“Really? I’ve been praying all summer that I’d get to hear you say that.”
I start talking fast. “I thought I was going to stay with him. I'm supposed to be in love with him, but then you walked in my house, and you gave me those boots, and they just sum up everything. Vanessa only likes me when I’m dressed and made-up perfectly, like when I’m an expensive designer boot. Brooklyn only likes me when I’m in a bikini with no makeup on, like I’m an old, worn-out boot. The boots you gave me are both. I can’t be myself when I’m with either one of them. I don’t want to just live in their worlds. I want to live in my world.”
He puts a finger up to my lips. “Shhh.” He pulls me into a tight hug and whispers into my ear. “Relax, Keatyn.”
I take a deep breath and nuzzle my face into his shoulder. His strong, muscular shoulder.
“It’s not just your world, Keatyn. It’s our world.”
“I’m going to be different this year. I just want you to know. We’ll sit with Vanessa, but I’m not letting her control me. I’m going to run for Student Council, try out for dance team, join the drama club, and help plan prom.”
“Prom, huh? You know, it’ll be my senior prom, and just so you know, you’re going to be my date.” He laughs and pulls me closer. “And, girl, we’re gonna do it up big. I’m talking party bus, big dinner, lots of pictures, lots of dancing, but then . . .”
“Then, what?”
“Then, it’s all about you and me. Private limo to our suite on the beach. Champagne. Walking hand in hand on the beach in the moonlight. Then back to our room. And you know I can do up a hotel room.”
“It sounds perfect, Cush. Just like a dream.”
“Our dream.” He leans back a little and looks into my eyes. “I don't care if you said it to a million different guys all summer long. When you told me you loved me just now, did you mean it?”
I nod my head on his shoulder.
All bullshit aside, I did.
I wrap my arms around his neck and lace my fingers through his thick hair that has grown out over the summer.
He touches my forehead with his and says, “Come on, birthday girl. As much as I’d like to stay here and kiss, this is your night. You need to be out on the dance floor soaking up the spotlight.”
I gently kiss his cheek as my insides melt away to a pile of goo.
Finally, a boy who understands my love of the spotlight and encourages it.
He pulls my hand, and I follow him out to the center of the dance floor.
Vanessa, RiAnne, Sander, and pretty much our entire lunch table, past and present, are dancing around us.
Cush is getting sweaty and, well, I've yet to see those new muscles. I grab Vanessa’s flask, do another shot, then unbutton Cush’s shirt.
He laughs at me, but is totally into it. I push his shirt off his shoulders, and then wave it above my head.
The girls around us scream, and the other guys quickly follow suit.
I don’t pay attention to the other guys though. I'm too busy staring at Cush’s chest. What was once thin and lean is now bulky and thick. His shoulders look broader. His pecs have new definition. There are thick rows of ab muscles. His arms are jacked, and every bit of him is perfectly tanned.
“You think I'm hot, don't ya?” he teases.
I nod my head yes and plant little kisses across his chest.
I take a break from dancing to run use the restroom.
The whole time I'm peeing, I'm thinking Vanessa was right.
My relationship with Sander was a sham.
Is that what I'm doing again? Am I getting wrapped up in a thing with Cush because it feels right? Because I think he gets me? Or is it because he's really hot and makes me feel sexy?
And what about Brooklyn?
The guy who’s supposed to love the real me. The guy who wishes I would avoid the spotlight, but doesn't seem to want to avoid it himself. When I came back home, I thought I had it all figured out.
I think about the boots Cush gave me.
It's not a sham with him. No way. I know it's not.
It wasn’t a sham with Brooklyn either, though. What I feel—well, felt—for him was real. I love everything about Brooklyn. I always have. But he doesn't seem to love all of me like I thought he did.
And that’s not fair to me.
Whatever I do this year, I'm going to be me.
I finally get what Grandpa was saying, and I'm embracing it this year.
Inspired by his words, I say out loud from the bathroom stall, “Watch out world, I'm fixing to be me!”
I go back out and dance with Cush. The music stops with a screech, and I hear a voice I recognize say, “Keats, get your ass up on this stage.”
The crowd forms an aisle and somehow the spotlight finds me and follows me through the crowd.
I bound onto the stage and throw my arms around Damian. "I can't believe you're here!"
He kisses my cheek. “I wouldn't miss this for anything. Happy Birthday, Keats.”
He speaks into the microphone. “I’d like you all to join me in singing Happy Birthday. Then if Keats’ll let us, Twisted Dreams might play a few songs.”