by Jillian Dodd
And then there’s the stupid moon.
It’s like it’s making fun of me.
I throw it onto the floor in a huff.
Then I rip the stars all down and start over. This time going about the process in a more meticulous fashion, measuring it all out on paper before I place the stars to form each letter.
Hours later, my stomach growling and my arms aching from being up above my head for so long, I decide it’s finished.
It’s already dark, but I close my blinds anyway, turn off the lights, then collapse onto my bed.
It takes a few minutes for the stars to glow, but when they do, I can’t help but smile.
She’s going to love it.
I hope.
And after she says yes, I’m going to tell her that I know who she really is.
I fall asleep thinking how amazing it’s going to be.
As I’m leaving the field house, I notice Keatyn 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.
Are they going to leave without her or did she decide not to go?
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. “Aren’t you going with them?”
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, that 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 realize I need to do what’s best for her, not me. “I think you should still go. Show Whitney that she doesn’t affect you. You have to stand up to bullies.”
“I’m not sure I’m strong enough for that. Not with everything that happened today.”
I give her a reassuring hug and whisper in her ear. “Everything will be okay, I promise.”
She smiles through her tears. “You’re right, Aiden. Thank you.”
I take her hand and lead her to the limo.
The door opens. Whitney gets out, and Keatyn gets in.
I turn around and make my way back to the field house, wondering why I did that.
Whitney joins me. “I didn’t think you’d be able to talk her into coming,” she says with an evil laugh. “Which is ironic, because now she’s going to get what she’s got coming.”
“What are you talking about?”
Whitney pulls out a gun and shoots me.
Bang. Bang.
I can feel each bullet slicing through my flesh. Burning.
Pain.
Whitney pulls off a mask, revealing that it’s not really her but rather a man with dark hair and menacing eyes.
The man says, “Thank you for helping me set this all up.”
This man must be the stalker.
And I led her straight to him.
I have to save her.
When I move to take a step forward, I collapse onto the ground.
I look up, seeing the man, shoving Keatyn back into the limo, a gun pointed at her head.
I know that I’m dying.
That the stalker has Keatyn because of me.
And there’s nothing I can do to protect her.
Everything isn’t going to be alright.
I wake up, white light blinding me. Thank goodness, it was just a dream.
But then I touch my chest, feel the bullet holes, and see my blood pumping out from my chest and pooling on the pristine floor underneath me.
Is this heaven? Am I dead?
My father’s face appears before me. “I told you that you can’t demand someone’s trust. You have to earn it. And, now, look what you’ve done.”
The blood on the floor turns into red hot flames, burning me alive.
As the fire sears my skin, I realize too late that I forced her trust rather than earned it. I screwed up again.
I want to fix it, but it’s too late.
“Keatyn!” I cry out, the flames engulfing me as I look up and notice the glow-in-the dark stars above my head spelling out Homecoming?
I wake with a start, in a pool of sweat, her name still on my lips, light pouring in from the curtains I forgot to close last night.
I touch my chest, finding it intact, pain still fleeting across it.
It felt so real. Was it a premonition?
I grab my laptop and search. This one more important. I search a combination of Abby Johnston and stalker, then Keatyn Douglas and stalker, then Abby Johnston’s daughter and stalker.
When nothing comes up, I do the same searches replacing stalker with kidnapping.
Nothing.
I lie back down and look up at the stars, barely distinguishable in the daylight, and think about her. My life was a mess when I made a wish on the moon. I’m tired of girls who only need a smile from me, a few shots, or a good game. I know the moon brought her to me. She is the kind of epic love I want.
I think about my parents. How when my mom got cancer, everything in my father’s life stopped. How he sold the business he worked so hard to create. How he changed their lives completely. At the time, I thought he went a little overboard with it all. But I get it now.
He wanted the world for her, and he was going to give it to her, no matter how long they had left together.
I think about Brooklyn, the stalker, Dawson, my family.
And her.
When she kicked the soccer ball at my head, I knew.
As naturally as I knew the sound of my own heartbeat.
Knew we belonged together forever.
Now, I just need to prove it to her.
Even if I have to go a little overboard.
Monday, September 26th
Clapping and screaming.
Lunch
I’m waiting outside the student center when I spot Keatyn for the first time today. She’s talking with Jake and Bryce, and I’m trying to decide if I should interrupt them. But then I overhear them telling her they have to go do something for football, but to meet them at the lunch table.
She argues with them but eventually agrees.
She has on a pair of shoes I haven’t seen before. Red suede platforms that have leopard print on the heel. She looks adorable and confident as she struts toward me.
But then she stops again, looking down at her phone.
She appears to type in a few replies, then the smile slides off her face, and she turns white, like she might faint. I wonder if it’s more bad news from home. Something about the stalker.
She closes her eyes tightly to steady herself, then furiously texts. I stay where I am and wait for her.
After a few minutes, she puts her phone in her bag and walks toward me, but she seems caught up in thought. When I realize she hasn’t even noticed me, I step directly in front of her.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Huh?” she says, distractedly. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. My friend is safe. It’s all good.” But I know she’s lying. She’s upset about something else. She reaches out and touches my arm. “Hey, I heard
you were the one who told Riley about what Whitney did. That was really nice.”
“Well, I promised to be nice to you. Will you meet me in my room tonight for tutoring?”
“I appreciate it, Aiden. And, uh, sure.”
We walk through the lunch line together but sit at different tables, her taking a spot next to my sister, who told me earlier today that Dawson didn’t ask Keatyn to Homecoming this weekend.
I don’t even feel jealous that she’s going to sit with Dawson at lunch. In a few short hours, I’ll be asking her to Homecoming.
I set my lunch tray down next to Parker and across from Logan.
Alicia and Ashley set their trays down on the table and take the two empty seats next to Logan.
Alicia runs her hand through Logan’s hair and then kisses him.
I glance at Maggie, who frowns and looks away, even though Parker is holding her hand.
The Dean stands up in front of us and taps on a microphone. “I have a few announcements,” he says.
As I swivel in his direction, Ashley taps my foot under the table, getting my attention. She gives me a sexy smirk then slides her bare foot up my leg then straight toward my crotch.
The Dean makes a few announcements that I’m not listening to, because I’m trying to get Ashley to get her damn foot off me without making a scene.
Just as I get her to comply, I hear the Dean say, “Keatyn Monroe, it’s come to my attention that you’ve been seen canoodling around campus with Dawson Johnson.”
Canoodling? What does that even mean?
I turn around in my seat to face the stage at the end of the cafe. Why would the Dean say something like that in public?
He continues. “I know you’re new, but we have very high standards here.”
Whitney laughs so loud that the whole lunchroom can hear. “This is priceless,” she says, and my mind starts going crazy, wondering what Whitney has done now.
Did she tell the Dean something that will get Keatyn in trouble? Is she trying to get her kicked out of school?
I grab my phone and text my sister.
Me: What has Whitney done?
Peyton: I have no idea.
Me: You have to stop it.
The Dean continues. “You’re about to see just how high.”
Then the room fills with the sound of stripper music. The Dean drops the microphone and starts dancing.
And he doesn’t dance very well. I should teach him a thing or two.
Everyone at our table is both laughing hysterically and cheering him on.
I glance at Peyton. She shakes her head at me. She has no idea.
The Dean sticks his index finger in his mouth then touches it to his ass. Like it’s sizzling hot.
I can’t help but laugh, too.
The side door opens. Jake, Riley, Bryce, Dallas, Tyrese, Ace, and some other guys on the team dance their way into the room.
This must be some skit.
The guys line up next to the Dean and do a striptease dance, pulling their school blazers off and tossing them to the ground.
All the girls at our table start clapping and screaming.
I look at Keatyn, see her shimmying to the music.
Whitney leans over and says something into Keatyn’s ear, and I laugh as I watch Keatyn flip her the bird. Then she stands up, pumps her fist in the air, and screams.
All the guys except for Jake strip off their oxfords—the Dean included—and swing them above their heads like lassos.
This is crazy. And fun. My guess is this is something to boost ticket sales for the Homecoming game. But then why would the Dean have mentioned Keatyn’s name?
Jake dances up to Keatyn and crooks his finger at her. She skips up to him as he pulls her into his hips and grinds against her.
You’ve got to love her spontaneity. From the look on her face, she has no clue what’s going on either. They must have chosen her because they knew she’d love being on stage in front of everyone. That she’d dance and have fun. She’s not afraid to make a fool of herself.
It’s one of the many things I love about her.
Next thing I know, she’s unbuttoning his shirt, dropping low and shaking her ass. Jake pulls her up and puts her arms in the air then slides his hands from the tips of her fingers down the sides of her chest to her waist.
I curl my fists into balls and swallow hard, immediately feeling jealous and wanting nothing more than to run up there and rip his hands clean off his body.
She runs her finger down the front of his shirt.
Jake pushes her back a little and says, “Get ready.”
The music switches and the lyrics scream, Aaaaare yooooou readyyyyy? The crowd yells back, “YES!” Then a fast techno beat blares through the speakers.
The Dean jumps out from the line and rips his t-shirt straight down the middle. On his white pasty chest is a red painted H.
Jake follows suit. Ripping his shirt down the middle. On his chest is a red O.
What? No. No. No. No.
Riley jumps up in line and goes next. On his chest is the letter M. And on down the line, boys rip their shirts off, reveal their chests and a red letter. E. C. O. M. I. N. G.
Dawson is asking Keatyn to Homecoming. Before I get the chance.
This can’t be happening.
Dawson slides in at the end of the line.
He hands her a bouquet of pink roses, then very slowly rips his shirt off too. On his chest there is a ?
I watch in horror as he says, “What do you say, Keatie? Will you go to Homecoming with me?”
Please, say no. Please, say no.
But she screams out, “Yes,” jumps into his arms, and gives him a steamy kiss.
I can’t bear to watch, so I turn back around and stare at my lunch, feeling much like I did in my dream last night—like I was just shot in the chest and can’t breathe.
“Wasn’t that an amazing way for Dawson to ask Keatyn to Homecoming, Aiden?” Ashley asks, rubbing it in.
No fucking way I’m asking her.
I get up, leaving my lunch, and march out of the cafe.
I sit on a bench, feeling defeated and wallowing in self-pity until I see students making their way to their afternoon classes.
I consider skipping French. How am I supposed to go sit behind her and smell her cotton-candy-scented hair every time she moves after this?
You have a wild side.
French
Keatyn floats her way into class looking like she’s on cloud nine.
I hate her.
“Well, that was something,” I say flatly. I must be a glutton for punishment because I can’t help wondering if she would have liked my proposal better.
She turns around and faces me. She’s beaming. Obviously, she loved the way Dawson asked.
“Wasn’t it outrageous? The way he asked. I loved it!”
“You like stuff like that? Being the center of attention.” I roll my eyes toward the ceiling and laugh. I’m such an idiot. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. Of course, you do. You seemed to be enjoying yourself. So, how come you never danced like that when we danced? It was pretty sexy.”
“Oh gosh, did I look stupid?”
“No, everyone loved how you played along. You looked shocked. Were you?”
“I had no clue. I thought I was in trouble. Even when the Dean started dancing, I thought it was some new girl hazing or something.”
“You have a wild side.” Something I hadn’t considered.
“Everyone does. Do you?”
“You have a boyfriend now. You probably won't be finding out,” I snap.
“If I was wild, that wouldn't stop me,” she fires back.
I gaze at her for a beat. “No, I guess it wouldn’t,” I mutter out.
“You’re right though,” she says, practically bouncing in her seat. God, she looks beautiful. And happy. The bad part of all this is, I like seeing her happy. Even though I’m miserable. “I would never cheat, but he only asked me to Hom
ecoming. Not to be his girlfriend.”
Annie sits down and grabs Keatyn’s arm. “That was so adorable! I can’t believe you danced with Jake like that! Whitney was seething! It was awesome!”
“Just before it all started, Whitney was telling me that Dawson was going to ask her to Homecoming. Telling me how they bonded in the limo. How they will be King and Queen.”
Annie sighs. “Don’t do anything to make her mad at you, Keatyn. She’s not a nice person.”
She nods. One would expect that after what Whitney pulled this weekend, Keatyn would already know that.
She swivels in her seat, facing me again. “You know, it’s because of you that Dawson and I are still together. I haven’t thanked you properly, but what you did—how you told Riley. Seriously, thank you.”
I close my eyes and swallow back my anger, grinding my pencil into my notebook instead of yelling at her for how dumb she is for being with Dawson. How she should be with me. But I can’t. Especially now that I know what’s she’s going through. I lean closer to her and whisper, “I told you in the chapel that I’m done pretend punching your head.”
She smiles. It kills me. “I’m glad, Aiden. I don’t like when we fight.”
I smile back. I can’t help it. But at the same time, she’s with him. He won. I lost. In fact, tonight at tutoring, I’m going to shove her lies in her face and threaten to tell her Homecoming date all about it. Screw it.
“I’m done fighting,” I tell her.
She doesn’t say anything in reply. Just slumps her shoulders, like what I said upset her, then turns around.
Wait. Does she want me to fight for her?
This is familiar.
2:45pm
I’m at football practice when I notice Keatyn running toward me, her long blonde hair flying behind her. She’s changed out of her soccer clothes and into a skimpy dance outfit.
Damn.
“Hey, would it be okay if we did tutoring in your room tonight?” she asks, slightly out of breath. “Everyone is talking about lunch, about how Dawson asked me to Homecoming, and I know if we go to the library we won’t get anything done because people will come up to gush about it.”
