by Jillian Dodd
Page 8
I’m thinking about what’s sure to come next—an amazing goodnight kiss—when I hear a voice say, “Keatie?”
Oh, shit.
It’s Dawson, sitting on the steps in front of my dorm, obviously waiting for me.
I freeze. “Uh, hey, Dawson. What’s up?”
Aiden squeezes my hand, turns me around to face him, and completely ignores the fact that Dawson is here. “I had a great time tonight. ” He leans in, kisses me on the cheek, and says quietly, “And I’m keeping the feather. ”
Then he turns and walks away.
Dawson says, “You’re really dressed up. So, you got French food?”
“Yes, we did. Aiden was able to read most of the menu. How was your night? What’d you do?”
He grabs my waist like he always does and pulls me in toward him.
I give him a little hug.
But I can’t kiss him.
I just can’t.
“I complained to Bryce the entire time you were gone. He finally told me to shut the fuck up, so I came out here to wait for you. ”
I pull away from him. “Oh, I’m sorry, but I have to get in there. Sign in. I don’t want to get in trouble. Just text me or something. ”
We’re both ah-mazing.
10:45pm
I’m lying in my bed, listening to Katie breathing deeply and knowing that she’s already asleep.
I close my eyes and rub my finger slowly across my lip, remembering the feel the feather.
It was so amazing.
No, wait. Hang on.
I sound like a group of 12-year-olds at the mall. That skirt is ah-mazing. You look amazing, No, we are both ah-mazing.
Time for a new word. Amazing is so overused.
I pull up the thesaurus on my laptop and look for some new options.
Astonishing, awesome, fascinating, incredible, marvelous, prodigious, shocking, stunning, surprising, unbelievable, wonderful, extraordinary, rare, something hard to put into words, makes your heart beat faster.
Okay, so tonight with Aiden was extraordinarily, unbelievably, stunningly wonderful.
And totally ah-mazing.
My phone buzzes.
Hottie God: Hey :)
Me: Hey :) Tonight was wonderful. I enjoyed it.
Hottie God: Didn’t quite end the way I hoped it would.
Me: I was shocked to see Dawson sitting there. Sorry about that.
Hottie God: Just tell me.
Me: Tell you what?
Hottie God: Did you kiss him?
Me: I did not.
Hottie God: So you’re okay with me keeping the feather?
Me: Actually, I need it back.
Hottie God: Why?
Me: I’m thinking of having it bronzed.
Hottie God: Does that mean you liked it?
Me: Did I look like I liked it?
Hottie God: You looked like you loved it.
Me: You use a feather on all the girls?
Hottie God: Only you.
Me: I did love it.
Hottie God: Good :) Night, Boots.
I shut off my lamp and wait for the glow-in-the-dark stars to start glimmering.
Dawson: Keatie . . .
Me: Dawson . . .
Dawson: You’re killing me.
Me: You killed me first.
Dawson: Do you like him? Did you kiss him? Did you have sex with him?
Me: I don’t know. I did. I did not. And I can’t believe you would think I did!
Dawson: I’m feeling uncontrollably jealous.
Me: Why were you waiting for me? What did you want?
Dawson: To talk.
Me: So talk.
Dawson: This sucks.
Me: Yeah, it does.
Dawson: Do you want wood from me?
Me: Wood? Seriously, Dawson? Is sex ALL you think about? No. Right now, I do not want your wood.
Dawson: That’s not what I meant. I meant woo-ed or however the hell you spell it.
Me: Oh, sorry. What I want is a boyfriend that thinks I am worth some effort. I want a boyfriend who isn’t going to ditch me the second his ex sends him a text. That’s what I want.
Dawson: I can do romantic.
Me: I’m going to sleep now. Night, Dawson.
Dawson: No heart?
Me:
