"You've been dating him for over a year.”
“I know. We really haven’t done much more than kiss.”
Brooklyn giggles and takes another hit. "That's awesome. The way he always has his hands all over you, I thought for sure you were doing it.”
"It's not awesome. It's totally embarrassing. It’s like I’m not desirable.”
He grins at me and nods his head up and down. "You should definitely break up with him." Then he stands up and says, “Come on,” pulls me up off the sand, and walks me to my door.
He leans against the mahogany door outside my bedroom. “You’re still coming with me tomorrow night, right?"
“Tomorrow night?” What is tomorrow night?
“Damian’s last gig?”
Duh. “Of course; I wouldn’t miss it. I’m sorry, B. I just have a lot on my mind right now.”
I look up into his eyes.
He smiles, leans in, and kisses the side of my head. Kind of by my temple. While his lips are still lingering close to my ear, he says, "For the record, Keats, you are very desirable."
Then he turns and walks away.
I don't dare move or take a breath. I want to relive his words over and over. I want to feel the spot where his lips touched my face. The fire that I just don't feel when Sander kisses me.
I plan out the scene in my mind. One of the many different scenes I’ve scripted for the story of my life but have yet to live.
FADE IN: MALIBU BEACH HOUSE
THE DECK BATHED IN THE MOONLIGHT.
A young couple says goodnight. The handsome surfer heads home, so the young blonde slips out of her wet and sandy dress. She’s wearing only her bra and panties.
KEATYN
(Lays dress across chaise to dry.)
BROOKLYN
(Comes back up the stairs. Sees her with no dress on. His eyes run hungrily down her body.)
KEATYN
(Shocked and slightly embarrassed at first.)
You’re back.
BROOKLYN
(Swallows hard. Desire fills his eyes.)
KEATYN
(Feeling bold, she takes a step closer to his waiting arms.)
(They share a passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that makes a girl feel desired.)
(His hands slide down her back, leaving what feels like a trail of fire behind them. The kiss is better than either one had ever imagined.)
BROOKLYN
Break up with him, and be with me.
I stand on the deck, bite my lip, and watch him walk up the beach. I don't care what my friends think. Kisses like that would be worth it.
Who cares if I’m not popular anymore?
Now if only I could get Brooklyn to follow my script. To want to play his role.
I give the beach one last look, then turn and go inside.
I grab one of my mom’s romances off my desk and read the racy parts. I pretend that Brooklyn does all those things to me.
Can’t live without me. Can’t breathe when I’m around. He kisses me hard, pushes me onto the bed, and does all the other stuff they talk about. And it’s not just the sex that I want.
I want it all.
A hot guy; one who’s sweet and sexy at the same time. One who wants me so badly he can barely control himself. One who stands up for what he believes in.
One who wouldn’t care what his friends thought.
And, maybe, one who’s been staring at the moon, too.
Saturday, May 14th
You’re single. I’m single.
8:25am
I wake up feeling determined, so I call RiAnne. She’s not as bitchy as Vanessa. Since Vanessa is the Queen Bee at our school, she can get anyone to do whatever she wants, and if they don’t, she’ll make their life a living hell.
Been there. Seen it. Burned the t-shirt.
“Have you talked to Vanessa this morning?” she asks me.
“No, have you?”
“Yeah, and girlfriend, trust me, you don’t want to. She’s super hungover and is being The. Biggest. Bitch. Ever. I called and asked if she wanted get a smoothie, and she about bit my head off.”
“Last night she offered to sleep with Sander.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. He’s about the only boy left at school that she hasn’t slept with.” She laughs. “Like, I’m not calling her a slut or anything; it’s just a fact.”
“I know what you mean. If I tell you something, promise not to tell her?”
“Last night she told me that my roots were showing and that she thought she saw cellulite on my thigh. I don’t even know why I called her. I have an emergency root touch up with Leonardo this morning and then I’m going to yell at my trainer. As hard as that man works me, there shouldn’t be an ounce of fat on me.”
“RiAnne, you don’t have cellulite. Vanessa says stuff like that when you look really pretty because she knows it undermines your confidence.”
“You’re right. I should’ve told her what I thought of her dress. She should not be wearing horizontal lines on those hips of hers.” She giggles then says, “Don’t tell her I said that.”
“I won’t. Pinky swear,” I say, making the ultimate promise. “I’m going to break up with Sander.”