“I can’t teach you to be feisty. It’s just something you’re born with. But sexy? I can help you with that.” Karmin finishes applying her red lipstick and leads me to the big, floor-length mirror on the opposite side of the locker room. “Take out your bow, and let down your hair.”
“But, I just put it in. Why—”
“Just do it,” she snaps as she takes her hair down as well. I do as I’m told and wait for further instructions. I’m not sure if she’s aware of how long it takes me to get the bumps out of a high-pony hairstyle, but I let it go anyway. “Sexiness comes from body movement. I’m talking hair, hips, and arms. So when you’re out on the dance floor tonight, work your hair. Flip it, run your fingers through it, I don’t care. But do something with it.”
She demonstrates how to do it, adding in some sensual swaying and over-the-head arm movements, and I try to mimic her. “How was that?”
“Not bad, Em. A little more hips, and you got it down.” We practice in the mirror a little longer, and then she starts rattling off other sexy things to do when I’m with Keegan: talk slower, bite your bottom lip, lean close to him when you’re talking so he can catch your scent—you do have a signature scent, don’t you?—and don’t forget to giggle A LOT. After a while I feel like I should have out a notepad and pen to jot everything down. “Oh, and when you’re slow-dancing and your arms are on his shoulders, occasionally play with the hair just above the back of his neck and stare into his eyes. That’s a surefire way to get a guy to kiss you.”
“Grab his hair and stare. Got it.”
“Stick with that, and you’ll have my brother under a spell. I just know it.”
Again, I know I shouldn’t ask her, but my curiosity wins the battle in my head again. It’s like whenever the good parts of my mind command me not to speak, the stupid parts push forward anyway. “Why are you helping me get with your brother? Isn’t this weird for you?”
“Nope. My brother was so hurt when Lori cheated on him, and it killed me to see him like that. But he likes you, and I know you like him. So I know you won’t hurt him like that. And you’re so nice, you probably wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Her words put a bittersweet taste in my mouth; a part of me likes Keegan and really wants to act on my feelings, but the other part of me is only using him to throw my parents off my trail. God, I’m a horrible person. This is definitely my first-class ticket to hell.
“Well, thanks for the advice. I’ll be sure to use it tonight.” I silently pull my hair back into a ponytail, and start for the door before she can rattle off more how-to-be-sexy tips, or flood my mind with more excruciating compliments.
“Not so fast. We haven’t gone over your kissing technique yet.”
“What do you mean—”
Before I can finish my question, Karmin grabs my face and starts leaning in, her red lips puckered.
I laugh as she moves closer. “I—I think I’m good on that one. Thanks, though.”
“Suit yourself,” she says with a smirk. “But if you ever need any tips, you know who to call.” I watch her pick up her sparkly pom-poms from the bench by her locker and strut her way out the door.
The confidence coursing through her is invigorating, and as I follow her out of the locker room, I can’t help but wonder what else she learned from Keegan’s ex-girlfriend. She is so open with her sexuality and willing to kiss me that she must have gone a lot farther than that. But then again, that’s none of my business.
We meet up with the rest of the girls outside the gym and start toward the football field; the bleachers and sidelines are filled with fans sporting our school colors, and the sight of it all fuels me with energy. When I get into position, I glance over at the student section. Keegan has painted his face half red and half black, and he’s passing out noisemakers and foam fingers. In all fours years of going here, I’ve always wondered who the guy that always painted his face for games was, and now I know. He winks at me when our eyes meet.
“Emma, I know your future boyfriend—aka my brother—is in the crowd right now, but I need you to get your game face on,” Karmin says before a band member blows his whistle and begins to play. I raise my sparkling red pom-poms in the air and begin doing the robotic arm motions that I’ve practiced a million times on the gym floor.
In the middle of our stand-dance with the band, I hear the student section grow rowdy all of a sudden, but I’m not allowed to look until the song is over. I imagine that Keegan is doing a crazy dance to get them going, but once I am able to look, I see that it’s Dylan starting the wave in the middle of the students. He doesn’t have a shirt on, but his skin is painted red with a big black C in the middle of it. He’s trying to beat out Keegan and doing a pretty damn good job at it. For a second, I wish I wasn’t on the dance team so that I could act as a buffer between the two, but it’s out of my control.
Throughout the entire game, I watch the tension grow between Keegan and Dylan. At one point, I even see Keegan bow out in the bleachers and let Dylan lead the crowd chants. I feel the pit of my stomach twist, turn, knot, and churn; this is my fault.
* * *
“Did you have fun, sis?” Dylan says when I see him after the game is over. “I did.”
“I saw that.” I want to ignore him, but he’s leaning on the side of my car, blocking my door so that we have to have a conversation. “Can I help you? I have to get ready for the dance.”
“This is what you wanted, right? For me to fit in, act normal?”
“I didn’t say become mortal enemies with Keegan.”
“Mortal enemies? No. That was just a friendly competition.”
“It didn’t seem like it.”
“Well, believe it or not, it was.” He picks at the paint on his chest and frowns. “I’ve got to go home and take a shower. See you at the dance, sis.” He backs away from me and starts toward his car. If my eyes were daggers, he would have two gashes in his back right now.
“You okay?” It’s Keegan. “You looked pissed as hell.”
“Oh, it’s just my brother. He’s always doing something dumb. You know brothers.”
“Yeah. I, myself, find that I suffer from Douchey Big Brother Syndrome from time to time.” He glances from me to Dylan and then nods in his direction. “He was stepping on my territory tonight.” And you don’t even know the half of it.
“Sorry about that. I don’t think he knew that this was your thing.”
“It’s cool. I was kind of pissed at first, but I figure I need to pass the torch down to someone when I leave this place. Might as well be him.” I like how cool he’s being about this. Dylan was in full-on four-year-old mode tonight. But not Keegan. His maturity is kind of hot. “Well, I’ll see you in about an hour.”
“Can’t wait.” I smile as he backs away, showing off a toothy grin of his own.
* * *
I pull the dress, wrapped in a plastic covering, from my backseat and head to the girls’ locker room to shower. Though I’ve never attended a homecoming dance here, it seems stupid to have it immediately after the game; the players, school spirit squads, and band members don’t have the luxury of going out to eat before the dance or getting picked up by our dates to take pictures. It’s strictly game, then dance, which seems silly to me.
When I walk through the gym doors with the rest of the spirit squad girls, I imagine that Dylan is at home rinsing the red and black paint off of his body. I hate that I like him so much; I wish I could stay mad at him for longer. He’s just jealous of Keegan, I think to myself. And I don’t blame him. Keegan is able to flirt with me out in the open, while every feeling that Dylan has for me has to be kept inside and hidden from the rest of the world. I’m the only one he can share it with. I’m the only one who can know.
The sweaty and usually smelly gym that I’ve come to know over the past four years has been transformed to fit the Evening in Paris theme. There are streamers hanging from the walls and strings of balloons that come together in the center to create
an Eiffel Tower tent look, and the floor is sprinkled with gold confetti. I don’t see Keegan walk in, but when I feel his hand on the small of my back, I melt into a smile. No guy has made it his mission to seek me out in a crowd of gorgeous girls.
“Hello, beautiful.” He’s wearing an all-white suit with a red bow tie. He looks even better than he normally does, and the more I look at him, the more my insides squirm with excitement for what is to come tonight.
“Me? What about you?” I look down at my short, white dress, and then back to him. Because he already knew what color my dress was, he probably tried to match me, which isn’t going to sit well with Dylan, but it makes us seem like a couple, and that electrifies me. He pulls a red rose corsage from behind his back, and I extend my wrist for him to fasten it on me. “Great minds,” he says, gesturing to our matching ensembles.
When I see Karmin emerge from the balloon arc in her lavender dress—which makes her boobs look amazing, just like she wanted—I know the dance is finally beginning. She’s the most popular girl in school, and everyone operates on her time. Whenever she arrives at her destination, everyone else is not far behind her.
Dylan enters the arc a couple minutes after her, but he doesn’t advance toward me. Instead, he starts for a small group of art club students; he probably doesn’t want to approach me with Keegan nearby. I glance up at the clock and am reminded that there are three hours left of the dance. Plenty of time, I think to myself. I’ll get to him eventually.
A fast-paced song plays next, and Keegan drags me to the center of the dance floor. I glance back at Karmin as he does, and I see her mouth the words hips and hair.
Hips and hair. Hips and hair, I repeat to myself.
I finally understand what Karmin means after the second song ends, and that’s when I really start to let loose. Before I know it, my arms are moving, my hips are swaying, and my hair is everywhere that I want it to be. Because I’m so busy dancing and having a good time with Keegan, I don’t even realize that I haven’t spoken to Dylan until he’s pulling me behind the bleachers while Keegan gets some punch. The dance will be over in a half hour, and I’ve barely even looked in his direction. If Girlfriend 101 was a class, I’d be failing miserably.
“Forgot about me, huh?” It’s dark in the gym, but I can tell that his eyes are clouded with disappointment.
“No, not at all. I’m just trying to make sure that Keegan gets to know me. He won’t ask me out until he feels like he knows me well enough.”
“Spare me the details of your love affair. When are you going to spend some time with me? I feel like I haven’t really seen you in almost a week, and we live in the same house.” I can’t respond to his words; they’re too true for an excuse. “Looks like you’ve made your decision.”
He’s so concerned about me, it makes me wonder if his possessive instincts are a bigger problem. I flash back to the way he flipped out on Dad when he had taken his painting without asking first.
“No, Dylan. It’s all fake.” I know we’re at school, but I have to reassure him somehow, and I can’t think of another way than to pull him close to me. His lips are soft and familiar when they touch mine, and I find myself smiling as I get into it. “I want you,” I whisper between kisses. It seems to be enough, because I can sense him grinning as I continue to kiss him.
I feel his hand travel from my waist, up my back and neck, to touch my face. As his palm grazes my cheek, I notice that his hand is rougher than usual. “What is that? It’s so itchy.” I take his hand in mine, and squint to see what it is. It’s a bandage. “What happened?”
“I cut myself.” He must see my concerned expression change into a wide-eyed one. “No … not like that.” He laughs. “I’m not masochistic. I was trying to get the can of paint open to paint my body red, and the lid slipped and sliced my hand. It’s no biggie. It’ll heal in about a month.”
“It must be deep if you had to use gauze. Maybe you should see a—”
“Emma, I’m fine. I have this under control.” His voice is calm, but he grits his teeth like he’s hiding something. It isn’t until I see him smile that I finally decide to drop it.
“Okay.” I try to think back to when I saw him at the pep rally. Was his hand bandaged then? I was so worried about his feud with Keegan that I probably wouldn’t have even noticed it if it had been.
“Your boyfriend is looking for you. You should get back.” He pecks at my lips and then releases me back onto the dance floor.
He’s not my boyfriend. You are, I want to say, but he’s already walking away before I can get the words out. I try to push Dylan out of my mind so I can focus on securing Keegan as my faux boyfriend, but as I walk toward him, I find myself thinking about Dylan and his hand. Was it bandaged at the game or not? I can’t remember.
“Emma?” Keegan says when he meets me in the center. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie. “I just can’t believe I wasted four years hating this place, when I could have been doing things like this.”
“High school is not as bad as people make it seem.”
“Well, I know that now. I’m just trying to soak everything in so I can remember this night when I’m old and wrinkly.” A slow song begins to play, and Keegan pulls me close so that we can sway as we talk. He places his hands on my waist, and I wrap my hands around his neck and twirl his hair around my fingers, just like Karmin instructed me to do. “I’m in this beautiful dress, surrounded by my friends and teammates. It’s amazing.”
“You’re amazing,” he says as he pulls me in tighter. “So how are you doing in your honors civics class?”
I squint my eyes at him. “Very random question, but pretty well, I guess.”
“So you’re good at remembering dates and stuff?”
“I guess so, yeah.” I’m clueless to where this conversation is coming from, and why we’re having it right now in the middle of me trying to encode this moment into my memory. Maybe he needs help with his classwork or something, I think to myself. Oh no! What if this grand gesture is just to get me to tutor him?
“Good, because I don’t want to be the only one who remembers our anniversary next year.” I’m so focused on trying to figure out where he’s going with this talk about history class, that I almost miss him asking me out. “Or monthiversaries, if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“Wait, are you—”
“Asking you to be my girlfriend? Yeah, I am. You’re beautiful, funny, and smart. Any guy would be so lucky to have you.” These words sound familiar, and it takes me a moment to realize why. Dylan said something similar before he asked me out. Do all guys read from the same relationship handbook or something? “Emma?” Keegan says, bringing me out of my daydream. “So what do you say? Will you be my girlfriend?”
I know that this isn’t the first time that someone has asked me to be their girlfriend—Dylan did it not too long ago—but I can’t hide my delight from Keegan. “Is that even a question?” I reply, beaming like a star in the midnight sky.
chapter 14
Dear Catherine,
It’s like the second I became Keegan’s girlfriend, I started drowning in popularity. Before, when I would walk through the halls, no one even knew my name, and now everyone knows so much about me. People I’ve never seen a day in my life know who I am, what my car looks like, and where my classes are. It’s weird being on the other side of the fence, but I like it.
As little time as I was spending at home before, I’m there even less now. And I feel horrible about it. Not just because of Dylan, but because of the rest of my family, too. My mom and dad only have this year left with me before I embark on my own journey into adulthood. I’m not being fair to them. But with all of my AP classes, dance team practice, and spending time with Keegan, I can’t fit in much more.
Speaking of boyfriends, I have to ask something. Your situation, with marriage and all, is much more serious than mine, but I need to know: did you ever feel bad about abandoning Heathcliff? I
mean, I feel bad for ditching Dylan, but a part of me feels like it’s not my fault. I’m caught in the middle of two separate lives: Emma the sister and Emma the girlfriend. I can’t swap roles at his beck and call—especially when one of them is supposed to be secret.
And I can see the disappointment in Dylan’s eyes every time he looks at me while I’m clinging to Keegan’s arm. I’m chipping away at what we have, and sometimes I think that one day, I’m going to look up and his heart’s not going to be entangled in mine anymore. He’ll end things and move on, and my first love will be gone before I get a chance to really enjoy it. I haven’t been focusing on Wuthering Heights these days, but I’m sure this dilemma of yours gets resolved in the end. I just hope mine turns out the same way.
Emma
When I make it home early on a Thursday evening, I’m greeted with confused faces as I enter through the back door. My mom is cleaning up in the kitchen, and my dad, Dylan, and Matthew are on the living room floor playing a video game. It’s some racing game that Matthew got as a gift for his birthday, and judging by the smiles on their faces, they all seem to be enjoying themselves.
“Nice to know that you’re still alive,” my dad says when I sit down behind them. “I haven’t seen you since you brought Keegan over. I liked him at one point, but now I’m not too sure.”
“It’s not his fault, Dad. Practice has been running late,” I say as I raise my voice. Dylan has turned up the volume on the television, probably to drown out my excuse. “We’re getting ready for competition season, and we have to extend practices. We have to run, stretch, then work out, then learn a new part of our dance, and finally practice it. I know it seems selfish, but I have been working very hard on this.”
“I believe you,” Matthew butts in. “I’ve been so busy trying to learn how to add and subtract mixed fractions that I’ve barely left my room either.” Sometimes I forget that he’s a freaky genius kid. I only remember it when he brings up his schoolwork, which is hardly ever.
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