Текст книги "Date Me"
Автор книги: Jillian Dodd
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
Me: I’m jealous.
Dawson: I’ll probably be texting you the whole time. I love you.
Me: I heart you.
Where’s the harem?
1am
It seems like I just shut my eyes and all of a sudden Katie’s phone alarm is going off.
She pops out of bed, pulls her jeans on, and practically dives out the window. “I’ll see you at the Cave, okay?”
“Sure,” I say. I peek at my clock, see it’s a few minutes to one, and try to figure out what I want to wear. Dawson won’t be here to keep me warm, so I throw on a long-sleeved Free People thermal shirt and some Rag & Bone jean shorts. I look at the Golden Goose boots that Cush gave me. They’d be perfect with this outfit.
I haven’t worn them since he told me his mom bought them. I’ve been sort of mad at them.
I pick the boots up and run my hand across the leather.
It’s not their fault that Cush lied. It really doesn’t matter how they became mine, what matters is what I thought. That these boots are everything I want to be.
I put the boots down on the floor and slide my feet into them.
Perfect.
My hear a little knock on my window and know it’s Aiden.
I climb out the window, laughing at how easily I glide out now. How different my life is now than when school started.
My boots should hit the ground about now, but instead I find myself sliding down Aiden’s body as he catches me.
“What are you doing?” I say madly. I don’t want to be in his stupid arms.
“Just catching you,” he says sweetly.
It’s really hard to be mad at someone that looks the way he does. Tonight, with the moonlight shining down on him, he almost looks angelic.
Asshole.
I try to push out of his arms, but he holds me tightly. “You can let go now,” I say.
He drops me to the ground and looks down at my feet. “You’re wearing boots.”
“I wear boots all the time.”
“Not those boots. You haven’t worn those since the day we met.”
How does he even know that?
I roll my eyes. “I’ve been sort of mad at them.”
He tilts his head to the side and squints his eyes at me. “Mad at your boots? You can’t be mad at those boots.”
“I’m not anymore. We made up.”
“Well, that’s good to hear. Let’s get French done so we can go party.”
His hand curves across the small of my back.
Electricity shoots straight up my spine, causing me to arch my back and jump away from him.
“You’re awfully jumpy tonight.”
“Stop touching me then,” I state a little too emphatically.
He stops touching me and leads me to the chapel, which is apparently open all night. I think I knew that, but had forgotten it.
We study in a very business-like fashion. Our test on Monday has a speaking portion, so mostly we work on his word enunciation.
“I think I’ve got it. I’ll keep working on it this weekend, but at least I know the proper way to say everything now.” He looks at his phone, which is loaded with texts. From girls. And Logan and Nick. And girls. “I better get going.”
“Um, okay. Yeah, me too,” I say, glancing at my phone like there’s something important in it. All my friends begging for me to get there. Unfortunately, there are no texts from anyone.
My friends suck.
When we get to the clearing known as The Cave, Aiden says, “Thanks for helping me. Have a good night.”
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 telling 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 Cam 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.
Riley: Cam might be a jerk, but he’s not a liar.
Me: It’s his brother.
Riley: Yeah, but you have to understand him. If Dawson got drunk and hooked up, Cam would be proud of him. He might have lied to you, but he wouldn’t have lied to me. He had no reason to. He doesn’t know how close we are.
Me: Just so you know, I love you. I don’t care what happens with your brother, I’ll always love you. And Dallas. Speaking of Dallas. Katie told me she attacked him last night!
Riley: I love you too :) and he fended her off. Barely. LOL. Do you think it’s weird or cool that he’s still a virgin?
Me: It’s kinda cool, really. That he has done a lot but wanted to wait to do it with someone special. Was your first time with someone special?
Riley: Ha. No. Hamptons. Summer before 8th grade. I was drunk. She was horny and, thankfully, much older than me. Our parents were out of town. Cam threw a big party. All I really remember is her long dark hair kept getting in my mouth. And I felt like I was going to puke.
Me: That’s pretty young.
Riley: Yeah, probably. That and my getting kicked out freshman year are part of why they’ve tried to shelter Braxton a little more. Why they won’t let him come to the beach when they aren’t there. He’s trying to talk them into letting him be with us all next summer.
Me: I can’t wait to meet him Homecoming weekend.
Riley: He can’t wait to come here Homecoming weekend. Thinks he’s going to hook up with someone. LOL. He’s a little shit. But funny as hell.
Me: So . . . I shouldn’t be mad at Dawson?
Riley: I’d be mad, but I don’t think you should break up with him.
Me: Okay, thanks.
Riley: You gonna help Ariela find a boner-worthy dress?
Me: You are so bad. You know she’s purposefully making you wait.
Riley: I know. But it’s fun. We had fun last night. Just making out is really fun. I think I tend to skip it because I want to get to the good stuff. But kissing is good stuff. At least it is with her.
Me: You’re getting all mushy.
An Eastbrooke girl.
10:30am
I interrupt the girls’ conversation, which has moved on to what kind of dresses they hope to find. “I got a car and driver for us, so that we wouldn’t have to worry about getting cabs, our luggage, or packages. Do you want to go to the loft now or should we start shopping?”
“Shopping!” everyone yells.
At the first dress shop, I’m helping Annie look for a pretty pink dress for the dance.
“How are you and Ace? You haven’t really said anything.”
“I’m feeling a little guilty myself . . .”
“No! You had sex with him? I thought you were going to wait!”
“Oh, no. I just mean I let him, like . . .” She hems and haws, then kicks her foot into the ground. “I let him put his hand down my pants.”
“Oh, really? And?”
“I really liked it. I think that’s why I feel guilty. He also asked me out.”
“He did?! Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Do you think he only asked me because I let him?”
“Did you do anything else to him? Like more than you’ve done before?”
“No, why?”
“He asked you out because he likes you, not because you let him touch you. I’m so happy for you. Are you happy? I can’t believe you, of all people, haven’t put this on Facebook yet!”
“I know, weird, huh?”
“You can see why sometimes I want to keep things private, can’t you?”
I spot a gorgeous pink dress that is perfect for Annie. It’s got a sleeveless pink lace top, pink ribbon waist, and a flirty pleated skirt.
“Oh, look at this one! You have to try this on!”
“Yeah, I do. I love it. It’s sexy, but not too revealing.”
I flip it around. “But look at the back!” The back has a large triangular-shaped cutout that is sexy, but not blatant.
She hops up and down and claps. “I love that.” She grabs it from my hand and runs to the dressing room.
I follow her back as Maggie walks out in a simple black gown.
“Oh, Maggie, I like that one,” Ariela says.
I look at it critically as she asks, “What do you think, Keatyn?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes, honestly. I want to look amazing.”
“I’d say the top doesn’t fit you properly. It’s too loose. I think you would be constantly pulling it up. And the way it’s gathered here,” I point to her hip, “makes your hips look bigger than they are. It doesn’t flatter your hot body. I also think I’d like to see you in something besides black with your skin tone.”
“How about this one?” Peyton asks, holding out a strapless tiered dress in a deep navy blue.
“I like that one better! Try it on!”
Annie comes out in her pink dress. She’s already twirling and clearly in love with it. “I’m getting this. Do you think I should get this?” She grabs the skirt and twirls again. “I feel beautiful. For the first time in my life, I actually feel beautiful.”
“Then you should definitely get it,” Ariela says, walking out in another dress.
“Speaking of beautiful. That dress is like a dream,” Peyton says to Ariela, who is wearing a soft coral strapless gown with a thick band of silver beading sparkling at the waist.
Ariela looks good in anything she puts on, but this dress just isn’t her style. And based on the way she is looking at it in the mirror—shoulders shrugged and nose scrunched up—tells me she doesn’t like it either. “I don’t think this one is me. Do you want to try it on?”
“Yes!” Peyton practically screams.
Katie comes out in another dress that she’s rejecting. She’s in kind of foul mood. “What’s wrong?” I ask her.
She plops down next to me in a tight red dress that barely contains her boobs. “Dallas doesn’t want me.”
“Why do you think that?”
She purses her lips and pushes her hair behind one ear. “Last night. Things were fun. Like really fun. And I wanted to. And—I’m embarrassed to even say it—I tried. And he said no. Guys never say no.”
“Sometimes they do,” I say gently. “I think he really likes you. Maybe he wants it to be special the first time you do it. Like not just some romp in the bushes, you know?”
She lets out a sigh so big it causes one of her boobs to completely pop out of the dress. She looks down and laughs. “Probably not this dress, huh? So do you really think that’s it?”
“What did he tell you?”
“He didn’t explain. Just sort of moved away. Said he was tired. Stopped things pretty abruptly.”
“Why are you trying to go so fast with him? You’ve only been dating him, sort of, for like three days.”
“I’m tired of being a good girl all the time. I’m ready to get some experience, and I like Dallas. I really like him. I’ve crushed on him since school started.”
Maggie comes out in the navy dress at the same time Peyton walks out in the coral one. They both look stunning.
“Wow! You both look amazing!” Katie says.
“I can’t believe I found a dress so fast!” Peyton exclaims. “This is the one. It’s conservative, like they expect us to be, but I adore the bling at the waist. I feel like a goddess.”
“You look like one too,” I tell her. And she does. The color of it with her blonde hair and green eyes is amazing.
She smiles and literally lights up the room.
Maggie stands in front of the mirror. “So you all like this one?”
“It’s very different from Peyton’s but it’s amazing on you. The layers are flirty and fun, but the fit—the way it hugs your body, all the way down—makes it sexy. You look incredible.”
She cracks a naughty smile. “I think Parker will like it.”
“I think all the guys will like it,” Annie says.
“We did good here,” I say. “Maggie, Annie, and Peyton all found dresses. Katie and Ariela, what do you think? Next store?”
They both nod in agreement.
We go to three more stores and try on a bunch more dresses.
Katie finds a shimmering black and gold sequined dress. I find a long, fitted gown that glides down my body like liquid gold. It would be great for a party back home, but after looking at the photos of the past Homecoming Court dresses and listening to everyone talk about the tradition, I really want to wear something appropriate.
I also find an adorable strapless burgundy gown with the cutest flouncy skirt. I buy it to save for another occasion, just because it is so damn cute, but the burgundy would have totally clashed with all the red in the stadium.
It’s weird.
I want to look amazing in my dress but, for the first time in my life, it feels okay to want to blend in. To be part of something bigger than me. I get Whitney’s wanting to stand out. I never want to look like anyone but me. But what I really want is for the alumni to look at me and say, There’s an Eastbrooke girl.
I look at my friends, who are oohing and ahhing over Ariela in a black gown with a soft flowing skirt, sweetheart neckline, and a beaded bodice, and realize that I’m really glad to be here.
Even with things a little up in the air with Dawson right now.
Even though I miss my family.
I feel happy.
I feel like I’ve made friends. Friends who are supportive of each other. Friends who seem to like me for me. Not because of what I wear or who my mom is. They just like me.
And it feels really good.
Dawson texts me just as we’re about to go shoe shopping.
Dawson: I know you’re shopping and won’t answer if I call, but please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. Cam said he talked to you last night. That he told you the truth.
Me: He did. But he’s your brother. You can’t tell me he wouldn’t lie for you.
Dawson: Yeah, I guess.
Me: The good news for you is that I trust Riley and he says it’s true.
Dawson: So you’re not mad?
Me: When I got your texts last night, I was really upset, Dawson. I think maybe you have some major sucking up to do.
Dawson: I’m good at sucking . . .
Me: Yes, I know. I gotta go. Shoes are calling. I heart you.
Dawson: I heart you more.
Now that everyone has their dresses, we’re at a department store looking at jewelry, handbags, and shoes.
Katie, Maggie, and Annie rush over to Peyton and me. “I just heard one for the sales girls say that Abby Johnston is here. In THIS VERY STORE! Can you believe that?”
“Um, no, actually, I can’t.” My mom is here? Could that be true? Garrett did say she was taking a trip.
“We’re all going down to the cosmetics department. That’s where she’s supposed to be. We’re going to go stalk her and see if we can get a picture with her.”
Shit. I can’t go see her.
But I want to see her.
God, I want to see her.
They all take off, but Annie turns back around to look at me. I’m still standing here, frozen in my spot.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“Um, you guys go. I lived in LA. Seeing a celebrity isn’t that big of deal to me. I’m gonna go back and get that clutch I saw earlier. I think it would be perfect with my dress for the dance. I’ll meet up with you later.”
She runs off and I slink over to the second floor balcony, where I can see down to the cosmetics and perfume counters. I spot Mom right away. There are two men, Ryan and Craig, in black suits trailing closely behind her. James is not with her, which is surprising. He almost always accompanies Mom when Tommy doesn’t. It makes Tommy worry less.
