl I’ve never met asked me if I was going out with Dawson.
Who knew that while my head was sleeping happily on my pillow other events were occurring, unfolding, whatever you would call it. These photos are like the shot heard ’round the world. Honestly, I don’t know what the shot heard ’round the world was. Seems like I studied that at some point during History. I can’t remember, but I’m pretty sure that this Facebook post was like that shot.
Remind me to never go to bed so early.
Dawson is looking down at the table. He’s fidgeting, rubbing his fingers together nervously. He knows he’s being a jerk. And I know for sure that he’s not over Whitney, no matter what he says.
I touch his hand and say slowly, “Hey, don’t worry about it. If you’re that embarrassed, untag yourself, and I’ll make sure that we don’t kiss in public—or in private, for that matter—ever again.”
I shove my chair away from the table.
Get up.
Throw my untouched lunch into the trash.
As if I haven’t had enough, Whitney meets me at the trash. She tosses a single napkin in the barrel.
“Great photos on Facebook.” Then she lowers her voice. “Obviously, he’s embarrassed. I told you, you’re just fresh meat. I remember how he always posted pictures of us on Facebook. He still loves me, you know.”
I don’t say a word to her, just storm outside, to a bench far away from the scene of the crime.
I very feel alone. I look at my phone, sigh, and text Brooklyn.
Me: Sorry for the other night. I’m still kind of reeling from everything that’s happened. From my life being turned upside down. I’m confused. You say things that confuse me. Half the time you act like you want to be just friends. The other half, it seems like you want us to be more.
B<3: I’m sure you are. And I’m sorry too. I know you were upset about the tour. I know that I handled things badly. But you’ll always be my friend. I’ll always love you. We’re not over. At least I hope we’re not. But for us to get through this, for us to possibly be together long term, we’re going to have to be flexible in our relationship. I’m trying to keep you in my life. I want you in my life.
Me: Maybe I should just come back home and face him. I don’t think I can do this here. I miss you. I miss everyone.
B<3: Do you really miss me or are you just having a rough day?
Me: It hasn’t been the greatest of days :(
B<3: Give it some time.
I read his text then throw my phone in my backpack. What he said was sweet and probably both true and wise but, really, it doesn’t make me feel any better. I lean back and close my eyes. Tell myself to be chill. Tell myself I’m at the beach. Pretend I can feel the salty air, the ocean breeze.
I start to daydream.
FADE IN: A BEACH IN MALIBU 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 on the princess’ wrist and is dragging her up the beach to the dragon’s lair.
PRINCESS KEATYN
Help!
DARK MAN
No one is going to hear you scream.
The prince hears the fair maiden’s 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 man to death.
Then he turns his attention toward the princess, who was knocked to the ground in the scuffle.
PRINCESS KEATYN
(Turns to face her rescuer. And recognizes his handsome face.)
Someone sits down on the bench next to me.
I open my eyes and see Dallas.
“You sure told him,” he laughs.
“What are you talking about?”
“Dawson. How you basically said you weren’t gonna kiss him again. And, by the way, are your panties purple today? It feels like they are.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. Dallas is freaking funny. And he has a way of being funny at just the right times.
“Close, they’re pink. Hot pink.”
“Yeah, I told you about lying to me, Kiki. I think you’re definitely lying. I’m gonna have to call for a panty check.”