by Jillian Dodd
She drones on.....and on....and on.
Riley drops his head down into his hands, like he can’t go on any longer.
I look at Dawson, bug my eyes out at him and then at her, thinking this is the time he could actually help his brother. Make them closer.
He squints his eyes at me, trying to figure out what to do. Finally he says, “Hey Audrey, shut. the. fuck. up. We’re trying to watch the game.”
She gets a shocked look on her face, looks at Riley like he should stick up for her. Instead he says, “Look Audrey, we hooked up, but I really don’t want to hang out with you. We’re not dating. We’re not anything. So why don’t you go sit with your friends?”
Then it’s me who gets the big eyes. I can’t believe he just said that! (He’s standing up for his little bro. Harsh, but sweet at the same time.)
Tyrese says, “Damn dude, that was harsh,” as Audrey is stomping down the stairs.
Riley shakes his head, “I know. I’m not usually that mean. I just couldn’t take her babbling on ANYMORE!”
Dawson slaps him on the back and says, “That was legit, bro.” Riley beams at the compliment.
And I just felt a little bit of brother bonding. I smile at Dawson and snuggle up between his legs. It’s starting to get cold, and this little tank top is not doing it for me.
“You have goosebumps,” he says, running his hands down the sides of my arms.
“I know, I should have brought a jacket. It’s okay, the games almost over.”
“No, hang on. I’ve got a sweatshirt down in my football locker.” He gets up, jogs down the bleachers and disappears. A few minutes later, he comes back up with a big Cougar Athletic hoodie and hands it to me. (Oh, the things we will do with that hoodie later…go, team!)
I put it on. It’s huge and snuggly on me. He sits back behind me, and I snuggle back up between his legs.
When the game’s over, he walks me back to the student center. We get some coffees to warm up. I’m sitting here wearing his hoodie with his last name emblazoned across my back, when Aiden walks in with his friend, Nick.
And just when I thought I was pulling myself out of his forcefield, he takes one look at me. And it wasn’t a big look, it was more of a sneaky sideways glance, that if I wouldn’t have been watching very closely, I probably would have missed it. And with that simple glance, his powerful eyes pull me back in like a tractor beam. I just want to scream at him, RELEASE ME!! Release me! Let me go!
How can you feel so strongly about a person you have only known such a short amount of time? Especially when during that short amount of time, you have felt equal amounts of love, hate and ambivalence toward him. (Love, hate, ambivalence. Isn’t that how love is?)
He and Nick give Dawson a “What’s up?” Then head back out the door. He pretty much ignored me. Well except for the tractor beam incident.
“I better get back to my dorm,” I tell Dawson, “I have a little homework to do.”
He looks at me with a crooked grin, “Is it weird that I want to thank you?”
“Depends what you want to thank me for, I haven’t done anything.”
“Yeah, you have. Last semester was miserable for me, this summer, well you heard how that was, and I was dreading coming back to school to have to be around her and see her and have her hate me. But then she didn’t hate me anymore, and that was almost worse. And you, I don’t know. It’s like you’re healing me, a little bit every time I’m with you.” (Poor, broken Dawson. Don’t you just want to fix him up, too? Kiss him and make it all better? There’s something so endearing about his vulnerability.)
“Trust me, you’re not the only one that needs healing. I still don’t know what I’m going to do about Brooklyn. Did I tell you he is coming to surf in a tournament this weekend? It’s somewhere in New York, and he wants me to come see him. Spend the weekend with him.”
“Hmm, Riley and I were gonna see if you wanted to come with us and some other friends to our house in the Hamptons. Our parents aren’t going to be there. It should be lots of fun.”
“The surf thing is at Long Beach. Is that anywhere close?”
“About an hour or so further south, I think. Do you want to see him?”
“Yeah. I was thinking if I see him it might sorta help me here.”
“How so?”
“You know, knowing what’s right, how I feel, that sorta stuff.”
“I feel jealous, that’s how I feel. Maybe you don’t have to see him all weekend, or you could go see him, and if it’s not the way you want, you can still come up and party with us?”
“Yeah, that’d be good. If I could leave it like open. I don’t know how I’m gonna feel. How he feels. We really didn’t talk about it. Well, we did, but it all seemed so abstract then.”
We’re standing in front of my dorm now. He grabs the strings on his hoodie and pulls me toward him. Straight into his lips. Kisses me and says good night.
I go up to my room. Katelyn isn’t back yet, so I call Brooklyn. Maybe talking to him will help me.
He answers, “Keats! How are you?”
“I’m good! What are you doing?”
“Just sitting out on the deck, drinking a beer, watching the waves. I took a header this morning, smashed up my side a bit, so I’m not surfing tonight.”
“You okay though? You still gonna do that tournament thing this weekend?”
“Hell yeah. You coming to watch me? Stay with me? And um, hopefully, sleep with me?” (So subtle, B.)
“Could you like email me a little more info? Like when I should be there and like will you have time to actually hang out with me and stuff?” (Can you imagine the email? A sexual itinerary?)
“Yeah, but I thought you would just come like the whole weekend though. We could spend the whole time together. Why do you need a schedule?”
“Uh, some friends from school invited me to a party, well it’s like the whole weekend kinda thing, and I was just wondering if I could do both.”
“You can do anything you want, Keats, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Why are you okay with me doing anything I want? Shouldn’t you be jealous or SOMETHING? Do you not care?” (Yes, he should be.)
“Keats, of course I care. You know I love you, but I think we both know it’s more of a best friend kind of love.”
“But in your text you said you wanted to have sex with me again.”
“No. You said you wished we would have done it all summer. I agreed.”
“So do even wanna do it with me again?”
“Well sure, but that’s up to you.”
“OH MY GOSH! That’s NOT what I asked.”
“Well, it’s my answer. There can’t be another answer right now. Long distance relationships don’t work, and you still have some growing up to do before you’re going to be ready anyways.”
“Brooklyn, you are 17 years old. The guy I’m seeing here right now is 18, he thinks I’m grown up just fine!” Shit. I didn’t really mean for that to slip out and also, seeing him? I’m not really seeing him. Am I?
“So that’s whats this about. You’re feeling guilty.”
“Why would I feel guilty? We mean nothing to each other, apparently.”
“Keats, don’t do that. You know I love you.”
“Well if you ask me, best friend love sucks.” (In this case, it most definitely does. But, still, there is something that keeps drawing them back to each other. Through it all. And why he was Aiden’s only real contender for her heart.)
I hang up. He texts me.
Brooklyn <3: I still hope I get to see you this weekend. Bring your new guy, come alone. Sleep with me, don’t. It’s up to you.
Not only does best friend love suck, so does all his zen bullshit. (It’s funny that when she wants to feel all chill with him, she loves his zen, but when she wants a straight answer, and he won’t give it to her, it’s bullshit.)
I do my homework, which consists of reading all the syllabuses signing them and filli
ng out forms and stuff. Then I send Grandma and Grandpa Monroe a quick email telling them all about school, how I like it so far and will keep them updated. I turn the lights off and cover up my head in bed and pretend to be asleep when Katie comes in. (Oh, gosh. I forgot about this. In my first version, her real name was Keatyn Monroe as opposed to Keatyn Douglas.)
Oh my. I’ve turned into my old roommate.
Speaking of friends who kiss.
1:07am
At 1:07, I’m awakened by my phone vibrating in my hand. It’s Dallas calling me. I ignore the call and text him, so I don’t wake up Katie.
Me: Shit, I fell asleep, you at the cave?
Dallas: Yes, ma’am, hurry!
Me: Anyone else there, besides you vampires?
Dallas: nope :)
Me: I’m bringing garlic.
Dallas: I brought herb :)
Me: You’re my hero, seriously.
Dallas: Oh boy, am I gonna hear the life and times of Kiki again? (You have no idea, Dallas.)
Me: Shut up, I’m here.
“Can we not smoke tonight?”
“Sure, but why?”
“I need you level headed.”
“Aye aye, el capitan.”
“Plus, I’ve had about enough of highass boys who don’t give a shit one way or another.”
“Are you referring to muah?”
“No, Brooklyn.”
“Tell me.”
So I do.
And then I say, “So why can’t he just say, I love you, I don’t want you to date anyone else? Or say, I don’t really love you. Why does love screw everything up?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever really been in love.”
“Well I know this. Best friend love, sucks ass.”
“You’re my best friend. I love you. It doesn’t suck. I mean, unless it wants to.”
“You used that joke the other night. It’s still not funny.”
“You need to chill.”
“I’M TIRED OF CHILLING!” (She’s a little touchy here. But I feel her frustration. I dated a guy who drove me nuts like this. I wanted to know where we stood. He didn’t want to “label our relationship.” Seriously, my high school diary is hilarious. And sort of sad at the same time. It’s amazing the little teeny pieces of your own life that somehow end up in your books.)
“Okay, well how about a change of subject?”
“Maybe.”
“What do you think of boarding school so far? Yea or Nay?”
“I like it, I think, so far. How about you?”
“Same. I’m not really homesick. There’s always plenty of stuff to do, and it’s cool that your friends are like always around, but I could see it might get old, like sometimes when you just feel like not being around anyone, that you couldn’t get away. That’s why I like when we come out here on week nights. Just us. Getting away.”
“How’s the psychic panty network coming?”
“It’s doing quite well, actually. You’d be shocked, hell I was shocked, at how many girls will show me their underwear just to prove me wrong.”
“You played good tonight.”
“Thanks. Saw you all snuggled up with Dawes, whats up with that?”
“I have no idea. Same as before. We’re friends, basically. Who kiss.”
“Speaking of friends who kiss,” he replies and pulls me toward his lips.
I’m a boy, I ought to be an expert.
2:30 am, bathroom
Call Mom.
“Hey-woah.” I hear the unmistakable voice my two year old sister, Gracelyn. (Gracie is so stinking cute. I guess if you have made it this far into this story, you deserve to know a little secret. I don’t know when they will be done or when they will release, but I have plotted out a three-book series with an eighteen-year-old Gracie going (well, being sent) to Eastbrooke.)
Why is a two year old up at 11:30pm, you might ask? They have a weird schedule, so they can see Tommy and Mom when they aren’t at work.
“Gracie, it’s Kiki, give Mommy her phone.”
“KI KI KI KI KI KI!!!” she screams into the phone.
“Can I talk to Mommy?”
“NO! No, no, no, no, NO!” I hear clanking, and then it sounds like she’s beating Mom’s new iphone against a wall or the floor.
Shit.
Pretty soon, I hear a commotion, then one of the triplets, probably, Avery, the oldest by a few minutes and most bossy, say, “Gwey-sie, give me Momma’s phone!”
And then Gracie says, “NO!”
I can picture her holding it to her chest, that stubborn little look on her face, “Mine!” (I’m sure if you know a toddler, you can relate. This would have been my daughter at this age.)
Then Avery tattling, “MOMMMAAAA!!!”
Then, click.
About five minutes later, Tommy calls me from his phone.
“Kiki, are you okay, baby?” (Did you notice that both Riley and Tommy call her baby? Coincidence? No. I purposely did that for two reasons. One, because it fits Riley’s cocky personality. Two, because it makes Keatyn feel safe. Which is important in the published version.)
“Yeah, can I talk to mom?”
“She's trying to get the girls settled down. I can talk to you.”
“You can talk to me about boys?”
“Well, I’m a boy, I ought to be an expert.”
I give that some thought. “Wow, I never thought of that. Okay, so what does it mean when a boy stares deep into your eyes, like touches your soul kind of deep. He does something really romantic one minute, but then doesn’t call or text, and then he acts like he hates you the next?”
“I’d say he liked you a lot, but then you did something that upset him.”
“Let me add that he has the reputation of being a player, but with me he is not very smooth.”
“Hmmmm, maybe he’s a good actor, maybe I should meet him.”
“Oh my gosh, Tommy. This guy is waayyyy better looking than an actor. He’s practically a god.”
“The God of all Hotties?”
“How do you know that? Are you like his god mentor? Cuz now that I think about it, you have some powers similar to his.” (LOL) (Also, Tommy is her dream man. Another clue that she’d choose Aiden at the end.)
“Your mother told me you called him that. I swear, I am going to use that line somewhere in my next movie. I laughed so hard!”
“Tommy! This is my personal life here!!! Do not laugh at it.”
“Kiki, calm down. Breathe. If he is a player and was just playing, he will lose interest and move on. If it was love, true love, he will not give up, even if it takes a little while. Be patient. Sometimes true love takes a bit.”
“Mom said she knew the minute she shook your hand.”
“And I contend I knew it before, the second she walked in the room. I just felt this magnetic pull to her. Like gravity.” (This makes me swoon. Someday, I think it would be fun to write the story of when they met.)
“That’s not what she says. She says it took you a while to figure it out.”
“No, I knew. I just didn’t want her to think she had me whipped. And I sorta couldn’t believe it was happening to me. After all the women I’d been with. And then, just boom! I tried to pretend it wasn’t real at first. And don’t forget, I’m a good actor. She couldn’t figure me out. Hey, it’s late there. You should be asleep.”
“Yeah...”
“Get your beauty sleep, baby. Mommy and I love you.”
“I love you too, Tommy, thanks, really.”
Wednesday, August 31st
You have seven minutes to be at class.
7:48am
Stayed up waaay too late last night.
Note to self. Stop staying out until 2:30 with Dallas.
Must have beauty sleep, or some kind of decent sleep. I’m so tired there’s no way I’m going to get breakfast before class. I’ll be lucky to be dressed in today’s uniform combo, which is a plaid skirt, white long sleeved tee under a
red sweater vest. Matching plaid tie, not quite done up, tall white knee highs, red ballet flats, red headband and straight hair. I’m going to have to practically sprint across campus to make it to History before the bell rings.
I text Riley, who has class with me.
Me: Hey, you still at breakfast by chance?
Sex God: Yeah, where are you?
Me: Hung with Dallas last night. Very tired :(
Sex God: I hate you. Invite me next time! (I don’t think in this version Riley and Dallas were roommates. Just realized that.)
Me: Okay :) I’m soooo late, will you bring me some food to class?
Sex God: Sure...what do you want?
Me: Skinny soy chai latte, maybe some of that pound cake? or a banana or a whole grain bagel. Anything really.
Sex God: I’ll see what I can scrounge up.
Me: You are THE best friend ever!!!
Sex God: My brother is becoming obsessed with you.
Me: Haha!! No, he’s not!
Sex God: Um, yeah. You serious about him? I thought you liked Aiden. And he doesn’t need to have some girl string him along, you know?
Me: Um, your brother still loves Peyton, I think I’ll be the one to get strung along. That’s why we are taking things slow, being friends. (This sounds so weird. Also, I love the backstory that comes out later how Peyton dated Camden even though Whitney was in love with him, and how she decided to go after Dawson so they could be the perfect couple.
Sex God: You have 7 minutes to be at class.
Me: Shit!!!
It’s like watching a car wreck.
French class
Annie plops down in her seat a few minutes before class is ready to start and is beaming.
“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!”
