by Jillian Dodd
I watch him go over to where Nick and Logan are standing. A cheerleader that I don’t really know wraps her arms around Aiden's neck in a greeting.
I study her. Wondering if that’s what Aiden's dream girl looks like.
She's petite, with long dark hair, and a sweet smile. Her eyes are small and just a little too close together, but other than that she has a nicely proportioned face. And a body. A killer body. That kind of curvy body that boys love and I couldn’t get with the best plastic surgeon in all of Beverly Hills.
I look around.
All my friends are paired off. Which explains their lack of texts. Annie is sitting on a log with Ace. Heads together. Holding hands. Deep in conversation. Maggie is making out with Parker up against a tree. Katie isn’t really visible because Dallas is lying on top of her, groping her shirt.
Jake has his arm wrapped around Whitney. She’s smoking a cigarette and he’s drinking whiskey straight out of a bottle.
My eyes flit back to Aiden and the girl.
“S’up, girly,” Shark says, wandering over to stand next to me.
He appears to be a little tipsy, but his eyes follow mine straight to Aiden.
“Is she the dream girl?” I ask him.
“Chelsea? No.”
“She seems to like him.”
Shark laughs. "All the girls like him."
I watch as another girl bounces up to Aiden, shoves her boobs out, and hands him a shot. They click glasses and slam the shots together. Then she starts dancing in front of him. Grabbing his hands and trying to get him to dance with her.
“It appears that they do.” I say, realizing I’ve never seen this side of Aiden. He’s flirting. Laughing. Drinking. Doing shots. He even does a little arm shimmy, which gets the girls all worked up.
He, Nick, and Logan are literally surrounded by girls.
Weird.
“So who do you think will be Homecoming Queen? I’m having a tough time with the odds,” Shark admits.
“Why?”
“Because history suggests that Whitney will win. Every other Clarke has won. But there are other factors.”
“What factors?”
“My personal opinion is supposed to stay out of the odds. I always look at the facts. But the fact is, I don’t care for Whitney much. I’d rather see Mariah or Peyton win. Also, the freshman class is large this year, and I have no idea how they will vote. One would think based on Whitney’s lack of activities, it would give Peyton and Mariah an advantage.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
He leans his head close to mine. “Will it affect the odds?” He pulls out a flask, takes a swig, and hands it to me.
I nod my head as I take a swig. When the alcohol hits my throat, I want to spit it out. It burns all the way down to my stomach. “What is this?”
“Everclear. Hundred proof. Fastest way to get drunk.”
“Are you trying to get drunk fast?”
He gives me a wide smirk. “No, but I have been known to share with an attractive female or two.”
I laugh. “I see. Trying to get the girl drunk fast.”
“So, tell me the secret.”
“Ninety percent of the freshman class voted for me for Student Council. I never would have gotten on it otherwise. And I was thinking . . .”
“Of swaying their vote?”
I grin at him. “Yeah. But I don't want anyone to know. I want to sway quietly.”
“An underground campaign. Excellent.”
“Something like that. Whitney hates me. And I'm not doing it to be mean to her, but I just think a person that is more involved in school activities should win.”
“So Peyton or Mariah?”
“I'll vote for Peyton, and I hope she wins.”
Shark and I sit down on a newly vacated log. The couple that was sitting here has wandered off, hand in hand.
It makes me miss Dawson.
Directly across the circle of logs, right in my line of sight, is Aiden. Logan sitting on his left. Two girls on each side of them and three girls sitting in front of them in the dirt. Logan appears to be telling a story, and Aiden is occasionally interjecting a comment and laughing.
Aiden's blond hair is practically glowing in the moonlight. The shadows playing across his face make him look angular and more mature. And when he smiles, it's like a god reached down and touched the forest with light.
Shark pulls out a joint and lights it up as Peyton sits down next to him. “What's up, girlie?” Shark says to her.
“I hope you're sharing,” she replies.
He nods, takes a hit, and passes it to her. She takes a big hit, holding it in her lungs for a long time, then slowly breathes out and hands it to me. “Whitney's pissed at me.”
“Why?” I ask, as I pass the joint back to Shark.
“Because I'm going with you this weekend. And I didn't even mention a new dress. She would have come unglued.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That we’re shopping for dress-up days for the dance team.” She takes another deep hit. “Ah, much better.”
Aiden walks over and sits down next to his sister. Shark hands him another joint. As he sucks in, the stubble on the side of his face becomes more noticeable. All that light scruff.
I can sort of understand why the girls were literally sitting as his feet.
A girl leans down in front of Shark and whispers drunkenly, Let's hook up. He stands up, tells us, Duty calls, and leaves with the girl.
Peyton gives Aiden what appears to be some sort of godly telepathic message. They nod at each other and she says, “There's Brad. I need to talk to him.”
Leaving me sitting alone with Aiden.
“Where's the harem?” I ask, slightly sarcastically, as my phone vibrates.
Dawson: I lobe you
Me: I love you too.
Dawson: I druk.
Me: You’re drunk? Where are you?
Dawson: no shoes./'
Me: Where are you?
Dawson: gurl bed partzy
I feel like someone just stabbed me. My cell phone drops out of my hands.
Aiden picks my phone up, reads it, shakes his head, and hands it back to me.
"Um . . ." I look to Aiden, hoping he’ll say something reassuring. That all the awful thoughts I’m having about Dawson cheating couldn’t possibly be true.
But he doesn’t. He just looks at me. With those green eyes. Unfortunately, there’s no confidence in them, only sympathy.
He feels bad for me because he thinks Dawson is cheating on me.
And something else. Something that I always see when he looks at me. It’s like his eyes speak to me. Trying to get me to understand something. Something that resonates deep inside me.
But something that I don’t understand. It’s like being spoken to in a foreign language.
I don’t have a clue what it means.
But I do know what to do.
Me: Your brother is “druk,” can’t find his shoes, and is in a “gurl’s bed at a partzy.”
Riley: Shit.
Me: Yeah.
Aiden says, “Are you okay?”
“Not really. Have fun with the harem. I’m heading back to my room.”
“I’ll walk you. The harem will wait.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine.” Tears start leaking out of my eyes. I don’t want Aiden to see them, so I turn around and run. Run through the trees. Run to my dorm window. When I get there, I close my eyes, lean against the side of the building, and start to slide down into the grass.
Aiden is right there. He pins me against the brick wall, moves his leg between mine, and pushes his chest tightly against me.
He looks down at me, taking in my lips like he always does right before he kisses me.
But he doesn’t kiss me.
He shakes his head, wraps his arms around me, and hugs me.
Just hugs me.
Which really makes me start sobbing. “I’m never, ever tel
ling a guy I love him again. It’s like I’m love cursed.”
He nuzzles his face into my hair and whispers soothingly, “You’re not love cursed. You just aren’t . . .”
“Just aren’t what?”
I feel his chest move deeply in and out, sighing against me. “Maybe he’s just drunk at the party. If he was hooking up, I doubt he’d stop to text you.”
“I think the hooking up is over and now he can’t find his shoes.”
“So you don’t trust him?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, when he left, did you trust him?”
“I did. He told me over and over not to worry. To trust him. That he loves me.”
“If he really loves you, he won’t cheat on you. Even if he’s drunk. You should have faith in the people you love. Maybe if you did, they wouldn’t let you down.”
I pull out of the hug and turn my back on him. “I’m going to cry alone in my room now. Thanks for your kind words,” I say sarcastically. But then I swing around madly. “So it’s my fault if he cheats?! That sounds like the kind of zen bullshit the Keats guy would tell me. I didn’t expect it from you. But I should have. It fits your whole player thing. The whole it’s-never-my-fault, take-no-responsibility-for-your-actions-because-it’s-easier-to-blame-fate, or cosmic forces, or someone else, than it is to admit that you just suck. Good night.”
He runs his hands down the sides of my arms and for reasons I don’t understand, it calms me down.
“Boots, I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that . . .” He pushes his hand through his hair, causing the ends to stick up a little. “Maybe the guy you’re with isn’t worthy of your love.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
My phone starts buzzing and buzzing.
“Who is it?” Aiden asks.
“It’s Riley,” I reply as I answer the phone. “Hey, Riley.”
“Where are you?”
“About to go in my room.”
“Cam wants to talk to you. I’ve got him on conference with me. Say hi, Cam.”
Cam says, in a voice that is almost identical to Dawson’s minus the sweetness, “Don’t be mad at him.”
“He’s texting me from a girl’s bed!”
“Yeah, a bed that he’s in alone.”
“No offense, Cam, but Riley told me about you. How you didn't think Dawson should have a girlfriend. I get it. You're a player. You want to have fun and not be tied down.”
He laughs. “Actually, I'd love to be tied down.” I hear him yell out to whoever is at the party. "Anyone got any rope? I want to be tied up."
“I said tied down.”
“Close enough,” he says with another laugh.
“It’s been great talking to you. Tell your brother when he sobers up not to bother calling me.”
“And you need to cool your panties. He didn't hook up with anyone. In fact, he sucks as a wingman now.”
“What do you mean?”
“He won't shut up about you. It’s hard to pick up girls when one of us is all panty whipped and talking about his amazingly hot girlfriend. So I did what I had to do. Got him drunk. Put him to bed.”
I let out an audible sigh and get tears of relief in my eyes. “He's really alone?”
“Yes. He’s crazy about you. I’m not gonna let him screw that up. At least not until I meet you. I gotta go. Just got a taker on the rope.”
Riley lets out a loud laugh then says to me, “You okay?”
“Do you think Cam’s telling the truth and not just covering for him?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then, yes, I’m okay. Thanks, Riley.”
Aiden looks at me expectantly.
“His brother said he’s a bad wingman. That he kept talking about me in front of the girls. So he got him drunk and put him to bed.”
Aiden crosses his arms in front of his broad chest and stiffens up his jaw. “Well, that’s great.”
“I’m going to bed now,” I say as I climb in my window. Once inside, I stick my head back out. “Thanks for following me. Checking on me. Trying to make me feel better. I appreciate it, Aiden.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
I give him a sassy grin. “You just did. But yes. Ask away.”
“What you said today in French. Do you think true love is bullshit or do you believe in it?”
I look up at the almost full moon shining over his head and sigh. “I really want to believe in it.”
Aiden turns around and looks up at the moon. “The moon is really pretty tonight, isn’t it?” He turns back around and gives me the kind of smile that almost makes me believe it could be true. I think gods have that effect on people. They give them hope. “Don’t let my sister go crazy shopping tomorrow.”
I laugh. “I won’t.”
“Night, Boots.”
Saturday, October 1st
It does feel good.
8:30am
I’m on the train with all the girls. Ariela is funny. One minute she’s telling us how Riley drives her nuts, the next minute how crazy she is about him.
“I still can’t believe I’m dating a junior! I didn’t even date juniors when I was a freshman!”
She turns to me. “Why does Riley call you baby?”
“I don’t know. It’s like his nickname for me. He’s called me it pretty much since we met.”
“It makes me crazy. He doesn’t have a nickname for me.” Her pretty face pouts.
“He likes you a lot. It shouldn’t matter what he calls anyone else. I mean, you know his reputation, right?”
“Well sure, he’s a player. Why do you think I’m making him wait for sex?”
Maggie deadpans, “Cuz you want it to be special.” Annie says it at the exact same time, only she says it in her dreamy way.
We all laugh. Katie says, “Do you think I should do it with Dallas?”
Annie goes, “It’s way too soon.” Then she turns to Maggie and says, “Sorry, but I think it is.”
“We almost did last night.”
“You did?” Annie screeches. “Why?”
“Cuz it feels good,” Maggie replies.
Annie looks at her like she’s crazy.
Peyton high fives Maggie and says, “It does feel good.”
Maggie, Peyton, and Ariela go on to discuss which sexual positions are their favorites while Annie is shaking her head. I’m laughing at them when I get a text from Dawson.
Dawson: I don’t even know what to say. I’m being a chicken and texting you. I’m sorry. I swore to you that I wouldn’t cheat and then . . .
My heart is back in my throat again. Did Cam lie to me? Is Dawson confessing?
Me: And then . . . what?
Dawson: I read what I texted you last night.
Me: You were drunk and in a girl’s bed. I cried.
Dawson: I’m so sorry, Keatie. I don’t even remember what happened.
Me: Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.
Dawson: Are we broke up? I looked at facebook and you didn’t change your status.
Me: You must remember something. Flirting. Kissing. That’s usually how it starts.
Dawson: But I don’t. I didn’t kiss anyone. And I was telling them all about you. About how amazing you are.
Me: Is that a Johnson brother rule? If you don’t remember it, it didn’t happen.
Dawson: I don’t know what happened.
Me: But you think you did something? Why do you think that?
Dawson: My texts last night. And I just woke up. In a girl’s bed.
Me: You alone in that bed?
Dawson: Yes.
Me: Have you talked to your brother yet?
Dawson: No.
Me: I talked to him last night.
Dawson: Oh. Shit. Why?
Me: Because I got your texts and was very upset. I told Riley. Riley called Cam.
Dawson: Fuck. You hate me now, don’t you? I’m so sorry, Keatie, really. I would never do that to you on purpose. Like Ca
m kept giving me shots and we were playing pool and he was flirting with this one chick. I was giving him shit about just wanting to hook up. I was telling them how amazing a relationship can be. He told me I was a bad wingman and to shut the fuck up. Playing pool is the last thing I remember.
Me: It’s hard to trust someone who gets so drunk they can’t remember what they did or who they may have been with. Because you know eventually they will screw up. Cam told me you didn’t hook up with anyone. That he got you drunk and then put you to bed. But he’s your brother. He would lie for you. So I’m not sure what to think.
Dawson: Thank God. I was sitting here thinking I’d lost you.
Me: Maybe you already have, Dawson. I’m not sure what to believe at this point. You told me you missed your brother. I stupidly assumed you went there to hang out with him. Not just to party. I’m on the train going to shop. You and Cam have fun this weekend.
Dawson: You’re mad.
Me: Tell you what. Tonight, I’ll party. Go to a club. Meet up with a bunch of guys I don’t know. Then I’ll text you about how I’m so drunk. In some guy’s bed. And how I can’t find my shoes. We’ll see how that makes you feel. And if you trust me after.
Dawson:
I know I’m kind of being a bitch right now. But I can’t just let him get away with it. He’s a big boy. He could have said no to the shots. So I’m not texting him back for a little while.
Screw him. I’m going to enjoy shopping with my friends.
I text Riley.
Me: Do you really think Camden told me the truth? I was relieved to hear it last night. But now I’m kind of upset again and don’t know what to believe. Dawson texted me. He doesn’t remember and assumes he hooked up with someone based on the texts he sent me. Says the last thing he remembers is Camden “making” him do shots and them playing pool. Please don’t lie for them to protect my feelings. I really like Dawson. You know that I do. But I’d rather know the truth.
