Keatyn Unscripted (The Keatyn Chronicles Book 8)

by Jillian Dodd

Or could she be in danger here?

  “Arrington!” Coach yells out, calling for my attention. “You think you can make a fifty-yarder?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I reply confidently. “I do it in practice all the time.”

  “Then go do it!”

  I run out onto the field and line up for the field goal—smiling as I think about getting a few more Points for Dances—and drill the ball through the goal posts.

  For her.

  Only for her.

  As the team makes our big entrance back onto the field after halftime, I hang to the back of the pack. The cheerleaders and dance team always line up for our return, and I need to talk to her.

  She’s shaking her pompoms but seemingly lost in thought when I stop directly in front of her and slide my hands down her arms. “Have you heard anything?”

  She looks shocked that I stopped in the middle of the field to talk to her. It makes me wonder what kind of guys she’s dated in the past. Is she not used to someone caring about her?

  She gazes into my eyes and shakes her head. Her eyes are like windows into her soul. That bluish purple color makes me forget where I am.

  I lean my helmet against her forehead, needing to be closer to her. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

  Then I take off running to catch up with the rest of the team before Coach yells at me.

  Coach doesn’t seem to have noticed my stopping, but Dawson sure did.

  He grabs me by the face mask, pissed. “I told you to stay the hell away from her!”

  “I can talk to whoever I want,” I reply, shoving him away, standing up straighter, and preparing myself for a fight.

  Dawson lunges toward me, but someone steps in between us.

  “I told you, deal with this shit later,” Jake yells at Dawson. “We’ve got a game to win. Focus on that.”

  “I don’t give a shit,” Dawson yells, but Jake drags him over to the bench.

  “What’s going on with you and Keatyn, anyway?” Logan asks, sliding up next to me. “You ditched all your afternoon classes and were with her? I’m all for you getting some tail, bro, but you can get kicked out for that shit. Not to mention, Dawson wants to pummel you. I’d hate to see my best friend shipped back to California over some freaking girl.”

  “It’s not like that,” I mutter as I run out onto the field for the start of the third quarter, praying that what I told Keatyn will come true. That it will all be okay.

  After the game, I take a quick shower, hoping to be able to talk to Keatyn before she leaves for the weekend. She’s going with my sister, Whitney, Dawson, and the rest of the popular crew to some spa up north.

  What I’d really like to do is talk her out of going, but that probably won’t happen. I know she’s been looking forward to it.

  Would it be bad of me to use her concern for her friend as a reason to stay?

  Here.

  With me.

  As I’m leaving the field house, I notice her slip behind the bushes not far from the door. I’m going to say something witty, but then I see Dawson get into a limo with Whitney and Rachel and leave.

  Why did they leave without her?

  Did she decide not to go? Is that why she’s hiding? She didn’t want them to see her?

  Wait, did she and Dawson break up?

  I want to jump for joy and then kiss her, but her body language changes. Her shoulders slump forward in defeat, and I realize she’s not happy about whatever just transpired.

  “Why are we hiding in the bushes?” I whisper. “And why did they just leave without you?”

  As she turns around, her chest brushes across mine—the unmistakable jolt of energy I know we both feel every time we touch causing her to hop backwards and almost fall into the bushes. I reach out and grab her, holding her upright.

  Tears fill her gorgeous eyes.

  “Whitney told me right before the game was over that even though I was sitting there when she asked, I wasn’t invited. Then she said something nasty about me being Dawson’s flavor of the week and how he’s going to hook up with Rachel. I was going to cancel on him anyway. I have a car coming to pick me up in the morning, and then I’m going to New York. I guess Dawson is still mad at me about today. Or maybe Whitney is right, and I am just the flavor of the week.”

  I listen to her every word, thrilled that she’s standing here in my arms, but mad that my sister and her friends could be so mean.

  “You know, you’re even beautiful when you cry,” I say, brushing a few tears from her cheek.

  “If this is the new and improved Aiden, I like him better already. I just don’t get why Dawson would leave. He bought me a key-to-his-heart necklace a while ago. He says he really likes me. But then he does this? Just leaves? Is that what they do, Aiden? Is this just a game to them?”

  “It all seems kind of odd, especially after what Dawson said to me at halftime.”

  “He got mad you stopped to check on me, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he was really pissed.”

  “It was nice of you. I’m pretty much exhausted. I can’t wait to go to sleep.”

  I move us out of the bushes and walk her to her dorm. I want to invite her to mine. I don’t want her to be alone.

  But her body language is telling me otherwise. If she’s like my sister, she probably wants to go cry in private. The girl has had a rough day—first her friend and now this.

  But I want her to know I’m here for her. Always.

  I give her a kiss on the cheek. “If you hear anything about your friend, let me know, okay?”

  “Okay. Night, Aiden.”

  “Night, Boots,” I say with a smirk, then pat her on the back—a redo of the end of our twenty-nine dances night.

  “Very funny,” she says as she walks into her dorm.

  But at least I made her smile.

  I’d kick his ass.

  11:30pm

  I go to my dorm and flip on the twinkle lights I put up for her—feeling hopeful. She and Dawson will be over after this, and I want to ask her to Homecoming—this weekend while Dawson is gone. I just need to figure out the perfect way.

  I close my eyes and run through all the ways I’ve seen girls get asked over the years, but none of them are right. My train of thought switches to how vulnerable she looked today in the chapel.

  How she practically curled up into my lap.

  How she turns me on.

  My phone rings, startling me. When I see it’s her, I feel like I just got caught. That she knows I’m thinking about her.

  “Is your friend okay?” I ask.

  “Yes. I just got good news.”

  “I’m glad. I've been praying for that all day.”

  “Me too. Thanks for today, Aiden. For talking—well, for listening to me and for getting us out of trouble for skipping.”

  A Facebook notification dings in my ear. I move my phone in front of my face to see it. Whitney has posted a photo of Dawson kissing Rachel’s cheek in the limo.

  “Wow. That hurts,” she says.

  “What hurts?” I ask, hoping she didn’t just see it.

  “Whitney just posted a photo of Dawson kissing Rachel.”

  “Only on the cheek. I just saw.”

  She starts to cry again then chokes out, “I have to go, Aiden.”

  “Wait,” I say, but it’s too late. She’s already hung up on me.

  Shit.

  My instant reaction is to want to fix everything for her, and since I can’t change what’s going on with her friend, I’m only left with one choice. Because no matter how much I want her and Dawson to be over, I can’t stand to see her hurt. And I’m pretty sure I’m the only one she told about what happened.

  I get up and go bang on Riley’s door.

  “What’s up?” he asks. “We going to sneak in Bryce’s room while he’s gone, hook up with random hot girls, and drink all his stash?”

  “Have you talked to your brother?” I ask.

  “I saw he was being a dick to you at
the game tonight. I’m sorry.”

  “I can handle it. That’s not why I asked though. He left with everyone for the weekend, without Keatyn.”

  “Why? Are they in a fight because of today? Where is she?”

  “I’m pretty sure she’s in her room crying.”

  “So what did he say to her?”

  “That’s just it, he didn’t say anything. But before the game was over, Whitney told Keatyn that even though she was sitting at the lunch table when she asked, Keatyn wasn’t invited. She told her she is Dawson’s flavor of the week. That he has been texting Rachel and that they are going to hook up. She was standing in the bushes watching them leave. And she was crying, Riley. It kills me when she cries.”

  “What is it about her? Even though she’s dating my brother, I’d kick his ass if he hurt her.”

  “You guys are good friends.”

  “Yeah, but it’s more than that. She’s strong and fierce, but it’s like there’s something behind it, something that brings out the protector in me.”

  “Like when you slammed me against the locker for talking shit about her?”

  “Yeah, exactly like that.”

  “Maybe you can do that again,” I suggest. “Find out if Dawson is aware of what Whitney did.”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?” Riley asks. “I know you like her. You could spend all weekend alone with her. She’s got to be pissed at my brother. You could sneak in, steal her away.”

  I shake my head. “I couldn’t live with myself. She’s hurt, Riley, and we need to fix it. Even if that means she ends up with Dawson.”

  Riley appraises me. I’m not sure, but I think what I just said earned me some respect with him.

  “And I’m sick of Whitney pulling this kind of crap,” he says. “I’m calling Dawson, now.”

  “Wait. Why don’t you call Jake instead? Find out the truth. Was it Dawson’s idea to leave her because he wants to hook up with Rachel, or did Whitney manipulate things to keep Dawson and Keatyn apart?”

  While he grabs his cell and makes the call, I sit on his bed, still wondering what I’m doing.

  Any other girl, and I’d be taking advantage of the situation, consoling her—with my dick.

  But I don’t want Keatyn by default.

  Because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her.

  I must be.

  I’m behaving like an idiot.

  On the other hand, it’s not like Dawson will come all the way back here on his own.

  Maybe I can do the right thing and still reap the rewards.

  Riley hangs up and says to me, “Dawson and Jake are pissed! I’m going to pick them up. You want to come?”

  Or not.

  Shit.

  “Uh, naw. You go ahead.”

  I go back to my room, lie in my bed, kick myself for telling, and fall asleep wondering why everything I do concerning her never seems to work out right.

  Saturday, September 24th

  Just in time.

  8:20am

  I’m going to workout when I run into Jake.

  “You’re back, huh?”

  “Yeah, just in time, too,” he says.

  “For what?”

  “For Dawson and Keatyn to make up.”

  I swallow hard. “They made up?”

  “Yeah, she was getting in the cab ready to leave right when we pulled up. She was pissed at first, but he totally sweet talked her into letting him go with her.”

  Now I feel sick. “Uh, that’s great for them,” I say, forcing a smile.

  When I get down to the gym, I head straight for the punching bag and totally pretend the bag is Dawson’s face.

  But once I get some of my frustrations out, I realize that’s it is all my fault, and I should probably be punching myself.

  I work out and then go get pizza with Logan and some of the guys. We hang out at the sports bar for awhile, watching college football on their multiple screens.

  While we’re there, Logan leans over and says, “What’s up your butt today?”

  “I’m an idiot.”

  “Dallas told me it was because of you that Dawson found out what Whitney did. If you like Keatyn, why the hell did you do that?”

  “Because I’m an idiot,” I repeat.

  “Well, they’re together now. Not much you can do about it.” He slaps me on the back. “Dude, we’re getting you laid tonight. It’s been all semester. No wonder you’re being an idiot. You can’t think when your balls are blue.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it. If I recall, you went for months without doing it before and after Maggie.”

  “Shut up. That’s different. I loved her.” He studies me then says, “Shit. Do you love her?”

  I rub my hands down my face in frustration. “Pretty sure.”

  “You thought you loved Chelsea last year. Look how that turned out. I thought I loved Maggie. That went to shit. We’re too young to worry about love. We need to hook up, get off, and move on to the next one. We can worry about all that love shit once we’re done with college. Until then, we’re going to have some fun.”

  I try to focus on the games, but I can’t stop thinking about what Keatyn’s doing—hopefully it’s not Dawson.

  I remind myself that she intended to shop. Maybe that’s all they will do. Shop. And be so tired afterwards they just go to sleep.

  But I doubt it.

  Everyone says they’ve already done it. I’m pretty sure they did it that weekend in the Hamptons when she was mad at her ex.

  I screwed up by behaving like a jealous idiot when she told me about her ex. Then Logan told me that girls weren’t worth the hassle. And after what happened last year at Prom, I had to agree with him.

  But I was wrong. She’s worth the hassle.

  When I get back to my dorm, her being with Dawson isn’t the only thing on my mind. It’s the underlying feeling I have about our conversation in the chapel.

  That what she was saying was more about her than her friend.

  I can’t talk to my friends about it. So I call my parents, who put me on speaker like they always do.

  After our initial greeting, chatting about the weather, their travels, and football, talk turns to my classes.

  “How are your grades so far?” Mom asks.

  “Actually, pretty good. I got a C plus on my last French test.”

  “Really?” Dad asks. “That’s great. We heard from your sister that you have a crush on your tutor. That the reason for the improvement?”

  “Probably,” I say. “Actually, that’s part of why I called. I need your advice.”

  “What about?” Mom asks.

  “There’s something going on in her personal life. She told me a little bit about it, but I know there’s stuff she’s not telling me. I want her to confide in me. Trust me. How can I make her?”

  “You can’t make her trust you, son,” Dad says. “You have to earn her trust if you want her to confide in you.”

  “What did Peyton tell you about her?”

  “Not much. Just that you like her, but she likes someone else,” Dad says.

  “That’s not all,” Mom contradicts. “I heard she’s on the dance team as well as Varsity soccer. Peyton said she’s really pretty, really nice, and a breath of fresh air at the school. It sounds like there has been some tension between her and Whitney this semester.”

  “That’s because Whitney can be mean.” I tell them about how Keatyn is seeing Dawson, how Whitney hates it, and what she did last night.

  “But I thought Whitney broke up with Dawson last year?” Mom asks.

  “She did. But since he’s gotten more serious with Keatyn, it’s making her mad. I don’t know that she really likes Dawson, it’s the attention they get as a couple that I think she’s jealous of.”

  “High school drama,” Dad laughs.

  “It’s more than that,” I say with a sigh. “I really like her. She’s just . . . different. Special. Yeah, she’s gorgeous, but it’s
more. It’s like—this sounds crazy—she’s supposed to be with me.” I spill my guts and tell them everything that’s happened between us—starting from when she kicked the soccer ball at my face to last night. I take a big breath then say, “And I screwed up again last night. She was upset. I didn’t want her to be hurt, so I told Riley what happened and then he called Jake who told Dawson and then they came back. I was hoping to get some time alone with her this weekend and ask her to Homecoming. Instead, she took Dawson to New York City with her.”

  “You’ve never had a problem getting girls to like you,” Mom says.

  “Usually too many do,” Dad chuckles.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Mom asks. “You’re practically perfect. And so adorable.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re my mom. You have to say that. And there’s nothing’s wrong with her. She’s perfect.”

  “Are her and Dawson going steady?”

  “No one goes steady anymore, Mom. They’re in a relationship. They go out.”

  “Same thing. Are they?”

  “No.”

  “Then if you want to take her to the dance, you should ask her,” Mom suggests. “The worst thing that can happen is she could say no. You just have to be the guy who asks first.”

  “You think?”

  “Well, if he hasn’t asked her, there’s no reason why you can’t. Do it when she gets back.”

  I consider it. I will be devastated if she says no.

  But I also know she’s worth the risk. “You’re right. I’ll do it. I’ll ask her on Monday after school when we meet up to study.”

  “Thataboy,” Dad says.

  “Good luck,” Mom says. “Love you.”

  “Bye. Love you guys, too.”

  Before the call ends, I hear Dad chuckle and say to Mom, “Sounds like he’s got it bad.”

  I hang up thinking Dad’s right.

  I do.

  A bottle of booze.

  11:45pm

  Logan and I are at the Cave, sitting on a log around the fire. He’s in a shitty mood because Maggie is flirting with someone. I’m pretty sure she does it just to make him jealous, but I can’t say that. He’d get pissed at me, too.