by Jillian Dodd
Maggie screeches, “Yes! I’d much rather have you guys help me pick out a gown than my mother!”
“Where should we go?” Katie asks.
“New York. Dawson will be at Columbia, so I thought we could have a girls’ weekend. Shop all day. Stay at my loft. Party all night.”
“That sounds perfect!” Maggie exclaims.
“Hey, Ariela made Court too. Would you mind if I invited her?”
Katie says, “But she’s a cheerleader? Isn’t she supposed to be our mortal enemy during Homecoming?”
“Technically, yes, but she's really nice," Maggie says wistfully. "We were best friends until I accidentally slept with her ex-boyfriend."
"Accidentally slept with him?”
Maggie laughs. "I was drunk."
"Do you hate each other?"
"No, she forgave me, but we really haven't been close since."
“Do you have her number?”
“Yeah, here. I just texted it to you.”
I open the text, add her to my contacts, and text her.
Me: Hey! It’s Keatyn. Congrats on Court! Me, Annie, Maggie, and Katie are going to NY on Saturday morning to go shopping. Maggie and I need dresses and we all want to find stuff to wear for spirit week. We're staying at my loft. Wanna join us?
Ariela: Is Maggie okay with that?
Me: Completely. She says she misses you.
Ariela: Awww. Tell her I miss her too. I hoped to make Court again this year, but I was afraid to buy a dress early and jinx getting nominated. So I need to shop too. I’d love to go!
Me: We plan to shop all day and drink all night. A happy, boy-free night.
Ariela: I could use a boy-free night. Riley pisses me off sometimes.
Me: Why?
Ariela: He hasn't asked me to Homecoming yet!! It's only a week away! Is he going stag?
Me: I'm not sure. I'll ask him.
Yes, I lie to her. But after tomorrow night, she won't be mad anymore.
Ariela: Thanks :) I can’t wait!
"She's on board, and, Maggie, she says she misses you."
"Oh, that's so sweet. This is such a good idea. All right, I have to get going too. I'm working on a date of my own," she says as they breeze out the door.
As soon as they leave, I send an email to the concierge service for my loft with a long list of food and drinks I want delivered. Then I look at the clock.
Let's see. It's six here, so it should be well after midnight, depending on where he is in Europe.
I push Damian's number and, as usual, he answers right away.
"Keats, what's up?"
"A friend just showed me your video. The new song. It's really great. Catchy. She already has it memorized." I sing, "Be a rock star. Be a rock star."
"I've been wanting to call you. I'm sorry I haven't. You should've been the first one to hear it, since you inspired it with all your drama this summer."
"It's good to know my screwed up life is so inspirational," I say sarcastically.
"Hey, you're the one who told me people could probably relate. And you were right. We performed it one night just to gauge the crowd's reaction. It was nuts. They were singing it with us before it was over. And the label's not stupid. They knew we had a hit on our hands, got us some studio time, and we recorded it quickly. We released it a week ago and it's already hit number two in Japan."
"And there are over a million views on the concert video. Damian, I'm so proud of you. Where are you anyway?"
"Helsinki. We have a show here tomorrow night. That will round out the European tour. We'll be doing some promotional stuff, maybe get some studio time, then back at it in Japan. How's it going there?"
"I'm doing good. I'm dating a guy. He's really sweet . . ."
"Not to interrupt but I think I'm going to be in Miami soon. Special gig. I'll let you know. It'd be great to see you. I miss my Keats."
"I was your Keats before I was anyone else's."
He clears his voice. "You talk to him much?"
"I did something stupid, Damian. Vincent almost found me."
"What did you do?"
I tell him about the surf tournament.
"That's it. I'm kicking his ass."
"All that I just told you about Vincent and that's what you got out of the story? That you need to kick B's ass?"
"Yes. I'm definitely kicking his ass. And if I do Miami, it will be a very last minute surprise-the-audience thing. Not planned like Brook's tour. I really want to see you. What are you doing for the holidays?"
"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it yet."
"I think you should go to The Crab." The Crab is our secret name for their house in St. Croix.
"Could I? Will your dad be there?"
"No. Marissa is pregnant again."
"Awww!"
"Yeah. It's a boy this time. She wants to name him Rain."
"Well, his sister is named Stormy. I guess that would fit."
"He'll get his ass kicked on the playground with a name like that. Why can't they name him Lightning or Thunderbolt or something tough?"
"Speaking of names. My sisters got a dog like Buoy. They named her Kiki."
He laughs out loud.
I miss making him laugh. I miss him.
"My dad told me about that. All I have to say is Kiki must be one patient dog. I heard the girls painted her with pink and purple paint, then poured glitter all over her. When Tommy got pissed, Ivery took him aside and told him that Kiki was sad because she didn't have pretty tutus or glitter shoes and they wanted to her feel pretty. They're so funny. Everyone says they are going to have to call you Buoy when you come home." He stops laughing and is quiet for a minute. "I miss you, Keats. Everyone misses you."
"I miss everyone too. Garrett doesn't think I'll ever be able to go home. But I'm doing okay, Damian. I'm starting over."
"That's bullshit. If this goes on much longer, screw Garrett, you and me will figure out something together."
"Like old times, huh? You helping me write the scripts of my life?"
"Exactly. So, hey, we have a morning radio interview in a few hours and I haven't even been to bed yet."
I hear a girl's voice in the background say, Baby, hurry up.
"Who's that? Damian! Do you have a girlfriend?"
He laughs loudly and then whispers to me. "More like groupies. Touring is awesome."
"Then I better let you get back to that."
"Actually, I was just getting ready to leave. I really do need to get a few hours of sleep. Are you sure you're doing okay, like, really?"
"I think so."
"Any guys giving you shit?"
"I love you."
"You're avoiding that topic. Does that mean one already is?"
"No. It's more like the opposite."
"A guy is treating you too well?"
"Yeah, maybe."
"Maybe you should marry him," he laughs. "No, wait, you can't. We're already married."
"It will be easy to annul. We married under false pretenses. You told me you were a prince."
"Only because you wrote the script and made me wear that girly crown."
"True, but I also cast you as a frog because hopping around like a maniac and singing songs was something you were actually good at."
"Are you saying I wasn't a believable Prince? You've just dashed my dreams of winning an Oscar."
"I'm saying you played a much better frog." I hear the girl whine again in the background. "Case in point," I say and hang up.
Your arm candy.
6:45pm
After dinner, Jake walks by us, puckers his lips at me, and makes a loud kissing noise. "Come on, sweets, let's go."
Dawson flips him off, wraps his arms around me, and kisses my neck. "How ’bout you skip tryouts and come to my room? I guarantee it will be more fun."
"Why don't you come watch me?"
"I really don't want to watch you kiss a bunch of guys on stage."
"You know Jake i
s exaggerating that part just to piss you off. I kiss Jake three times in the play. And they have to be perfect fairytale kisses. They aren't hot kisses."
"Like this?" He lays his lips gently on mine in a chaste fairytale-style kiss, but then grabs the back of my hair and shoves his tongue in my mouth.
"Are you sure you don't want to try out? Those are the kind of kisses I would like to practice over and over again."
"So Jake's not going to kiss you like this?"
"Um, not even close."
"But if you do the play, we won't have much time for our kind of practicing," he pouts as he slides his hands down my back and squeezes my ass.
"We'll have plenty of time for that. I promise," I tell him as we head out of the café.
What I don’t tell him is that this is something I really want to do. And that for the first time in my life, I can try out for a role and not worry about being an embarrassment to my mom.
I can just be me.
I practically skip to the auditorium. I'm so excited.
I see Jake and Peyton ahead of me. They appear to be having a heated discussion. He walks through the auditorium doors and leaves Peyton outside.
She looks upset. "Are you okay?"
She takes a deep breath. "Yeah. Jake isn't going to say anything, but I'm pretty sure he already told Bryce. Whitney cannot find out."
"Congrats on Court. I meant to tell you earlier, but you were reveling in the freedom of throwing away your shoes.”
She brightens. “That felt really good. And you too. I’m so happy for you."
"What's the deal with wearing a formal dress on a football field? That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard."
"Really? It seems normal to me. So I saw Maggie and Katie earlier. They said you all are going to New York to shop this weekend. Do you think I could come with you? Is that bad? My totally inviting myself."
"We'd love it! I would’ve asked you. I just figured you already had a dress."
"Whitney has had her dress for months. She's been planning for the perfect dress since she started dating Dawson."
"Do you have one?"
"I do, but she helped me pick it out." She scowls. "I don't love it."
I give her a grin. "You're going to win, so you need to be in a dress that you love."
She bounces a little. "Wouldn't that be amazing?"
I glance at my watch. "Hey, I gotta get in there."
"Break a leg.” She looks at me sincerely and says, "Thanks for letting me come with you."
"You're welcome. Um, do you want to invite Whitney? I felt bad when she left me out, I don't want to make her feel that way."
"Hell, no," she says and marches off.
"Keatyn Monroe," the drama coach says, calling my name off a list in his hand.
It’s time! I was a little nervous while I was standing here waiting for my turn, but as I walk across the stage, it’s gone.
I’m ready.
I have my lines memorized.
The accent down.
I know how I want to portray the character physically.
I've even dressed the part in a sweet but flirty skirt and cowboy boots.
I recite my lines and forget about everything else.
After my tryout, I step slowly off the stage. I know I have to let the next person audition, but I'm not ready to leave. I could stay up here all night.
Dance. Talk. Pretend to be someone else.
I don't want to leave.
I send Dawson a quick text, telling him I'll meet him later, and work my way through the seats to the darkened back of the auditorium.
I'm surprised to find Aiden sitting right where I was headed. "Are you trying out?" I whisper as I take a seat next to him.
"No, I watched Logan and Nick try out earlier. They had to get to the JV game. I decided to stay and watch for a while."
"Shouldn't you be there too?”
"Cole was the starting receiver and he got hurt, so I’m filling in for him and will only be playing Varsity for a while.”
"That's exciting. Congrats."
He cocks his head at me. "So just who was that up there?"
"What do you mean?" My heart sinks. "Oh my gosh, did I suck?"
He smiles gently and shakes his head. "No, you didn't suck. It was like watching a different person. The accent. The way you flipped your hair."
He knows how I flip my hair?
He continues. "And you put your hand on your hip when she was being sassy. You only do that in real life when you're mad. You even held your jaw differently. Like, not as tight as usual and your face looked softer. Sweeter, maybe."
I break out in a grin. "That's because she's not a bitch like I am."
"You're not a bitch."
"No? But I can play one." I straighten my back. Tilt my chin and look down on him. Roll my shoulders slightly forward in a model pose. Get a defiant look in my eye.
"Damn, you haven't even said anything yet, and I'm already scared," he says with an adorable laugh. He studies my face for a minute. "You know, you have a very expressive face."
My mind flashes to Vincent saying those same words. I remember thinking it was sweet that he noticed. Of course, that was before he tried to kidnap me.
"Thank you," I say to Aiden.
"You belong up there. On stage. You made it look completely effortless, like you’re a natural."
My heart aches to tell him that I should be a natural at it, having an actress for a mom and a model for a dad. I think about my dad. How he always used to tell me to think of something happy and then would snap a photo. How we would pose for silly pictures. How he could think about something sad and look like a different person.
I nod my head and whisper the words I've been afraid to admit to anyone. "I think it's what I want to do. Like, for a living. Like, if I'm good enough."
"If I didn't need you here to tutor me, I'd suggest you quit school, go to Hollywood, and start auditioning. I'm serious, Keatyn."
My heart skips a beat. He just called me Keatyn.
God, my name sounds beautiful on his tongue.
I get all flush and flustered. Why do I still get that way around him? I kicked the Aiden addiction.
"Um, uh, thanks," I stammer. "But I think I need some practice first. Some classes, maybe."
"Well, I know you'll get the part."
"You can't know that. I was the first one to audition for it.”
"Why did you pick that role and not the lead?"
"I like how she affects the story, I guess. I like how she has to follow her heart and how she finds true love. How even though the Bad Prince tries to keep her and the Good Prince apart, their love prevails.”
Aiden lets out a deep, sexy growl. The kind of growl that makes a girl want to rip off her panties.
Not me, of course. I’m just saying most girls. Well, some girls would, maybe.
I think.
“I always knew you were a romantic at heart,” he says.
For the first time tonight, I start to sweat. I move my arms out wide on the armrests to give my pits some air to breathe.
No. I will not do it.
I will not talk to the hottie god about true love or romance.
I will change the subject.
"I've heard it's hard to be an actress. Dealing with the paparazzi. The filming locations. Kissing your cast mates. I can see why Dawson is having a hard time with it."
Aiden leans closer to me and puts his big hand on top of my knee.
It's a casual gesture, leaning in toward me, his hand on my knee for balance. "Dawson should be here supporting you. And if he had come, he'd know. It's not you up there."
Electrical shivers shoot up my leg.
And my knee is such a slut!
She likes it! She’s that friend you have. The one who you tell you’re on a diet and the next day she shows up with cupcakes and says, Aww, just one won’t hurt.
But when I look down at my knee, I realize that she’s not only a slut, s
he’s an enabler. She’s all, Look at your knee. How small it looks under his big hand. How safe it feels.
God, I hate my knee.
And Aiden is talking to me. Something about a premiere and a red carpet. But I don’t really catch all he’s saying.
Because. His. Hand. Is. On. My. Knee.
"You'll walk the red carpet with me?" I ask unbelievably. Is that what he said?
It's dark back here, but I instantly see a flash of brilliant white teeth.
"I said I'd watch you walk it, but if you're offering . . ."
“Oh. I, um, just, you know, a hot guy in a black suit is, um, well, it’s like the ultimate accessory."
I get another radiant smile. "It's agreed then. I'll be your arm candy."
I have the sudden urge to lick him. To see if he tastes as good as he looks.
He leans back to watch the next audition, taking his big hand with him.
I close my eyes and shake my head.
How the hell does he do that?
Damn him!
He's like a goddamned walking love potion.
I quickly grab the key necklace, hoping it’s like an antidote, and slide it back and forth across my chin while we watch the rest of the auditions in silence.
An obsession with bras.
9:30pm
After auditions, I have a little time before curfew, so Dawson leaves the JV game and meets me in his room.
“I think my tryout went pretty well.”
"Speaking of pretty . . ." He kisses my neck hard, unbuttons my blouse, and grins. "This is the bra from the day at the library."
"You have an obsession with bras. What are you, like thirteen?" I laugh, but I love that he likes them.
He throws me on the bed and shakes his head. "I know a lot more now than when I was thirteen."
My phone buzzes with a text and I peek at it over his shoulder.
"Dawson! Ohmigawd! Yay! I got a callback!"
"A what?"
"A callback. From the director! I mean, the drama coach!"
"What does that mean?"
