by Jillian Dodd
One. How good Cush looks.
And two. The fact that we are holding hands and making a very public entrance together. Like a couple.
Shit.
RiAnne’s mom greets us with air kisses. “Keatyn, your dress is stunning. So perfect for Monte Carlo. This whole party has gotten me in the mood to go there. Harold and I just booked a three-week trip.”
“Have you been there before?”
“No, we haven’t. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“It’s beautiful. Monaco and the coast of France are two of my favorite places in the world. You’ll have an amazing trip.”
Cush and I get away from RiAnne’s parents who, I am shocked to see, are greeting everyone, and walk through the room, nodding and saying hi. We stop to talk to a guy from the soccer team.
“Hey, Leo. What’s up? You ready for this weekend?” Cush asks him.
“You know it.”
“You know Keatyn, right?”
“We have Italian together,” I say.
“Italian? I thought you were in French? How many languages do you speak?” Cush asks.
“Well, I’m fluent in French, speak passable Italian and Spanish, and know just enough German to be dangerous. Leo’s family speaks Italian at home with his grandparents. The class is pretty easy for him.”
“So, what’s the deal with this party? Vanessa has never given me the time of day. I can’t figure out why I got invited.”
“The piranha is looking for fresh meat,” I tease. We all laugh. “Did they tell you the alcohol is in her bedroom? Just pretend to use the bathroom. We’re heading back there now. When we get back, go check it out.”
I lead Cush to her bedroom, where we run into RiAnne.
“Keatyn, your dress is amazing.” She looks down at hers. “I told Vanessa this was too princessey.”
“I think your dress is gorgeous, RiAnne. How’s the party going?”
“Fine. Vanessa is being a bitch, though. Isn’t she supposed to be mingling? I swear she’s ignoring everyone except for that quarterback. She’s been all over him. I think he’s scared of her.”
“You should go talk to him, Cush. He’s on your soccer team, isn’t he?”
“He’s JV, but yeah.”
“RiAnne says, “I’m headed back out there. Help yourselves.”
“Do you want something?” I ask Cush.
He takes a step closer to me. “Just you.”
“I meant do you want a drink?”
“Naw, I gotta drive you home, plus I need to stick to water. Coach wants us fully hydrated. We could have three games tomorrow.”
I think about how I always had to stay sober, so I could get Sander home. It’s really nice to have someone worry about getting you home. Not that I’m going to get drunk, but maybe I can let loose a little. Not be so strict with myself.
“Well in that case, I’m doing a couple shots.”
“If you get drunk, I might have to take advantage of you,” he says with a sly grin as he pulls me into his arms.
“Do I have to get drunk for that?” I tease back, like I would have before we kissed.
He looks at me for a beat and smiles widely. “Probably not. So I’ll go find Alex and try to rescue him from Vanessa’s evil clutches.”
“Just talk sports. Vanessa’s eyes will glaze over, and she’ll walk away.”
While I’m contemplating what kind of shot I want, Mandy and her friend, Alicia, wander in. “We heard there was booze in here,” they giggle.
“There is. I was just contemplating what kind of shot I want.”
“So, did you really dump Sander? Are you and Cush dating now? He is sooo hot. Hotter than Sander, I think. He seems more manly,” Mandy says.
“And did you see he’s, like, the only guy in a white jacket? You two look amazing together. Your dress is so pretty,” Alicia says sweetly.
“Thanks. And no, I didn’t dump Sander. I suggested we break up, but it was a mutual thing. We’re still friends.”
“That’s so cool. What about Cush?”
“Cush and I . . . ” I laugh and shake my head. I have no idea what Cush and I are. We’re good friends, who just shared a ridiculously steamy kiss. A kiss I should have gathered my wits about faster and pulled away from sooner. But I don’t want to say that. I mutter out, “He’s hot. That’s all that really matters, right?”
The girls nod at me and giggle, but I mentally cringe. I so did not mean to say that. For it to sound like I’m some shallow little bitch who is only here with him because he’s hot. I try to fix it. “I didn’t mean I’m only here with him because he’s hot. We’re friends.”
They both stare at me blankly, so I pour three shots of passion fruit rum. “Cheers,” I say.
“So why are we here tonight? I mean, we’ve been to some of Cush’s parties, but nothing like this,” Alicia says.
“Honestly, Vanessa is trying to decide who is worthy of sitting at our table next year.”
The girls’ eyes get big.
“Sit at the popular table. With the hottest guys. Um, sign us up,” Mandy says.
“You’re both cheerleaders. You’re already popular.”
“Not like you.”
I pour three more shots. “I’m not sure if I’m even going to be sitting there next year.”
“Are you moving?” Mandy asks.
I clink their glasses and toss back my shot.
And wonder why the hell I just said that.
The girls freshen up in RiAnne’s bathroom and I go back out to the party. I spot Vanessa walking away from Alex and Cush, rolling her eyes at them.
I think the sports talk must have worked.
She looks pretty in her red dress. With her dark hair, she always looks great in bright colors.
“Love your dress,” she sneers at me. “Very virginal.”
I am so done with her nasty comments, and I’m not putting up with them anymore.
“That’s enough, okay. I know what happened with you and Cush, and I know what happened with me and Cush. While I may look virginal, I can assure you that I’m not,” I lie.
I so lie.
Her face maintains its perfect shape, but I can tell she’s pissed at me. The corners of her eyes have widened, and she’s tapping her foot. She starts to open her mouth, which I know will spew more nastiness.
I’m not even going to let her get started.
“This party is kinda boring,” I whisper to her. Then I say much louder with my happy, breezy voice, “So Cush and I are heading out. We have another party to go to but wanted to at least make an appearance. Thanks for inviting us.”
Her mouth falls open in disbelief. I’ve never seen her look so surprised. She is an expert at always looking calm and collected no matter what feelings are roiling beneath the surface.
I walk away, leaving her standing alone with her mouth wide open.
“Let’s go,” I say to Cush, grabbing his hand.
I don’t know why I’m lying about another party. There is no other party. But I’m so pissed at Vanessa, I can barely see straight. Everyone will hear that we only came to this party out of obligation. Now we’re leaving to go have some real fun.
If Cush is surprised by what I just said, he doesn’t show it. He wraps his arm around me, pulls me into a kiss—um, well it’s more than a kiss. It’s sort of a mini make-out. The kind of kiss where everyone can totally tell that tongues are involved.
The kind of kiss that makes my knees feel weak.
And the kind of kiss I should pull away from and slap him across the face for. But I can’t. Since I just lied to Vanessa, I have to go along with it.
“Your wish is my command,” he says sweetly. Then he turns to Alex. “You and the rest of the soccer team should head out too. We’ve got to be on the bus at seven-thirty.”
Ohmigosh! He’s brilliant! Not only are we leaving, we’re taking Vanessa’s prized stallion and all the soccer guys out the door with us.
She’s going
to be beyond pissed at me, but when Cush flashes me his dimples, I decide I really don’t care.
We head out of the party, saying good night to people along the way.
“You’re leaving already?” Ellie says. I’m shocked Ellie got invited. We have math class together, and she’s always talking shit about Vanessa. She also loves to gossip.
“We have another party to go to,” I whisper to her in supposed confidence, totally knowing she will spread it like wildfire the second we’re out the door. “We wanted to at least make an appearance. You know how it is. See you at school.”
We stop to thank RiAnne’s parents for having us, and breeze out the front door.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” Cush says the second the massive iron doors shut behind us. “Why did we just do that?”
I give Cush big eyes. Eyes that say, I don’t want to talk about it right now. “See you later, Alex,” I say.
“Get some sleep, boys, and be ready to tear it up on the pitch tomorrow,” Cush says to the six other soccer players behind Alex.
Once we pull out of Vanessa’s neighborhood, I turn to Cush. “I can’t believe we just did that either. I wasn’t planning it, but then Vanessa said something to me.”
“What’d she say?”
“She said, I love your dress. Very virginal.”
“I take it that pissed you off?”
“Yeah, but I’m even more pissed at myself. I lied. Twice. Then I did something bitchy. I said something she would’ve said. I’m just as bad as she is.”
“What did you lie about?”
I hang my head. I can’t even look at him. “You,” I mutter.
“What did you say?”
“I’m sorry, really. It was like something inside me snapped. I said, That’s enough. I told her I knew what really happened between you two. Then I said, While I may look virginal, I can assure you that I’m not. I whispered to her that the party was boring. Then you heard the other part.
“I’m pretty sure everyone heard the other part. So what did you whisper to Ellie?”
“I lied again, because I was mad. I told her the same thing I told Vanessa. That we had another party we had to go to, but that we wanted to at least make an appearance. Everyone knows you save the best parties for last. Ellie is a big blabbermouth. She’s going to tell everyone that we’re going to a better party. A party Vanessa wasn’t invited to.”
Cush whistles. “Ohhhh, she is gonna be pissed at you.”
“No, she’s gonna be pissed at us, but I don’t care anymore. I really don’t.” Then I look at him. “I’m sorry I lied about you though. I shouldn’t have. It makes me just as bad as her. And I’m sorry I let you kiss me like that. I shouldn’t have, but I had just told her we had sex, so I couldn’t exactly stop you. My mom’s right. Once you start lying, it’s hard to stop. I suck.”
He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You’re not like her. You might have lied about what we did, but you aren’t using it against me. And I don’t care why you kissed me back; it was hot. So are we really going to another party? I am all dressed up, and it’s not even ten.”
“I lied about that too, but Mom and Tommy were going to a party tonight.” I grab my cell and call my mom.
“Hey, honey.”
“So, I’m all dressed up, have a hot date, and nowhere to go. Tell me you are at a fabulous party that we can crash.”
“We are. I’ll put your name in at the door and text you the address. We’re about ten houses farther down the beach.”
“Awesome.”
My phone vibrates. It’s Brooklyn.
B: Hey, change of plans. The guys and I decided to head out early.
Me: You left me?
B: Didn’t really think it was a big deal. You know us, we’re not big planners. We just sorta ended up here. I figured you could just drive down tomorrow or something.
Me: James won’t let me drive there by myself. There’s some stalker issues going on that I haven’t told you about. I’m not really allowed to go places all by myself.
B: Sucks. Oh well, maybe next time.
“Maybe next time?” I mutter. “What the hell? That’s all I get? Sucks?”
“What’s wrong?”
“That was Brooklyn. You know how we’re supposed to leave in the morning?”
“Yeah.”
“They left without me tonight.”
Cush starts laughing.
“Shut up.”
He puts his hand in front of his mouth. “I so called that. I told you he doesn’t treat you right.”
“I don’t really appreciate your gloating.”
He smiles at me. “Maybe not, but your night is about to get a whole lot funner, Miss Douglas.”
I squint my eyes at him. “That almost sounds like a threat.”
“Now you have no excuses. And trust me, I am going to kiss you again.”
We park on the street. I’m barely out of the car when Cush closes the door and pushes me hard against the side of it.
He snakes an arm around me and presses his lips into mine.
It’s a nice kiss. Cush kisses quite nicely.
No.
Nice is not the word for it.
Hot. Smoking hot. Sexy. Steamy.
Those are better words.
“Um, we should probably get to the party,” I tell him, pulling my lips away from him. I can’t keep letting him kiss me.
His lips leave mine, but he doesn’t stop. He blazes a trail of kisses down my neck instead. The scruff on the side of face is tickling my skin, and I breathe in the wonderful, musky smell that is Cush.
Am I really in love with Brooklyn?
I mean if he was my one truelove, isn’t he the only guy I’d ever want to kiss again?
If I’m kissing Cush, and liking it, what does it mean?
The only answer I can come up with is that I’m going to have a very large glass of wine and see if I can get my brain fuzzy enough to shut the hell up.
A doorman escorts us to a bar in the entryway, where I get a Chardonnay and Cush gets a water. There’s a band set up in a huge room overlooking the ocean. Mom and Tommy are not in this room, but I stop and introduce Cush to an aging film star that is actively looking for his fifth wife, an up-and-coming actress that played mom’s younger sister in her last romantic comedy, and a well-known director. Then I spot Millie and Deron. Well, mostly I spot Deron. He’s six feet and nine inches of pure black muscle, a Lakers forward, and the husband of Mom’s best friend, prime time soap opera star, Millie Santino.
“There they are,” I say to Cush.
“Is that Deron Wallace?”
“Yeah, he’s a beast on the court, but he’s really a big teddy bear. His wife, Millie, and my mom have been best friends for years.”
I take his hand and lead him back to where they are and introduce him to everyone.
“Keatyn, you look stunning. That dress is to die for,” Mille says, after kissing both my cheeks. “It’d be perfect for Cannes. Can I borrow it?”
“You’ll have to ask Mom. I think she’s supposed to wear it.”
“You thief,” Mom says playfully.
“It’s Kym’s fault.”
“Well, you make a very handsome couple. Where have you been, all dressed up?”
“Had a school party to go to. It was Monte Carlo themed, but it was kinda lame, so we left.”
While Cush is involved in an intense discussion with Tommy and Deron about the varying horsepower of exotic cars, I walk out onto the deck to get some fresh air and think.
I’m kinda upset that Brooklyn left me.
No, I’m really upset.
Because I realize I was completely wrong about everything. Brooklyn doesn’t like me. He doesn’t love me. I’m just a convenient hookup.
I’m absentmindedly swirling my wine around in my glass and staring out into the ocean when a man leans his arms onto the railing next to me.
“We seem to keep running into each other on the
beach,” Vincent says.
“Yeah.” I’m not in the mood to chat. Not even with Vincent. I take a very large sip of wine and hope he’ll take the hint and go away.
“You look amazing,” he says. “A little over-dressed for a beach party, but incredible. Prettiest girl here, if you ask me.”
I turn to look at him. He’s wearing a crisp aqua shirt, unbuttoned at the neck. Softly draped taupe slacks. Buttery leather loafers. Expensive gold watch. Everything about him screams money and privilege.
I take another big drink. Swallow.
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Nothing, really. Same shit, different day.”
“I know how that goes. Even though I’m excited about our movie, it’s still been a rough week. I miss her.”
“I’m glad I could help a little. It must be hard going through something like that by yourself.”
He nods. “Yeah, but I do have some good news. Our movie is a go.”
“Really? That’s exciting. So you got the financing?”
“Grandmother left me a pretty large estate. I met with her attorney today and got all the details. I don’t have to worry about the financing now. I can do it all myself.”
“Is that smart to do? What if it bombs and you lose all your money? You haven’t even seen me act yet.”
“I’ve seen you surf. I’ve seen your emotions. If you can be yourself on camera, we’ll both make more money than we’ve ever dreamed about. Why don’t we get started tonight? I’m dying to get you on film. I know it will inspire me even more.”
I don’t reply, just take another sip of wine.
He leans closer to me, causing our shoulders to touch.
I don’t want to make him mad by saying that I don’t know him well enough to go anywhere with him. Mom has warned me about stuff like that. About photographers who say they’re going to make you the next supermodel, they just need to “take a few photos” first. About producers, who promise to make you a big star, they just need you to “come read” for them first, but what they really want is to get you on the casting couch.
