by Jillian Dodd
I have to walk in front of them to go to the concession stand. I really should’ve sent Dallas. Tyrese, who is sitting right next to Dawson, yells at me, “Keatynbaby, come here!”
And I want to pretend like I didn’t hear him, but I’m like a dog, when I hear my name I can't help but turn my head toward the noise.
But guess what, boys? I’m not coming here. I look at him, lift my chin in the air, give them a little princess in the crowd wave, smile and keep on walking.
Get to the concession stand. Decide to feed my depression with food. Buy two hotdogs and three types of candy. I’m stuffing one of the hotdogs into my mouth, quickly eating it, so when I get back to the stands, it will look like I really just bought one and am now sitting in the stands eating it.
My mouth is stuffed full when Dawson rounds the corner and beelines straight to me.
Shit.
I chew as fast as I can and choke down a piece that was way too big to swallow, but I managed, chug some coke, seriously wishing it was laced with rum, as he says, “Keatyn.” (Keatyn is normally a very healthy eater, and this scene cracks me up. Of course, no one is around until you are trying to sneak-scarf a hotdog. And the wishing it was laced with rum…also one of my favs.)
“Hey, Riley’s doing great tonight. You should be proud.” And try to walk past him. He grabs my arm, holding me back.
“I’m sorry, okay,” he says, hanging his head.
“Yeah, okay,” I say back. He just stands there, looking at me. “Anything else you needed?” I ask him. “I need to get this hotdog back to Dallas.”
“Yeah, there is,” he says, pulls me in, and kisses me. And it was a soft, sweet kiss. An I’m sorry kiss. And it makes me feel surprisingly happy. “Can we hang out tonight, after the game?”
And I think I’d like to, but I am also thinking about the possible blown to me kiss, and I’m not sure what to say. So I say, “I wish I could, but I have homework still to do and posters to make for dance.”
He looks unsure as to if I am telling him the truth. But I really should do those things tonight. Especially the homework. It’s one thing to run back home because I choose to, it’s an entirely other thing to get kicked out because I am failing. Mom and Tommy would not be too pleased about that. “Okay, uh, well, see you tomorrow then, I guess.” (This is exactly why I had to add the stalker. She totally would have run back home.)
“Sounds good.” And I walk back to the safety of my friends.
This is where we stand.
10:05pm
Katie, Maggie and I are laying on the floor of our room, sniffing markers trying to get high, it’s not really working, and making posters to put on the Varsity football player’s lockers in the morning, when my phone buzzes.
An unknown number: Scored 10
Me: Who is this??
An unknown number:Aiden
OH MY GOSH!!!! HE TEXTED ME!!!! HE GOT MY NUMBER SOMEHOW, AND HE TEXTED ME!!! But I try to play it cool, replying, and adding his number to my contact list.
Me: I was at the game, I saw. Good job.
Hottie God: Would you be interested in 10 more dances tomorrow night after the Varsity game?
And I can’t help it. I scream out loud. Katie grabs my phone, reads the texts and screams along with me. Then she says, “Wait. Who is the hottie god? Is that Aiden or Dawson?”
“Aiden.”
“Hmm, personally, I think Dawson is hotter, and Aiden is kinda immature if you ask me,” Maggie states.
“How is he immature?”
“This is the FIRST time he’s texted you since this weekend. And also, you should never say yes when a guy asks you out at the last minute. My sister says that’s how you know a guy is serious about you. He asks you out on Tuesday or Wednesday for the weekend because he wants to make sure you don’t make other plans.”
“So what should I tell him?”
“I’d teach him a lesson. Say, Oh shoot, I wished you would have asked me earlier, but I already have plans. You are a woman in demand. Lots of boys want to ask you out, and he needs to learn to plan ahead.”
“But in his defense, he just heard today at lunch that Dawes and I are through. Maybe that’s why he didn’t ask before.”
“But you and Dawson weren’t going out, you were just hanging out. He knows that. He still should have asked.”
“True.”
I don't want to do it, but I do. He can’t think I am going to come running every time he decides to blow me a kiss or text me. (I love how girls think. How they rationalize things. How we can obsess for an hour over a single text, trying to decipher it’s “true meaning.”)
Me: I really wish you would have asked me sooner. I already made plans.
Hottie God: With who?
“Shit, y’all!!! He just asked me who I have plans with. And I don’t have plans with ANYONE!! What am I going to say?”
“Well, you can say that we’re having a girls night,” Maggie offers.
“Except that I already told Tyrese I would hang out with him after the game. He asked me yesterday,” Katelyn beams.
“Well shit. Wait. I know.”
I text Dallas.
Me: Do you have plans for after the game tomorrow night?
Dallas: Yes, I’m going to be checking your panties.
Me: Good.
Dallas: Wait?! Really?
Me: Oh, I meant good, you’re free, not good about the panties. Can we hang?
Dallas: Well we can, but I’m hanging with the guys and maybe this girl from my math class. She’s pretty cute and has been flirting with me. But don’t worry, you’re still my favorite.
Me: Shit!!!!
“What am I gonna do? I just lied to the God of all Hotties. And I know even though he can’t see me, that he knows. I know he knows!!!! What am I gonna do?” (I know he knows!)
Vibrate. Two new texts.
Hottie God: I think you should change your plans.
Dawson: Come outside, now. Please.
“Look at this!! Look at this mess, what am I supposed to do with this?” I throw my phone down onto the floor in front of Maggie. (I love Maggie. She’s that friend you have who tells it to you straight. Who is so funny.)
She reads and says, “I think you should tell Aiden, no. That he should ask you sooner next time, and tell Dawson you will be right down.”
And I also think you should tell Dawson you’ll be right down, but I think you should tell Aiden yes,” Katie disagrees.
Maggie considers this, says, “No, wait. See what Dawson says. Maybe he will ask you to hang out.”
“Wait, it’s okay for me to hangout with Dawson when he asks on Thursday night, but not Aiden? That’s not really fair is it? (No, it’s not. Go dance with the god!)
“Well, didn’t Dawson ask you to spend the whole weekend with him?” Maggie argues.
“Yeah.”
“Sooooo tell Aiden no.”
But I don’t wanna tell Aiden no. (This. This right here. Her gut was telling her not to say no to Aiden. Ever.)
But they are probably right and I’m too freakishly confused to make an intelligent decision.
Me to Hottie God: I can’t. Sorry. Hey I gotta go. See you in class tomorrow :)
I end it with a smile face, trying to soften the blow.
Me to Dawson: Coming
So I go outside. Dawson is sitting on the brick wall, looking hotter than ever. He has on a red Cougars T-shirt and it almost looks like he bought it last year, and it’s grown with him. Like it’s stretched perfectly across his broad chest. The short sleeves show off his muscular arms, and it fits tight against the sculpted abs that I know are underneath.
“Hey,” I say, greeting him.
“You’re still mad at me, huh?”
“Not mad, but I definitely know where I stand.”
He kicks his feet, hops off the wall, grabs me around the waist. “This is where we stand.” And he kisses me.
“I have absolutely no idea what that means.” I laug
h because really we are kinda a pathetic pair.
“I want to take us slow, but I also want to be with you. Look, we’ve both been confused and honest with each other about how we feel, right?” (You can say what you want about their love, but they were so honest with each other. Even though in the final publication, she was lying about who she was, this openness about her feelings was something she hadn’t really encountered with a guy up until this point.)
“Yeah, so far.”
“Well, here’s how I’m feeling. I like you. I’m still getting over her. I have been kissing you in front of people, in front of her, and I’ve been fine with it, but seeing it in the pictures, well, it sorta caught me off guard. I was feeling good about it, but I wasn’t ready to see it. Look.”
He pulls a little box out of a sack that’s sitting on the wall. He opens it and shows me a bunch of loose photos. Of them. Him and Peyton, happy, kissing, going to dances, snuggling. (I keep mentally inserting the word Whitney when I read this. Another fun fact. It was not long after I wrote this that I had a dream where Damian was at a wedding and got up on stage and sang a song (Sorta Like Fate) to Peyton. It was acoustic, and the melody was so engrained into my head when I woke up, I immediately began writing down the lyrics. But I couldn’t recall them all. I got dressed, wouldn’t talk to anyone, and went outside for a long walk. The whole time I was walking, the song was playing in my head, and by the time I came back home, I had remembered all the lyrics. The other crazy part is that I didn’t know Peyton would end up with Damian. I had never planned to put them together. Which meant I then had to figure out how they would meet, fall in love, and be together at a wedding. This was further complicated by the fact that in the published version, Keatyn shouldn’t have let her two worlds collide. I also very seriously considered having Brooklyn show up in St. Croix. Either with Damian or on his own. Can you imagine? But after Aiden did the dirt, which was something else I dreamed about, I couldn’t ruin their time together, so I changed it to his phone call when he won his first tournament and thanked Keatyn. Which was enough damage. And as everyone said when they still didn’t know if Aiden as Moon Boy—We’ll always have Adore Me.)
“You two are cute together, I tell him honestly because they were.
“Well, this is who I’m used to seeing myself with. And I know we’ve only known each other for a week now, but you’ve become like my best friend. I’ve told you stuff I never could have told her, stuff I’ve never even told my friends. Her and I were never friends. I worshiped her, and then I dated her. ”
“Yeah. I can see that. That’s how you look at her. Like she’s better than you. I mean you ever look in a mirror? You’re gorgeous, hot, amazing. Plus you can be really nice when you want to be. You need to start seeing yourself the way other people do. The way I do.” (The way I do. So sweet.)
“I think I’m starting to. Look.”
He pulls a frame out of the sack, flips it over. In the frame is the picture of us, the one Annie wants to enter in the contest.
“Annie gave me this tonight after the game, and she told me the camera can’t lie. So when I got back to my room, I really looked at it. And then I started looking at the pictures of me and Peyton. This picture. The way we’re looking at each other, the uncertainty. I knew what you were thinking when you kissed me. I knew you were unsure, and I knew why. I knew you knew that I was unsure. When I look at the pictures of me and Peyton, I have no idea what she was thinking at the time. I still want to take it slow, I still can’t tell you how I feel, but I’m thinking this picture has the potential to be way better than what I’m used to. Please hang out with me tomorrow, please try and come to the party this weekend.”
I don’t answer, I just jump into his arms and kiss him.
Kinda Eenie Meanie
10:45pm
Stop kissing Dawson in time to make curfew. I’m back in my room, calling Mom.
I tell her about my plans for the weekend. Well, actually I was trying to gather advice for who I should go see, how much time I should spend with them.
I tell her about Aiden, Dawson, Brooklyn. Give her updates on where I stand with each of them. Ask her, based on what I told her, where she thinks I might stand with them.
Finally I tell her about the photo. She tells me to send it to her, so I do. I also cut and pasted Riley, Dallas, Dawson, and Aiden’s photos from their facebook and put them in the email. I even wrote cute little captions for each photo. (Although they do have a similar conversation about boys, some of this got cut, due to the fact that Abby’s Facebook could have gotten hacked.)
Gorgeous, aka Dawson, adorable, but hurt.
Sex God, aka, Riley, brother of Dawson, thinks he’s a stud. And probably is.
BFF, aka Dallas, starting a new business called the Psychic Panty Hotline. Reminds me of Brooklyn.
God of all Hotties, aka Aiden, enough said.
She puts me on speaker, as she looks at the first photo of me and Dawes going in for the kiss.
“Kiki, oh my gosh! Look at you! This picture is amazing, you look beautiful, and it doesn't even look like she edited it! Look at your skin! Oh, lets take a moment to rejoice in your smooth wrinkle free skin. Seriously, look at it, someday you will understand.” (Sadly, I understand how Abby feels.)
“Um, okay.”
“And what is this? You’re wearing look number twenty-two in your first week?” (OMG. LOL. This is so funny, and I forgot I wrote this. I love her advice. Also, notice down below the Golden Goose boots? Those were the brand of boots that Cush ended up giving Keatyn, which she then wore to kick the soccer ball at his head.)
“How do you even know that?”
“I’m good with fashion, and I have the contact sheet here with all your looks on it hanging on my bulletin board. Why did you do that? How are you deciding what to wear each day?”
“Uh, kinda eenie meanie.”
“Are you recording it?”
“Uh, no.
“Key! The whole reason you have a look book is so that you rotate the looks once every thirty days, past peoples short term memory. Go right now, and rearrange your pictures so what you have worn this week, is in the front of the book and then paperclip it and work your way straight through the book. Remember she worked hard to put them in a particular order, to maximize both the look and your laundry.” (LOL. I have a sneaking suspicion that Keatyn has never done a load of laundry.)
Mom has a part time assistant that does nothing but catalog and record what she wore when, how it looked photographed, if it was photographed, etc. Which really, I don’t know why they bother, she could never wear the same thing twice, like in public anyways, like when she would be photographed. Even if you are going to the grocery store one day and two weeks later you wear the same boots, they will show it all lined up, titled, Abby really loves her Golden Goose boots. But I’m pretty sure no one is going to be quite that critical here.
“Okay, I did it.”
“Oh, also Kym told me that she is putting together a few more outfits, working on some more cooler weather looks, and she will be sending you a few care packets and boots and things. So be looking of those. She showed me one with a pale pink shirt under the red cardigan. How do you feel about that kind of look?”
“Do I want to look like a valentine?”
“With your already confused love life, maybe not.”
“Okay, so back to my love life and this weekend.”
“Okay, so I’m looking at the pictures now. So this Dawson, he is gorgeous, and he looks very sweet and vulnerable. It’s a very sexy look.”
“I know.”
“And he’s the one that invited you to their house in the Hamptons for the weekend?
His parents going to be there?”
“Oh, I’m sure.” (Or not.)
“Did you ask?”
“Uh, no.”
“Kiki.”
“Fine. They aren’t going to be there, but he said they have a housekeeper, cook, and groundkeeper that ar
e on permanent staff and will be. So we will have some adult supervision. I mean, sorta.”
“Okay, lets see this hottie god. Oh. Wow. He’s got that magnetic charm, that I don’t even realize how good looking I am because I’m too busy playing soccer look.”
“Yeah, that’s him, but I’m pretty sure he knows he’s good looking because he is not ashamed to use it against me. So who should i choose? Aiden, Dawson or Brooklyn?”
“It’s like trying to chose between Brad Pitt, George Clooney, and Matthew McConaughey, it’s impossible. But you said Aiden is out of the picture?”
“No, um, he’s like, uh....”
“On the back burner?” (I’m realizing now that pretty much this entire scene got cut. She still talks to her mom here, but not all of this.)
“Yes! He hasn’t been very nice, so I’m leaving him back there to simmer.”
“Hmmm. And Brooklyn wants you to see him surf. So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know! That’s why I called you! I think I want to go both places, I need transportation, and mostly I just need you to tell me what to do, who I should like.”
“I can’t do that sweetie, you have to follow your heart.”
“My heart is confused.”
“Then tackle one at a time. Go see Brooklyn, first. See if things feel the same, better, or if they just feel kinda over.”
“Then go see Gorgeous, have fun, let loose a little. Then when you go back to school on Tuesday, you will know more. And you have your credit card for a reason, or even better, call Tommy’s assistant, Marcus, and tell him to book all your travel arrangements. He can get you a car, helicopter, whatever you need.”
