Текст книги "Kiss Me"
Автор книги: Jillian Dodd
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
Monday, September 5th
Should I feel cheap?
Early.
Get woken up by the sun gleaming through the sheer curtains at 6:42. We didn’t get much sleep last night. Turns out my body was one hundred percent right. Dawson did need to be our friend. And he was a very fun play date. He visited more than once. And my body and my brain were both waiting for him eagerly at the door every time, saying, Welcome back! Come on in!
Like the rugs when you walk in Wal-Mart.
And speaking of Wal-Mart, should I feel cheap?
Sleazy? Stupid?
I sort of want to blame Brooklyn for this. Last time he pissed me off, I turned around and slept with Cush. But I can only blame myself.
And Dawson’s hotness. I could not resist him.
I think back to the scripts I used to write. About a boy wanting me so badly. About him ravishing my body. Throwing me on the bed. Being just a little rough and in control.
Shit.
But I suppose that’s the thing about sleeping with someone; it feels right at the time, but there are always repercussions. Repercussions that my mind couldn’t seem to come up with last night.
Like, you never know what’s gonna happen after he leaves.
Will he ever want to visit my house again?
Will he be a jerk and make me want to slam the door in his face?
Is he going to keep visiting other girls’ houses?
Will he tell all his friends about his visit?
Will my house get a bad reputation?
When we get back to school, will he start walking a block over so he can avoid my house?
We did use protection, so I shouldn’t have to worry about things like STDs and pregnancy, but what repercussions will it have on our very young relationship? Do we even have a relationship? And, if we do, what is it now? Did this change things?
Will we be closer? Will it make things awkward? Will he want me again? Did he lose all respect for me?
Shit. I really have no idea.
And I’m even more worried because he isn’t in bed with me. Did he creep out early this morning just to get away from me? Do the walk of shame out to his living room?
I get up, pee, brush my teeth, and brush through my hair. Maybe he went out surfing, and I should go join him. But then I realize that I probably, definitely screwed up by sleeping with him. Because if he wanted me out surfing, he would’ve woken me up and asked me to go with him like yesterday.
This thought depresses me, so I throw myself across the bed.
Why, oh why, did I sleep with him? And so soon?
Note to self: do not sleep with another boy until you are seriously in love.
What was I thinking?
I need to talk to someone about this. Someone who’s an expert on hookups. I know it’s the middle of the night, like three am, in Vancouver, but I text Tommy anyway.
Me: Since you say you’re a guy, and that makes you an expert on them, AND you were a player—what’s too soon to sleep with a guy you really like, and you think he really likes you too, but you don’t know for sure because you’ve only known him for like a week, but it feels like so much longer?
Me: And if you did to decide to sleep with him, because he is so incredibly sexy and made you feel like there was molten lava running through your body, but then you wake up the next morning and he’s not in bed with you, what does that mean?
Me: Especially when it’s his house?
Me: I’m asking for a friend.
Me: Please, please, be awake.......
Me: Or wake up...............
Me: Okay, I’m asking for me. Please wake up!
Me: I’m freaking out here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tom: Molten lava, huh? That’s pretty damn hot. To answer your first question, I prefer a girl to turn me down at least once. Twice is good. Three times is not a charm. If she turned me down three times, she was out.
Me: And after she didn’t turn you down, how did you treat her? Did sex change things?
Tom: Yeah, it made it hotter.
Tom: This is your mother. He should NOT have said that. PLEASE tell me you didn’t sleep with Gorgeous.
Me: I didn’t sleep with Gorgeous.
Tom: Don’t lie to me!
Me: You just told me to lie to you?
Tom: Stole my phone back. Was he sweet to you, before, during, after?
Me: I don’t want to freak Mom out, but I’m SO glad I can talk to you about this stuff :) And idk about sweet, it was very intense, very hot, before and during, but like in between, yeah, he was. He’s REALLY sweet. WHAT DOES THAT MEAN???
Tom: Think positive. Maybe he just went to get some coffee. Chill, baby, it will be okay. And if it’s not, I’ll come kick some ass.
Me: If you are going to start kicking asses, you should start with B’s.
Tom: Why?
Shit. I almost just blew it. They don’t know about me seeing him. I don’t want them to know how stupid I was.
Me: He’s kinda been a jerk lately.
Tom: Is that why you slept with Gorgeous? What’s his actual name anyway?
Me: Dawson.
Tom: I doubt he left you alone in his house. Go find him. Don’t make it awkward.
Just as I read the text, Dawson pushes through the door carrying a tray of food. I could die from relief. I text Tommy back quick.
Me: OMG!!! You were actually RIGHT!!! He brought me breakfast!!!!! :)))))) He’s SOOOO CUTE!!
Dawson grins at me. “You’re awake.”
“Barely.”
“I, um,” he acts a bit embarrassed. “I got us some breakfast. Figured we could surf a little later if you want to.”
“Are you feeling awkward?”
“No. I mean, a little awkward maybe, but that’s because I don’t know what you’re thinking. Like, if you regret it.” He sits next to me on the bed. “I really hope you don’t regret it. Or hate me.”
“Why would I hate you?”
“Because maybe you felt like I made you, or talked you into it, or you thought I sucked at it, or you didn’t like it, or you wished we would’ve waited. I mean, I would’ve waited. I planned on waiting. But I’m glad, really glad, we didn't wait.”
“You talk a lot when you’re nervous. It’s cute.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“You didn’t ask me a question.”
“Did you just get caught up in the moment? Do you regret it?”
“Honestly?”
“Uh, I think so. Yes. I want to know honestly what you’re thinking. We’ve been honest with each other about our feelings so far. Part of why I like you so much. I want that to continue.”
He likes me so much?!
“Hmmm, well, I could see you wondering if I got caught up in the moment the first time but, you know, after the, uh, fourth time, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t just a moment. It was amazing, really. I just hope I don’t regret it.”
“What would make you regret it?”
“If it messes things up for us. If it makes you think poorly of me.”
He lets out a big sigh, grins big, grabs me, and kisses me. “Keatie, last night was awesome. I don’t think I’ve ever woken up feeling so happy.”
“I admit, I had a little freak out when I woke up and you weren’t here. I even texted my stepdad to ask him about it.”
He gets a slightly shocked look on his face when I mention the D word.
“Oh, it’s cool. He’s cool. I can talk about that stuff with him and my mom. Not, like details but, you know, in general terms.”
He gets a sneaky look, dives across me, grabs my phone off the nightstand, and reads what I wrote.
“I’m Gorgeous, huh?”
“Yeah, that’s what I called you before I knew your name. I sorta stalked you a bit.”
I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth.
“You can stalk me any time.” He kisses me.
“Oh, I’ll be like that Audrey girl. I’ll bake you cookies and carry your books to class. I’m just teasing, I don’t, like, expect anything.”
“Well, I expect something.”
“More sex?”
“No—well, that’d be nice, but what I meant is I don’t want this to change anything. I like how we’ve become friends, how we talk. I like you. A lot. Do you think we should be going out now?”
“Because we had sex? No.”
“What if I told you I was thinking about asking you before we had sex?”
“I think we should wait. I think we’re both kind of on the rebound. Let’s see how things go. We don’t have to label our relationship.” Ohmigawd, did those words really just come out of my mouth too? “Um, are you going to tell all your friends about this?”
“I don’t kiss and tell. You hungry?”
“I’m starved.”
Riley and I are out in the ocean, floating over waves on some boogie boards.
He gives me a smirk. “You and Dawson totally did it.”
“What? Why would you think that? Riley, don't tell people you think that, okay? If you tell people you think we did, then people will assume we did, even if we didn't.”
“He came in my room in the middle of the night to steal condoms. I happen to know he always has two in his wallet. I’m thinking it was a really good night.”
“Maybe he needed the condoms for something else.”
“Like?”
“Uh . . .” Shit, I can’t think of anything. “He was making me balloon animals out of the balloons we used for the water balloon fight. Ran out. Used condoms.”
“Uh, no. You really like him? I thought you were all into Aiden.”
“I crushed on Aiden, yes. He's very cute, but he thinks he’s so cool, and, I don’t know, maybe he’s used to girls falling all over themselves to be with him. He asked me Thursday night to hang out on Friday.”
“What's wrong with that?”
“If you like a girl, Riles, you don't wait until Thursday to ask her out. So, I told him I was busy and to ask sooner next time.”
“I don’t know what it is about you, but I still have this strange need to protect you. Even though he's my bro, I'd probably kick his ass if he was mean to you.”
“You're brother is so sweet. He’s amazing.”
“Amazing in bed? That runs in the family, you know.”
After lunch, we hang by the pool, relaxing, tanning, swimming.
I’m in the water, up against the edge of the pool. Dawson has me barricaded into the corner with his arms on both sides of me.
Not that I mind.
He’s giving me more molten lava kisses.
“So did you tell my brother?” he whispers.
“No, he guessed. Says you stole his condoms.”
“Oh, yeah, well . . . you know. We needed them.”
“I don’t think he will tell.”
“Yeah, he will. He loves talking about that shit. About what he's done. What he thinks I’ve done.”
“He won't tell.”
“I'm just saying if it gets around school, don't blame me.”
“Okay.”
He kisses my nose. “You’re so cute. I just love you.”
Did he just say, I love you?
“Oh. Uh . . .” he mutters.
“It’s okay. I know what you meant. You love me like you love swimming or ice cream.”
“Um . . .”
“Look, this all happened crazy fast. We talked about taking things slow before and just because we went fast, sexually, doesn't mean we should rush a relationship. I still want to take that part slow. I mean, you might get back to school, see Whitney, and decide you still love her.”
His eyes get soft. “Keatie, I’m not gonna do that. I told you the other night, before all this, I don’t love her anymore.”
“Still, you loved her. And I’m not sure you’re over her.”
“Actually, I’m very over her, and I kinda have a thing for this really hot new girl. She’s on the dance team. You might know her.”
“Oh, really?”
His eyes sparkle. He is so freaking adorable. Seriously, how did I get so lucky? Dawson is the perfect adorable distraction.
“And this thing you have for her, that just means you want her, right?”
“No.” He stops, considers that for a second, says, “Well, yeah, I do, but it’s more than that.” He laughs, kisses my neck, and whispers in my ear, “But you know, if she wants me now, we do have a little free time before we have to leave.”
I quickly drag him out of the pool, back to the bedroom, and spend that time wisely.
Cute little daisy charm.
4pm
Dallas and Ace yell, “Hey everyone, the limo’s here!”
Everyone is hooting and hollering over the limo. This limo is sweet. A brand new Range Rover HSE with a jet door. Inside it has all sorts of toys, wild, neon-colored interior, a couple flat screens, sound system, fog machine, and disco lights. Of course, as you can imagine, the thing the boys went most crazy over was the Xbox 360.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Riley says.
We all get loaded up, play with the toys, get high, and then most everyone crashes. I’m leaning up against Dallas’ shoulder. Dawson’s asleep, his head lying in my lap.
Dallas says randomly, “You have very weird toes.”
“Shut up. I have cute toes.”
“This weekend was really fun, huh? I’ve never been to a party that lasted all weekend like that. And it was cool: like, the perfect mix of partying, chilling, girls, sunning, and stuff.”
“I agree. This weekend was fun.”
“I suspect you had a little more fun than me,” he grins mischievously.
“You made out with a different girl each night.”
“Yeah, but I didn't have sex.”
“Me neither.”
“Kiki, we don't lie to each other remember?”
“Damn, you must be physic about more than just panties.”
“Dawson is crazy about you.”
“Naw.”
“Uh, yeah. He is. He’s been on freaking cloud nine since you got here. Even before y’all had fun. Riley is actually worried you might hurt him. He thinks you like the Hottie God or whatever you call him.”
“The God of all Hotties.”
“That’s it. Hey, remember how we were talking about redoing Dawson’s image? Did you notice how tight he and Riley were this weekend?”
“I know. And I don’t even care about his image anymore, but I like seeing him happy. He was really sad that night.”
“And someone has cheered him up. Amazing how some orange panties can do that.”
“Oh my gosh! Have you been creeping through my clothes?”
“Nope. I’m just that good. Plus, I could see them when you bent over to pick up your duffle bag. Cute little daisy charm on the back.”
“Shut up. I’m afraid that when Whitney sees him happy, she’ll want him back. I’m not sure I’d stand a chance. We should be worrying about me getting hurt, not him.”
“Ah, Kiki, you know Dallas is always here for you.” Then he says, “Speaking of that. You, me, and Riley tonight at the cave.”
Tuesday, September 6th
Stalking me.
6:27am
I have seven missed calls from Dallas and a couple texts from him and Riley.
Basically the texts are versions of: Where are you? Did you fall asleep? Wake up!!
But the best text of all was from Dawson this morning.
Dawson: Miss waking up with you. Will be stalking you :)
I should be horrified by this text. I mean, stalking me! But, I’m not. It seems like a strange twist of fate that I’m happy about being stalked.
I get ready quickly, but carefully. I want Dawson to think I look amazing today.
I flip open my look book to see today’s look.
It’s not really how I’m feeling, looks very cute, but more preppy. So I flip through the book and try to find the sexiest version.
Look eighteen is what I want. The navy, black, and red plaid skort; red lace bra—and if it happens to show a little under my skinny ribbed black tank, oh, well; short red cardigan, with only the middle button buttoned; black leather sliced cuff; and vintage black and gold Channel earrings. Kym showed it with a pair of cute flats, but I decide to go full out sexy and wear the black platform Gucci boots I brought from home.
My hair is full of big curls and my bangs are held back in a poof with a silver barrette. My makeup is soft and natural, except for a black eyeliner swoop and as much mascara as my lashes can hold.
I look like the schoolgirl version of Barbarella.
(In case you’ve never seen Barbarella, it’s an old movie starring Jane Fonda. When it came out in the seventies, it was very risqué. There were no explicit sex scenes, but the whole thing’s all about sex. Like there is one part where this evil dude locks her in this room that plays organ music and makes her feel, um, extreme pleasure. Anyway, I watched part of it until Tommy told me I had to go to bed. I think he was just turned on by Jane and wanted Mom to himself. Anyway, she has big hair and wears tall platform boots in the movie.)
Katie left earlier to get breakfast. I’m hoping to have time to grab at least some coffee before I head to class. I walk out and there, sitting on the brick wall, is Dawson, waiting for me.
I have to say, I love the way the boys here dress. No baggy jeans, no underwear showing. There’s something so sexy about a boy who’s dressed up. Dawson has on his required khaki cargo shorts, a pink and white striped oxford, a pink tie that I'm pretty sure has little blue elephants all over it, the navy school blazer, and Sperrys on his feet.
He looks so hot sitting there I almost want to whistle.
And then I can barely breathe as my mind flashes to his muscular body, naked, on top of me.
Whooh. Sorry.
He sees me, does let out a whistle, and looks me up and down. “Damn, Keatie, you look like some kind of S&M schoolgirl fantasy.
I smile. “So, you’re stalking me?"
“You know I am." He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me in for a kiss. As I lean forward, a bit of red lace peeks out. He stops midway, pushes me back out a little, and looks down. “Red lace. Are you trying to drive me nuts? Speaking of that, I still haven't seen the leopard one yet."
"I think you saw plenty this weekend."
"Yeah, but mostly bikinis. I want to see this bra up close and personal after practice.”
"I don't know. I might have lots of homework,” I tease.
"I'll tutor you, but I want you wearing nothing but that bra. Red panties too?"
“Probably.”
He pulls me in for a sexy kiss.
“Did I see you brought me coffee?”
"Oh, uh yeah, you distracted me. Here. Skinny soy chai latte, no whip, right?"
"How'd you know that?"
"I described you to the coffee shop dude. He told me."
"Thanks. You're very resourceful."
"I'm very horny, actually."
“Down, boy. We have to go to class. And I have to hurry; your brother needs to copy my worksheet."
They’re Gucci.
Lunch
I’m in line to get a salad and I’m watching Whitney. She gives Dawson a little smirk, wraps her arms around Jake’s neck, and gives him a perfunctory kiss on the cheek.
The salad bar is close enough for me to hear their conversation.
Dawson says to Jake and Whitney, "So, did you guys have a good weekend together?"
Jake replies, "Naw, she had to do some family thing."
Whitney proudly proclaims, “The family thing was an amazing weekend at our new home in Palm Beach.”
Dawson ignores her. "Oh, that's too bad. Jake, you should have come up to the Hamptons. We partied, chilled."
Whitney counters with, “The Hamptons are so overrated. Palm Beach is really—”
Ace interrupts her and says to Jake, "And Keatyn taught me to surf. I actually stood up and rode all the way in for the first time ever!"
I see Whitney’s eye get big when she hears I was there. She is already pissed enough that everyone is ignoring her.
Of course, they can’t tell. She looks perfect.
Tyrese says, "Yeah, she's a really good surfer. And looks damn fine in a bikini, dawg." He bumps fists Dawson.
Dawson notices me moving toward the table. "Speaking of damn fine." He stands up, grabs my tray and backpack, and helps me get settled into the seat next to him.
Riley and Dallas walk by, wave, and go sit with some other friends. I glance at Whitney and know that I just moved to the top of her hit list. The telltale crinkle is deepening.
Tyrese says to me, "I'm really digging those boots."
"Thanks, Tyrese. You had a pretty good weekend yourself. Girls surrounding you on the beach, begging for your body."
He puffs his chest out a little and sits up straighter. “Yeah, baby, Tyrese sealed the deal a couple nights, out there in the sand with Dawson's cousin."
Dawson’s eyes get big. Then he's like, "Dude, all my cousins are guys."
“Oh, damn. I'm just playing. It was some girl that was staying up the beach. I don't even remember her name."
"It was Laney,” I say, rolling my eyes.
He snaps. “That’s it. And what about you, Little Miss Kiki? You and Dawes had some fun yourselves."
I know he's trying to bring up my sex life, but I won't comment on that. "We did. The house was gorgeous, the waves were great, and the Kool-Aid was potent."
"Aw, yeah,” Ace says. “The get-drunk-and-screw punch. Heard it worked on you."
I know Dawson didn’t tell. I'm pretty sure he's baiting me. Fishing. Interviewers always try and do that to my mom. Act like they know something they don't. Trying to get her to confirm if the fact that she wore a lose fitting top one day means she's pregnant again.
"You're right, Ace. I did get a little drunk one night."
Tyrese says, "And then snuck off to the bedroom with Dawesy here."
Dawson, who has been pretty quiet through all this, says, "That's enough."
And Tyrese surprisingly complies.
Not only has he been walking me to all my classes, he just stood up for me to his friend. I think I'm in love.
Okay, probably not love. More like very serious lust.
Whitney says, “Remember all the fun times we had in your room at the beach house, Dawes?”
Jake looks at her, like What the hell, and so does Dawson. It was a totally inappropriate comment.
I give Dawson’s hand a little squeeze and say to Whitney, “Someone else was in Dawson’s room this weekend. We stayed in the master bedroom.”
Whitney glares at me, not even trying to hide her hatred.
But I don’t care because Dawson gives me the sexiest grin. I can tell he is remembering exactly what happened in the bedroom. He says, “Let's go eat outside, Keatie."
Whitney blinks her eyes hard when she hears him call me Keatie.
As we walk away, I hear Whitney comment to the table, “Those boots are slutty.”
I know she’s the Queen. I know I shouldn’t do this, but I’m not letting her get away with slamming me. She knows I heard. She thinks I don’t have the balls to turn around and call her on it.
But guess what? I do.
But I’m not going to turn it into a fight. I’m going to pretend it wasn’t a slam. I’m going to kill her with kindness.
I turn around, smile big, and point down at my boots. “Oh, Whitney, honey, we really need to work on your designers. These boots aren’t Slutty, they’re Gucci.”
Her face turns a bright shade of pink and even Peyton snickers.
Been drinking the Kool-Aid?
French
I go to French class with bolstered confidence. I’m going to have no problem tutoring Aiden, and I’m going to have no problem resisting him.
He will soon be learning that I’m now immune to his powers.
Or not.
I walk into class, and he’s already in his seat. He gives me that blinding smile and, I swear to God, he just spoke to my soul.
Damn him!
Tonight I’m doing an internet search on how to protect yourself from a demigod.
He’s surprisingly happy to see me.
“So, how was your weekend with your Keats boy?”
I’m thinking he already knows the answer to this question but wants to make me suffer. Suffer for loving another boy. But if he knows about Brooklyn, wouldn’t he also know about Dawson? Maybe he doesn’t know.
“My weekend was fun, but I spent very little of it with him.”
Annie says, “Really? What happened?”
But class gets started, and we aren’t allowed to talk.
I try to focus on Dawson, how sweet and sexy he is, while trying to forget the way Aiden makes me feel just by sitting next to me.
Toward the end of class, we’re allowed to converse with each other in French. So I turn to Annie and Aiden and ramble on about what happened this weekend.
They both look at me blankly.
Annie goes, “Something about stupid?”
Aiden adds, “I got something about boy. Was he a stupid boy?”
“Yeah, basically, that’s the gist of it. I only saw him briefly, then went up to Dawson’s house in the Hamptons. He and Riley had a bunch of people there. It was a lot fun.”
“You shouldn’t be hanging out with Dawson. He’s a jerk.”
Annie says, “Who cares what he is. He’s way hot.”
I turn around to face Aiden. “Why do you think that? No one else thinks that.”
“You thought that. Just last week. Or do you not remember how he was pawing your shirt? Or how he gave you the awful unwanted kiss that ruined your lips? You been drinking the Kool-Aid?”
“You know about the Kool-Aid?”
“Everyone knows about the Kool-Aid.”
“Oh, you mean drinking the Kool-Aid, not the actual Kool-Aid.” I laugh.
“Why’s that funny?”
“Because Dawson and Riley make an alcohol-laden Kool-Aid when they’re at the beach. Their get-drunk-and-screw Punch.”
“You drink that Kool-Aid too?”
“Well, sure. Everyone did.”
“And here I thought you weren’t like everyone else.”
He doesn’t say a word to me, French, or otherwise, for the rest of class.
That, or he wants in your pants.
Before dance
“So, you got drunk and had sex with Dawson, huh?” Whitney sneers at me.
It’s always amazing how a girl can go from gorgeous to ugly with a simple mean sentence. She looks so ugly to me now.
I don’t want to be mean back, but I have to stand up for myself. I don’t want to be friends with her, but I really don’t want to be her enemy either. I just want her to leave me alone. So I keep my mouth shut.
But then she adds, “You’re such a slut.”
And I can’t help it.
I know Dawson told me this in confidence, and he would be disappointed to hear me say this, but I do.
“I don’t need to be drunk to want to sleep with Dawson. He’s extremely sexy. But no, the night I got a little drunk, I didn’t have sex with him. Not that it’s any of your business. And, oh, you and Jake are adorable. I’m so happy for you. And for him to ask you out so quickly, he must really like you a lot.”
That, or he wants in your pants.
But I don’t say that.
I’m above that.
Well, not really.
But I’m trying to be.
Definitely screwed.
9:50pm
I’m on my laptop looking up gods and demigods when I get an email from Garrett. He tells me that he would prefer if I didn’t tell anyone from home about my loft and gives me the name of a designer friend of his. He tells me the guy is up-and-coming. Which is a total understatement. The guy is well known for his ability to mix multiple styles for a very comfortable, lived-in look. He will be the perfect guy to decorate the loft. I actually let out a little squeal.
I quickly email the designer. Introduce myself and send him a link to photos of the loft.
He emails me back quickly, congratulating me on choosing a place with such incredible bones. He is going to get with the realtor, see the space, take some measurements, and get back to me in a few days with a plan.
I get back to my research. I figure it’s important for me to determine what exactly Aiden is if I’m going to be able to avoid his spells, or cosmic force, or whatever power it is that he has.
Then I wonder if maybe we were connected somehow in a past life, and that’s why his pull on me is so strong. But my feelings for him lately have been more on the hatred side of the spectrum. Because I hate that he does this to me.
He smiles at me.
Why does he have to smile at me?
Why does he have to be all, How was your weekend?
Ugghh!
So, just to set the record straight. I very much believe in God. In one God. The gods I am referring to here are of the Greek (or Roman?) type god world. I have never really determined how they fit into real religion because they don’t, really. I think they are more of a thing we study as history.
But now I’m thinking that maybe they represent temptation.
Whatever.
Just go with me on this.
So technically a demigod is a half god. To become a demigod you typically have one human parent and one godparent. I haven’t met his parents, so I can’t be sure of this. His sister is certainly blessed with many talents and good looks, but she doesn’t seem to have his magnetic pull.
I Google search: How to protect yourself from a demigod.
The first article it pulls up is how to protect yourself on Facebook.
Not what I was looking for, but I peruse this article for a minute.
And just what I thought. There is nothing in there about not allowing friends to tag you in potentially damaging photos that will cause all sorts of shit with girls like Whitney. Worthless article.
Then I find an article on ways to protect yourself if you are a demigod. The person who wrote this article apparently is one (or thinks he is) and says that he and most demigods are not popular, and that this is so they can hide from the monsters, centaurs, and things that try to hunt them.
Obviously, this person needs to get a life.
He does, however, raise an interesting point: most gods are given a weapon by their parent.
But I already know that they gave Aiden his mouth. That smile. Those perfect teeth. That silky smooth voice. Those soft, amazing, and capable-of-producing-nuclear-energy lips.
Sigh.
Okay, so then I come upon this: Take this quiz to find out which of the gods is your parent.
Obviously, I have to answer the questions for him. It could be he doesn’t even know he is a demigod yet, and is just testing his newfound powers out on me.
God help me if he ever discovers their true potential.
So, questions.
And then, the decision. Drum roll, please. Dun, dun, dun, dahhhh.
Your mother is the gorgeous Aphrodite. She is the goddess of love and, more importantly, seduction. People can’t help but to fall in love with you. You are probably very good looking. You are also very good at seducing the opposite sex with your god-like charm. But use this trait wisely. Heartbreak is the most painful of wounds. But you don’t really care because you are the one breaking hearts.
See! See what I’m up against here?
So then I search: How to resist a demigod.
Get no answers.
How to resist a god.
No real answers. And I’m pretty sure Google just laughed at me.
How to resist Aphrodite.
Maybe if I know how to resist her, I can use that on her son.
So here’s the scoop on Aphrodite. Apparently when she wore her golden Spanx, no god or mortal could resist her. And, even when she didn’t wear them, there were only three gods that could resist her and they were all apparently virgins.
There goes what little hope I had.
Also, I just read the story of Aphrodite, and she was one mean, lying, slutty bitch. So she gets herself all gorgeous, then meets this guy. He, of course, thinking she’s too hot to be mortal, asks if she’s a god. She lies to this guy, tells him that she’s just a maiden, talks him into taking her back to his place, seduces him, purposely gets pregnant, then tells him she’s a god, that she’s going to name their son something that translates to awful, and proceeds to tell him he’s beneath her, even though he is hot and nice. Later she has something to do with the Trojan war that causes a bunch of people to die, and then she has an affair with some god named Ares, but they get caught and were going to be punished, but she maybe got out of it by promising to sleep with Hermes.
