Keatyn Unscripted (The Keatyn Chronicles Book 8)

by Jillian Dodd

  “Please?”

  “No. He’s not nice to me.”

  “Look, I have an idea. How bout I get you on the social committee? It’s a big honor, and there are no freshman on the committee, so what do you say?”

  I think about that for a minute. Dawson thought about getting on it, and it is a big deal. Way bigger than student council. Hmmmm.

  “I say you might just have a a deal.”

  I sit in my seat, turn around and try not to look at Aiden’s mouth. “So I heard you REALLY suck at french.”

  He frowns a little, and it looks so odd on his mouth.

  Shit.

  I was NOT supposed to be looking at his mouth. What am I doing? (I love her obsession with his mouth, the source of his power.)

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Well, I got asked really nice, and possibly bribed, by the teacher into helping you, so I guess I am.”

  “Really! Keatyn, that’s awesome.” And he grins that smile that blinds me, causes me to forget where I am and makes me want to grab his hand and run off to the land of milk and honey, or you know, somewhere magical.

  “When can we start? Can we do it like after football practice, or would you rather wait until after dinner?”

  I was thinking about saying, lets do it after practice, get it over with, but I’ll be sweaty from soccer and dance, and I can’t tutor a god and be sweaty. But I also don’t want to miss going to like games and stuff with Dawson, so hmmm. “Yeah, lets do it right after football most nights, cause we want to still be able to go watch the other games and stuff at night. But maybe we will have to be a bit flexible on the times?”

  He looks dreamily at me, “I will be there, whenever you need me.” (Sigh.)

  “What?! No. You need me.”

  He frowns again, puts his hand over his eyes. “I have no idea why I said that. I meant I’ll be there.”

  “Okay, so you have a game tonight, and we have a lot due tomorrow. Do you have it done yet?”

  “No. I haven’t really started.”

  “Well I have dance til five. What time do you have to be like in the locker room?”

  “Not til six. And dance is over at 4:30. How about I order some pizza, you can come to my room, and we’ll study and eat? Be there at five.”

  “That sounds like a date. And if I come straight from dance, I’ll be all gross.”

  “It’s tutoring with food, and I doubt you are ever gross.”

  And I can’t help it. I know I like Dawson, but still the way he said it, made me melt a little.

  Okay. Fine.

  A lot.

  Right now, I’m like the lipstick you left in your car in hundred degree weather. (Can you blame her?)

  Then he adds, “Plus if you’re gross, I won’t want to kiss you, so maybe that’s for the best anyways.”

  OMG!!!!!

  He wants to kiss me!!!!!

  Focus, Keatyn. Focus, girl. You can do it. Speak. Say something coherent.

  “Yeah, that hasn’t gone so well for us in the past.”

  Well shit! That was coherent, but a SLAM!! I didn’t really want to slam him. I swear, I either am in love with this boy, or I hate him. (Some of my favorite parts of Keatyn and Aiden arguing happen during French. I love their little notes, the dirty French words, the way he leans up and speaks into her ear.)

  “I’d disagree with that. I thought our kisses were amazing. It’s the other stuff that maybe hasn’t gone so well.”

  I decide to shut up. Nod my head in agreement and try and look busy with my french notebook.

  After class, I grab ahold of Annie. Like literally grabbed her, so she couldn’t get away from me, clung to her for dear life, practically. But tried to be very cool when I said, “So you going to the game with us tonight?”

  She gets ready to reply, but Aiden breezes past us and says, “See ya tonight, Boots.”

  Both me and Annie freeze. “Why are you seeing him tonight?”

  “I decided to tutor him.”

  “Oooohhhhh. Lucky girl. What’s Dawson gonna think of that?”

  “It’s like a job. He won’t care.” (It’s like a job—sure it is.)

  I don’t think.

  I want my kisses to haunt his dreams.

  4:12 pm

  I’m pretty good at dance, for some strange reason. It’s not that I’m some amazing dancer, but I have a really good memory, and I catch on quick. So when I learn a routine, I learn it quick and don’t mess up much or forget to do it in the right order.

  But today, well, I’m just plain distracted.

  And who could blame me?

  I’m about to throw myself into the lion’s den!

  So my mind has one thing on it. That in exactly thirty-two and a half minutes, I am going to be alone in a room with Aiden.

  Teaching him the language of love.

  And mostly likely, thinking I would like to teach him with my lips. (Yet she keeps telling herself she loves Dawson. Don’t you just want to shake the girl, slap a little sense into her? I mean, I get it. I know that Aiden confuses her, but still.)

  So yes, I get yelled at by Peyton. Little Miss Perfect Captain and Queen of Everything. If I didn’t find her so nice, I would seriously hate her. I do sort of hate her, for one reason. Her and Aiden share the same mouth. Like when she smiles, I can almost see his face. So when she is nice and smiles at me, I pretty much comply to what she tells me.

  I’m dancing, dancing, drinking water, breathing occasionally, dancing, thinking now there are nineteen and three quarters minutes left of practice.

  And I need practice to start being over a little early, so I will have a few minutes to wash off the sweat and make myself look good. I’m also trying to decide what I should wear to his room. Do I go the I just got done with dance, and I look so hot wearing my teeny shorts and little red and yellow tie dyed shirt, but at the same time I didn’t put forth any effort to get all dolled up for you? Do I put my uniform back on, or do I wear what I am going to wear to the game after?

  And then I think about Dawson, cute adorable Dawson, who told me he might love me.

  Maybe I should look bad on purpose. So Aiden won’t want to kiss me.

  But NO, I don’t want him to not want to kiss me.

  I want my kisses to haunt his dreams.

  I want him to beg for me.

  Seriously, the next time he tries to kiss me, I’m going to turn the other way.

  I want him down on his knees begging. Please, Boots, please!

  Oh, shit. I just kicked at totally the wrong time.

  Seven minutes.......

  Step up my game. Do the rest of the routine to perfection. Turn, kick, shimmy, turn right, spin, kick, kick, spirit hands.

  Lets get the heck out of here.

  But no.

  We have to stop and discuss tomorrow night’s festivities. We are having a dance sleep over. Everyone is all excited and giddy about this. This is where big and little sisters are announced. As expected, they will team one older girl with one of us younger ones, for reasons I am not even sure yet. I guess to help us assimilate to high school or something.

  I finally decide to sneak my way out of the dance room and into the changing room. I give myself a quick sink shower, touch up my makeup, throw on deodorant, some perfume and figure what the hell, let’s give him the legs, leave on my booty shorts, throw on a clean T-shirt, grab my bag and get over there.

  Okay, fine. I did brush my teeth too. Not because I am thinking I might kiss him. That thought never crossed my mind.

  I’m seriously weighted down with my school backpack, my dance duffle, and another bag with crap to wear tonight. Which is really dumb, since my dorm is like close. As I come out of the field house, there’s Dawson stalking me. He’s apparently done with his football workout. Of course, all he is carrying is a little teeny bag.

  He’s like, “Where are you going in such a hurry? I thought we could hang before the game.”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Miss Pr
aline asked me to tutor someone that’s not doing well in french class. Well, I didn’t want to, but she bribed me kinda. Actually it’s pretty exciting. Don’t tell anyone, but she’s going to get me on the social committee.”

  He hugs me. My duffle drops to the ground. “That’s awesome, Keatie. Maybe I should see if I can get on it too. We could plan some fun stuff for this place!”

  “That would be fun. Okay, so give me a kiss, and then I gotta go. I’ll just meet you up in the stands.”

  “You wearing them shorts?”

  “Should I?”

  “Not to the game, no. All the guys would stare, and I’d end up in a fight.” He pulls me in tight to him, “But tonight, after the game, in my room, definitely.”

  “You’re a bad boy.”

  “I hope I’m good.” he teases.

  “Okay, see you later.”

  And I bound off. He is following me, of course, because both boys live in the same dorm.

  He runs up behind me, grabs my bags and says, “Geeze, why do you need so much stuff?”

  “Well I have my school stuff, my dance stuff, my stuff to wear to the game. I didn’t know what I was gonna wear to tutor him, so I just brought it all.”

  I walk up to the boys dorm and start to open the door.

  “Him?”

  “Yes, him. Don’t go getting all stupid jealous. I wanna go and get this over with so I can snuggle up with you in the stands and watch the game.”

  “Mhmm, okay. Maybe we should go to the game late? Just come to my room when you’re done.”

  “I was just in your room last night.”

  “Yeah, I know. It was amazing. But I’m not expecting that. I mean, unless you force me. Which would be pretty hot.”

  “We’ll save that for another day. I was thinking about going into New York to do some shopping either this weekend or next. Would you want to come with me?”

  “I’m not a big shopper, and I hate the stupid train, but we could stay at our apartment, like I can call my mom or whatever.”

  “Or we could stay alone at my step dad’s loft?”

  “This weekend. Sign me up.”

  “Yeah, I thought so. I really do have to go now.” I drop him off at his door.

  You’ve been creeping on me.

  4:45 pm

  Race upstairs to Aiden’s room. I’m like late. Knock on his door, smell pizza.

  He opens the door. “You’re late, Boots.” Blinding smile. (Oh, can we take a moment to appreciate the god’s mouth? Or how many different ways I came up with to describe his god-like smile.)

  “Kept the lights up, I see.”

  “Yeah, well everyone likes to party in here, I’m at the end of the hall on the top floor opposite side of our dorm advisor, so you know what they say, location, location, location.”

  “So lets get started.”

  “Yeah, lets.” He grabs a piece of gooey pizza, holds it up to my mouth and tries to feed me. I was going to resist because, you know, but he gave me that grin, and I just opened my mouth.

  “Aren’t you going to eat too?”

  “Naw. I can’t eat stuff like that before a game, or I’d puke. I got it for you.”

  “And how did you know pepperoni and black olives is my favorite?”

  And so unhealthy.

  “It’s on your Facebook profile.”

  “Damn, you’ve been creeping on me.” (A little foreshadowing here. Even though this version doesn’t have Vincent, I kept this scene because his interest in knowing everything he can about her is what drives him to figure out who she is. And what takes us to the scene in Get Me, when he says, Baby, I already knew. And I had been DYING for you guys to know that piece of the puzzle.)

  “Naw, okay, maybe just a little. You have some really good pictures. I especially like the ones of you in that dress you wore to the dance. When we danced. I love that dress.”

  “You didn’t comment or like any of the pictures.”

  “Yeah, I know. You were mad at me.”

  “I’m still mad at you, but here we are.”

  He grins, “I’m so glad I suck at french.”

  “Okay, so lets go over these workbook pages, we don’t have much time.”

  So we do, well, we got two of the four pages done. And then it was time for him to go.

  “I better get going, Coach gets pissed if we’re late.”

  “Good luck,” I say.

  He gets in closer to me. “So what’s the deal with you and Dawson?”

  He’s uh, a little too close for comfort, and I’m starting to sweat. I take a step back, say, “I guess we’re like dating, sorta.”

  “So you’re single, sorta?”

  “Uh, I’m not sure, exactly. We haven’t really discussed it. I mean he asked me about going out, but I told him I thought it was too soon, plus I’m not convinced he’s over your sister. But he did tell me he loves me, well, no, he told me he thinks he loves me, so who knows.”

  “Sounds like it’s getting serious, if he’s confessing his love for you.”

  “We’re having fun, so I’m not going to make it more than it is at this point. I want to take things slow.”

  “Not what I heard.” (Oh, Aiden. When will you learn? He’s so jealous he can’t stand it.)

  “So Dawes has told you that?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Alors vous ne connaissez pas la merde.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means then you don’t know shit. Tomorrow, right after school, and we’re meeting in the library.”

  OHHH, GOOOO TEAM!!!!

  7:30pm

  Watching the JV game with everyone, sitting next to Dawson. Well, snuggling next to Dawson. He is adorable, feeding me skittles and then kissing me. Dallas texts me, even though he is sitting right behind me.

  Dallas: You+me=cave tonight. And I’m not taking no for an answer.

  Me: Okay, but I don’t think we should kiss.

  Dallas: Why not? You and Dawes aren’t going out, right? Can’t you do what you want?

  Me: Well that’s true, but I don’t really want.

  Dallas: :( But that’s cool. We haven’t talked in a while and maybe I have a dating dilemma of my own.

  Me: Really?!

  Dallas: Ha. No.

  After half time, I once again find myself in Dawson’t big athletic hoodie. It practically goes to my knees, and I’m a tall girl! He’s sitting behind me in the bleachers, me leaning back between legs when his warm hand slides under the sweatshirt and under the side of my shirt. He’s casually stroking my sides, my stomach and it’s nice, I snuggle back closer to him. But then his hand finds its way down inside my shorts and pretty soon he’s rubbing me, um, sorta like down there. Teasing me. He so wants me to come back to his room, well, I was going to say tonight, but I think it’s feeling more like now. And I want to stop him, I know I should stop him, but what can I say, I like it. I close my eyes, miss a few plays. We don’t stand up and cheer when Aiden scores. But I clapped and Dawson took that moment to uh, do a little scoring of his own. And then, I found myself cheering too, but for different reasons. OHHH, GOOOOO TEAM! (This is such a fun, naughty scene. But he is a Johnson brother. You had to figure sexiness was there.)

  “You’re sooo naughty,” I whispered to him after.

  “You soooo liked it,” he teases. “Can we please go back to my room? Like now.”

  “You have to wait til this weekend.”

  “But I don’t wanna wait,” he whines. “We’ll just kiss, I swear.” Then he starts kissing my neck, which is usually a sure fire way to get what he wants.

  “This weekend. We won’t just kiss, I swear.”

  Later when the game is over, Dallas hands me a Red Bull and says, “Drink up. Dress warm,” and grins at me.

  Dawson says, “What’s that for? You going to meet him at the cave tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh.”

  “What? You can come if you want. We just need to catch
up.”

  “You once told me you and Dallas smoke and make out there.”

  “Yeah, would that bother you?”

  “Hell yeah, it would bother me.”

  “Which part?”

  “The kissing!”

  “Oh, well you don’t have to worry. Look.” I let him read my texts from earlier, telling Dallas we weren't going to kiss.

  “I’m sorry. I should trust you.”

  “Well even though we’re both still officially single. I really don’t have any desire to kiss anyone else, and I haven’t lied to you yet.”

  He grabs my face in his hands, pulls me into a kiss then murmurs, “I will never lie to you. I love you, Keatie.”

  “Really? Like love love?”

  “Yeah, really. I love you.”

  We kiss for a while, and I go inside feeling pretty amazing.

  (He tells her he loves her way early in this version. Too early, in my opinion. But so much emotion and honesty between them. And really, the reason she and Aiden aren’t together. They fight. She doesn’t know where she stands with Brooklyn. But with Dawson, it is what it is, and they are both struggling with love. It’s sweet.)

  “Oh, well, you don’t have to worry. Look.” I let him read my texts from earlier, telling Dallas we weren't going to kiss.

  “I’m sorry. I should trust you.”

  “We’re not in a relationship, Dawson. So, really, technically, I could kiss anyone I want to. So can you.”

  “I don’t want to kiss anyone else, but I do have something I should probably show you,” he says, as he hands me back my phone.

  “What?”

  He messes with his phone and hands it to me. “Whitney texted me today. Read it.”

  Whitney: Just because we aren’t going out, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.

  Dawson: Okay?

  Whitney: I know you’re having fun with the new girl, but she’s not good enough for you. Why don’t I set you up with Rachel? She’s always crushed on you and at least she comes from a decent family.