Get Me

by Jillian Dodd

I want to scream at her to tell me she loves me. That there's nothing holding her back anymore.

  But I can't, because I stupidly promised to give her time.

  I can't give her any more time. I have to know now.

  She stands in front of me, taking my breath away.

  "You seem stressed," she says.

  "That's because I'm ready to fucking explode!" I yell at her. Shit. I didn't mean to yell. "I'm sorry. I just need you to tell me. Are you still in love with him? Do you just want him? Or me? Will you date us both? How's this going to work? Did you sleep with him? Wait. No, don't tell me."

  She was looking into my eyes, but now she looks down and kicks at the sand nervously.

  "Aiden, there's something I need to tell you. Do you remember what Logan told Maggie? About how it doesn't matter where you've been, but only where you end up? Brooklyn told me that. I didn't get it back then. But I do now. This whole mess. Almost being kidnapped. Going to Eastbrooke. Making new friends. Meeting you. Fighting for my family. It was all part of shaping me into who I've become. It's so weird. I'm back here on my beach. I'm home. Exactly where I wanted to be. But I'm not the same girl."

  She gives me a wide, dazzling smile. The same smile she gave me the first time I saw her. Cocky. Confident. That ha-ha-I-totally-just-scored-on-you-wearing-cowboy-boots smile.

  "Not everything has changed, though," she continues. "I still believe in fairy tales."

  It takes everything I have not to roll my eyes, because if she tells me Brooklyn is her prince, I'm seriously going to puke.

  She takes my hand and leads me closer to the ocean.

  Her hand is shaking and I can't tell if it's from nerves or excitement.

  "I should've told you this in St. Croix," she says, "but I didn't because I thought I might never see you again. And I wanted you to be able to move on without me."

  Is she trying to tell me that I should move on? That she's home with Brooklyn where she belongs?

  Doesn't she know that I'd never get over her?

  I look deep into her eyes, hoping mine convey the love I feel for her.

  She takes a deep breath, turns away from me, and looks up at the moon.

  I don't want to hear it yet.

  I can't hear it yet.

  "Dance with me," I say. "Before you tell me. Please?"

  I know I sound desperate, but maybe if we dance it will remind her of all those nights we danced under the twinkle lights in my room.

  And the night under the gazebo when a simple dance turned into something so incredibly hot.

  And then afterwards.

  The way our bodies fit together perfectly.

  I'd never felt more perfect in my life.

  I cling to her, taking in everything.

  The way her hands are laced together behind my neck.

  The smell of her hair.

  How her chest feels when it's pressed against mine.

  How we're so close that I can feel her heartbeat.

  Feel her chest rise with each breath she takes.

  How there's no music, but we're somehow swaying to the same song.

  When she lays her head on my shoulder, I feel cool tears trickle down my neck.

  I want to push her away from me and ask her why she's crying.

  But I don't want to know the answer.

  I'm so afraid of the answer.

  Maybe we can just stay here forever, dancing.

  But then her lips graze my neck.

  She kissed me.

  Hope floods through me.

  Please, let her say she loves me.

  She pulls out of my arms--well, arm, since I have this stupid sling-- ending our dance, and says, "Remember how I told you about my prom night? How it didn't go according to my script and I sat on the beach afterward?" She points down. "This is where I was sitting."

  "And Brooklyn was sitting here with you?" I snap.

  I don't mean to snap at her, but, fuck. Why the hell is she dragging this out?

  She turns around, looking surprised by my question. "Well, later he came out to talk to me. That was the night when he and I sorta got started. But, I meant before that. When I was sitting here alone. It was about two in the morning. I was sad and, it sounds crazy, but I was sort of talking to the moon. Telling it what I wanted. What I didn't tell you in St. Croix, Aiden, is that I made a wish on the moon, too."

  "What did you wish for?"

  "My perfect boy. And I thought he was staring at the moon at that very moment, wishing for me, too. I swear, I could almost feel you."

  "What are you saying?"

  "I'm saying we wished on the moon at the same time. If you had told me about your wish the night we first danced, I would've let myself fall in love with you right then because I so desperately wanted it. I would've loved you even if we weren't right for each other. When I made my wish, I didn't really understand what love was. What it should be. What it could be. I just knew I wanted it. It was like the green flash. I didn't know I hadn't felt it until I experienced the real thing."

  There are tears shimmering in her eyes.

  Mine too. Because I swear that night I felt her too.

  She smiles and takes my hand, causing my heart to soar.

  "Through all of it. Taunting Vincent. Taking over his company. Fighting him in the van. Trying to save him from getting shot at. Finding B. Throwing a bomb in the ocean. Getting my family back home. You motivated me. Because every time I closed my eyes and wondered if I could--if I would--survive, all I would see is you. You're my green flash, Aiden. Our moon wishes may have brought us together, but it's our hearts that led us home. To each other. I know with everything I am that you're it. My true love."

  "Really?" I say. "But, um, I thought you needed to see how things were with Brooklyn."

  She shakes her head as she puts her hands back around my neck. "Aiden, when you took my hand and led me to the Ferris wheel, I knew my hand belonged in yours forever. I just didn't think I'd get a forever. I didn't think I'd survive my kiln. But I did. And I want forever with you."

  We kiss.

  If this were the movie of our life, this would be our happy ending.

  Our fairy tale kiss under the moon that used to mock us both--but that may have actually brought us together.

  Like, if you believe in that sort of thing.

  Even after the kiss, part of me still doesn't believe I could be so lucky.

  "You aren't wearing your ring."

  She looks down at her hand. "Oh. I took my jewelry off when I showered after the whole bomb thing. Then there were police and reporters and family. It's been a blur since."

  "Your wish bracelet too?"

  "No, that got ripped off when I was fighting with Vincent."

  "What did you wish for?"

  "That I'd get my life back."

  "I'm glad you got your life back."

  "Me too, Aiden."

  "So does that mean you'll finally go out with me?"

  "I'd love to be your girlfriend, Aiden, but I'm not sure if I'll be going back to Eastbrooke. Matt told me earlier that with the script changes they've made expanding my and Knox's roles, we'll have a full filming schedule this spring. I haven't really had a chance to think it all through." She hesitates. "Or what it might mean for us."

  "What it might mean for us? Boots, we survived this. I think we can survive a few days apart. I'll come to the loft every weekend. You need to follow your dreams."

  "Wherever they take me?"

  "Wherever they take us," I reply, grabbing her and hugging her tighter than I ever have before.

  God, I love this girl.

  And she wants me.

  "I love you," I breathe into her hair.

  "I love you too," she says.

  And then she kisses me. It's a perfect, time-stood-still, fireworks kind of kiss. The kind of kiss that speaks to my soul.

  And always will.

  She leads me through the sand to her room, carefully locking the door before she star
ts undressing me.

  WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 11TH

  AIDEN

  I wake up to her kissing my neck. "Get up, sleepyhead. Time for surfing. You have to come watch."

  I look at the clock. It's six-thirty. "Sleepyhead?" I say, grabbing her waist and pulling her on top of me. "You didn't let me sleep last night."

  "I'm pretty sure the Titan proved to me just how much of a god he really is," she laughs. It's a beautiful laugh. One I want to hear every day for the rest of my life.

  I lie in bed, taking it all in. What it's like to be in her room. In her house. In her bed.

  She comes out of her closet dressed in a teeny bikini. One that makes me want to grab her and not let her out of this room for a few more hours.

  She tosses a pair of board shorts at me. "They're Tommy's," she says.

  I nod thankfully at her. I'd be okay with borrowing one of Brooklyn's boards, but I'll be damned if I'm wearing his shorts.

  Face facts.

  8am

  I'm taking a break from surfing, lying in the sand, and watching the boys play in the waves, when Cooper brings me a phone.

  "This was found inside the house down the beach. It was dead, so I charged it last night. We think it's Brooklyn's."

  I enter B's usual passcode, bringing the phone to life.

  I hold it up and yell, "Hey, B! They found your phone!"

  He rides a wave straight in, sticks his board in the sand, and sits down next to me while Cooper heads back into the house. I know he and Garrett have a meeting this morning.

  "It looks like you have a lot of missed calls and texts."

  As he reads through the texts, a lot of emotions cross his face. He shakes his head. "I don't know what I'm going to say to her."

  "You told me a little about her when we talked on the beach. I know you care about her."

  "She's pretty. Models swimwear for one of my sponsors. At first, she reminded me of you and we became fast friends. It sorta grew into more than that. We'd hang out together. Talk about life. Things had gotten kinda hot and heavy between us right before Thanksgiving. But then . . . you know . . . I said what I did."

  "That you loved me."

  He nods but stares out at the waves, his mind clearly elsewhere. "Yeah. When our call dropped, I looked out into the crowd and our eyes met. She looked so hurt. She shook her head at me, turned around, and walked away. I left my trophy onstage and ran after her. I told her all about you. How you encouraged me. I told her you were seeing other people, but that we promised to give each other another chance when I came home."

  "What'd she say?"

  "That she'd take me for as long as she could have me."

  "She sounds like Aiden," I say, looking out at the water, where he, Damian, and Mark are floating on boards and chatting.

  "I didn't tell her about the stalker. I couldn't. I tried to keep it casual. Right before I came back to Malibu, she asked me why I kiss my tattoo before I go out. I told her that you and I have matching tattoos. She left mad. That's the last time we spoke. Honestly, I don't even know why I kiss it. It's habit, you know?"

  "I know why you do it. That tattoo symbolizes living your dream. Because that's when it all started. Our trip. My birthday. Our tattoos."

  "You'll always be a piece of me," he says, leaning his shoulder against mine. "You were my first love."

  "You were my first love, too. I missed you so much."

  "I missed you too." He looks out at the water again and says, "I like Aiden."

  "I like Aiden, too."

  He shoves his shoulder into me. "I told you it was fate you went to school there. That there was someone you were going to meet."

  "I feel old, B. I must be out of surfing shape."

  "Or maybe it's because you were hit over the head, in a car accident, got shot, flew across the country to find me, and then just about blew yourself up."

  I laugh. "Well, at least that makes me feel better."

  "Her last text says we're through."

  "I'm gonna call her," I say.

  "Why?"

  "She's never going to believe your story. Oh baby, I lost my phone when I was kidnapped by a madman, held captive, and almost died in an explosion. But, thankfully, my Keats threw the bomb in the ocean and saved me."

  "Yeah," he laughs. "It does sound totally made it up."

  I take his phone.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Calling her. I'm serious."

  "What? No!"

  "Watch me."

  "What are you gonna say?"

  "I don't know."

  "You're not going to script it first?"

  "I'm done scripting my life, B. I'm just living it. What's her name?"

  "Jaida."

  She says, "Hello?"

  "Hey, I'm, um, this is Keats."

  "Ohmigawd. Do you know where Brooklyn is? First, I was pissed. Now, I'm just really worried. Is he okay?"

  "Where are you?"

  "Malibu. I thought he might be here. We had a fight. And then he was gone."

  "He was kidnapped."

  "What?" she says, sounding like she doesn't believe me.

  "Why don't we explain it to you in person?"

  "Is he with you?"

  "Yeah, and he's going to be okay. We're all going to be okay."

  Seven months later . . .

  SATURDAY, AUGUST 18TH

  The dress of your dreams.

  3pm

  "They're late," Kym says, checking her watch for the hundredth time. "Did the boys really need to golf today?"

  "Apparently," I say, knowing Damian, Tommy, Aiden, and Matt Moran will come home with seconds to spare, but happy to avoid the chaos of their dates getting ready.

  Peyton is getting her nails and hair done at the same time. She's escorting Damian on the red carpet tonight, and Aiden, as promised, will be my arm candy.

  Red carpet appearances are all timed so that each star arrives at a different time depending on their clout, role in the movie, etc. We'll walk the carpet, see the premiere of the movie Mom and Tommy filmed together in Vancouver, make our appearance at the after party and then go to my birthday party, which is being held at the same place as last year.

  Troy bought the club, known as The Side Door, a few months ago. He renamed it Chaos, upgraded the DJ facilities and dance floor, and--with his Twisted Dreams connections--has been bringing in some of the world's hottest DJs while he's out touring.

  I've had my premiere and party dress picked out for a month, so I'm flipping through a magazine while Kym divides her time between looking at her watch, reminding Peyton of red carpet etiquette, and making sure Mom and I will be ready on time.

  Damian strolls into the house and Kym immediately questions him. "Where are they?"

  "They stopped for a beer," he says with a shrug. "They said they have plenty of time."

  "If your father says all he has to do to get ready is shit, shower, and shave, I might just punch him in the face."

  After she's gotten Damian and Peyton ready and out to the car, she rolls another rack of dresses in.

  "Keatyn, I know you already have a dress picked out, but let's go through these and see if there's anything that can top it."

  "Okay," I say, even though I have no intention of changing what I'm wearing. I love my slinky gold gown.

  I flip though the dresses, going through the motions to make her happy.

  But then I come to a dress that looks familiar.

  "Oh my god. It's my dress."

  "Your dress?" Kym asks.

  "Yes, the dress from my dream."

  I examine the dress closer, shocked at how closely it matches the one from my dream.

  Sweetheart neckline. Corseted bodice. Tiered bottom in an ombre of pinks.

  I look at the label to see who designed it and find a note.

  I thought on the night of your dreams, you should wear the dress of your dreams.

  Hope this is close.

  Happy Birthday!


  Love,

  Aiden

  "How did he do it?" I ask Kym, quickly taking the dress off the hanger, holding it up to me, and twirling around.

  "He told me about your dream. I called in a favor and this is what we came up with. Is it close?"

  "It's like the dress of my dreams on steroids. This corset and these feathers. They're ridiculously beautiful. I can't believe he remembered."

  As I spin around, I get tears in my eyes remembering how he went to all my rehearsals. How I trusted him enough to tell him my dreams. About my scripts. About wanting to act.

  "Don't cry," Kym scolds. "We don't have time to redo your foundation."

  While I quickly change to a strapless bra and slip into the dress, Kym sets out diamonds.

  "This thirteen carat pink diamond is surrounded by cushion-cut diamonds, adding another eight carats. Price available on request," she reads off the card that arrived with them from Harry Winston. The diamonds have their own guard who will follow me tonight.

  "All right," Kym quizzes, "Diamonds by?"

  "Harry Winston," I reply.

  "Shoes?"

  "Louboutin."

  "Bag?"

  "Fendi."

  "Favorite stylist?"

  "Aiden," I reply, teasing her.

  "You say my name?" Aiden asks from behind me.

  He's dressed in a black Gucci tuxedo, a pair of Aviators perched on the top of his head. He looks like sex on a stick.

  Seriously, no one is going to look at me.

  Gracie and the girls are dressed up too. They're having their own pretend red carpet with their new nanny, Miss Praline, who, with a little time and some luck, may just end up Mrs. Garrett Smith.

  Aiden looks me over. "I don't know, Kym. I'm not sure those are the right shoes for the dress."

  Kym scoffs at him as he pulls a box out from behind his back.

  It's a box I recognize.

  My eyes fill with tears as he opens the lid.

  I delicately lift them up. "You had the heel fixed?!"

  "Yeah," he says, pulling me close. "Seems like the perfect night to wear the shoes that are the real you."

  He takes my hand, leads me over to a chair, then bends down and puts the shoe on my foot like he's Prince Charming.

  Actually, he is my Prince Charming.

  Yesterday, on my actual birthday, he spoiled me rotten, giving me a gorgeous, not-for-a-rainy-day dress and taking me to a beautiful restaurant overlooking the ocean for dinner. I was shocked to find our families and closest friends waiting there to surprise me. It was a truly celebratory night.