Текст книги "Love Me"

Автор книги: Jillian Dodd

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

“Wait. You didn’t believe her?”

“No. Not at first.”

“What did she say to make you believe it? What tore it all down?”

“She told me that you used to date. That you broke up after prom, and how you’ve been trying to get back together with her all semester . . . And . . . And . . .That I was just a rebound.”

“And now you know that’s not true? That she really cheated on me. That I’d never do that to you.”

I can’t do this. I can’t sit here and talk about this.

“I have to go, Aiden.”

He grabs my hands. “Please don’t go.”

“Last night, I thought you would come apologize. I kept waiting.”

“I’m not going to apologize for telling you no. And I’m not the one who acted like a spoiled little brat who didn’t get her way.”

“If that’s what you think about me—that I only wanted to unzip your pants because I wanted to get my way—then you should go back to Chelsea.”

“This isn’t about her, it’s about us.”

“There is no more us, Aiden.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t do this anymore. You’re not the boss of me or the boss of our relationship. And I’m not going to apologize for being attracted to you or for wanting you. I want a good relationship. One where two people can discuss how they’re feeling without it always ending in a fight. Without someone storming off.”

“You did that last night.”

“Yeah, because I couldn’t take you rejecting me one more time.”

“Do you think it’s been easy for me? I’m doing it for you. Because you need to go slow.”

I shake my head and turn toward the door. But then I pause and turn back around. “Why do you think I need to go slow?”

“Because the last two guys you’ve been with, that you loved, hurt you. I want to be the guy that doesn’t hurt you.”

“But you’re hurting me right now. You have no idea how bad this hurt me.”

“Keatyn, all your past relationships have been based on sex. And I want—”

“No! You stop there. That's bullshit! You don’t know anything!” I clutch my chest and start crying even harder. “I loved the Keats guy. He was my friend for two years. Our relationship was never based on sex. Don’t you ever say it was! And I'm sick of you judging me. Especially you. I know you had lots of relationships based on sex last year and you hooked up with girls you didn’t even care about. So, stop pretending this is about me. Stop trying to make me pay for my past and start looking at your own.”

“Says the girl who’s still sleeping with Dawson.”

“What?! What are you even talking about? I haven't done anything, not even kissed Dawson, since, since . . . like, before Halloween. I chose you.”

Aiden’s eyes get big. Then he winces from the pain of moving them.

“But . . . but, you’ve been hanging out with him.”

“Only because we’re trying to stay friends.”

He slowly drops to his bed. “Don't you think maybe you should’ve told me that?”

“I would have, but you told me we were going at our own pace. That you didn't want to compare the relationships.”

“I didn't know,” he says quietly.

“It doesn’t really matter, Aiden. We didn’t trust each other. I should’ve known that you would never do that to me, and you should’ve known that I was just sexually frustrated and that when I said I was done that I didn’t mean it.”

I don’t want to do this.

I do not want to do this.

But I have to.

I have to protect what’s left of my heart.

I remember when he brought me cake. How I saw our future.

How I told myself I couldn’t do it. That I couldn’t give him my heart.

How if Dawson had the potential to break my heart, crack it in two, Aiden has the power to annihilate it.

I got a glimpse of that power today.

Of his potential to destroy me.

And after everything that’s happened to me.

I know I’m not strong enough to survive it.

So I have to do what’s best for both of us.

I have to walk away.

“Goodbye, Aiden.”

I walk down the stairs and through the first floor hallway in a haze of tears.

And find myself in front of Dawson’s door.

I stand here for a minute and think about knocking.

It would be so easy to just knock on his door.

To tell him it’s over.

To get whatever I wanted.

But my wanting to do more sexually wasn’t about just getting my way.

It was about more.

It was about a lot more.

And because of that, I can’t knock on Dawson’s door.

Even though it would be so easy.

Sunday, November 20th

Washes it away.

8pm

I don’t leave my room today.

I just lie on my bed and stare at the beach on my wall.

The girls don’t understand why I’m still so upset.

But they don’t know what I felt when Chelsea told me.

They don’t know the crushing, twisting, burning, painful things her words made me feel.

They don’t know that I’m not what I seem.

They don’t know the truth about me.

About what I’ve been through.

About what I’m still going through.

How often I have to pretend like everything is okay when I’m so scared.

When it feels like everything is falling apart.

Me getting mad at Aiden for rejecting me wasn’t just about him saying no.

It was me reacting to being told no about everything.

No, you can’t talk to your friends.

No, you can’t get on social media.

No, you can’t stay here.

No, you can’t tell anyone. 

No, he’ll find you.

No, you won’t get so lucky the next time. 

No, you can’t see your family. 

Because even your own family is afraid of you.

Tears fall endlessly down my face.

I want to build a mansion of love with Aiden more than anything.

But I’ve built enough sand castles to know.

We’d be building that foundation on sand.

And the water always washes it away.

Monday, November 21st

Revenge sex is sweet.

History

 I slump down into my seat in history. I’m wearing my gold sparkly game day outfit even though it’s not an actual game day. Tomorrow is the playoff game and because we have to leave school early to get there, we’re having the pep rally today.

I’m starting to get sick of pep rallies.

“I take it you and Aiden didn’t make up,” Riley says.

“No. We’re done.”

“You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit.”

“He looks like shit too. I feel bad.”

“What promise did he break, Riley?”

Riley shakes his head. “It doesn’t really matter now.”

“It does matter. Please tell me.”

“He promised me that he’d never hurt you.”

My hand goes to my stomach, like Riley just punched me. Because that’s sort of what it felt like. A punch to the gut.

I stare at him for a minute before I cover my face with my hands and cry silently.

Riley drops me off outside my English class.

I’m never early for class, but today I’m the first one in my seat.

The teacher walks in, looks at me funny, and then says, “We’re going to do something fun today. Would you mind putting one of these handouts on each desk?”

“Sure,” I reply, glad for something to keep me busy.

I’m just finishing when Dallas and Katie walk in and sit down. Katie’s face looks flushed and happy.

“Bryce walk you to class?” I ask her.

She smiles a huge grin as Dallas says, “They were making out in the hallway.”

“I heard you were making out—well, more than that—with someone yesterday,” she teases him back.

“Revenge sex is sweet, especially when it’s with her best friend,” Dallas says, sitting up straighter. But then he looks at me. “Um, except you shouldn’t do that, Kiki. I mean, you know. I just . . .”

“I’m not having revenge sex, Dallas. I’m not having any sex. I may move to France to join a nunnery.”

He hits my shoulder. “I don’t think they’ll let girls with stripper names into the nunnery.”

His comment makes me smile and even laugh a little.

I love Dallas.

“Do you remember that first day?” I ask him. “When you were trying to think up a nickname for me? It was right before . . .”

The smile fades from my face and I drop my chin to my chest.

“It’ll be okay,” Dallas says. “Are you really going on break by yourself? You can come home with me.”

“You could come home with me too,” Katie says. “You’re more than welcome.”

“I appreciate that, guys. But the house that I’m staying at has really good memories for me. It’s a place that I hope will help . . .”

“Help what?”

“Heal me, maybe. I’m not sure. And it’s not like I’ll be completely alone. There’s a full staff. I’ll be waited on hand and foot. Mabel will make me her famous pecan pie. We’ll cook a turkey.”

“And you’ll eat it alone?”

“Probably, yes.”

They both look at me with pity.

“Don’t worry about me. My mom goes to the spa by herself all the time. That’s what it’s going to be like for me. A spa retreat. And I’m looking forward to getting my tan back.”

“You don’t have to be alone, Keatyn,” Dallas says. “What if I came with you? Maybe Riley could come too. We’d have fun.”

“I appreciate the offers more than you know, but I really need to go alone.”

Can’t deal.

Math

 In math class, Logan tries to reason with me.

“Will you just talk to him?”

“We already talked.”

“He’s miserable. You’re miserable.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“I’m not sure that he will.”

“I’m not sure that I will either.”

“See, that makes no sense. He’s the good prince, Keatyn.”

“I know he is.”

I close my eyes and shake my head, just as I get called to the office over the loud speaker.

I grab my bag and head to the office.

But the closer I get, the weirder I feel.

The hairs on the back of my neck are standing on end. My stomach feels tied up in knots.

No, I don’t feel weird. I feel worried.

Make that scared.

Is Vincent here? Did Annie not listen?

I don’t go to the office. Instead, I text Cooper.

Me:  Are you in class?

Cooper:  Yes. 

Me:  I just got called to the office. I’m afraid to go. What if someone contacted him?

Cooper:  Go somewhere (not your dorm) and hide. I’ll go find out.

I immediately turn around and run as fast as I can to the chapel.

When I get there, I find Aiden sitting in a pew. Our pew.

The door slams behind me, causing him to turn around.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him.

“Just thinking.”

“You looked like you were praying. Is your mom okay?”

“She’s fine. Thanks for asking.”

I sit down next to him. I know the place is full of empty pews. I could choose any one of them, but I don’t. I’ll always be drawn to his side.

“You haven’t answered any of my phone calls or texts. Have you read them?”

“No. Net yet.”

“So you might?”

“Maybe.”

“When?”

“On break. I just can’t deal with them right now.”

“I’m sorry you got hurt.”

I reach up and gently touch the bruise under his eye. “I’m sorry you got hurt too.”

He takes my hand in his and kisses it.

But I can’t let it affect me.

I swallow and tell myself to move.

Because I know that I can’t stay here.

Because I don’t trust myself to do what’s best for me.

If I stay, I’ll beg him to come with me.

I’ll tell him I need him.

But I can’t.

I can’t.

Because what I need is to get over him.

My phone buzzes.

Cooper:  Where are you?

Me:  Chapel.

Cooper:  Come to my office.

“I have to go,” I say, trying to keep the regret out of my voice.

He doesn’t say anything. Just nods.

I go the back way to the field house. Running through the tree line instead of down the sidewalk. I forgot to ask Cooper what he found out. Although I’m sure if Vincent were here, he would have told me.

I’m being ridiculous.

But just in case, I walk behind the buildings.

When I get to his office, he says, “Sit down.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s not Vincent. Peyton had some lame excuse for why she had you called to the office. Something about French weekend. When I pressed her about it, she said that she needed to talk to you about Thanksgiving break and you keep ignoring her. I thought she was going with you?”

“Aiden and I are over. There was some drama this weekend.”

“Is that the real reason Riley punched him?”

“Yeah. A girl told me that she and Aiden hooked up. I was upset. Went to Riley and bawled. He got pissed and punched Aiden.”

“And almost got suspended.”

“Yeah. Needless to say, they aren’t going with me anymore.”

“You’re going by yourself?”

“Why is that such a big deal? I want to go by myself. I’m glad I’m going by myself! I can’t freaking wait!”

“I’ll go with you. I like the beach.”

“You’re going home to be with your family.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Nothing has changed, Cooper. Same mode of transportation. Same destination. Same people going to be on staff. Everything that you already got approved by Garrett. The only thing that’s changed is the guest list.”

“That’s true. Maybe it’s just because you seem like a bit of a wreck. I’m worried about you. Worried you’ll do something rash. Maybe I could arrange for you to see your . . .”

“Cooper, I haven’t had a second by myself since all this happened. I need to go by myself. Now, more than ever.”

“Alright. We still on for tonight?”

“Definitely. And I’d like to spar,” I say as I open his door. “Do you think I’m ready?”

Cooper grins at me. “I’ll bring the protection.”

“See you tonight.”

As I round the corner, I see Whitney, scurrying—almost running—around the next corner. Which is kinda odd because I don’t think I’ve ever seen her run.

I skip lunch, opting to go to the library.

But this was the wrong place to go.

I have so many memories of Aiden here. Him telling me that we’re sorta like fate. That he was going to ask me to marry him at the top of the Eiffel tower at sunset. When he saw the text from Dawson about how he’d die without a kiss. How we sat on the bench out front and watched our first sunset together.

I find a remote corner with two chairs that are hidden behind a set of stacks. I sit down, pull out Avery’s purple glitter pen, and start writing.

Fire = Passion.

French

Even though I want to skip French, I don’t.

But sitting in this class sucks.

Because all I can think about is him.

All the things he’s leaned up and whispered in my ear. The dirty words. The notes about true love and the dream girl.

I tune out Miss Praline, hide my phone under my desk, and send a text.

Me:  Grandma, my house got burned down.

Grandma:  You can always rebuild a house. Fire is a lot harder to find. (It’s just harder to control sometimes.) Hint: Fire = Passion. 

I also send one to Grandpa.

Me:  Remember when Jose told me not to let boys give me shit?

Grandpa:  Yes.

Me:  He forgot to tell me what to do when a boy does.

Grandpa:  Well, you have two options. I can send you a nice little revolver, or you can give him shit back.

My God of all Hotties.

4pm

I manage to get through our dance routine at the pep rally without crying.

But I want to cry.

Just seeing Aiden in his jersey makes me want to bawl.

It’s the jersey that I wore.

That I was so proud to wear on the field.

He kissed me with his tongue because of that jersey.

I bury my face in my pompoms so I don’t have to look at him.

“Keatyn,” Maggie says. “You have to snap out of it. You’re acting like a zombie.”

“I am not. I was just out there dancing.”

“And now you’re practically in tears.” She wraps her arm around my shoulder and pulls me into a hug. “Boys suck.”

I nod, agreeing with her. But I don’t agree. Aiden doesn’t suck. He’s perfect.

“You made me give Logan another chance.”

“No, I didn’t. You gave him another chance because he made the big gesture.”

“Do you need a big gesture?”

“No. It won’t matter, Maggie. We fight all the time,” I say, giving her the excuse I gave him.

“My mom says there’s a fine line between love and hate. That the more passionate you get, the more passion you have.”

“My grandma said something like that to me today. That fire equals passion.”

“You and Aiden have passion.”

“Aiden and I had more than passion. We had fire.”

“Fires smolder for a while after they’ve been put out, you know. You aren’t done with him. You can’t be. Keatyn, tell me now that you don’t love him and I’ll stop bugging you.”

I look at him.

He’s standing across the basketball court, listening to the coaches try to get everyone fired up for the big game. His face is bruised, his hair isn’t gelled, his posture is off, his green eyes aren’t sparkling, and there’s no beaming smile on his face.

But he still looks like a god to me. My God of all Hotties.

Little tears fall down my face.

I wipe them away quickly.

“You’re crying just looking at him. I know you love him.”

I close my eyes and nod.

“So why don’t you talk to him?”

“I did earlier. It’s over, Maggie. It has to be.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t hooked up with Dawson.”

“I wish I could. It would make this a whole lot easier.”

A friendly voice.

7pm

I skip dinner. The girls offered to stay and order in pizza, but I told them to go without me. I wouldn’t be very good company. No one really argued with me. Ace and Annie will be apart for Thanksgiving break, as will Katie and Bryce. They are trying to spend every last minute together.

I scroll through my phone and hit Damian’s number.

“Hey, Keats.”

“Hey.”

“Oh, boy. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to hear a friendly voice.”

“Are you excited to go to St. Croix?”

“Very.”

“Who all is going with you?”

“Um, no one, actually.”

“You’re spending Thanksgiving alone?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought . . .”

“It didn’t work out.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe you should invite B.”

“No. I . . . I couldn’t deal with him right now.”

“Keats, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“I’m fine. Just a little broken. But I’ve been broken for a while. I’m like a chip on your windshield.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You know how when you get a rock chip, it seems minor? But then a few weeks later you see that the chip has spread. Then a few weeks after that, your windshield is ruined. I’m a chip that didn’t get fixed.”

“And now you’re ruined?”

“Pretty much. Damian, will you sing to me?”

“Yeah, Keats. Lie down and close your eyes.”

I like it rough.

11:30pm

As soon as Katie starts breathing heavily, I sneak into my closet and change into my workout clothes.

“So, what’s your holiday tradition?” I ask Cooper while I’m putting on some protective gear.

“Um, well, we eat a turkey dinner and then go to my sister’s grave. She was killed two days before Thanksgiving.”

“I’m so sorry, Cooper.”

“I know,” he says, throwing me a pair of red gloves.

We walk out into the center of the mat and he tells me a bunch of rules like we’re in an actual competition.

“Is this like a match? Are we keeping score?”

“You tap out, you lose.”

We bump gloves, and I show him all that I’ve learned from him in the last few weeks.

And I’m doing well. I’m connecting with a lot of my punches, and I’ve even managed to get him down on the ground twice.

And, more importantly, he’s yet to take me down.

“That’s it,” he says, egging me on. “Get on it.”

I’m breathing heavily and sweating. “Uhh. Uhh. Uhh,” I grunt as I throw a three-punch combination.

“That’s it. You know I like it rough,” he teases.

He throws a right-handed punch toward my ribs. I quickly grab his forearm and twist it, bringing him to his knees.

“Do it harder,” he says. “You want me facedown.”

All of a sudden, the gym doors swing open.

“See, I told you they’re having an affair . . .” Whitney says to the dean, who she’s pulled inside with her.

We pull our face guards off and go, “A what?!”

The dean says, “Clearly, you were mistaken, Miss Clarke. Why don’t you head back to your dorm. I’ll take it from here.”

“But they were gone on the same two days. I gave you pictures of them sneaking off together. He’s even holding her hand in one photo. And . . .”

“Miss Clarke.”

“It’s more than an affair. She was pregnant with his baby. That’s why they were both gone the same day. She had an abort—”

The dean says, “That’s enough accusations, Miss Clarke. Get to your dorm or you’ll get a detention for being out after curfew.”

“But she’s out after curfew!”

“Now!” he says.

Whitney gives me an evil glare and stomps out. The dean shuts the door behind her, saying, “I’ll expect to see you in my office first thing in the morning.”

Then he turns to us. “Now, obviously, you’re not having an affair. But you, Mr. Steele, are out alone with a student after curfew. That’s against school policy.”

"It's my fault, sir,” I say.

“How so?”

“I asked him to teach me how to fight. With homework, rehearsals, and other activities, right after curfew was the only time we could meet."

“And why do you need to know how to fight? We don’t have too many street brawls here at Eastbrooke.”

“Um, well, I'm hoping eventually that will be classified.”

Cooper stifles a chuckle.

“What?” the dean asks.

“I’m good with languages, sir. I'm a good actress. I'm smart and athletic. When we did our career surveys with our counselor, mine came up with a career that I’m really interested in. A CIA operative. I've always read spy novels and realized it was totally, like, my calling. And Miss Praline told me all the stuff I needed to start working on now, because it’s really tough to get selected.”

I turn to Cooper. “Even you’ve heard that, right, Coach Steele?”

Cooper flashes his dimples at me and nods at the dean. “That is correct.”

“And I think I’m mostly prepared except for two things. I need to learn how to protect myself and, of course, I’ll need to learn how to shoot a gun. After soccer one day, Coach Steele was punching the bag in the gym, and I remembered that he was an accomplished MMA fighter. So I asked him to teach me.”

“Begged him,” Cooper counters.

“Yes, begged him to teach me. And it’s good for him too. Like, so he can keep up with his skills.”

Cooper rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

But I continue. “And that day we were both gone. I'm sorry if it was inappropriate for us to go together, but there was this fight. In Atlantic City.”

“I wanted her to see it in person. I didn't think she really understood the savageness of it all.”

“He's not going to get in trouble, is he? He's a really good soccer coach.”

Dean shakes his head at me. “The CIA?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Interesting. Do you have much left of your lesson?”

Cooper looks at the clock on the wall. “About 10 more minutes.”

“I think I’ll stay and watch the rest, then.”

“Awesome,” I say, loving the idea of having an audience. “You can tell me if I'm any good. Coach Steele says that I still suck.”

The dean sits in a chair, while we pull our face masks back down and get into position.

Cooper quickly strikes, but I’m ready for him with a block. Then I grab his arm, spin under him and elbow him in the ribs.

When we’re done, the dean offers to walk me back to my dorm.

“So is that CIA stuff really true?” he asks me.

“Yes, sir. It is. You can ask Miss Praline.”

“I will,” he says.